His Liberation

He was always so serious before the fight. He would joke around and talk shit and push us around until just before it started and then he would just go deadpan. None of us knew where he went. He shuffled between his left and right foot, his eyes burning through the cracked cement, dilapidated pavement, or if we were lucky a semi-finished basement floor. Back and forth, left to right he’d move. Every cycle punctuated by the jingle of the dog tags around his neck. The first few fights me or Andrew or Mike tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t even acknowledge us. Just back and forth, left and right like he was on another planet.

The “ref” gives me a nod and I say, “Here we go CJ.” He takes off the tags, kisses them and hands them to me. As the chain slips into my palm we make eye contact and he gives me that smile. I know what that smile means. I smile back but the second he turns to walk to the center of the circle I shake my head.

It’s gonna get bloody.

That smile means he’s been waiting for this all day. It’s not for the money, or the respect, or the drugs. Today it’s for himself. Those are the days I worry about having to take him to the hospital, or having to watch him get taken away in a cruiser. Those are the days he got in a fight with Lynn, or the days he was sick of having to be himself. I still don’t understand what he sees in that girl. He loves her unconditionally, and she’ll never return it so it just leads him to getting hurt. I’ve told him just to give up, to stop it so many times but he just says he can’t. He’s fucking nuts. I’ve never met someone who was the same combination of arrogance and self-loathing. He is confident to the extreme in everything he does. Like he always says, “I don’t lose.” Then at the same time every once in a while when he gets a little too drunk he starts going off about his own immense failure, which, it seems to me, only he can see. I wish I understood it better but the nature of things is that he only talks about it after a few too many and I’m never sober at that point either.

I look at the ground, shit, this parking lot hasn’t been paved in a while. I know he noticed it too, which means he won’t be wrestling today. It’s gonna be a slugfest. I look at the way he’s flexing his back and I think we’ll have to step in. If we don’t then he’s just going to break his hands and end up having to fight more than just his opponent. I make eye contact with Andrew and give him a nod. He nods back and I see him reach under his sweatshirt and cock the chrome .45 he has tucked into the back of his waistband. We made fun of him the first time he showed it to us. One of daddy the lawyer’s guns, the kind that costs more than the average car. We still give him shit for it every once in a while, but god knows that, while its never been fired, just its presence has stopped more than one fight from getting out of hand.

I hear CJ and his opponent give a quick slap of a handshake and turn to watch the fight unfold. The other kid looked older than CJ, he had a bit of a scruffy goatee. He was a big boy; probably an inch or two over six foot and well muscled. I don’t like saying it like it means something but for the sake of accuracy he was black. But as I watched the way he set his feet to close and bring his hands up all wrong I knew he wasn’t much of a fighter. He was the kind of fighter who had watched too much boxing and gotten the idea in his head that he could do the same thing. They were always too rigid, not fluid enough. They were to focused on trying to emulate what they had seen on TV and could never adapt or change. They didn’t realize there’s a big difference between two professional boxers and a fight for a few hundred bucks in a parking lot behind some industrial building. As they circled I watched CJ’s eyes as he sized up the other kid, he saw the same things I had and I saw the smile flash across his face again. I shivered.

That smile was all knowing. It was like he knew something you didn’t. No it was more than that. It was like he understood – no that’s not right. Hope he never looks at you with that smile. As he looked at the guy across from him its like he saw this kid’s essence. It was like he was dissecting him with his eyes, like he was seeing everything that made him tick and thinking about the best way to stop the ticking. Like he was going to reach into the guys chest, pull his heart out and smile as he watched it beat in his palm. This kid didn’t know what he was in for. CJ is a deceptive fighter. He isn’t much to look at, maybe 5’10 on a good day and not over 140. He just looked like a skinny white kid, it didn’t help we all came from a private school. He loved this though, it always made people underestimate him. He loved nothing more than punishing people for underestimating him.

They kept circling for what was maybe 20 seconds when CJ stopped and dropped his hands. Confused the other guy, whose name seemed to be Darren based on what I was hearing yelled from the circle, stopped cautiously but didn’t lower his hands. “Is this you’re first dance sweetheart?” CJ said. I smiled; he loved fucking with people. I was happy cause if he could get a little anger out verbally he was less likely to pound Darren to hard.

“Wha… what?” Stuttered Daren.

“It’s like you’re a middle schooler on his first date. You know just what you want but you don’t know when or how to get it.”

Andrew, Mike and E laughed while Dan snickered and I smiled.

“I don’t get it…? Are we fighting or what?!” The last piece rushed out of Darren’s mouth with too much force behind it. Everyone knows the louder you are the less you want to fight. CJ noticed it to and knew he was already winning the fight.

“Stop acting like you’re 14. You bought me dinner, now we are in the theater 15 minutes into some PG-13 comedy, go ahead and try to cop a feel.”

As he said it CJ stepped forward to well within arms reach of Darren with his hands still down by his sides. This was one of his favorite strategies; we all knew what was coming.

“If he wants it so bad just give it to him!” Shouted a voice from Darren’s side to a chorus of “Yeah,” “Fuck’m up” and “Make him regret it.”

