Prize Money

“Lose. Lose, you big bitch.” Jackie Reardon whispered into a half-chewed Styrofoam cup of coffee. He couldn’t hear the sound of the back door being pried open over the announcers on the old black and white. 

“Ooohh! Is this it for the new rookie?!”

  Jackie watched as “the rookie” caught one a hook with his jaw. “Keep your guard up! What the hell are you doing?!” Jackie slapped the TV as he shouted. The rookie slipped a left jab, slipped the follow-up hook, and moved in past his opponent's guard. One uppercut, two body shots. One step forward.  “Hit him! Hit him!” The rookie dropped his right as he leaned to power his left. Jackie saw it coming a mile away. The rookie didn’t. “God damnit kid!” Jackie shouted as the rookie hit the mat. Jack slammed his coffee down, sending globs across the dirty floor. 

“Ah shit, ” he grumbled, as he reached over for a dirty towel embroidered with ‘Jackie’s Gym’.  He knelt to mop up the spilled coffee, and couldn’t see the large armed men passing the worn row of heavy bags to his back office. 

“Lose another bet Jack?” A gravelly voice rolled out of the darkness. Jackie froze.

“Well, I bet on your boy. Felt like a sure thing.” He grunted as he threw the towel in a dirty bin. He sat back down on his folding chair and looked up at his assailants. George Starling was a large man, but nothing compared to the two goons he had with him, one holding a sawed off shotgun, the other with a metal pipe gleaming in the overhead light. George pulled a cigarette out of his coat as he sat down on a chair facing Jackie. “No smoking in here George.”

“Mr. Starling,” one of his gorillas corrected.

George ignored him and smoked it all the same. “Nothing is a sure thing. You owe me thirty grand. Clearly you got money if you’re wasting it on boxing.”

“Look, Geor-. Mr Starling. I had a bit of scratch. I was just trying to get you an earlier payment!” 

“I’ll take an earlier payment.” George nodded as the goon with a pipe smashed Jackie’s TV. 

“Why don’t I train your fighter, eh?” Jackie stumbled over the sentence. “His guard could use some work.”

“We have our own trainers.”  George said as the man with the pipe towered over Jackie. He grabbed Jackie’s collar, and jerked him up out of the chair.

“Look, just give me a bit more time! I can get it! I can get it to you!”

“Say we just take your gym Jack.” 

Jackie’s stomach sank. “ George, it’s all I got left. George, please.” The large man tossed Jackie to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs. “Look I can’t pay you anything if you take away my job!” George leaned in, and blew a large puff of sickly smoke into Jackie’s face.

“Maybe there’s something else you can give me, huh?”

#

Jackie slept in the gym that night. In the morning he ran out for some breakfast, giving up a few precious dollars for an egg and cheese on a deli bagel with coffee. He ate it, wincing a bit at the swollen cheek he had been given last night. Still just as good as it’s always been. He threw the TV in the dumpster out back and swept up the bits of broken glass that littered the floor. 

“Whoa, what the hell happened Uncle Jack?” A young man with a duffel bag over his shoulder asked as he walked into the office. Jackie strained to look up at him and then went back to cleaning.

“Ah, just got a little heated at the fight last night.” 

“Yeah I figured you’d be watching. That bad huh?” 

“That kid isn’t ready for anything televised I’ll tell you that much.” Jackie eye’d up his nephew. A wiry kid with long reach and quick reflexes. Tough, like his uncle. He paused for a minute, as his nephew chuckled awkwardly.

“Should I help clean? Or…”

“No no, just go get warmed up Cammy. I’ll be out there in a minute.” 

Jackie paused for a minute, looking at the broken shards of TV screen in the trash can. He sighed heavily and walked out onto the gym floor. It wasn’t a big gym. The wooden floor was aged and weathered with various stains of sweat and blood. A dozen or so heavy bags, speed bags, some jump ropes, and a weathered old ring in the middle. Just enough to make a champion. Along the wall were newspaper snippets, box tickets, and retired gloves from careers long since lived. Jackie’s own pair hung up in the back office, shriveled and cracked from years of neglect. 

Cameron was already stretching behind the ring when Jackie walked up. “Alright, shadow boxing. 2 minutes. On the clock.” The next hour was speed drills and shadow boxing. By the end of it Cameron was heaving and sweating profusely. Jackie handed him a water bottle. “You’re looking good, kid.” Cameron took the bottle greedily and nodded with a large smile. He knew better than to accept a compliment from Jackie before the end of training. “Say, you still interested in getting back to real fights? Try to follow in your old uncle’s footsteps?”

“You’re kidding right? I’ve been asking you to set up a fight for months.” 

“Well maybe I got something for you then. But I don’t want you being pressured into doing anything stupid.” Jackie took the water bottle back, and started wrapping Cameron’s hands with cloth wraps. “Your mom won’t be too happy about it either, so consider that before saying yes.” 

“Uncle Jack. Yes. I want another fight. It’s been two years, let me loose already.” Cameron smiled, flexing his hands. Jack pulled on his gloves. “I’m serious. You’ve seen me putting in the hours.” 

