| |
FIGHT!
by Rick Croucher
This
is a fight I remember from 8th grade just at the end of the breezeway. It
probably didn't happen this way but it's the way my mind recollects it...
You know, I should be
outside playing catch with my dog, but she can throw better than I can. Yeah,
it's a beautiful day and here I sit after brewing' a pot o' coffee. I'll drink
cup after cup until I have to sprint to the loo. It's true. I do. I have
energy, too, wired with an entire pot drained. So, til that moment comes I
thought I might meander across the keyboard and punch a few letters.
I've been racking my brain to kick out another memory of my uncle but the only
thing that comes to mind is the very last time we spoke and that is too sad to
put in this box. Instead....
"There's going to be a fight at recess over near the 8th grade class under
the oak!" Ivan yelled at me as he ran along the breezeway.
"Who's fightin'?" I yelled back picking up my pace in the direction
of the crowd of students mulling around under the oak.
"You know, Donny and Jimmy. He went too far this time and Jimmy swung at
him." I heard a voice in the crowd say.
Another voice popped up, "Ole Droopy Drawers caught 'em and told 'em they
could finish it out here with the gloves." Ole Droopy Drawers was the
moniker we students had given the phys ed teacher whose actual name sounded
much like it.
"When does it start?"
"Any minute now..."
"Hey, there they are. Droopy's got the gloves and the guys are dressed
out."
"All right you kids," shouted Droopy, "form a circle big enough
for these two bucks to pelt it out."
He threw the gloves to Jimmy and Donny. "Put 'em on boys. You’ve been
wantin' to have it out for a long time. Now's your chance, with official
sanction. I want a clean fight with no dirty punches. You keep it up til one of
you gives up or one of you is down. I will declare the winner unless I feel it
is a tie." He helped the slower one with the glove's laces.
I turned to one of my classmates and asked, "What is this all about?"
"Oh, you know. Her." He pointed to the slim brunette standing at the
back of the crowd. She slipped behind the oak tree. She was crying and
embarrassed. I noticed after the first punch was thrown that she had
disappeared.
I remember the first day. We were brand new 8th graders and scared out of our
minds. The stories we had heard about the initiation of grammar school kids
entering these higher grades were frightful. Paint and mud and other noxious
substances were smeared on the new kids the year before at the moment they
stepped on the bus. Not one of us was looking forward to our turn. However,
this year those antics were dispensed with. I guess the parents and teachers
put a stop to it somehow because it didn't happen to one of us that year nor to
any other new student from then on. That was one of the experiences that made
me realize that nothing is really as bad as one imagines no matter how scary
the stories of the new unknown territory.
Well, Jimmy's first reaction to the petite brunette was totally unlike him. His
eyes went O so big and drool emerged from the corner of his mouth. He looked
like the aftermath of a skillet/skull encounter. This goofy smile crept over
his face and he stepped an inch above the ground and floated over to her. I
lost track of him as I made my way to my class. She was looking at him with
fluttering eyes and he was gasping out words of no relation one to another. I
shook my head as I left him behind.
This girl was from a different area and had attended a different grammar
school. She was new to us. She was a real eye opener for Jimmy. He'd never met
anyone who had such an affect on him. He was a totally different boy, uh, man.
First love truly does alter one. He was definitely altered and never the same
again. They saw each other between classes and everything was hunky dory until
Donny stepped into the breezeway.
He had gone to the same grammar school as this young girl and had always
considered her his. This he made known to my friend after she walked off to
class. Donny waited until she was gone and came over to voice his thoughts on
this budding romance.
"You stay the hell away from my girl!"
"Your girl? She doesn't seem to know that. She's been very friendly with
me."
"Maybe, but you better keep your distance or I'll make you."
"Oh yeah." Jimmy always had a witty come back at times like this.
"Yeah!" I could see Donny was on the same plane as my friend.
They pushed one another double handed in the chest as boys are want to do until
their friends made the effort to pull them apart. "Stop it guys. You'll
get us in trouble."
"You better keep your distance, buddy."
"I'll do what I want, buddy."
Yup, I remember how it all began. A feast for the intellect. And, now, it had
finally made it to the "ring" of shouting students. They each had
their gloves on now and Droopy blew the whistle and stepped back into the
crowd. The roar of this growing crowd lifted and the two boys began to circle
each other. Did I denote a touch of fear in each of them?
"Come on, boys, quit dancing' in there and lets see some punching. You've
been threatening each other for a long time. Get on with it!" The coach
was really getting into the spirit of this thing. He wanted to see some boxing.
Wait, I did detect a touch of fear in Donny's eyes. He was big and had never
really had anyone accept a challenge. This was out of the ordinary and it could
be seen that he was not happy in this situation. Jimmy was smaller but wiry and
had been hitting the weights for a couple of months so he was a taut spring
ready to lash out. His face showed no fear only determination to end this.
