“That was a cold piece of pie there, Mikey.”
“Yeah it was,” Jerry agreed. “Sucks to be Terry.”
Mike remained silent, watching his Father gather their gear. Dan held the ring rope as the three friends left the ring. Dan patted Mike’s shoulder as he ducked under the rope.
“Hell of a fight, kid. You knew he tapped out, right?”
“Terry told me he was going to kill me if he got a chance, Dad.”
The two locked eyes on the outside of the ring ropes. Dan nodded. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather play soccer or basketball?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well… okay then. Anybody have guts enough to see how my wife reacted to that ending?”
The teens exchanged uneasy glances without involuntarily looking toward where the rest of the Rawlins’ family and friends sat. Mike walked toward the locker room without pausing for what he knew would probably not be congratulations. Stan took the equipment bag from Dan. He and Jerry accompanied Mike into the locker room for the after fight checkout. One of the MMA officials with Derek Patterson on his nametag met them inside to examine Mike’s gloves and hands for the after fight ritual. His easy smile lightened the man’s dark complexion, which featured scars from what Mike knew had been Patterson’s own experience in full contact karate decades ago.
“You’re fine, Rawlins. Good fight. Do you want to wait for the ring doctor to finish up with Terry? Are you having any problems?”
Mike shook his head in the negative. “I’m okay, Mr. Patterson. I hope Terry’s injury isn’t too bad.”
“The initial indication from the doctor is a dislocated shoulder, painful but not-”
“You’re banned, Rawlins!” A heavyset man resembling Terry Santana strode toward Mike wearing a nametag with Julian Santana on it. Stan and Jerry blocked his way. “You maimed Terry on purpose! Get out of my way!”
Stan pushed the man backwards with enough force to make him backpedal and scramble for balance. “Stay where you are chum.”
Patterson moved quickly in front of the new arrival as other fighters getting ready for their bouts stopped what they were doing to watch the altercation. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Jules? I watched the fight. Rawlins couldn’t see Terry tap out because of his position. Jenkins stopped it the moment he saw Terry tap out and Mike released him. This is MMA, not table-tennis.”
Julian Santana glowered at the other fighters who had started chuckling at Patterson’s reminder of MMA’s more dangerous aspects. “He knew Terry tapped out! Admit it Rawlins!”
“I didn’t see Terry’s other hand,” Mike answered truthfully. “Terry’s a dangerous fighter and I had an arm-bar on him I didn’t want to chance losing my grip on. I can’t fight and referee.”
A loud smattering of agreement from the other fighters rumbled around the room. Santana was not a popular fighter.
“Exactly right, Jules,” Patterson agreed. “Go cool off and don’t be talkin’ anymore banning stuff. You ain’t the only board member. I’ve already been contacted by the San Jose police about the gun incident at the weigh-in. It seems the police have had other reports concerning Terry’s intimidation tactics. They’ve expressed interest in interviewing both you and Terry.”
Santana’s hands balled into fists. “I’ll see you thrown off the board, Patterson! Mark my words!”
Patterson smiled. “You do that, Jules.”
Santana seemed ready to launch but instead he turned away to the exit. Patterson watched him leave before facing Mike. “I guess it would be best to call it a night, Rawlins. I don’t know what Terry’s beef was at the weigh-in, but he definitely instigated it. As to the injury in the ring, the case is closed as far as I’m concerned. We don’t second guess our ref’s and Jenkins is one of the best. I saw you smile for a moment while Terry rolled around. I think maybe Jules saw it too. Don’t worry about it. I’ve smiled myself at inappropriate ring times.”
This brought a chorus of laughter from the intently listening audience of fighters. Mike nodded his thanks and shook hands with Patterson. “Thank you, Sir. We’ll take your advice and call it a night. C’mon guys.”
“Patterson sure turned Santana’s water off,” Jerry remarked. “We’re celebrating still, right Dempsey?”