“But this ain't no junior fight Cammy. You’re a man now, you’ll be fighting other men. Men who’ve been doing it a lot longer than you.” 

Cameron rolled his eyes.  “Yeah yeah, but look at me! Training for two years straight! Four hours minimum! How can I lose?”

Jackie walked him over to a cracked and misshapen heavy bag. “Everyone loses, kid. Just a matter of when.” Jackie adjusted a large digital timer on the wall with a tiny remote. “And get that grin off your face. Still got some hours to go.” A loud beep rang through the gym as Cameron started throwing punches and ducking around the heavy bag. A few other stragglers in the gym watched idly while resting between their sets. The kid is tough, Jackie had to admit. And fast. He had two months until the fight. He could toughen Cameron up some more till then. 

#

Two months flew by. Full of agility training and sparring. Lots of long days. Jackie waited in the cold out front of Cameron’s dingy apartment. With tomorrow being the fight, Jackie needed to make sure Cameron wasn’t doing anything stupid. He just had to survive the four rounds. Cameron hadn’t won any gloves or competitions as a kid, and he hadn’t been on a card for a fight in two years. No one would know him, but he looked impressive, and of course with Jackie’s name behind him as coach, people were sure to bet on him. He just hoped he hadn’t trained Cammy too well. 

Cameron came trotting outside and Jackie walked him down a few blocks to the deli to get them some breakfast. They didn’t do much but talk through some strategy for tomorrow and spend some quality time together walking around the park. 

The night came and went with a shot of whiskey and not much sleep. Jackie always had to drink a bit the night before. He could never get much sleep either, nerves always got the best of him. The shot was supposed to help. It never seemed to, but he gulped it down all the same. 

The next day, he picked up Cameron in a rusty old Buick and drove to the eastside for the fight. “You’re gonna do great, kid. Remember your combos? Run them through with me.” Jackie said as they drove. “Remember, there ain’t no shame in losing, but you gotta give it your all. Do that and it’ll be a good fight.” 

They pulled up to a decent sized boxing gym. Jackie checked them in and they went back to the locker room. He poked his head out to the main stage as Cameron was getting changed. People were starting to flood in. It wasn’t a huge venue, but it fit a few hundred people around the ring. He spotted George and his bodyguards on the far side doing some glad-handing and taking their seats ringside. He spotted a few bookies he had given more than a fair share of rent to over the years. A man patted him on the shoulder. 

“Old Jackie Reardon, here to watch the fights?”

“My nephew. Just getting him onto a card.” 

“You put your nephew into this fight? Lotta balls, Jack. Ha, that's old cold Jack back at it again, huh. Well hey, good luck to him.” Jack nodded, stone faced. He always hated that guy. Never knew when to keep his mouth shut.  He walked back into the locker room to check on Cameron. 

“Alright Cammy, feeling good? Ready for it?” Cameron nodded. Jack could hear the music blasting from his headphones. “Right. Good.” He started wrapping Cameron’s hands, and making sure his corner kit was filled. He could hear the announcer outside, introducing the first fighters on the card. The crowd’s muffled shouts echoed through the locker room. A girl came in  and gave them a five minute warning. Jackie nodded and put Cameron’s gloves on and then left him to his music. He’d need all the help he could get tonight. 

This was always the longest five minutes. Jackie always had to pace, would triple check his cornerman kit, would check the clock, would triple check his fighters gloves. Cameron jumped up and down, taking some quick, hard breaths. 

The announcer’s voice carried through the walls. Jack heard the opponent's name get called.  He nodded to Cameron. “...Cameron Reardon!” The voice echoed. Jack patted Cammy on the back and walked him down the hallway and out towards the ring. The crowd wasn’t big, but it sure was loud enough. He lifted the ropes and looked over to the other corner. He briefly locked eyes with George who stared back at him while Cameron was inspected by a ref. The pair climbed into the ring.

Jack knelt down in front of Cameron and nodded to him, taking his earbuds and jacket. Cameron didn’t have any of the bravado the opposing fighter did. There was no walking around the ring, no showboating. Just a good honest kid, here to fight. 

Cameron took a good look at his opponent for the first time. “Wait, isn't that the guy we just saw on TV? The rookie? That’s who I’m fighting?” 

“Look, don't worry about that kid. He lost the last one, he’ll lose this one too. Just wear him out. Let your endurance do the work. Keep moving.”  Cameron nodded, visibly shaken. “Head in the fight.” Jack said and stepped through the ropes. The referee motioned for the fighters to move to the center of the ring. Jack couldn’t hear the ref's usual spiel over the crowd. 

He just hoped Cammy would survive a few rounds. If he made it to the fourth round, then they were home clear. The bell dinged, the fighters tapped gloves, and the rookie charged out of his corner like a bull, hurling punches against Cameron’s guard. 

“Keep your guard up! Step back! Guard up!” Jack shouted. More punches rained down, but Cameron was weathering them. He was on the back foot, but didn’t catch anything too nasty. The wood clapped, 10 seconds left. A few more blows were exchanged, Cameron got off a small body combo before the bell rang. He came back to the corner and sat down, heaving. 

