Weeks later after Sam's visit, Anna and Kingston sit with Sam in a secluded area of a relatively-unknown walking trail in the city. Like protective soldiers, a row of poplar trees tower over their backs. The three are sitting on the grass centre-stage, a small field of red poppies to their left and a short weather-beaten wall with colourful graffiti sprayed all over its face to their right. The wall sits on an angle, opening itself up to the trio and audience.
KINGSTON: Your boxing is getting much better! Especially the way you follow your jab with a hook! And thank you for helping me sharpen my skills.
SAM (bluntly): My technique is still sloppy. I need to keep up my hands more often. I let them fall to my sides, and when my opponent gets aggressive with me, I fold my posture and cower. I'll never win a fight if I keep on doing that. This is why you've been challenged and not me. If you feel that I am slacking when we train together, please tell me, so I can pick the pace.
KINGSTON: Ach, You've only been back for about a month. You're really starting to pick up. Remember when you needed a water break every three rounds during the first session? And now I worry that you don't drink enough! The amount of progress you're making is entertaining and well deserved. No need to be ashamed.
SAM: Let's stop talking 'bout me! We need to focus on you.
KINGSTON: Will you stop? You're emitting low self-esteem like an aging light bulb. Maybe that's the real issue at hand. I can't have you acting like this. We've all put in so much effort into bettering ourselves that we can't start a trend of self-repulsion now. Why are you saying these things? Wait -- is it because of what happened this morning?
ANNA: What happened this morning?
SAM: It's nothing serious, I --
KINGSTON: He got fired from his work.
ANNA (jaw dropping): No! From the record store?
SAM: Can we move onto other things?
ANNA: That's hard to hear, I'm so sorry that --
SAM: It's completely alright, I have no intentions of looking back, now I can spend more time pursuing my career in music.
KINGSTON: That's the spirit! They lost a friendly person who knew how to work hard, there's no real reason for them to have done you like that. I wouldn't think about it much.
SAM: Now I have a question.
Sam leers in disgust.
Is it characteristic of friendly individuals to be slapped on the right cheek and then welcomingly look the other way? This has happened to me one too many times now, and I have had enough. Do people walk past me on the street, recognize my character and decide that they want my eye and tooth, because they know that I won't lunge for theirs? And what feature of mine lets them know this about me? Do I have a big cross scribbled in red on my face that gives people the authority to meet me with repugnant aggression?
KINGSTON: Cut yourself some slack, nobody sees you as an opportunity to prove to themselves that there is someone lower than them out there.
SAM: Let's move onto something else, this is making me sick. We need to talk about Malcolm!
ANNA: Yes! I almost forgot. Kingston, I've got an idea.
KINGSTON: We've already discussed this --
ANNA (angrily): You and your pride! Let me help!
KINGSTON: What do you suggest, then?
YOU ARE READING
Purple Knuckles
General Fictionstory of my first ever love for sports, mixed martial arts/boxing. two brothers and extended family become desperate to fix a messy misunderstanding with a crime family, while the main character is trying to take every moment he can to change his da...