The first punch was finally thrown to the yells of "kill 'im"
"murder 'im" "come on Jimmy" "come on Donny"
"fight, fight, fight"
Nothing original in the crowd's encouragement. Jimmy landed a punch and Donny
staggered back. He'd tasted his own blood now. He stepped back to the middle
and threw his first punch, a lucky one, which glanced across Jimmy's flattop
causing him to fall to the right. Thinking he'd hurt him Donny stepped in to
land another but was caught with an uppercut that laid him out. Droopy's
whistle blew and he edged Jimmy away stepping to Donny. "You all right,
son?"
"Yeah, he didn't hurt me."
"You fellas ready to call it quits?"
"NO!" They yelled in unison and the crowd of students cheered them on
with renewed vigor.
"All right. Rest a minute and collect your thoughts. Wait for the whistle
and come out punching."
They stared at each other with renewed anger. The whistle sounded.
They jumped at each other and threw punches non stop for almost a minute.
Neither landed a blow of significance each warding off the other's lethal
swing. They backed off and waded back into with spirit. Punches flew and
punches were blocked for another minute and the whistle blasted.
"Once again, you boys had enough?"
"NO," said Jimmy. "I want to end this here."
"No,’ said Donny with reluctance in his voice.
"All right, one more round. Then you have to shake hands and let this
go."
The whistle blew. Donny stepped into a left hook. He dropped. Droopy ran in to
separate them. "How do you feel?"
"I'm OK. Lucky punch."
"Ready to stop?"
"No."
"Get up then. One more minute."
Donny got up lifted his guard and began swinging. Jimmy blocked and countered.
They were a whir of gloves zipping here and there with sounds of leather on
leather buffeting the air. Body punches popped grunts of pain from both of
them. The sweat poured off both of them like a fountain. With each new punch
the jolt splattered the first row students. Some were pelted with sweat mingled
with blood that flowed from both boxers’ noses. It's true that blood does set
of the crowd's frenzy to see more fleshly destruction. This group was no
different.
The boxers were beginning to show their exhaustion as the punches came slower.
The weight of the gloves began to show. Their movements had lost the spring and
velocity. Sweat mingled with the dust they churned up plastering patches of dry
grey dirt amid thin layers of mud. Their chests were heaving to capture air as
the whistle blew. Droopy stepped between them. They lowered their arms and
smiled with relief.
They looked at one another and broke out in grins.
"OK, boys, you did all right by yourselves. I declare it a draw. Now, you
need to hit the showers before your next class." Looking at us, he said'
"All right, boys and girls, the show is over. You can go to your classes
now."
We separated to go to our individual classrooms. The excitement was high
amongst the spectators. I looked back at Jimmy and Donny who had provided the
moment's entertainment. They were headed to the showers each with his arm over
the shoulder of the other. Their ordeal was over. They had a new respect for
one another. I'd like to say they became best friends but they didn't. They
never fought again, though.
That fight was the only one under the supervision of a teacher I witnessed. If
a student had a beef with another, it was handled after school. I don't know if
Ole Droopy Drawers got into trouble for that little exhibition but it was never
repeated at school again. It has become legend with the students of our
graduating class. Each year we have a reunion that fight is brought up.
The girl? She gained notoriety as the girl two students fought over. Jimmy met
someone else who eventually took him down the church's aisle. Donny? He never
claimed this girl as his again and met another a few months later.
What did it all mean? Nothing really. It was one of life's lessons for the
participants and for the spectators. No moral or lesson learned other than life
is really....uh, life is...well, life…
Yeah, it is isn't it?
|
STORIES & FEATURES
Author profile - Alex Barclay 
Pip, Squeak and Wilfred 
In memory of Nipper 
A Good Deed by Phyllis Owen 
Walt Howarth - artist profile 
Book news: Treason's River 
Book news: The Bonehunters 
Fight! by Rick Croucher 
W.I.T.C.H. - four new titles 
Inspector West 
Mark & Laura Stutzman Gallery 
Owen Owen: Grebe and Chick 
BOOK PAGES
HARPER COLLINS/VOYAGER 
RANDOM HOUSE 
RANDOM HOUSE KIDS 
TITAN BOOKS 
MACMILLAN 
TRANSWORLD 
PENGUIN 
HODDER 
BAEN BOOKS 
BUD PLANT 
MORE FROM BUD 
FIDRA BOOKS 
CREEPERS by David Morrell 
MARCH FULL CONTENTS 
OTHER STORIES BY RICK CROUCHER:
|
| |
Gateway is published by Paul Edmund Norman on the first day of each month. Hosting is by Flying Porcupine at www.flyingporcupine.com - and web design by Gateway. Submitting to Gateway: Basically, all you need do is e-mail it along and I'll consider it - it can be any length, if it's very long I'll serialise it, if it's medium-length I'll put it in as a novella, if it's a short story or a feature article it will go in as it comes. Payment is zero, I'm afraid, as I don't make any money from Gateway, I do it all for fun! Should you be kind enough to want to send me books to review, please contact me by e-mail and I will gladly forward you my home address. Meanwhile, here's how to contact me: paulenorman@yahoo.co.uk
Home : Contents
: Features
: Reviews
: Galleries
: Archive : E-Mail
Web hosting and domain names from Vision Internet
|