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by Pi Rae Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Other · Drama · #1546876
Blind female boxer learns self-sufficiency,
        The small arena hummed with excitement.  Spectators in every seat chatted excitedly about the upcoming fight, half-shouting to be heard over the mass noise.  Suddenly, the  lights lowered, and the spotlight shone on the ring.  Two girls entered, facing each other with a fierce intensity. 
        The boxer on the right was tall and lanky.  Her dark brown hair had been shorn to avoid hindrance, not reaching more than two inches in length.  Immense  muscles flexed under her skin as she bounced gently to keep her blood flowing.  Her jaw line and cheek bones cut severe angles on her face.  Putting her mouthpiece in, she glared at her opponent. 
Her opponent met the gaze with a challenge of her own.  Her short, stocky stature made her seem small in comparison.  But her muscles were more compact, more powerful.  She pulled her dishwater hair up tightly, securing it far out of the way.  Fierce gray eyes met the opposing brown ones.   
        The bell sounded the start of the fight.  Both women bounced on the balls of their feet, circling each other.  Anticipating the other’s attack, both held their fists high, gloves protecting the face, elbows protecting the torso.  Fists began flying.  The lanky fighter cornered the stocky girl and pounded her ribcage.  The prey struggled  for a moment, and then  wrapped her arms around her assailant to stop the barrage, and delivered a vicious left hook.  The taller girl reeled and fell to the floor.
        She climbed unsteadily back to her feet.  Regaining her footing, she ducked beneath her opponent’s fists, jabbing hard into the opposing torso.  As the other girl instinctively hunched, the lanky fighter stood tall and drove a crushing right hook into her opponent’s face.  Taken by surprise, the stocky girl hesitated in reacting for a split second.

********
        The usually teeming beach was oddly vacant.  The weather had said something about an incoming storm, but the skies were a flawless dome of azure.  Charles shielded his face; the sunbeams reflecting off the clear blue water dazzled his eyes.  He sighed deeply, soaking in the heat and tranquility.  His toes curled in the pure, white sugar sand.  Many afternoons spent in this very spot had given his skin the look of an over-baked tourist.  Hazel eyes squinted as he scanned the horizon looking for clouds.  As the gentle breeze lifted a lock of his dark brown hair, he thought about Gayle and the incoming storm.
        Gayle had been an amateur boxing champion.  Most coaches only dreamed of meeting a fighter like her.  She was shorter than most fighters, but that made it easier for her to build bulk.  Her silhouette looked chiseled; every muscle was distinguishable beneath the skin.  Her long, dishwater hair was a failed attempt at softening her appearance.  A primal, hungry fire blazed in her small, grey eyes as she pounded her opponent.  She trained with as much passion as she fought, pushing herself beyond her limits in order to improve. 
        Gayle’s dedication had made her love of fighting much more than a hobby.  She had been his one and only fighter for almost seven years.  They’d spent endless nights in small, dirty gyms, training for that one specific moment.  She was the only person he’d ever met who could match his love for the sport.  Before long, her hobby was ready to be a career.
        But after the last fight, his Gayle disappeared.  She was swallowed by the empty shell that remained.  The split-second hesitation had given the opposing boxer an opportunity to bombard her face until the blood vessels in her eyes burst, leaving her completely blind.  He’d hoped that by bringing her here, she would be able to escape the real world long enough to heal.  But no matter what they did, nothing seemed to phase the bubble of distance between her and her surroundings.
********
        Gayle ran a brush through her limp, dry hair.  More than once she’d considered cutting it off, but something about its length seemed to comfort her.  It was almost as if her hair was the one thing about herself she could still feel.  The smell of the ocean floated in on a gentle breeze coming from the open window.  Seagulls called to each other as waves gently pounded the beach.  She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face, but none of it made the world feel concrete. 
        She knew that Charles cared deeply for her.  But he didn’t understand that caring didn’t help.  She had been rendered incapable of what she was born to do.  Without boxing, she didn’t have an identity.  The purpose in her life was gone, and there had been nothing left to replace it.  She’d been training since the age of fourteen, her entire future had been in the ring.  Things were simple when all she had to do was beat her challenger.  At least the challenger was tangible. 
      Without the need to build bulk, she lost her appetite.  She could feel how her clothing hung on her.  They weren’t like they were hers anymore, they belonged to someone else.  Running a finger up her torso, she could count ribs through the skin.  The feel of her collarbones was disturbing, as was the hardness of her jawbone, and counting the separate vertebrae in her neck and back.
        She heard the door downstairs open and close, followed by the sound of bare feet on the hard wood floor.  Sighing, she realized that Charles must be in from his afternoon on the beach.  That meant that it was almost time for dinner.  She stood up and slowly walked downstairs to meet him.

*********
         Charles walked into the house and headed for the kitchen.  The evening was approaching, indicating that dinnertime was close.  Pulling a pot and pasta from cabinets, he set about preparing a meal. 
         “How was the beach?”  He jumped, startled.  Gayle had approached quietly, and he hadn’t been aware of her presence. 
         “It was nice.  We’re supposed to get a big storm tonight.”
         “Yeah, I heard about it on the radio.  How does it look outside?”
