A little over a month without publishing.
The reason? You know when a day is simply not your day, well I had a couple of weeks like that.
To start with, I got hit, fortunately nobody was seriously injured (my sister had a mild contracture in her shoulder) but it was enough to leave me without a car for two weeks.
A couple of days later, during a storm, after years of enduring sudden blackouts my computer finally decided to give up, along with it, it took a bunch of files, among them the most recent version of my thesis, (Fortunately, since I sent my work to my advisor, I had previous copies) assignments, personal things… and, what hurt the most, several texts I was writing for this.
I have many of my ideas written in a notebook (which I carry with me everywhere) but a large part of the structure of the upcoming chapters was completely lost along with my computer.
This chapter I was able to rewrite without much problem but, I lost other things I planned to publish later (tens of thousands of words). And not only that: work files from my actual job were also erased, so between trying to recover what was lost and redoing the unrecoverable, I lost the will to write for a good while (A couple of weeks).
But well, nothing that hard work, a new computer (reminders to make backups every week if possible) and exercise to keep my head busy can't fix, let's get back to normal.
Enjoy :D
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Reminder in case someone forgot.
During a dinner at a restaurant in the lake town the Duncan family visited, along with Meredith and Diane who have a rather tense beginning of a relationship, met the McCarthy family who, after an arrogant verbal battle between Bob and Mr. McCarthy, orchestrated a Golf match.
There PJ, after several hours of practice the previous day, managed to hit the first ball correctly.
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Whistling impressed, Daniel took the Driver from my hand. "If your technique weren't clearly that of a novice, I'd strongly doubt you were one" he said, snorting, "that was easily two hundred seventy yards."
"My dad and I hit a few balls yesterday, but other than that, it's the first time I've touched a golf club" I replied, trying to see where the ball had landed.
I didn't know how golfers could do it, it was very hard to distinguish the small white ball so far away.
Having a general idea of where my ball had ended up. "Beginner's luck, I guess" I added, walking next to Daniel back to where the others were.
"Yeah, that's it, beginner's luck" repeated Mr. McCarthy, who apparently had heard me a few steps away.
Hugging my shoulder, Bob guided me back to the golf cart, arriving in time to see how the McCarthy pair, father and son, walked to their own, the man speaking quickly with his son, urging him to get into his seat before he sat in his own, immediately beginning to murmur emphatically with his caddie.
Snorting annoyed. "And so it begins" murmured Daniel, watching with pity the treatment his coworker was receiving.
And he wasn't wrong, during the next strokes up to the third hole, Mr. McCarthy progressively lost his calm, even forcing him to strike the golf club hard against the ground after his last shot. apparently a mistake, according to Daniel, easily avoidable.
Bob on the other hand, from the start wasn't very good at playing, with poorly directed shots or simply missing the ball completely, he quickly fell behind, but since I kept playing 'well,' thanks to several lucky hits in a row, he didn't seem to care much about his own bad game.
Making two strokes more than necessary for hole three, the annoyed Mr. McCarthy threw his golf club to the ground completely forgetting it a moment later, snapping his fingers at his caddie, ordering him to pick it up. Possibly noticing that his behavior was strange. "Seems like I'm not on my game today" he said, changing the expression on his face, returning to a fake smile, as easy as breathing.
Apparently unable to avoid smiling. "Really?" Bob asked, "bad luck" he added, his tone of voice indicating he didn't quite believe it.
Losing his smile for a moment, clenching his jaw tightly. "Yeah" replied Mr. McCarthy, staring at Bob, "but clearly you're not having very good luck either" he added smiling again, as if with that he had managed to return the insult to Bob, a complete novice in the sport where he boasted of being excellent, "so, what do you say we finish here and let the kids play?"
Snorting quietly. "He just doesn't want to ruin his average" Daniel whispered to me, amused.
I didn't know that could happen in a 'friendly' game, but wanting to avoid going below his own standard was totally in character with the little I knew of the man.
"I got ahead of you, I've been doing that all day" declared Bob joking.
Falsely laughing McCarthy nodded before returning to his own cart where, holding his son's shoulder tightly, once again began to talk to him, practically whispering in his ear.
Returning to his seat behind me. "Sorry to put so much pressure on your shoulders" murmured Bob, "but, I really want to beat that motherfucker so keep doing what you're doing" he added placing his hand on my shoulder encouragingly.
Snorting I shook my head, I really didn't know how much longer my luck could last, after all, if I only relied on my own ability to play, I wouldn't be so close to average strokes.
"I'll try dad" I said laughing softly.
Daniel next to me driving the cart, also snorted, possibly thinking the same as me.
Surprisingly, for the next couple of holes my luck kept working, in fact it worked so well that I managed to reach the fifth hole only one stroke over par.
At the end of the fifth hole, as I prepared to 'putt' just a few steps from the flag. "Are you liking golf Duncan?" Ryan asked, and even though I couldn't see him, I felt in every hair of my body the unpleasantly arrogant smile on his face.
"Yeah" I replied, rolling my eyes exasperated, trying to ignore his obvious attempt to distract me.
"Your line is this" Daniel whispered to me who was a few steps away, holding the flag and pointing to the ground with his other free hand, "aim in this direction" he had begun to take his job quite seriously, giving advice beyond what was in the book, taking full advantage of my luck trying to force some technique into my game.
