After filing his company for bankruptcy, Kyle's wife leaves him and his three-year-old son. Now a forty-two-year-old divorcee with no parenting skills or money, Kyle decides to move back to the small home town he grew up in.
He should have lost all...
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The gym was bigger than Kyle had expected. It had a nice basketball court that doubled as a long tennis court. The edges had painted tracks on them, and the bleachers rounded the corners, but that wasn't where he and Chaska were headed. The younger man led him to the room beside the gym teacher's office. Inside, there was a small boxing ring, and to the side, there were old fights dummies that had their foams sticking out on various sides.
Kyle settled down on one of the only stray plastic chairs that didn't look like it would fall apart if someone sat on it. Chaska took off his shirt, making Kyle stare a bit before looking down at the carpeted floor.
He heard a laugh, and then a gentle sigh. "You can look." Were the words Chaska spoke. Kyle raised his head, watching as the man hurled one of the dummies into the boxing ring before he put on his gloves and went into action.
His strikes were hard, fast, and perfectly timed. "Do you want to join me?" Chaska asked, looking up with a grin. Kyle winced at being at the receiving end of any of the man's blows.
"I'll pass," he said, remembering to keep his voice high as he crouched forward and interlaced his fingers. He watched the tan-skinned man shake his head at him in disappointment.
"I won't hit you, we'll both hit the dummy," he muttered, pointing a hand towards the poor thing. Now Kyle knew why some parts of it had torn open to let out some stuffing.
"I don't know how to box," Kyle muttered, watching Chaska bounce around the ring while punching the air. He had a focused look on his face as he paced around the ring muttering something under his breath. Kyle didn't miss the smile that played on his lips. It seemed this was where Chaska was happiest, and it both puzzled and fascinated him.
"It's not hard," the man said, pursing his lips as he stood still and paced his hands on his waist. "If I show you a couple of stances and how to throw a punch, you'll be good to go," he said, smiling. His breathing was labored from his workout. His chest visibly rose and fell. The confirmation that it wasn't only his hands that were built was right in front of the older man. Kyle looked away, picking at the baby hairs on his hairline as he thought about his offer.
"Give me thirty minutes," Kyle said, and Chaska nodded, taking a few steps backward.
"Okay, thirty minutes and you have to join me," he said, pointing a glove towards me before turning towards the practice dummy to deliver a series of kicks and punches.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said in a raspy voice, crouched over a bit as he stared at the ring's floor. "When you were in school what were you like?" he asked, not waiting for Kyle to answer his first question.
Kyle looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember. He never did much. He had a handful of 'friends' that he didn't meet up with after school hours. Apart from doing well in woodwork and electrical installation, Kyle sucked at school. His first option had been to get into college outside town, but that didn't work out. So, he just packed up and left, hoping things would go his way, which they did.
