Gloves Off

by Louisa Reid

  when i get home,

  mum’s waiting

  but not today

  the house is quiet,

  no note, no message

  as if it’s conspired

  to trick me,

  send me running scared

  into the street

  as if i’d dare

  shout her name

  up and down the block

  bang on doors

  let them mock

  didn’t think she could walk, love,

  i hear someone sneer

  can’t have gone far, love,

  she’ll be around here.

  mum, i call, mum –

  i’m a kid lost in the snow –

  mum, where are you?

  i don’t want her to go

  out of doors

  the streets are sheet ice

  the sky is like knives

  the dangers are rife.

  the doorbell chimes

  mikey is here,

  his friend’s mum’s dropping him back,

  i pretend mum’s near.

  everything’s quiet

  but for my heart

  missing its beats

  on red alert.

  BERNADETTE (17)

  Bypasses

  Bands

  And

  Sleeves.

  The options

  Go on for ever.

  But the specialist says

  I qualify –

  My BMI

  Is way too high.

  In fact, he’s quite surprised

  I’m still alive.

  No.

  He didn’t say that –

  It was in his eyes.

  “It’s not a magic wand,” he says.

  “Your lifestyle, your diet, will have to change.

  It’s a long process,

  You’ll need to lose weight.

  And, of course, there’ll be a long wait.”

  How long? I ask.

  Impatient at last,

  I don’t have time, I’m already almost too late.

  BACK

  where’ve you been?

  i yell

  are you okay?

  mum looks upset

  doesn’t want to say

  anything at all,

  drops her coat in the hall

  envelops mikey in a hug.

  “i’m fine, don’t fuss.”

  but where’ve you been?

  “out,” she says, “i got held up.

  i’m back now, don’t worry, love.”

  relief swells, but i’m angry –

  she’s acting strange

  as if i’m stupid,

  i know her ways –

  this isn’t mum.

  fine, i say,

  well, i’m off too.

  “where?” she asks.

  “training?”

  too late

  i’m gone.

  SHOW OFF

  i want to see how much i can lift.

  pile on the weights

  and push the questions high above me,

  frustration powering my muscles,

  pumping my arms.

  i guess i’m stronger than i thought.

  jane lifts an eyebrow,

  slaps my hand –

  high five –

  and i

  let a little swagger into my stride.

  “but watch it, lil,” jane says,

  “don’t make those arms

  too heavy to lift:

  light and fast, lil, light and fast.”

  no sign of rosie,

  she isn’t always here,

  but kezia’s in though.

  “want to spar?”

  i shrug and agree

  it doesn’t occur to me

  to refuse.

  we get in the ring

  and that’s when my stomach goes

  and all i can hear

  is my pulse

  swelling in my ears.

  i push in my mouthguard,

  pull on my gloves –

  look round

  see jane at the ropes

  a few others gathered.

  what is this?

  but there’s no time to back out,

  kezia’s ready

  grinning, waiting,

  and fixing me with

  her stare,

  which means

  come on!

  hurry up!

  too slow!

  she gets the first touch

  i forget to duck

  of course it hurts,

  i’m used to that

  and let it slide

  off me,

  because there’s no time

  to think about how

  sore you are,

  how sore you’re going to be,

  no time to

  plan or plot

  no time to worry.

  just move

  like jane taught you

  like you’ve practised with rosie

  and dad

  a hundred times

  a thousand.

  gloves up in your bedroom

  throwing your punches

  watching your feet

  moving through the days

  like it’s all been for this.

  protect your face,

  and find your space.

  i get a hit

  another

  and again

  it’s kezia who’s

  caught off guard this time,

  i take advantage

  of my advantage,

  of my size

  and of my strength

  suddenly feel

  a thousand feet tall

  when she’s up against the ropes

  breath coming fast

  my feet moving faster

  can’t take it for granted

  i’ll win,

  but i know i can try.

  kezia fights back,

  our fists start to fly.

  how long has it been?

  a blur of a fight

  our four rounds are up

  and no one is down.

  she hits me again,

  but my chin’s granite now

  though there’s blood in my mouth –

  i still don’t fall.

  jane steps into the ring,

  “well done,” she begins

  and i like her smile,

  wipe sweat out of my eyes,

  as she starts telling us

  where we went wrong.

  i try to listen, and try to learn,

  then finally, we’re done –

  i’m aching, burning, and tall.

  kezia smiles

  looks up, catches my eye,

  “you got better,” she says,

  “nice one,

  see you around.”