Before I could step forward to hit my ball "I never thought about it, but putting is quite similar to mini golf" declared Ryan again, "maybe I'll take Teddy one of these days, I'm sure she's going to love this" he added slowly.
I knew what he was doing, clearly trying to make me angry or react to lose my concentration, it was painfully obvious, I mean the asshole didn't even try to hide it, but if Case somehow found out that I let my emotions dictate my actions… I wouldn't want to have my head stuck up my ass, but I sure would want to kick Ryan's.
Sighing, calming my mind, I stepped forward and after a fraction of a second of preparation, I hit the ball following the imaginary line Daniel had marked for me.
The ball rolled slowly for several feet until it finally reached the hole, taking a small path around the rim before falling in, sounding like a little drum at the bottom.
Celebrating slightly I clenched my fist tightly, for a moment I found myself genuinely excited, surprisingly there was a lot of adrenaline involved in playing golf.
Taking the ball from the hole, walking toward me. "You made a birdie on your fifth hole ever" said Daniel impressed, as we high-fived.
Assuming that a 'birdie' meant sinking the ball just one stroke before par, I walked with him toward where Ryan was waiting next to his own ball, leaning on his putter.
Even though he tried to hide it, I could clearly see in his eyes how frustrated he was.
Good.
Watching as Ryan chatted with his caddie, surely discussing strategy. "Are you sure it's my luck?" I asked Daniel with a calm smile, speaking loudly enough for Ryan to hear me "I think golf may not be as hard as they painted it, it really seems like any fool can be good at this" I added, raising my eyebrows at the caddie, who shook his head amused, rolling his eyes.
Hearing me, Ryan tilted his head stiffly, surely taking offense at my words. Completely ignoring his caddie who kept talking, Ryan stepped forward and with hardly any preparation hit his ball, causing it to roll quickly, completely jumping the hole, moving a couple of feet away.
Sighing visibly angry, Ryan marched hard toward his ball, his caddie just a few steps behind him shook his head resigned.
Without settling, Ryan hit the ball snorting, directly pushing it into the hole.
A moment later, returning to where his caddie was, he shoved his golf club hard into his hands, walking away without saying anything, leaving the poor worker to recover his ball.
Upon reaching his father, who was a few steps behind him, the silent scolding immediately began, with disappointment in his eyes, Mr. McCarthy pushed his son's chest a couple of times with his index finger, even closing his fist, as if for a second, he was going to hit the teenager, shaking his head disappointed he ordered him to get into the golf cart.
With that extra stroke, we were only one shot apart, which was obviously somewhat humiliating for someone with much more experience.
Bob who was several steps behind us, was waiting with a wide smile. "You made a birdie on your fifth hole" exclaimed Bob, proud.
Not having much else to do besides watch us play, since he obviously wasn't going to have a conversation with Mr. McCarthy, Bob had been reading the book he bought the day before.
Snorting, walking with Bob and Daniel to our golf cart.
The rest of the holes continued basically the same, in some of the pars unfortunately I added more strokes than necessary, reaching the ninth hole three strokes over Ryan, who despite winning kept his brow furrowed, completely forgetting to smile falsely.
Judging by his father's reaction at the end of each hole, Ryan always received scrutiny for possibly not 'mastering' the game absolutely, which somehow made me feel bad… at least for a fraction of a second.
At the ninth hole, a par three, I set the tee with the ball, stretched sighing and saw the flag in the distance, there was no way I could recover three strokes or that Ryan would somehow ruin it.
"You've done better than any beginner could have done in the history of golf" said Daniel, who was still next to me, "I highly doubt even Fred Couples could have done better in his first game" he added handing me the driver.
I had no idea who Fred Couples was, but I still appreciated the kind words of the kind caddie.
Stepping forward with the driver ready in my hands, I breathed in until my lungs were full and exhaled slowly, looking directly at the flag several yards away from where I stood, carefully setting my feet as Daniel had shown me, I closed my eyes, mentally going over everything I had learned during the course of the game; knees barely bent, hips relaxed, shoulders aligned.
Closing my grip with just the right strength, without squeezing too much and keeping my front thumb extended. I turned my torso smoothly backward, feeling how the club rose almost on its own, until reaching the maximum point of the swing, in an instant I opened my eyes and unloaded all the weight of the movement forward, hitting the ball with a clean snap.
The impact vibrated in my hands and the ball shot out, rising in a perfect arc. For a moment it seemed to get lost in the sky, but then it landed firmly in the middle of the green, rolling a few more feet until stopping.
"Holy shit!" Daniel exclaimed incredulous, squinting his eyes to see where the ball ended up, "that's what I'm talking about!" he added a moment later, shaking my shoulders excitedly, "you did it again, that's two hundred ninety yards to the hole" he finished, fixing his behavior, embarrassed by his outburst.
Laughing softly, I crouched to pick up the tee.
As I turned, my eyes immediately met Ryan's, feeling confident enough, I smiled arrogantly. "I just hit it with everything I had" I explained, speaking to Daniel without taking my eyes off Ryan.
On the other side, Ryan held my gaze in silence. He ran his tongue over his lips with a tense gesture, and although he tried to hide it, the furious shine in his eyes was unmistakable.