“Alright breathe kid, breathe. You’re doing good.” Jack rubbed a bit of vaseline on his cheeks. “Lets throw some punches this round huh. Keep moving. He’ll come at you hard and fast again. He’ll start with his left.” The ref called out and Jackie ducked under the ropes to take his spot at the corner post.  

Cameron jumped up and smashed his gloves together. “Keep your guard up!” Jackie shouted. Yet again the rookie came out swinging, with a quick left jab. Cammy slipped it and got in a few body shots. The rookie quickly recovered and kept Cameron dancing back most of the round. Cameron dropped his guard and took a few rough shots to the chin, but he paid them back. “Keep your hands up! Keep moving!” Jackie shouted. Cameron kept dropping his guard, as the fight turned into a slug fest. Cameron took a shot on the chin and stumbled to the ground. “Get up! Get up!” God damnit, kid. You need to go down in the fourth, but he figured it would still make George happy enough. Cameron staggered up to his feet and shook it off. The bell rang and the fighters went back to their corners.

His cheek had a nasty cut that Jackie put the presser to. He wiped away the sweat and  rubbed some vaseline over it. “Keep your goddamn hands up. You don’t want to take too many more of those. He’s starting to tire out, just keep sticking him with jabs and we’ll go for points.”

 The bell rang again, and the fighters danced out to the middle of the ring. The rookie was looking tired, sure, but didn’t have much damage on him. Cameron on the other hand was tired, sluggish, had a swollen eye and a few cuts. He did however keep his guard up and not get lured into another haymaker contest. Quick jabs, and body shots flew from both sides. “Watch the right! Cameron, watch the right!” 

Cameron slipped under a hook and threw one back at the rookie, who didn’t see it coming. He fell to the mat, and as he did Jackie met eyes with a brooding George Starling. George whispered something to one of his bodyguards who then locked eyes with Jackie as well. Jackie started to sweat. Shouldn’t have trained Cameron so hard, or maybe should have worked him harder yesterday to keep him tired. “Get up you idiot. Get up.” Jackie whispered. The rookie propped himself up and stood to his feet. The wood clapped for the 10 second mark, and it looked like Cameron was moving in for the knockout. “Back up! Back up! Save your energy!” Jackie shouted so loud he could feel his voice wanting to give up.

The bell rang and both fighters were still standing, but the rookie looked wobbly. He wouldn’t last the next round. If the rookie fell, Jackie was finished. “Cameron, you gotta ease up.” Jackie started pressing on his cuts. Cameron shook his head. “Look, you can’t knock him out.” Jackie’s stomach dropped as he said it. Cameron twisted his face in confusion. “You need to go down this round. You need to take a hit and stay down.” Cameron looked at him through his swollen eye, processing what Jackie said. “Cameron, you need to take a dive. Nod if you understand. If you don’t you’ll never see me again, the gym will close. Cameron. Nod if you understand.”

Cammy got it. He started to protest but the ref called them to the center. Jackie climbed out the ring, “Cameron. Do it.” 

Cameron kept looking at him, not paying much attention to the ref or the rookie. He shook his head. Jackie saw all the respect Cammy had for him drain away. Cameron turned to face his opponent. 

“God damnit Cameron. You listen to me!”

The bell rang, the fighters moved forward. Both looked exhausted, both looked hurt. Cameron had the momentum though, and the rookie still looked shaky on his feet. His guard was low. “Don’t you do it” Jack whispered. George Starling’s bodyguard was already conveniently standing at the entrance of their locker room Jackie noticed.

 “Save your energy!” Jackie shouted. Couldn't exactly shout, ‘go down’ without raising some suspicion. Jackie was red in the face the whole round. With thirty seconds left, Cameron let his guard drop, and snuck a seething glance at Jackie. The rookie gave Cameron an uppercut, followed with two shots to the jaw. Cameron hit the mat hard. Jackie held his breath. The ref came over and gave the count. Cammy was out cold. The crowd erupted into cheers as the rookie danced around the stage and hugged his coach.

Jackie rushed into the ring, grabbing some smelling salts and propping Cameron’s head up. He didn’t respond. His face was bloody and misshapen. Medics rushed into the ring and pushed Jackie out of the way. George walked over and patted Jackie on the hand.

“Looks like you get to keep your gym Jackie boy. I’ll catch you round the bookies, huh.” George said with a smile. His two gorillas chuckled as they walked past and over to the corner of the rookie to congratulate him. 

Jack looked down at his nephew, still unconscious as the medics tried to wake him up. 

#

Jackie plugged in a new flatscreen TV, a gift from George, and backed up to look at the picture. It was considerably bigger than his last TV. “What do you think Cammy? Look good?” Cameron drooled a bit and gave a boisterous laugh. Jackie came over and wiped his mouth. He picked up a plate of mashed potatoes sitting nearby. “Yeah, looks good.” Jackie said as he fed Cameron the mashed potatoes who chewed on it greedily, watching the TV from his wheelchair.