to notice the crowd at all—she’s psyching herself up.
Her dad follows her into the ring. Ash shrugs her shoulders and rolls her head, shaking out her arms to loosen up. Nick rubs the back of her neck, talking in her ear.
Ash has on a knee-length crimson boxing robe. On the back there’s this Indian design with a pissed-off-looking bird of prey. Ash looks wild and dangerous. I can’t take my eyes off her. If I touched her right now, it would be like kissing lightning.
The other girl climbs into the ring.
“Somebody beat that girl with the ugly stick,” Pike says.
Harsh, but true. The pale redhead’s nose is a lump, squashed down where it’s been broken before. And her eyes are too close together.
Nick takes off Ash’s robe and puts it over his shoulder. She’s all in red, trunks and top, with crimson-tasseled boxing shoes.
The announcer moves to the center of the ring.
“Our next match is a four-round girls’ lightweight. In the black trunks, from Muskoka, with a record of six wins, two losses—Jennifer Mankowski.”
There are scattered cheers for her, and boos from the three of us.
“And in the red trunks, from Harvest Cove, with a record of five wins, no losses—Ashley Animkee.”
A roar from the crowd, with a bunch of people from the base who showed up to cheer Ash and the other army brats boxing tonight.
The trainers leave the ring. Ash’s dad comes over to us and tosses her robe into my lap. “Hold that. And let’s hear you make some noise, boys.”
He takes his station by Ash’s corner, setting his black leather bag down on a stool. His bag of tricks, with towels and water bottles as well as mystery creams and stuff.
Ash’s mom stays away from the fights. She can’t take seeing her girl get smacked around.
I look down at the bird of prey’s eyes on the robe in my lap. Still feels warm from her.
Ash goes to center ring. The fighters do their stare down as the ref tells them the rules. Then they touch gloves and go to their corners to wait for the bell.
Ash’s dad calls up to her. It’s hard to make out what he’s saying, but it doesn’t sound English. He repeats it before the bell dings and she goes out to do battle.
The first round, the redhead holds Ash at a distance with her longer reach, jabbing and keeping away from the inside power punches Ash wants to throw.
When the bell ends the round, Ash comes scowling to sit on the stool Nick sets down. He squirts water into her mouth. She rinses and spits into a bucket. He’s talking to her the whole time as she glares at the other girl.
Then she gets up for the second round, and he steps back through the ropes. Before the bell, he calls to her:
“Nataga wab moodoo.”
Something like that.
Pike gives me a nudge. “They’re talking Injun.” He’s way too loud. Always too loud.
Nick turns and gives him a killer stare. Pike looks down at his hot dog till the bell sounds.
The second round starts like the first, with Ash held off by the long arms of her opponent. But then Ash catches her on the side of the head.
I’ve felt that hook. It’s a stunner. The other girl staggers and backs off. The redhead sticks to long-range jabs, trying to keep clear of Ash’s inside power. Ash absorbs the jabs without effect, like they’re mosquitoes.
Then she bursts in, catching the redhead with a combination that knocks her head from side to side. She tries to retreat but Ash stays on her, up close.
She grabs on to Ash, one arm holding her in tight while the other works body shots to Ash’s ribs.
“Break it up.” The ref moves in.
They step away. Ash has her fuse lit now. She says you have to take a few hits and taste some of your own blood before you really get juiced.
She comes up under the redhead’s guard to catch her chin with an uppercut. When the other girl falls back on the ropes, Ash stays with her, knocking her head around, keeping her off-balance.
The other girl grabs on to her, trying to pin Ash’s arms against her
Her dad follows her into the ring. Ash shrugs her shoulders and rolls her head, shaking out her arms to loosen up. Nick rubs the back of her neck, talking in her ear.
Ash has on a knee-length crimson boxing robe. On the back there’s this Indian design with a pissed-off-looking bird of prey. Ash looks wild and dangerous. I can’t take my eyes off her. If I touched her right now, it would be like kissing lightning.
The other girl climbs into the ring.
“Somebody beat that girl with the ugly stick,” Pike says.
Harsh, but true. The pale redhead’s nose is a lump, squashed down where it’s been broken before. And her eyes are too close together.
Nick takes off Ash’s robe and puts it over his shoulder. She’s all in red, trunks and top, with crimson-tasseled boxing shoes.
The announcer moves to the center of the ring.
“Our next match is a four-round girls’ lightweight. In the black trunks, from Muskoka, with a record of six wins, two losses—Jennifer Mankowski.”
There are scattered cheers for her, and boos from the three of us.
“And in the red trunks, from Harvest Cove, with a record of five wins, no losses—Ashley Animkee.”
A roar from the crowd, with a bunch of people from the base who showed up to cheer Ash and the other army brats boxing tonight.
The trainers leave the ring. Ash’s dad comes over to us and tosses her robe into my lap. “Hold that. And let’s hear you make some noise, boys.”
He takes his station by Ash’s corner, setting his black leather bag down on a stool. His bag of tricks, with towels and water bottles as well as mystery creams and stuff.
Ash’s mom stays away from the fights. She can’t take seeing her girl get smacked around.
I look down at the bird of prey’s eyes on the robe in my lap. Still feels warm from her.
Ash goes to center ring. The fighters do their stare down as the ref tells them the rules. Then they touch gloves and go to their corners to wait for the bell.
Ash’s dad calls up to her. It’s hard to make out what he’s saying, but it doesn’t sound English. He repeats it before the bell dings and she goes out to do battle.
The first round, the redhead holds Ash at a distance with her longer reach, jabbing and keeping away from the inside power punches Ash wants to throw.
When the bell ends the round, Ash comes scowling to sit on the stool Nick sets down. He squirts water into her mouth. She rinses and spits into a bucket. He’s talking to her the whole time as she glares at the other girl.
Then she gets up for the second round, and he steps back through the ropes. Before the bell, he calls to her:
“Nataga wab moodoo.”
Something like that.
Pike gives me a nudge. “They’re talking Injun.” He’s way too loud. Always too loud.
Nick turns and gives him a killer stare. Pike looks down at his hot dog till the bell sounds.
The second round starts like the first, with Ash held off by the long arms of her opponent. But then Ash catches her on the side of the head.
I’ve felt that hook. It’s a stunner. The other girl staggers and backs off. The redhead sticks to long-range jabs, trying to keep clear of Ash’s inside power. Ash absorbs the jabs without effect, like they’re mosquitoes.
Then she bursts in, catching the redhead with a combination that knocks her head from side to side. She tries to retreat but Ash stays on her, up close.
She grabs on to Ash, one arm holding her in tight while the other works body shots to Ash’s ribs.
“Break it up.” The ref moves in.
They step away. Ash has her fuse lit now. She says you have to take a few hits and taste some of your own blood before you really get juiced.
She comes up under the redhead’s guard to catch her chin with an uppercut. When the other girl falls back on the ropes, Ash stays with her, knocking her head around, keeping her off-balance.
The other girl grabs on to her, trying to pin Ash’s arms against her
Similar Books
