Jab! ”
“I’m jabbing, Heavy!” I shouted through my panting then quit jabbing and started roundhouse punching the sides of the bag then I quit doing that too, hugged the bag and stared at Heavy. “How long do I have to do this?” I asked.
“You only been at it an hour,” Heavy said and then shoved an entire Ding Dong in his mouth.
I glared at him. “Don’t you think an hour is enough?” I asked. “I’m not exactly going to be boxing with drug dealers for a whole fifteen rounds.”
“Don’t do fifteen rounds anymore, the sissies, only do twelve,” Heavy informed me.
“Wel , I won’t be going twelve rounds with them either.”
“You gotta be in shape. ‘Special y now that you’re goin’
up against the Nightingale Boys. Fuck, girl, you… are…
loco.”
I used my teeth to yank at the strings of my boxing gloves then shoved one under the pit of an arm and tugged it off.
“I’m not up against the Nightingale Boys,” I said.
Heavy shook his head. “Got a friend, he’s a cop, says Hank Nightingale and Eddie Chavez pul ed up al sorts of shit on you yesterday. Searchin’ your name and findin’ it al over your kids’ records.”
So that was how Vance knew everything.
I found this annoying. The whole bedroom interrogation that morning was bul shit. Vance knew the answers to most of his questions before he’d even asked them. This meant his “making me talk” was just an excuse to kiss me.
I didn’t know what to do with that so I didn’t do anything with it. I’d have time to think about it maybe when I was eighty.
Heavy was watching me closely as I tugged off the other glove.
“Unh-hunh,” he read my face correctly and went on.
“Unh-hunh,” he read my face correctly and went on.
“Nightingale and Chavez searched you and Lee’s got a big nerd workin’ for him who could hack into the computers at the Pentagon. By now, they know everything about you, even your panty size.”
This gave me pause for reflection. I didn’t like the idea of Vance knowing everything about me. Though I didn’t care about my panty size unless he felt like buying me a present for my birthday which was only a few days away.
What was I thinking?
Vance was not going to be in my life, thus no birthday present. And certainly not panties.
I looked at Heavy. “My birthday is Thursday,” I told him.
“Wel , happy fuckin’ birthday,” Heavy grinned, white cream and chocolate cake in his teeth.
I dropped my gloves to the floor, sat next to him on the boxes and pul ed back some tendrils of hair that had come loose from my ponytail.
“Not today, Thursday,” I took a deep breath and then went for it. “You want to go out for a drink or something?” Heavy stared at me. “Don’t you have girlfriends?” he asked.
I pul ed in my lips and hit him in the shoulder. “Forget it,” I said and smiled. “I gotta stretch.”
I got up and walked over to a mat that Heavy had put out for when he showed me moves to defend myself against attack. I dropped down on it and started to stretch.
“You goin’ to the range after this?” Heavy asked, stil staring at me.
“Yeah.”
“You goin’ out after that?” he went on and I knew what he meant, was I going out after bad guys.
I’d been giving it some thought especial y after what Roam had done. I wasn’t exactly being the best role model.
Stil , I was an adult. I was being smart and I was getting trained. I wasn’t a kid pelting a drug dealer with rocks (I had to admit, though I’d never tel Roam, that was a good one).
I looked at Heavy. “I’m going home for food and then, yeah, I’m going out.”
“Be safe,” he said, got up and went into the house.
I stretched and when I was finished I pul ed on my black, zip-up sweatshirt and grabbed my bag. I walked into the house and I could see the back of Heavy’s blond head. He was sitting in front of Monday Night Footbal .
“I’m outta here Heavy,” I cal ed.
“Cool,” Heavy cal ed back.
I walked to the front door and I heard Heavy say my name, so I turned. “What?” I asked, peering around a column to look into the living room.
He’d twisted around the side of his reclining chair to look at me. “I’l go out for your birthday but not to one of those girlie bars with martinis or any of that shit. American beer.
Televisions. Women wearing tight tshirts. You doin’ that for your birthday?”
I smiled at him. “I could do that.”
“Great. I’l be there.”
Then he twisted around again and stared at the footbal .
*