  FULL OF IT

  i can’t wait to tell dad,

  but he’s not there when i get home,

  just mum.

  it’s so quiet

  too quiet

  not even the sound of her sewing machine,

  or the TV chattering

  in the darkness.

  “good time?”

  mum asks.

  her face is pale,

  her expression strange.

  i say, yes,

  i did well,

  and wonder how much

  she’d like to hear.

  she doesn’t really get it.

  “that’s great, love, come in and sit

  down for a bit, i want to talk to you.”

  where’s dad?

  her eyes drift away.

  “not here at the minute,

  he’ll be back in a bit.”

  something’s wrong

  and i don’t want to hear it,

  all the whispered anger

  the heated exchanges

  mum getting quieter, not speaking to dad –

  dad going out, coming in late,

  what’s happened
to them?

  is he planning to leave?

  but mum shakes her head,

  “no,

  he wouldn’t do that

  we’re a team.”

  though her tears make me wonder.

  so what’s happening then?

  might as well face it,

  but there’s no way i’m ready for

  what comes next.

  “today

  when i was out

  i was . . .”

  she swallows,

  hands clenched,

  like she’s praying hard.

  “up at the hospital

  seeing a nurse,

  getting some tests,

  talking to doctors,

  things like that.”

  and it all makes sense –

  oh my god

  are you ill?

  oh mum,

  what’s wrong?

  and i’m drowning in guilt for being a brat

  i’m hugging her tight,

  hating the fact

  that i’ve shouted and yelled

  been a spoilt kid

  and she’s got this going on

  but all i’ve thought of is me.

  “no!

  hold on, lily,

  that’s not it.

  please, i’m not really sick

  or, i’m sorry,

  i’m sorry, just listen

  you’ve got the wrong end of

  the stick.”

  and then she explains

  what she’s planning to do,

  how dad isn’t happy,

  but he’s just worried right now,

  but she thinks that it’s best

  and hopes i’ll agree

  it will change her life

  she wants to be

  free.

  BERNADETTE (18)

  The last thing I ever wanted

  Was to let my daughter down.

  Seems it’s all I manage, though.

  She looks at me

  As if I’ve told her

  I’m running away

  And never coming back.

  “But Mum,” she says,

  “You can’t.”

  I have to.

  I’m desperate.

  I don’t say that, of course

  You can’t tell your kid

  You’re no longer living,

  Just waiting to die.

  I know it’s dangerous, Lil,

  I tell her.

  Of course there are risks.

  Does she think I don’t realize?

  That I haven’t been told?

  But I’ve decided –

  And yes, of course I’m scared,

  I’m only human.

  I tell her so,

  And she runs from me,

  Slams her door

  Locks me out

  And I wonder

  If I’ll ever do anything right again.

  HARD

  miss moves us around –

  she thinks she can –

  delighted with this,

  her new seating plan.

  is she insane

  hasn’t she seen?

  the way that he taunts me

  from across the room?

  now aidan’s beside me

  my stomach sickens,

  he sniggers and shouts

  argues, won’t listen.

  he kicks his chair

  then slumps down at last,

  swearing under his breath

  gestures at me, then the class

  laughs along,

  thinks he’s funny

  i shuffle away,

  thinking of running.

  then he reaches out

  and lifts up my pen

  chucks it to stacey

  sniggers again.

  stop it, i say

  give my stuff back.