Leaving the tee box with Daniel, Ryan entered alongside his caddie, who after nine holes had completely given up on giving advice to Ryan, who immediately took position, and without waiting much executed his swing.
His shot was strong, solid, and the ball flew far, reaching a good distance… but not as much as mine, landing several steps outside the green.
Clenching his jaw, Ryan stretched his neck, once again shoved the club into his caddie's hands, walking without turning to look at me toward where his father was waiting with his arms crossed, visibly disappointed.
That was the small moment when I felt bad for the teenager, after all no one deserved to be treated like that by their father... but then he would go and remind me why I couldn't stand him one bit.
Watching his caddie put the clubs back into the rear of the golf cart, Ryan spat on the ground near his feet, causing the worker to jump slightly, dropping a couple of the clubs in the process, making Mr. McCarthy throw out an offensive comment.
After picking up the clubs, keeping a stoic expression with his jaw clenched, the caddie stared at Ryan who returned an arrogant look not caring one bit about how rude his action had been.
Daniel who had also seen what happened, gripping the steering wheel of the golf cart tightly, "little brat" he muttered upset.
"Tell me about it" I said with disgust.
We drove for a couple of seconds until reaching the balls, it was my turn first on the green, after Daniel's explanation about the slope of the course to the hole and my line to follow, I took the putter from his hand, adjusted my posture as he had explained the past eight holes, and taking a deep breath, lowered my eyes and struck calmly. The ball rolled along the flawless surface of the grass and went into the hole with a clean plop. Birdie. Again.
"That's it!" Daniel celebrated loudly, slapping his palm against mine.
Amused I shook my head, I fully understood the excitement, after all I had done pretty well for being a complete novice at the sport, but Ryan would have to hit four more times to tie or five for me to win, so I was pretty sure he had lost.
And I was right, Ryan hit once reaching the green safely and with his next shot finished with a putt to complete par in three strokes, leaving me two strokes up.
As soon as his ball hit the bottom of the hole, Ryan stood up and judging by his reaction, the victory tasted completely bitter to him.
Patting my shoulder. "It's okay, it was fun" Daniel said softly, "at least I had fun" he added pointing discreetly with his head toward Ryan, in the middle of the green, still standing with the putter in his hand.
Nodding I kept watching Ryan, who again was moving his head like his neck hurt, which was pretty obvious, a very poor anger suppression mechanism.
Bob, appearing behind us, breaking my concentration with a strong shoulder hug. "You played incredibly well son, I am very proud of you" he declared pressing my shoulder, "besides, if we take the handicap into account, you really left him on the ground."
"Oh my God, that's right" exclaimed Daniel, in shock, "I had completely forgotten about the handicap, that means you won and by a lot" he declared opening his eyes wide.
No, maybe in the general rules of the game it said I had won, but in reality it wasn't so, I hadn't won and that was fine... at least for someone who understood there was no problem in losing.
Watching Mr. McCarthy walking toward his son who still hadn't moved after 'winning' the game, at least I was pretty clear who had really lost.
Roughly hitting his son's shoulder, disguising it as an affectionate pat, Mr. McCarthy pulled Ryan's neck to once again talk to his son, practically with his mouth against the teenager's ear, a moment later he let him go and walked toward where we were.
"Great game son" Mr. McCarthy told me stretching out his hand offering a shake.
"Thanks" I said neutrally, I had spent enough time with the man in these few hours to know that, if it were up to me, I would never interact with him again.
Opening his arms with an exaggerated sardonic smile. "Looks like we discovered who is the better natural athlete huh Bob?" he asked arrogantly.
Ignoring the other man for a moment. "Good game Ryan, all those years of practice really show" Bob said smiling at the teenager, and for the first time, it seemed like a genuine smile, "years" he repeated slowly looking at Mr. McCarthy immediately changing the genuineness of his smile.
Understanding the meaning of Bob's words, Mr. McCarthy on his part lost his smile for a fraction of a second.
"Yeah" Mr. McCarthy murmured, "it is impressive that this is your first time, almost unbelievable in fact" he added, staring at me.
It was sad to see his attempt at deduction, almost like watching a child try to paint a Renaissance painting with crayons.
Appearing behind his father, apparently finally pulling his head out of his ass. "Yeah, impressive game, you had me against the ropes for a moment there" Ryan said, once again with that irritating arrogant smile on his face, offering his hand.
Looking at his extended hand for a long moment, surely uncomfortable for the rest present, I nodded taking it, really unpleasant.
Smiling at each other, I could feel his grip intensify in strength, which I felt but it didn't really hurt me.
If jiu-jitsu taught anything, apart from a great method of self-defense, and relatively advanced knowledge in anatomy, it was a very strong grip, something Case made us train regularly.
Snorting silently, I began to press slowly increasing the strength every second, even when Ryan released his own grip.
Once I managed to break the mask of his fake smile with a small sign of pain on his face, I let go of his hand, and Ryan shook it off discreetly as if nothing had happened, but I could still see the pain in his eyes.
The silence caused by the long greeting between Ryan and me continued even a couple of seconds after, so much so that I could see Daniel a few steps away from me nervously looking between us, waiting for what seemed was going to happen.
