Man Out of Time - A Captain America / Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 21

For those who asked about the pink post-it note with the –P-, if you saw Iron Man I, that was how Pepper signed the note on the Mach 1 arc reactor with the stand that said 'proof that Tony Stark has a heart.'

Thanks for reading…

X

Chapter 21

"Pankration," Bernice read aloud. The sign looked newly painted, a dark-brown-and-gold logo that looked like two Olympiads wrestling on one side of the sign, the same two figures engaged in martial arts kicking on the other. She glanced at the pink post-it note and confirmed it was the correct address. The ancient door and windows appeared to be real glass, not Plexiglas like most store fronts in the area. White café-style curtains blocked the goings-on inside from casual view, but could be overlooked by standing on tiptoe. The sidewalk was cracked and stained, but the building had a neatness about it that contrasted with the rough neighborhood. She pushed through the door, a small bell chiming her arrival.

The sound of grunts and laughter greeted her ears as soon as she stepped inside, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the change of lighting. Two men exchanged punches in a boxing ring. Others engaged in fitness activities involving gym equipment and weights. The old-fashioned kind. Not the fancy Nautilus equipment Bernice used at the Stark Industries fitness center. The floor was rubber tile, long past its useful life, but the walls and ceiling had been freshly painted. On the far wall, a partially completed mural depicted the same two ancient Greek Olympiads on the sign outside, a drop cloth and ladder propped to one side as though the artist would come back and finish the work soon. The entire gym smelled of paint, sweat and disenfectant.

Laughter caught her attention. At the rear of the gym, a group of teenagers ribbed a skinny Hispanic kid wearing DDP (Dominicans Don't Play) gang colors hanging off a pair of rings suspended from the ceiling. Beneath him, a second boy wearing rival Asian Boyz blue gang colors steadied the kid as he dangled, trying to pull himself up.

"C'mon, Lupe!" half the kids said. "You can do it!"

"Get that scrawny 'spic ass of yours up on them rings," the other half hooted.

Bernice noted it was the supposedly 'rival' gang which was cheering the skinny kid on. The kids wearing the athlete's own gang colors were the ones ribbing him, but the ribbing appeared to be good-natured.

"Can I help you, miss?"

An elderly Hispanic man squinted at her with an enormous grin. Several teeth were missing in the front of his mouth. The man was small, but wiry, with the knobby knuckles and elbows you might see in somebody who had done hard physical labor their entire lives.

"I'm looking for Steve Rogers," Bernice said. "I'm a … friend."

"Ah," the old man said, his grin growing wider. "Didn't think you were here to sign up. We don't get too many ladies in this place." The old man pointed to the gang kids who had caught Bernice's interest. "He's over there."

Bernice ignored the curious stares. Most of the men who worked out here appeared to be prize fighters who were long past their prime. She moved towards the group of boys, noting the kid on the rings had pulled himself up and raised his feet to balance level with his waist. Both groups of boys cheered and the skinny kid dropped to the ground. It struck her how much the boys mannerisms and colorful clothing reminded her of a flock of exotic birds. She adjusted the bag she carried slung over one shoulder, wishing fervently she'd brought her own sketch pad to capture the images on paper.

"See? All it takes is determination and lots of practice," a voice called over the cacophony. Steve's voice. "Eight hundred and eighty-eight times it takes for the average person to master a new physical skill."