         “Not a cloud in the sky right now, but the wind’s starting to blow a little harder.”  He set the table for two, and set the fettuccini in the center of the table.  Serving some for himself and some for her, they sat down to a silent meal. 
         When the last bite had been eaten and plates were set aside, Charles took a deep breath.  Clasping his hands under the table, he stared intently at the glass pepper shaker in the middle of the table.
         “Gayle, I have something to tell you.  I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I really think that we’re up against a wall here.  We’ve been here for three weeks, and nothing has changed.  You don’t seem interested in anything I can offer, and we can’t live on the beach in silence forever.  I just don’t know what else to do.  So…  I’ve decided to leave.”  He watched her face closely, waiting for any kind of reaction.  She tapped a finger on the table for a moment.
         “I see.  You’re decided to leave,” she murmured as if turning it over in her mind.  She rose to her feet.  “I can’t say as I blame you.  Who would want to support a useless weakling?”
         “Gayle, that’s not what this is about.  This is about your unwillingness to heal.  You are not helpless, and you certainly aren’t weak.  Christ!  I’ve said this to you, over and over, until I’m blue in the face.  That’s why I’m leaving.  God knows I tried, but I can’t help you!”  He had risen to his feet in the middle of his outburst, but now sank back into his chair.  His fingertips rubbed his temples as he gritted his teeth. 
         “So you’re just going to abandon me?  You have no idea what I’m going through!  Put yourself in my shoes, Charles.  There was one thing on this planet I was born to do, and now I can’t do it anymore.  There’s nothing for me to do, nothing I’m good for.  I wish I was dead!”  Her fists curled as she ran to the door, knocking over the hall table in the rush. 
***********
         Gayle stumbled on the grass outside falling temporarily to her knees.  Charles had been right behind her, but she didn’t want to wait.  She just wanted to run until she couldn’t feel anything anymore.  She ran in the direction of the beach, again falling to her knees in the sand.
         “Gayle!  Stop!  Please!”  Strong hands grabbed her shoulders.  She fought his grasp, pushing and kicking until he let her go.
         “Don’t touch me, you bastard!  How can you leave me like this?  You said we were in this together, how is that possible if you’re going?  You lied to me!  I trusted you and you lied to me.” 
         “Gayle, I didn’t lie to you.  You quit before I did.  The only thing I’m certain of in this whole situation is that you’ve completely given up.  This is a sink or swim situation, Gayle, and you’re so far under the water that I can’t find you.”  She pulled away from him and stood up, facing the ocean.  She could hear the waves, and thunder rolling almost imperceptibly in the distance.  She could feel her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, as though the physical pain could ease the emotional.
         “Am I going to change your mind?”  she asked softly.
         “No.”  His single word response was absolute.  Feeling torn in half, Gayle slowly counted her steps back to the beach house, with Charles following her silently.  As they entered the house, the thunder rumbled loudly, and lightning streaked across the horizon.
***********
         The next morning was as clear as the previous day had been.  Charles zipped up his second suitcase and carried it to the door.  Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he savored the scent of salt water in the air.  He would miss this place. When he opened his eyes, Gayle stood in front of him.  Her vacant eyes still struck him as eerie, and he jumped.  She moved more silently now than she ever had.
         “Big storm last night.”
         “Yeah, I guess the weather channel was right, for once.”  Her mouth stretched into a forced smile.  “So when is your flight?” 
         “The taxi’s actually waiting for me.  I’m glad you came down.”  He gazed at her, trying to see any remnants of the woman he once knew.  He stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, but she stepped back, avoiding his embrace.
         “I will never forget this, Charles.  You know better than anyone that I don’t forgive backstabbers.”  Her mouth set in a thin line, and her fists planted themselves at her hips. 
         “I’m sorry you feel that way.  I’ve made arrangements for transportation back to your parents’ house.  There will be a taxi waiting for you on Thursday.  One day you’ll realize that I did this for you.”  His eyebrows knitted, and he chewed on his lip.  If possible, her face grew even more callous. 
         “Don’t bullshit me.  You did this for you.”  She turned on her heel and stalked away.  With a lump rising in his throat, he turned and walked outside to the waiting cab.
***********
         Charles patted his face with a towel.  Looking around the gym, he smiled.  It had taken him two years, but he finally did it.  He owned this place.  Everything, from the bright orange punching bags to the dark blue floor mats, was his.  There was even a small room in the back with a TV, a VCR and thousands of tapes filled with fights.  He had also hired a few boxing trainers.  His little gym was becoming a boxing school. 
         Wiping the back of his neck, he headed towards the office.  There had been some new membership applicants this week, and he needed to review their files before granting approval.  Sitting down in front of the computer, he decided to check the weather for the rest of the week.  Suddenly, the phone rang, breaking the silence of the empty gym.  Grabbing the receiver, he answered, trying out the new phone greeting.
         “Chuck’s Boxing Academy, how can I help you?”
         “Charles?”
         “Speaking, who’s this?”
         “Hi, Charles, it’s Gayle.  Listen, I know it’s been a long time, but I was wondering if you would like to come over to my apartment for lunch.”
© Copyright 2009 Pi Rae (blatantmystery at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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