After easily ten seconds in complete silence, Mr. McCarthy snorted "Yeah well son" he said putting his hand on Ryan's shoulder, "PJ may have had you against the ropes for a moment, but remember that to be the best, you have to beat the best" he continued, as if the conversation he referenced hadn't happened quite a while ago, "and unfortunately today, PJ couldn't be the best."
With his jaw clenched. "Well..." Bob murmured, running a hand over his chin, "according to what I read and what Daniel here explained to me" he added pointing at the caddie, "PJ being a complete novice, has quite an important handicap, one much bigger than Ryan's."
Bob's words, once again caused Mr. McCarthy's smile to vanish from his face. "Oh yeah the handicap" the man murmured, not bothering to put a smile back on his face, now showing all the hatred he felt.
Raising an eyebrow, Bob calmly declared. "Then, according to golf rules, PJ won."
Again there was an uncomfortable silence, at least for a fraction of a second, then Ryan let out a dry laugh, almost a snort, clenching his jaw so tightly that the muscles in his neck looked like taut ropes. "Won?" he repeated, practically in a whisper, with disgust, almost disgust.
His father, Mr. McCarthy, clicked his tongue with disdain. "Bah, rules, golf technicalities… a true winner doesn't need handicaps to prove who's better" he said patting his son's shoulder, with enough force to knock the teenager out of his little trance.
It was quite obvious the man would react that way when confronted, nevertheless, how quickly he denied it took me by surprise causing a muffled laugh.
Ryan noticed. He locked eyes with me as if he wanted to rip the smile off my face. "What do you find funny?" he blurted, stepping forward toward me, puffing his chest with clear intentions of seeming intimidating.
Amused by his poor attempt. "A bunch of things kid" I replied, snorting softly crossing my arms.
I had fought against Case possibly hundreds of times and he was, by far, much more intimidating than a fourteen/fifteen year old teenager with daddy issues.
Ryan, losing every moment a little more of his small capacity for anger control. "You're funny" he said, shaking his head clearly upset, "and don't call me kid" he added clenching his fists tightly.
Snorting. "Noted" I said monotonously.
Noticing the tension of the possible imminent fight. "Okay" Bob said, putting a hand on my shoulder, with clear intentions of calming the situation
But it was already too late.
Ryan stood in front of me, less than a handspan away, his breathing fast, sharp. "Again, you're laughing, what's so funny?" he asked me, the veins on his forehead now completely visible contrasting with the red of his skin.
It was impressive what having a bad father did to a teenager.
I looked at him without lowering my gaze. "You better calm down ki- Ryan" I said, stopping just in time.
It hadn't been a mistake.
Ryan's head was so red, it looked about to explode. "Or what?" he asked me.
A barely audible murmur escaped from the caddie, who tensed up seeing us like this. The silence weighed like lead.
Before I could respond. "David, this is getting out of control" Bob said, being the only voice of reason.
"No no, it's going exactly where it has to go, Bob" Mr. McCarthy said, spitting the name with contempt. "Just let the boys be boys, you can't make them stop their path to becoming real men."
"Real men?" Bob asked, incredulous.
Again holding his son's shoulder, pulling him directly to his side. "Yeah" Mr. McCarthy murmured slowly, "as much as I like golf, there's nothing better than a good fight to resolve discussions between real men."
Ryan's eyes lit up immediately, as if he had been given permission, which in a way he had, causing him to straighten his shoulders, puffing his chest like a rooster in full challenge.
Bob, on the other hand, sighed deeply and shook his head. "This is ridiculous-" Bob was saying but McCarthy interrupted him.
Mr. McCarthy gave a crooked smile, a gesture that contained no humor. "Ridiculous? No Bob, ridiculous is working with insects" he exclaimed pushing Bob's chest with a finger, and like his son, "wanting to be the best is nothing ridiculous, it's just man's nature."
Losing any remaining kindness in his eyes, much more serious than I had ever seen him, "of all the stupid things you've said today, this is by far the worst" he murmured, snorting, "the way I support my family is not your damn problem, so keep your dirty finger to yourself before you lose it" he added in a low voice a second later, smacking McCarthy's hand that was still inches from his chest.
Leaving his body frozen in the uncomfortable position where Bob's smack had left him. "That's what I'm talking about, if there is a problem between men, it has to be resolved as such" McCarthy said, smiling widely, "I regret the way I spoke about your business, it wasn't my place" he added a moment later, without a hint of sincerity in his voice.
Daniel, uncomfortable, was looking at everyone as if searching for an emergency exit. "Gentlemen… I think-"
"Silence, boy," McCarthy cut him off with a brusque gesture, not even deigning to look at him, "so what do you say?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Bob's face "let's let the boys be men."
Ryan, in front of me, clenching and unclenching his fists, surely replaying in his mind the punch he wanted to throw at me, kept breathing heavily.
The guy definitely needed therapy.
Still frowning, Bob tore his gaze from McCarthy, looking at me with silent doubt.
"Why not?" I asked, immediately seeing Ryan's expression return to his arrogant smile.
Yup, I didn't see a single reason why not.
"That's it" Mr. McCarthy exclaimed, gripping his son's shoulder tightly, who until that moment had been completely still.
Without wasting much time we returned to the golf carts.
