Page 7 of Krash & Bern

“Drive safe, Mr. Williams.” Daddy ushered me into the house.

Something shifted in our friendship. We’d grown closer, but something changed. We were venturing into uncharted territory. I knew we’d cross the line sooner than later.

A year later

Left. Right.

Right. Left.

Duck. Bob.

Left. Right.

Right. Right.

The combinations flowed through my body in quick bursts. Every punch of the glove fueled me to go even harder than before. Sweat slid from my pores in thick streams as I exerted all my energy into every jab of my hands.

“You’re punching too wild, Krash. Slow down.” Coach Larry pushed me back, and my defensive stance fell.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I swiped the sweat with my arm.

“You’re not anticipating your opponent’s moves. You’re throwing punches, but you’re not protecting yourself at the same time. Slow down and calculate your moves.”

A breath blew from between my lips. “Man, I ain’t trying to hear all of that right now.”

“If you’re not trying to perfect your craft, you have no business being in my gym.”

“I don’t need this shit.”

“Come here.” Coach Larry motioned with his hand for me to return to the spot I’d just stepped away from. I didn’t move. “I’m not going to repeat myself, Krash.”

My feet slid like bricks back over to him. I crossed my arms.

“I get you got a lot of anger in your system. Boxing can be the outlet for you to release that pain, but you have to do itsmart. Turn your anger into victory and power.”

He started to speak my language. I’d been coming to the gym for a few months. I’d overheard some dudes talking about the gym during my morning runs and had been coming ever since. At first, I just wanted to hit shit, but after a few sessions with Coach Larry, he’d become the father figure I never had.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“You’ve made a lot of improvement over the last couple of months. Don’t regress,” he advised.

I nodded quickly. “You’re right. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Take your anger out on a punching bag and not during training. You have the potential to be great. Don’t lose that drive in you.”

“I’m trying. Hopefully, once I’m away from my living situation, I’ll be able to focus better.”

“I know you said things are rough. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

The boxing gym had been my home away from hell all summer. From opening to closing, I was on the premises. On the weekends, I worked reception and checked people in and out of the gym as well as rented out equipment as necessary. The job kept money in my pockets, and the gym kept my hands off my father. The gut feeling in my stomach told me the lessons with Coach Larry would come in handy one day.

After I left the gym, I headed home. The lights were on in the living room, so I braced myself for the drunk bastard who awaited me. I sat in my car for over an hour, watching videos on my phone to mentally withdraw from my home abuse. I pushed open the door, and the stench of gin greeted my nose immediately.

“Where have you been, boy?” His voice slurred as his bloodshot eyes zeroed in on me.

“Work.”

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