Stories of LITA 1

II - The Seasons - Spring

The Boxing Ring:

I was 8 when my mother ran away, shocked by the fact that my father dared lay his hands on her. I don't exactly remember the reason why they fought, but in likelihood it was because of me. My father had been a boxer. And a mean drunk. So when you put the two together, it was not surprising that fists flew freely around. Just that they hadn't been raised at my mother so far. But when they did, mom bailed. Although I did sometimes wish she had taken me with her. Yayi was lovely to me, despite the fact that I had been dumped on her, along with a son was on just this side of useless. I vowed to work very hard so that I could provide for her.

I was 10 when father hit me for the first time. I had made a friend at the boxing gym and sat and talked, for all of 5 minutes, and did not practice. 'Pete, practice." That's all he had said at that time, but I had not even fully stepped into the door of our house, when he slapped me across the face. I lay shocked on the floor, not even realising that my lip had been split open. I had been so aghast by what my dad did, that I just lay there sobbing. He had proceeded to kick me, saying that no son of his could be that much of a pansy to cry at such a small thing. Then he had left, most likely to drink more.

My grandmother was the one who found, still lying there, curled in a ball. After that, whenever my father hit me, he made sure it was not at home, and not in visible places. I just assumed that my grandmother said something to him. Five years later, he asked me to box for the first time, as a professional. I lost, badly. And I got my worst beating to date. The doctor who took care of me told me that since I was a minor, I could contact child services if I wanted to get out of this mess. But I could not and would not leave my grandmother behind with that man. Even then, I prided myself as a protector of sorts. For five years after, I kept boxing against bigger men kept losing, and kept getting beaten by my father.

I was 20 when Kinn approached me, via Arm. He had seen my first victory ever and was impressed with me. Hell! Even I was impressed with myself, and so, so proud, finally hoping this was the day my father would be proud of me. I told Arm that I would think about it, too much in a hurry to go home and make my father look at me in a better light. Arm just gave me his number and walked away. I ran home with my medal. If I had thought that the beating I got after I had lost the first time was bad, the one I got after winning for the first time put me in hospital for nearly two weeks. I lay there in that white sterilised room, staring at the ceiling and contemplated on the shit storm that was my life. The day the doctor came and told me that I could be discharged, I called the number Arm had given me. "Pete, you are ready to be with us?" the voice, I presumed Arm's, asked me. "Yes, but I can't leave my grandmother with my father. If I do, he may hit her, and I can't have that," I said, sighing at the thought.

"Don't worry. We will take care of it," Arm said, and cut the call. The next day, when I reached home after leaving the hospital (where all my bills had been paid), I was met with Kinn Theerpanayakul, flanked by Arm and one more person who I later found out was called Big. My grandmother sat with them, and my father was nowhere to be seen. "Don't worry Yayi, we will take good care of Pete. We always take care of those who work for us," Kinn said, with a side smirk, his eyes not leaving mine, as if asking if I was going to work for him. I nodded subtly, unable to process more than that. I promised to send money to my Yayi and moved to Bangkok to begin my journey with the Theerpanayakul family. While I was strong and agile, and great at hand-to-hand combat, I was weak when it came to guns and other things. So I trained, as hard as I could, double work really. Some of the bodyguards were good to me and helped me to better myself. Some were just assholes, and I just avoided them. Out of these, Ken and Big were the worst. Their sense of superiority was so much so that they considered Khun Nu's guards not worth their mention. Big clearly had a huge crush on Kinn and no one openly admitted it, until Porche came along. Porche should have been named chaos instead.