As we drove back to the club. "Is this a good idea?" Daniel asked me in a low voice, "I've heard he's really good."
With the strange calm that always flooded me before a fight. "You could say I'm good too" I said, shrugging.
Gabe, who had run out of battery on his handheld console. "Good at what?" he asked, interested.
Bob, who hadn't said a word since we got back to the cart. "Oh" he murmured, as if just remembering something problematic, "do you think there's a way to keep your mother from finding out?" he asked me in a low voice, leaning toward me from the back seat.
It was an excellent question, one I had no intention of trying to answer.
Seeing that I had no answer to his question. "Yeah... I think the same" Bob murmured, defeated. "Try to keep yourself as clean as possible."
Snorting. "I'll try" I replied.
On the way back, I made sure to explain to Gabe what was about to happen, without really going deep into reasoning, sparking my brother's interest in seeing a fight.
When we returned to the main building of the country club, leaving the golf carts behind, we followed on foot the McCarthy father and son, who, by the way they were walking so closely together, seemed to be discussing strategy.
Along the way in the luxurious hallways of the gym, we passed by what looked like the restaurant of the place, hearing some female voices for a moment causing us all to stop suddenly.
The girls, including Mr. McCarthy's girlfriend, were at a table apparently enjoying a coffee after their brunch, calling us again we all approached the table.
"How was golf" mom asked, holding Bob's arm.
"Fun" Bob replied stiffly.
Looking at me surprised. "Really?" mom asked.
"Yeah, surprisingly I had fun" I replied sincerely, I didn't know if enough to play again by choice, but it wasn't so bad... the game itself, not the company.
Nodding slowly. "Good" mom murmured, "where were you going?" she asked, interested.
Surely from her point of view, the way we were all walking toward the gym was strangely intense.
Before Bob could, possibly, make something up. "PJ and Ryan are going to fight" Gabe replied excitedly, causing the rest of the women at the table to turn their attention to Gabe.
A second later. "What?" mom asked, frowning.
Being surprisingly more emotionally intelligent than anyone would bet. "It's just a little training Amy, to see what the boys are capable of" Mr. McCarthy interrupted, explaining, "right Bob?" he added, taking Bob's shoulder, 'friendly.'
"Right" Bob replied, stiffly.
Shaking her head slightly. "I don't know..." mom murmured.
"It's okay mom, it's just light training" I said, on purpose so Ryan, who was chatting with Teddy and Meredith again with a pleasant mask on his face, would hear me, effectively bothering him judging by his body language.
Sighing. "All right, but I don't want you ending up hurt" mom said.
That wasn't in my plans.
"And I also don't want Gabe watching" mom added belatedly.
Throwing his arms up, offended. "Mom!" my brother complained.
"I don't like at all that your brother fights, even if it's just training" mom said, putting emphasis on the last part pointing at me in warning, "I like even less that you watch" she added, turning her attention back to my brother.
Deciding it would be useless to try to change mom's mind on his own. "Dad!" Gabe exclaimed, almost pleading.
Thinking for a second. "There's nothing wrong with Gabe watching a little training Amy, like those days when Case lived outside the house."
Excited to receive Bob's support. "Yeah mom, just like that time with Case" Gabe said quickly.
Clenching her jaw, mom stayed silent for several seconds until finally, sighing, she nodded. "All right."
"Yes!" Gabe exclaimed, raising his arms.
Rolling her eyes exasperatedly at Mr. McCarthy's girlfriend. "Boys" mom declared, with deep meaning behind her words, causing the other woman to snort, nodding.
With mom's 'permission,' we continued our way now with the addition of Diane, Teddy and Meredith, the last two now walking next to Ryan in front of us.
Taking my hand gently. "Are you okay?" Diane asked me.
Once again, surprised by Diane's emotional reading, I looked at her for a second in silence. "Yeah" I replied, smiling.
Despite the fact that the idiot was talking to my sister, laughing as if he had no worries in his life, it bothered me quite a bit, but luckily my mind was completely serene, I felt a slight itch in my knuckles at the idea of wiping that stupid smile off Ryan's face with a punch, but I didn't feel the anxiety of fighting that I was sure, just by seeing how tightly the idiot's hands were clenched, he was feeling.
Shortly after, entering a gym, like the rest of the club, extravagantly designed, the characteristic disinfectant smell hit me immediately.
In front of us, after a ton of machines of all kinds, surely one for every muscle in the body, was the professional ring, perfectly lit, surrounded by red and blue ropes that looked like they had never been used before. On the sides, heavy bags, speed bags and more equipment along with many pictures of boxers hanging on the walls.
Mr. McCarthy approached a gym worker, speaking to the man in a low voice for a second and slipping him a bill while keeping his falsely humble smile.
Quickly, Ryan and I had our own equipment delivered by the club, which really only consisted of a pair of gloves for each of us, the kind padded only at the knuckles, leaving the palms of the hands free, if I remembered correctly they were karate style.
Approaching where Bob was helping me warm up. "So, son" Mr. McCarthy said, "Ryan is interested in all those martial arts you train" he added with a certain mockery in his tone.
I understood where the egocentric man wanted to go, a 'real' fight where Ryan and I used any tool we had at hand.