“Now don’t be bashful.” Said CJ with that smile. He twitched his right arm just enough to catch Darren’s attention and as Darren twisted to deflect the punch that never came CJ snuck his left hand in and slapped Darren on his right cheek. It wasn’t much of a slap. It didn’t do any damage, but it would sting, and it caught him by surprise and made him look stupid in front of his boys. If Darren had thought he would have realized how out matched he was. It was to late for thinking though. The stinging on his face and the embarrassment that welled up, and furrowed his brows had pushed him over the edge.

CJ just raised an eyebrow and gave an expectant nod without moving out of Darren’s arm’s reach. That was it, Darren’s face screwed up with anger and he swung his right hand in a hard hook at CJ’s temple. I’ll give the kid credit it was a better punch than I expected out of him, very controlled for someone so upset, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough, Andrew and Mike smiled, I sucked in a breath, E cheered and Dan took a drag on his cigarette and looked down; we all knew what would happen. CJ went from an unassuming and scrawny to being cut like a professional athlete as he tensed every muscle in his body. His shoulders, back and forearms stood out like ropes being pulled taught, he suddenly had washboard abs as what looked like skin and bone turned to the well earned wiry muscle of a fighter. He ducked the punch faster than you can blink, popped up and threw a right jab from his feet through his hips up his arm out his hand an into Darren’s nose.

We all heard the crunch and Darren’s eyes, to use the cliché, went as big as dinner plates as he stumbled back a step and a half.

“I aint that kind of girl babe.” Said CJ, eyes locked on the dazed Darren, that smile welded on his face.

Darren impressed me by staying on his feet. He stopped his back tracking and wiped at the blood pouring out of his nose, although it did absolutely nothing to stop the gushing flow. He had more than I thought; I had seen that punch end more than a few fights. “And I don’t give up that easily bitch,” he snarled.

“Oh I like this one!” Laughed CJ glancing over to us then back to Darren. “I needed you today.”

Darren took a step in and CJ brought his hands up as he said, “Now we can begin.”

CJ faked a jab with his right and brought his left in a sweeping hook into Darren’s gut. Darren was fit though and took the punch with a barley audible grunt, even throwing a retaliatory left cross that CJ leaned away from. Darren was quick to get his guard back up though he didn’t want to take another punch straight to the face like he did before. They circled and CJ kept pounding Darren’s body, not bothering to try and fight through his face guard.

After a few minutes CJ backed away to catch his breath and allow Darren some time to recover; he didn’t want the fight to end too quickly. He never talked about why he fought, but I was pretty sure I knew. When we drank or smoked he was open about using it as an escape. I don’t know for sure what he was escaping from, but I guess it was about his feelings for Lynn or his own self-loathing. Mike and E thought he fought just cause he was good at it, Andrew thought it was the same as the drugs, just an escape, Dan didn’t care as long as he kept winning and kept buying. I knew it was different though; the drugs weren’t enough for him. Weed would get him out of his own head for a few hours and a night of drinking would give him some good stories to think about but these weren’t enough. We all knew he had been buying speed, concerta mostly, but recently ecstasy. There were rumors he had been trying coke, he denied it whenever Dan asked him what it was like or I told him he shouldn’t, but I didn’t believe him. Drugs were his escape but fighting was his release. He wasn’t running away when he fought, fighting was the time he could let it all out. He was always happiest after he fought. A fight for him was cleansing. It was like being baptized, it washed away all of his previous sins. It washed away the depression and hatred and left him relaxed and renewed.

CJ began his back and forth again, but this wasn’t the intense focus of the pre-fight trance, this was light, it was fun. He bounced back and forth like an excited child, he had a disturbingly genuine smile on his face and he even let out a giggle as he watched Darren touch his sides and wince. “You ready for round two cutie?” He said as he moved back in on Darren still bouncing with a smile on his face. Darren grimaced, he knew he wasn’t hurt enough to back out yet. Not that he would if he could, CJ was just to patronizing to back down from, it would have been to embarrassing to quit. They brought their hands up and the fight began again.

Darren came out swinging; you never know what someone will do when cornered, but CJ wasn’t one to be intimidated. CJ was having fun, he never would have let Darren land any punches if he wasn’t. When the next break came I saw CJ was bleeding above his left eye and there was a bruise forming on his right cheek. If he had allowed himself to take that much damage he must really be having a good time. His smile was bigger than ever, “You are more fun than I thought!” He said as he wagged a finger at Darren. Darren wasn’t enjoying himself quite as much as CJ though. His breathing was rough and his chest was heaving, CJ had kept hammering his body, but had taken some time to sneak a few choice punches through Darren’s guard. I felt bad for Darren, his face was bad, his left eye was swelling shut, blood was running from a cut on his cheek, his top lip was split and I imagine he had a loose tooth or two, and his nose was still very broken. Someone handed Darren a water bottle and the “ref” turned to CJ and said, “You ok with giving him a quick break?”

