Page 88 of Spike

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Spike

Ichopped awayat Arlovski’s mid-section for a good partof round one until he started swatting back. And I mean actual swatting. Like abear, with his hands cupped like giant paws, he toyed with me while testing myrange.

I did my best tostay on the inside, conserving my energy, throwing medium strength, but solidshots.

“I hope for yoursake, you can hit harder than that,” he taunted, as we circled each other.

“And I hope foryour sake, they don’t cancel ‘the Reading Choo-Choo.’”

“You won’t be ableto read, write, or chew solid food when I’m through with you.”

I made note of thefact that he wasn’t wearing a mouth guard. I didn’t hear a rule against it, andthe ref didn’t say anything when I popped mine in, so either my opponent has aniron jaw, or he’s not expecting me to connect with it.

“Shut the fuck upand fight,” the ref instructed.

Arlovski came atme with his first real punch of the fight. A looping overhand right, which Isaw coming and successfully blocked. Even still, the force of the punch drovemy left hand into the side of my head. It was a hell of a lot better than adirect hit, but still somewhat effective. I tried to return the favor with anuppercut, but this time it was him who blocked my shot.

I spent the restof the round covering up and fighting at short range. I had to stay away fromhis power shots, which meant working from far outside or smothering him on theinside. My hands were already starting to go numb, which I suppose beats thealternative. But the pain of broken knuckles and swollen joints wouldn’t comeuntil after the fight. Right now, I had adrenaline and endorphins on my side,and they were about to go into overdrive.

** *

Trixie

I don’t think Itook a single breath for the last minute of the round. The match looked likeDavid and Goliath minus the sling, the stone, or any discernable help from God.

“Get out ofthere!” I yelled as the Mangler continued to bat Spike around the ring.

“You didn’t bet onthe new kid, did you?” the guy standing next to me asked.

“What if I did?”

“Then I’d say getused to the idea of not having that money anymore. Arlovski’s undefeated.”

“The new kid is myboyfriend,” I said defiantly.

“Oh, shit. ThenI’d say get used to the idea of not having a boyfriend anymore.”

I huffed and gavehim a dirty look. It was the best I could muster under the circumstances.Mercifully, the bell rang, and Spike had survived the first round.

I plopped down inmy seat, elbows in my thighs, and rested my face in my palms. I didn’t know howI was going to find the strength to watch two more rounds of this, or worse,see Spike knocked into a coma. So, I did what I always do when I’m scared and unsureof the future. I prayed. Not out of ritual or habit, or even because I thoughtmy prayers swayed God’s decisions about what happened here on Earth. I prayedbecause it helped put my problems into perspective. It humbled and centered me.

When I prayed, Ithought about the struggle I was going through at that moment and tried to lookat it from God’s perspective. Through a birds-eye-view of the world as it wasnow, as well as the past and future. I thought of my pain and how insignificantit was in the grand scheme of the universe and I felt a little bit lighter. Noproblems solved, per se, but often having gained a greater perspective of them.

All of that beingsaid, my prayers at that moment were simply for God to protect Spike from braindamage or death, and me from having a heart attack.

** *

Spike

“Okay, kid. Youmade it through round one,” Clutch said, as he squeezed a sponge full ofice-cold water on my head. “How ya feeling?”

“Sorta like I’mgetting beat up by a refrigerator,” I replied.

“In this round,let’s try to get hit a little less, whatta ya say?”

I rolled my eyes.Bad move, since it hurt like a mother fucker. “Ace game plan per usual, Coach.”

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