Despite that. "I can give him a good discount at my gym if he wants" I said, smiling calmly, causing the man to lose any expression on his face.
I wouldn't let any McCarthy get near the gym, I liked the place too much to let unpleasant people ruin it.
Snorting, but keeping his face expressionless. "I'm not talking about that" the man said, shaking his head "Ryan wants a real fight."
Yup, I knew it.
"I know how to throw kicks, it's a pretty big advantage against a boxer" I declared calmly.
To be honest I had no problem kicking the idiot.
Returning to his sardonic smile. "Oh don't worry about that" Mr. McCarthy said casually, "Ryan hasn't only trained boxing, he's been training taekwondo for years" he added, pointing with his head to where his son was.
Ryan was warming up hitting the air and throwing all kinds of kicks, pretty flashy, but really nothing to worry about.
"All right then, I'll show him what I have" I declared, joking slightly.
"Good, Ryan will too" the man replied slowly, patting my shoulder.
I really hope so.
With no referee we agreed on a 'sparring' of three rounds, three minutes each, starting and ending with the gym alarm, a moment later Mr. McCarthy stepped back to his son.
Helping me with the second glove. "Are you sure about this PJ?" Bob asked me seriously, apparently completely willing to walk away.
"Don't worry dad" I assured him, still feeling as calm as before, "I'm fine" I added, noticing Ryan's gaze from the other side of the ring completely fixed on me.
Stretching my torso one last time, now shirtless, I moved my legs testing the freedom that the non-sport shorts gave me, luckily they didn't restrict my movement much.
After his father gave him a couple more instructions. With fake casualness, Ryan climbed into the ring, bouncing impatiently. It was clear he couldn't wait for the fight to start.
Good.
Patting the gloves on my hands. "Okay, be careful up there" Bob told me with a small smile.
Before I could climb into the ring, Diane, visibly worried, came close giving me a quick hug. "Don't let him hurt you, please" she whispered.
It wasn't in my plans, but still. "Don't worry" I said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Since the last time Diane saw me spar with Tim, she always let me know, every time I got a little training injury, how much she disliked how much my 'hobby' hurt me.
Pulling away from Diane, I saw Teddy, Gabe and Meredith, who were standing a bit further away anxiously watching the 'sparring,' Teddy and Gabe seemed excited, while Meredith was visibly nervous, frowning with her hands tightly pressed.
Winking at my siblings, I turned bouncing lightly before climbing into the ring, where I moved around getting used to the new ring.
Walking in circles, opening and closing his fists tightly. "Finally" Ryan said, visibly eager.
Also walking in the ring, but taking relaxed steps. "Relax kid" I said, smiling slightly at his reaction.
During all this time training with him, I had learned many things from Case, especially the importance of staying calm in a fight, because 'in a fight, victory belongs to the one who keeps his mind clear and his focus on his strategy' so if I could somehow affect Ryan's focus I didn't need to fight to know I would win, unfortunately Case didn't teach me any of that... but, House did.
Ryan stopped dead, his face quickly turned red and the veins on his forehead again looked about to burst. "I told you not to call me kid" he murmured through clenched teeth, slowly.
Tilting my head slightly, closing my eyes for a second. "Oh right, you did I'm sorry" I said, falsely regretful, not bothering at all to make it sound real.
Before either of the two could say anything else about it, the alarm that marked every three minutes inside the gym sounded, causing Ryan, without waiting a fraction of a second more, to let out a small furious scream and practically launch himself at me, throwing a front kick as soon as he was close enough.
The distance was enough to easily allow me to step aside from his direction with a single step.
Landing practically behind me, Ryan could not resist a low kick, which for a second made him lose his balance, which, giving him a bit of credit, he quickly regained, turning with his guard up waiting for a continuation of my kick that never came.
If I had wanted to, the fight could have easily ended at that moment after all, with his desperate attack I could have taken advantage of the idiot giving me his back to make some hold... but, that would not be satisfying.
Smiling calmly, constantly shifting my stance. "Come on, you have to do better than that" I said, watching the teenager clench his jaw, "after all you don't want to disappoint daddy even more" I added sarcastically, making a little pout.
Apparently learning from his mistake, ignoring completely the instructions his father shouted desperately, Ryan approached still clearly furious, throwing combinations of punches along with fast kicks, and to be honest, quite strong... unfortunately for him, not as fast or strong as Tim or Case.
Patting his punches away from my direction, dodging and occasionally blocking or absorbing a body shot, checking all his kicks, I moved around the ring feeling the ease of the fight.
Clearly Case was right, a person who fights with a disordered mind had no way of winning.
Dodging a high kick stepping toward him, I pushed Ryan against the ropes behind me, hitting his body with enough force that he had to struggle to keep his guard up.
I had no intention of ending the fight there, but I easily could have.
Dodging a blow clearly meant to push me away, I got Ryan's back only with the intention of wasting more time, and if possible making him even angrier.
"Fight you fucking coward!" Ryan exclaimed, trying with failed elbow strikes to free himself from me.
Shifting my hold from his back to his neck. "Are you sure?" I asked softly near his ear, "I'm having fun, aren't you kid?".
Truth be told, I might have been pushing it a bit.
"Fuck you" he spat breathing erratically, trying with all his strength to get away from me, or to free himself from my hold throwing more blows in the general direction of my head, he missed them all.
