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Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Seven Years Ago
“I can’t believe I’m in the final round.” Jenny is all but dancing.
“Stand still, will you,” but Chad grins as he works. “How am I supposed to wrap the magic knuckles with
you jumping up and down like that?”
She subsides, but the thrill is still in her voice. “It’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“It hasn’t happened to you. You’ve made it happen yourself. I know how hard you’ve worked and you’ve
learned a lot too, as you went through the rounds.”
“Mmmm, yes I have. I was watching Josh on all his bouts. He’s really clever you know. You can see
him thinking as he fights. Some of them just lash out, keeping punching, but he’s thinking all the time.”
“Mmmm.” Chad’s reply is non-committal, his voice flat, but Jenny doesn’t notice.
The tannoy blarts out in nasal tomes, Competitors Monica DeLucia and Jennifer Conners, please
report to the ring.
Jenny takes her corner. Her opponent for this final bout is a far cry from Kelly of the first round. Jenny
has watched Monica in each of the competition rounds and knows she is fast, skilled and unafraid….
But so am I…
Monica is shorter than Jenny, but for a girl, is immensely muscular, with a stocky build and powerful
biceps and shoulders. Her long dark hair is tied back, off-setting an olive complexion and a face that
might be pretty, if it were not permanently fixed in a scowl.
“Watch yourself with this one,” mutters Chad from the side. “I watched her in some of the earlier
rounds. She fights with her temper. She wants to win too much. And I’ve been listening to her teachers.
It’s not just boxing she does. She’s into free-style fighting and she pumps iron. That’s where she’s got
those shoulder muscles from. She’s not as long in the limb as you, but anything she does land on you
is going to hurt.”
Jenny bounces on the spot, warming muscles and limbering up. “She doesn’t scare me.” Original from NôvelDrama.Org.
“No? Well, see how’s she’s looking at you.”
Monica is eye-balling Jenny, the whites of her eyes showing in a hard glare.
“She’s just trying to psych me out. It’s not gonna work.”
The referee is announcing them to the crowd. “Time to go,” says Chad. “Good luck.” He pushes the
mouthguard at her.
The referee calls them together. “Shake hands, please, ladies.”
Jenny offers a gloved hand and Monica nudges her own glove against it, but the glower on her face
gives the lie to any show of good manners or sportsmanship.
“Three rounds, two minutes,” says the ref. He raises a hand and as the bell rings, drops it.
Monica almost charges forward, her guard raised, and as she closes in, her left fist jabs out, and then
again, her right fist hot behind it with a punch that connects with the side of Jenny’s face in a skull-
rattling blow.
This is an entirely different class of opponent to anyone Jenny has faced before. Monica seriously
wants to win and is armed in both body and attitude. Rattled, Jenny steps back. She jabs, testing
Monica’s defences, but the girl blocks and punches again. This time Jenny is ready, and the blow
doesn’t connect, but still, she is wary now, her head still ringing.
Monica attacks again. Once more, jab, jab, punch and another bone-jarring blow connects with Jenny’s
jaw. She backs off to find herself against the ropes….
What is she doing wrong?
And then she sees it….
Despite the pain and the swelling she feels around her cheekbone, it is so obvious.
And Jenny laughs….
Monica looks startled at her reaction, but not for long. Jenny moves towards her, jabbing quickly and
easily in a rain of strikes that force the heavier girl to back away. Then reversing, Jenny claims the
centre of the ring. She is free to move now. Dancing around her opponent, she punches, once, twice,
three times. With each hit she skips in close, then moves away. With each hit, Monica staggers, and
just as Jenny thinks she may go down….
…. the bell rings….
Chad is waiting for her. “You had me worried there for a minute.” He fishes the guard out from her
mouth, peers at her face. “Just as well you’re wearing a head guard, or you’d have a flat ear.” He
swipes her over with a cool, damp cloth.
“I’ve never fought with someone shorter than me before,” she gasps, recapturing breath. “They’ve all
been tall. She’s short, so she has to come right in. All I have to do is either stay back, or get in so close
that she can’t put power behind it.”
“You’ve got it,” he nods.
The bell rings.
“Go for it, Champ.”
And this time, Jenny is ready. She springs towards her opponent, but stops short of her ‘punching
space’. A feint to the right; Monica swings her head to the side, only to meet Jenny’s glove coming from
the left. She gasps, but already her own attack is live and, charging in, she lands a hard blow in
Jenny’s ribs that knocks the breath from her before she stabs forward with both fists, then jumps back
again.
Now more evenly matched, the girls have the measure of each other, each making as many strikes as
misses. When the bell rings again, Jenny feels the bruising to her ribs, but Monica has an eye closing
up fast.
“That hurting?” asks Chad.
“Yup.”
“You’ll be able to have a hot bath later.”
She shrugs. “I had broken ribs once. This isn’t nearly as bad. How am I doing?”
“You’re about neck and neck on points, I think. Let me wipe that blood.”
“What blood?”
“Your lip’s split.”
“Oh!” Reflexively, she tries to touch her mouth, but with the gloves on….
“Let me. That’s what I’m here for.” Chad dabs at it.
The bell rings again.
He slaps her on the shoulder. “Final round. Good luck.”
She takes the sparest of seconds to look out at the audience. Half are screaming and yelling for
Monica, the other half for Jenny. Josh grins across at her, giving her a thumbs-up. Mrs Collier sits
primly next to the cheering farm hands, and Mr Kalkowski endlessly cleans the bowl of his pipe,
watching over the top of his spectacles….
…. and then her opponent comes bullying in, her face a mask of anger. She barrels into Jenny,
punching hard as she goes, landing one… two… three blows on the taller girl, before Jenny backs up
to get her distance, then flings in one punch after another, up and over Monica’s defence, then down
and under.
Monica charges in close, striking hard into already sore ribs. Jenny grunts as she dances back and
around, striking out and scoring on the shoulder, then again, this time catching her opponent in the
face.
Roaring as she surges in again, Monica drips blood from her nose. It trickles down her face, then
sprays as Jenny’s glove connects. There’s fury in her eyes and once more she aims for the bruised
ribs. The referee is behind them, his line of sight broken for just a moment, and in that second, Monica
punches low, catching Jenny in the gut.
The crowd whistles and hoots as she staggers. Pain kicks through her and her breath gusts out. But
Jenny knows what real pain feels like, remembers it. This is a pale imitation.
Rage boils inside her at the foul; hot and toxic. Like a super-power, the anger recharges her. Reaching
up and over, she punctures right past Monica’s defences, striking hard, then again and again. Her
opponent totters back under a rain of blows, hands raised in a useless attempt to guard, to hide from
the furied swarm of punches beating down on her. Backed against the ropes she has nowhere to go
and as Jenny pursues her….
…. the bell rings….
“Match to Jennifer Conners!”
Chad charges into the ring, holding up her arm in a victory salute. Whoops and cheers ring out from the
crowd and from her corner, Jenny sees the silver cup being passed up.
*****