  “fuck off,” he says,

  “you stupid fat slag.”

  he starts flinging my books

  as the teacher protests,

  laughs in her face

  he knows she’s no threat,

  “pig girl,” he says,

  “come on, suck my dick.”

  shows me his crotch,

  “you crap bitch,

  fat girl wants it,”

  he calls out to his mates.

  my face is burning,

  my body shakes.

  get lost, i scream,

  what’s the matter with you?

  but it’s here, it’s happening,

  i know what to do.

  he goes for my neck

  tries to pull my head low,

  wants to bury me there

  wants to put on a show.

  but i push and i shove

  the desk topples, the chairs,

  i use my shoulders, my feet,

  as all my rage flares,

  because this isn’t happening –

  not even once more –

  i’m not a victim

  time to even the score,

  and

  so,

  i

  swing and i smash

  the whole room explodes

  in shouts of delight,

  nobody knows

  who i am any more –

  that i have a plan –

  that i’ve played this one out

  and won time and again.

  “oh my god! look at her!

  fight! go on! fight!”

  aidan is coming for me,

  won’t let this lie.

  his nose is bleeding,

  still, he grabs and he lunges,

  i duck and i dodge,

  watch as he stumbles,

  and because he’s off guard

  he doesn’t know what to do,

  he thinks he’s too hard

  doesn’t know that i grew

  harder than him,

  wear a shell like a shield,

  but he won’t give in

  he’s not going to yield,

  miss is crying and shrieking,

  and trying to end

  what is only beginning,

  but if i want to send

  them a message

  that this stops now

  i will have to go further

  before i fall down.

  jane’s voice in my head –

  that i’m worth something too,

  dad’s got my back,

  and i swing through

  with a hard left hook

  follow through with a jab

  he staggers backwards

  didn’t know i could stab.

  my fists are on fire,

  my monster is out,

  he’ll never dare touch me

  not after this bout.

  faster and faster

  my fists start to bleed,

  but i don’t feel them hurting

  he can’t take my speed.

  i’m only just starting,

  want to go all the way,

  want to make him see clearly

  now i’m having my say,

  but it’s over so quickly

  when someone catches my arm

  and they’re pulling me away

  before i do harm.

  it’s what he deserves

  why can’t you see?

  why shouldn’t i fight back?

  they won’t let me be.

  “for god’s sake stop it!”

  aidan’s still on the floor

  cradling his nose

  but i want to do more –

  blood will have blood,

  isn’t that the right line?

  now it is true

  this is my time.

  i did it, i got him

  and i could do it again.

  i stand in the hallway,

  feeling no shame.

  PUNISHMENT

  “this isn’t a zoo,” the head teacher says

  “you can’t just hit people

  and think that’s
okay.”

  everyone is waiting for me to say sorry,

  i shrug, shut my eyes.

  i’m not even bothered.

  “it’s not like you,” my form teacher pleads.

  i don’t care now –

  i’ve seen him bleed.

  it serves him right, i say in the end,

  they aren’t impressed

  and so they suspend

  me for a week.

  i shrug

  and say thanks.

  HARDER

  rosie laughs when i tell her about aidan,

  and then forces her face straight,

  wags her finger and says,

  “don’t tell jane.”

  why not?

  she’s the one who told me to

  stand up for myself, i say,

  pulling on my gloves.

  “i don’t reckon she meant like that,

  i think she meant in the ring,”

  rosie says, and jabs me

  as we begin

  sparring, panting, dancing

  (at least that’s the way rosie moves –

  i could watch her all day

  and all night).

  “what did your mum say?”

  she’s not happy, i gasp,

  as i duck, and swing,

  but tough,

  right?

  in reality, mum cried

  and dad swore.

  but that had been about aidan really,

  about the things he’d said

  and which i’d written on a piece of paper

  and pushed across the kitchen table,

  unable to put

  them into my mouth.

  (i haven’t told rosie what the fight was about –

  if i say those things

  then she might think them too,

  might realize

  that aidan’s got it right.)

  “good for you, lil,” dad had said,

  his face white

  and pinched

  as he tried to hold his anger in.

  but mum had just wept, and wept and wept.

  it made me want to hit her too.

  ROCK

  the only thing left to do is

  fight

  train

  run.

  work at getting harder,

  faster.

  work at not feeling

  the blows,

  at not feeling anything at all.

  let them boo

  or shout me down

  laugh and look.

  i can be stronger.

  rock

  that doesn’t flinch.

  stone

  that won’t cry.

  don’t want to be home