While with one hand he kept trying to hit me, I could feel the nails of his other hand digging into my arm, trying to separate my fingers pressing tightly on my own bicep, without enough strength, or technical knowledge it was clear, at least to me, that he would achieve nothing, but for Ryan, it seemed he did not quite understand that in that position, I could finish him whenever I wanted... so I showed him.
Increasing the strength of my grip a little for a second, I felt his body tense as he felt the pressure on his neck. Satisfied with my demonstration I released Ryan, causing him to have to step back dodging an immediate blow with the side of his fist.
Seeing him run his hand over his neck, I smiled ironically, I was sure he had understood the message.
Breathing hard, Ryan completely covered in sweat, brought his hands back to a high boxing guard, his eyes almost as red as his face, which was quite scary, mostly for his health.
To be honest it was a bit unfair how easy it was for me to deal with him, being anyone else Ryan would be a formidable opponent, but I had been facing almost daily for months monsters like Case, Tim and a bunch of not so experienced people but who helped me understand how to fight against different people.
Before Ryan could approach again, the alarm sounded marking the end of the first five-minute round, without taking his eyes off me, with clear hatred in them, Ryan retreated panting, frustrated, to where his dad was waiting who was just as red as his son, apparently a genetic trait or something.
Walking calmly to my corner of the ring, with a bit of sweat on my body, but with my breathing perfectly controlled. "Good job son" I heard Bob's voice, full of pride, as he entered with a bottle of water in his hand and a towel, "looks like you're playing with him" he added.
And he was not entirely wrong, Ryan was not fighting smartly, so simply by being faster than him and staying calm and focused I could continue like that as long as I wanted.
Drinking water with Bob's help I nodded gratefully, keeping my gaze on the other side.
Mr. McCarthy, without giving water to his son, was holding his hip walking around his son, shaking his head from time to time, clearly not satisfied with Ryan's results, who on his part kept looking at me seeming completely livid with rage.
A few seconds later, the alarm that sounded a minute after the first went off, marking the end of the minute of rest.
Ryan apparently recovering some breath and possibly energized by his father's 'support,' once again shot out without hesitation, reaching me in a couple of steps and returning to his desperate attempt to hit me.
"Stop dodging damn it" he growled each word as he threw a punch, "I'm going to fucking kill you" he added snorting maniacally not loudly enough to be heard over Mr. McCarthy's furious shouts and the encouragement of Bob, Gabe and Teddy, who were still watching the fight excitedly, unlike Diane and Meredith, who looked more worried than anything.
His punches had been so erratic that in general they were easy to redirect, but quite difficult to dodge, taking a mismeasured step, accidentally while pushing one of Ryan's kicks, I ended up badly positioned and with my guard open.
Taking advantage of that small fraction of a second, Ryan advanced, not caring that one of his feet was practically in the air, pushing his fist, this time connecting with my face.
With the sudden hit, I quickly pulled away from Ryan's attempt to continue his lucky strike. Focusing again on my defense, I tasted the metallic taste of blood on my lips, the punch had opened me up a little.
Smiling maniacally, as if he had already won, Ryan dropped his arms, which surely were completely exhausted, along with his legs, apparently that single hit was enough to take him out of his frenzy.
Wiping the sweat from his face. "You don't know how long I've waited for that" Ryan declared, closing his guard again.
Snorting, I advanced with Ryan to the center of the ring. "What, falling down, and by pure luck managing to hit me?" I asked amused, dodging a jab and calmly kicking his leg again.
Pretending that my kick did not hurt him at all. "That wasn't luck" Ryan declared.
"Whatever you say... kid" I said, running my tongue over my lips, wiping away any trace of blood.
My insistence on using 'kid' as a kind of insult once again achieved its goal, making Ryan blindly charge to attack me.
Dodging once again a kick directed at my torso, for the first time I hit Ryan's side with real force, making him drop his guard just a little, allowing me access to his face which I immediately struck, following with a quick combination of body shots.
Retreating, avoiding a kick from Ryan that he used to make space, I slightly lowered my guard calmly moving my hands, watching the idiot with his jaw completely clenched, trembling gaze and veins in his neck about to burst, recover a little from my punishment.
Pointing in front of me. "That, that is not luck" I declared, raising my eyebrows arrogantly.
Ignoring what I was sure was a strong pain in his body and face. "Shut up" he ordered me, advancing toward me again.
Once again I focused on simply defending myself, making it so that every time I pushed or dodged him, his rage became more evident. "You're a fucking bookworm" Ryan said between gasps, "your dad is a fucking bug eater" he added, surprisingly pushing his body to keep attacking me even though it was obvious he was completely exhausted.
The moment I saw his punches begin to lose strength as he went on, I felt genuine pity for Ryan, seeing behind him how his father shouted furiously hitting the ring with his open palm, ordering him to be more aggressive.
I stepped back, easily moving away from the exhausted teenager.
Resting his hands on his knees, Ryan took a strong breath, slowly standing a moment later, with lines of sweat that could easily be mistaken for tears streaming down his face, he prepared again, frowning at seeing my face.
Maybe some of my pity for the boy was showing on my face, something that visibly bothered Ryan.
