Sucker Punch (TKO 4)

The biscuit falls from my hand and Lance jumps to his feet, startled. Howard, who had walked back into his office, walks out and leans against the door frame.

“I’m right here, Garrett. You want to come inside my office and talk like men?”

“No, I just want to know what the hell is going on between you and Whitney.” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares straight ahead.

“She was at your house, you should know,” Howard simply tells him.

“Well, because of the fucked-up girl code, I don’t know anything. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be in here threatening to kick your ass or just act like nothing happened.”

I stare at the two of them, wondering if they will throw down in the middle of the gym. Garrett has a vein popping from his neck, so he may do it, but I glance over at Howard and he’s fucking mellow as hell. He’s not even flinching.

“Well, I’ll give you the rundown. Whitney’s hormones are fucking insane. She wants me to up and buy a house and all these things we can’t afford right now. We’ve finally gotten to a good place in our lives and she can’t understand that. It just escalated and she said she was leaving. It was just a fucking argument.”

“That’s all? Damn, she made it seem like the whole damn world was ending.” Garrett laughs as he eases up.

“I swear. You know I wouldn’t lie to you and I damn well would never hurt her. She’s got to think that we’ve got another baby on the way. We have plenty of room in the apartment for the new baby. Plus, I’ve got this gym to worry about too, and I think she forgets that. This place isn’t cheap to run.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, man,” Garrett tells him.

“I would have questioned it too if the roles were reversed so I don’t blame you. You calm now?”

“Yeah. Where’s my breakfast?”

“You snooze you lose!” Lance grins before taking a big bite of his biscuit.

Now that the tension has vanished, I can relax and eat the rest of my breakfast. Howard steps into the office and walks out toward Garrett with another biscuit. “See, I thought about you.”

We all toss our trash into the bag and I watch as Garrett and Lance go over to the weight bench. I should go join them but instead, I walk towards the locker where I keep my gloves and grab one of them. I stare at the lone glove that sits inside the metal locker and sigh.

I walk over to the punching bag and size it up. I haven’t approached it without my prosthetic yet. There’s a first time for everything, not that the prosthetic gave me much more of an edge. I hate the way that arm makes me feel. While I’m able to accept what has happened, it still makes me feel like less of a person. I never thought about what it would mean to live without an arm. I suppose I took it for granted.

I know my parents’ insurance covered a huge chunk of the prosthesis but I’m not me with it on. I can’t even seem to make myself adjust to it. Therefore I just made up my mind. I want no part in it anymore. Mom will be pissed, I’m sure, but it’s time she realizes this is my life, and in the long run, I feel I’ll be happier with just one arm. I’ll pay her back for the prosthetic if I have to. I’d rather donate it to someone who could really benefit from it.

“Are you daydreaming?”

> I look up to see Howard standing beside me. I remember what Lance said earlier and straighten myself up like I’m getting ready to begin wailing away on the punching bag.

“No, I was just sizing this bag up.”

“It’s the same bag it’s always been. You know, I notice you don’t have your prosthetic on today. Everything okay?”

So much for no one saying anything. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

He eyeballs me, giving that tell-tale sign he doesn’t believe me.

“I swear.” I throw up my hand in surrender. “I made the decision I don’t want to wear it anymore. It’s not me and it will never be me. I’d rather walk around with one arm. I’m not ashamed of myself.”

“No one ever said you had to be ashamed of yourself. In fact, I think it takes great courage to make the decision you’ve made. You’re overcoming and I’m glad to be a part of this with you. Want me to hold the bag for you?”

“Howard?” I ask.

“Yeah?” He walks and stands behind the punching bag, gripping it tightly.

“Do you think I’ll ever fight again?” A lump forms in my throat. I only had one fight, but damn if that wasn’t the best moment of my life. I wanted more but I guess that wasn’t in my cards.

“Maybe. It’d take a lot of work, but I see no reason why you should be discriminated against.”

“You mean it?”