“Sure.” He replied as he turned his back on the circle and walked over to us. We greeted him with slaps on the back, high fives and comments about how well he had been fighting. “You got him bro,” said E as he handed him a Gatorade but he pushed it away. Instead he grabbed Mike’s beer and finished it off. He picked up his coat off the ground and started fishing for a cigarette. “Take one of mine.” said Andrew as he quickly took out his pack. “Fuck that,” Said CJ with a laugh, “you have terrible taste. Reds? Shit’s just gross.”

“That’s right I forgot you’re a stupid cigarette hipster,” mocked Andrew and we all laughed including CJ.

“Its not my fault I actually have taste buds and prefer Spirits and Royals to smoking that tar you like.” He replied while lighting a Camel.

“I’m with Andrew on this one.” Said Dan

“ Of course you are,” I retorted, “you’ve destroyed all your taste buds detoxing with shots of vinegar.” We all laughed again and E and CJ high fived me.

“I’m good.” Said CJ standing up straighter. “What do you boys say I end this so we can get the party going?” Asked CJ with a jerk of his head towards Darren being supported by two of his friends.

“Make it good man.” Said Mike as CJ motioned to the “ref” who said,

“D-man you back in this?”

Darren had a quick whispered conversation with the two guys closest to him, deciding if he could quit yet or not. If they were any sort of intelligent he had given up winning and was going for damage control at this point. Based on the angry looks on his friends faces and the way Darren set his jaw he wanted to keep going but his friends didn’t want him to. One of his friends turned to the “ref” to say something but Darren grabbed his shoulder and pushed him aside saying, “I’m not done yet.”

“Alright then boys, lets get it on!” Said the “ref” with a clap of his hands. CJ handed me his half finished cigarette, spat on the ground and turned back to the circle. Darren and CJ moved in to each other cautiously. Darren cause he was hurting and trying to minimize damage, CJ cause he was looking for the big punch that would end the fight. They kept moving trading a few quick loose punches that didn’t really connect. Then to everyone’s surprise Darren took a quick one-two step forward and shot a right jab at CJ. The quickness of the move surprised us all; his guys included who let out a few cheers. Not to my surprise though CJ dodged the punch. He ducked and wove to his right under the punch, popping up a half step away from a completely exposed and over extended Darren. Everyone knew the fight was over but no one expected how CJ did it. He threw a right hook that caught Darren hard in the jaw. CJ knew what he was doing, he could have ended the fight with that punch, but he was feeling flashy and he wasn’t quite done. He didn’t put his full weight into the punch, allowing it to slide off of Darren and letting the momentum carry his arm past Darren’s head. Then he took a step in, turned his shoulders, bent his arm and snapped his right elbow back, straight in between Darren’s eyes.

He didn’t even look back, he just turned and walked over to us as Darren went cross-eyed and collapsed on the ground. CJ always had a flair for the dramatic. He smiled at us as he took the wad of cash from the “ref.” Not the smile that makes you feel like a scared rabbit but doesn’t let you flee, a genuine carefree smile. An innocent smile. A smile of a man who was untouchably happy and free. “We are gonna party tonight boys!” He said as we turned to walk back to our cars.

“You aren’t getting in my car with your hands like that.” Said Andrew prompting the rest of us to look down to where CJ’s hands were unscrewing the bourbon bottle E had just handed him.

“Well shit” said CJ when he noticed he was missing the skin on three of the knuckles of his right hand and had a cut in between his pointer and middle finger on his left hand. “Someone tell me how that looks.” He said has he tried twisting his arm in various was to examine his bloody elbow.

“Hold still stupid.” I said as I grabbed his arm and turned it so I could look at the blood on his elbow. “It all seems to be his. I can’t see a cut or anything.”

“Sweet.” And with that he poured bourbon on his hands and let out a string of swears I don’t care to repeat as he shook his hands dry.

“That better mom?” he asked Andrew

“Yes, thank you.”

“Where we going now?” Asked Mike

“Who cares man? We’ve got money, we’ve got booze,” CJ said as he took a drink form the bottle he had used to clean his hands, “Dan you got the bud?”

In response Dan pulled out a plastic bag and tossed it to CJ who flipped him a bill out of his winnings and promptly tossed the bag to me. “I know you’ve got a cigarillo, lets roll that L, bump that cliché anthem that is “Young Wild and Free,” and have a night to remember!”

We all cheered and exchanged high fives and fist bumps while starting to walk back to the cars. CJ paused to light a cigarette and I lagged behind with him. I picked up his shirt and coat for him, putting his tags back around his neck and his flat brim back on his head while he swore at the lighter that wasn’t working. He got a light took a drag on his cigarette and we made eye contact. “Good fight man.”

“Thanks dude.” He said with a smile that showed such happiness I wish I could feel half of what he felt at that moment.

He put his arm around my shoulder and we walked back to the car swaying to the beat of Mike’s terrible beatbox that Andrew was doing a terrible freestyle to. This wasn’t a night of escape. This was a night of celebration, of living life, of spending time with your boys and doing stupid shit while you still can. There was nothing to escape from. Yeah we would be back in another parking lot or the tracks at Slater Park in the future, but that didn’t matter right now. While it may only be for a night, he was free.

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