Just before he could do anything, the gym alarm sounded, the second round had ended and Ryan stood frozen in the middle of the ring, his arms defeated at his sides, seeming completely unable to step back staring straight at me.
With my jaw clenched, I made the decision to end the fight 'surrendering,' not really caring how the situation would look, I did not have enough hatred toward Ryan to continue what clearly was not a fair fight, with what I now saw, was a boy affected by a very bad father figure.
Genuinely making a stupid mistake by believing that the teenager with clear anger issues would have a shred of sportsmanship, I turned preparing to get out of the ring.
I had not taken a single step toward where Bob was waiting for me. "Watch out!" Bob exclaimed, pointing behind me.
Reacting quickly, I turned losing my balance thanks to Ryan crashing into my side. Losing the air in my lungs for a moment, I fell to the ground immediately covering my head and part of my sides, forcing myself to breathe again.
Falling on top of me, Ryan mounted on my torso, hitting my arms while shouting furiously.
Blinded by his own rage, Ryan's striking technique, although it really could cause damage if left unchecked, was terrible, as was his mount.
It was clear that Ryan had never trained jiu jitsu and, unfortunately for him, even though I was on the ground, his lack of technique gave me an overwhelming advantage.
At the same time Bob entered the ring, clearly intending to pull Ryan off me, having recovered my breath, I dodged one of the desperate punches, holding his arm and immediately with practiced grace freed my legs placing them in a triangle choke.
Ignoring the hits to my leg with his free hand, I kept my grip on his wrist. "Surrender" I ordered, shifting my hip a little, trying to show him as before, my ability to choke him.
Bob who had entered the ring, seeing the hold I achieved froze not knowing what to do, at the same time, Mr. McCarthy seeing Bob inside the ring, also rushed to enter, as if he were ready to fight himself.
Which from the little I knew of him, was quite likely to happen.
Ryan ignoring my order, continued fighting, trying with the rest of his strength to get out of my hold, all without any result.
Knowing that I could not release Ryan without him attacking me or anyone else, so, raising my hip fully, I waited a couple of seconds until Ryan finally stopped fighting.
Knowing that Ryan would not have the mental capacity to fake losing consciousness, I immediately released him, quickly standing to check on him, but before I could fully approach, Mr. McCarthy pushed me. "Stay away from him" he ordered, kneeling on the ground next to his son.
"Hey!" exclaimed Bob stepping forward with clear intentions of fighting him.
Managing to get to my feet before Bob could reach us, I stopped him, immediately shaking my head.
I was not very worried, since I knew the blood flow deprivation had not been very long, so without saying a word, I pushed Bob out of the ring.
Now I understood it was not worth it. Leaving the equipment borrowed from the club and dressing in my clothes regardless of my sweaty body, we left the gym together with my siblings and Diane, who were completely silent staring at Ryan and his father who were still in the ring.
Just before leaving the room, we saw how finally the teenager slowly regained consciousness.
The silence of my siblings and Diane, incredulous of what had happened, lasted for several seconds as we walked farther and farther from the gym.
Diane being the first to come out of the shock, quickly moved forward hugging me tightly, clearly scared by the fight and possibly by Ryan's actions.
Patting her back lightly. "I'm fine," I assured her, something I repeated on separate occasions, both to Teddy and to Meredith.
Gabe for his part, during the entire way, only looked at me with what I could distinguish as amazement, despite that, contrary to what I would expect, he remained in complete silence even after mom managed to say goodbye to Mr. McCarthy's girlfriend.
In little time, without seeing the McCarthys again, we left the club heading to the cabin.
During the way back and even already in the cabin, apart from vague answers to mom's questions, no one said anything about the fight... at least not until later that night, when Gabe entered my room suspiciously closing the door behind him.
Closing his eyes for a second with his ear pressed to the closed door, Gabe slowly turned, surely finding my puzzled gaze.
Opening his eyes wide, Gabe smiled. "That was amazing" he declared as if it were an irrefutable fact.
Snorting, I shook my head, from the way he had looked at me since the fight had ended, I could imagine that was what my brother thought. "Thanks?" I said as a question since I really did not know what to respond.
"No, I'm serious" said Gabe seriously, "you were like Rocky, Dalton and Frank, doing wah! and fua!" he exclaimed punching and kicking the air, "and then, when I thought you were about to lose, you went zua! and choked him until you knocked him out" he added throwing himself on the floor, making a comical imitation of a hold.
"Don't hurt yourself" I said calmly, worried about my little brother.
Stopping abruptly, still lying on the floor, Gabe turned his head looking at me intently. "I want to learn to fight like you" he said in a low voice, as if he had come to a divine realization.
Snorting, I shook my head amused. "I don't have any problem with you going to the gym to train" I said, slowly getting to my feet, visibly causing Gabe to get excited, "you just have to convince mom" I added.
Losing immediately any smile on his face, in fact deflating on the floor, Gabe stared up at the ceiling of the room, completely defeated.
---
Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, not a fighter, not Magnus Carlsen, not Michael Phelps, not Arsene Lupin, not McLovin, not Elliot, not Capone and not Tiger Woods.
Another chapter has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to especially thank:
11332223
RandomPasserby96
Victor_Venegas
I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.
Thank you for reading! :D
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