“You better believe it,” Mike responded, following his friends toward the stands. “I don’t care if we have to rent a room for the night to get away from my family. It’s Friday night though. If you guys have something else planned with Jan and Connie, I can-”
“No way, Mikey!” Stan stopped to face Mike. “You think Jan, Connie or Gail care about poor old Terry Santana? You’re right about maybe having to stage the celebration elsewhere. Damn! We had it all set too with everyone’s parents about kickin’ back at your house overnight. Will your Mom be as horrified as your Dad thinks she will be?”
“I don’t know,” Mike admitted, shrugging into the parka Jerry handed him. “I’m so glad this fight’s over and I won, I’d like to enjoy the moment for a little while. His uncle sure was pissed. Anyway, there’s our entourage, dead ahead. If things go south in the next few moments can I catch a ride home with you guys?”
Stan clapped Mike on the shoulder. “Yep. After that glowing report you gave Jerry and me on our football expertise this afternoon, we’ve got your back… at least until your Mom starts slicin’ and dicin’ – then it’s every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost.”
Mike and Jerry laughed for the first time that night. “Where the hell do you get that stuff, Stan?”
“English class, Mikey. I’m learning all kinds of catchy old phrases to try out on you illiterate heathens.”
Jenny Rawlins gave her son a big hug. “I’m glad I came tonight and I won’t have to spend any time in the emergency room. How do you feel?”
“Great, Mom,” the surprised Mike replied seeing his Dad had a slight grin.
Mike accepted congratulations from his sister and friends before relating the locker room incident to them by way of explanation as to why they needed to leave rather than watch any more of the fights. To his surprise Jenny laughed appreciatively at Mike’s telling of the conversation between Julian Santana and Derek Patterson.
“I like that Patterson guy already. Are all of you staying over for the post-fight party?”
Eager declarations of assent were voiced immediately in response.
“Did you find out how Terry Santana is?” Laura asked.
“Who cares,” Jenny answered for Mike, causing a raucous outbreak of laughter at her flippant remark. “I saw the way that turd was looking at Mike during the referee’s instructions. He got hurt. Well… waaaahhh!”
When the laughter died down again, Dan put his arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “Jen’s a little pumped. Let’s go home.”
Stan, Jerry, Janis, Connie, and Gail split off from the Rawlins and their house guest Laura in the parking lot. Mike pulled a can of Fabreeze air freshener from his equipment bag. He did a quick spraying of himself before putting his equipment bag in the cargo area and entering their Chevy Equinox’s backseat. He sat in the middle between Laura and Joanie.
“What you told Patterson about being blocked from seeing Terry tap out. Was that true?”
“What’s it matter, Laura?” Jenny’s stare from the front seat, even in the dark had Laura straightening up in the seat.
“I…I was just curious.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Mike said. “No, I didn’t see him tap out, and no, I don’t know if it would have made any difference.”
“That’s plain enough,” Dan said. “Let’s drop the subject of tonight’s match except to celebrate Mike being the winner and still in one piece.”
“Amen to that,” Jenny agreed.
* * *
A police car was parked in front of the Rawlins’ home. Stan, Jerry, Janis, Connie, and Gail were in deep discussion with Officers Huang and Travers with Stan doing a mimic of the night’s ring action as Dan drove the Equ
inox into the driveway. Because everyone was smiling, Mike figured the police visit did not herald bad news. Officer Huang held out his hand to Mike when the late arrivals joined the group on the front sidewalk.
“Congratulations. We heard some of the results from our friends from SJPD, Gilmer and Natallia. Stan here was nice enough to reenact the fight for us in greater detail. It was a short one.”
John Travers shook hands with Mike too as Huang’s mention of Stan’s acting out elicited chuckles of appreciation. “We came by to thank you for sending the info on Julian Santana. We forwarded it. Joe Gilmer tried to get an investigation started before the fight but it wasn’t possible. Considering the result, I guess it wasn’t needed. Gilmer and Natallia will be talking to the Santanas very soon. I doubt Julian Santana will be on the board long after they find out he whitewashed a gun escapade.”
“We know what Terry’s capable of,” Huang added. “He’s been told to stay away from all of you. If he shows up to intimidate like he did over at the football practice he’ll be charged under the new stalker law.”
Travers grinned and gestured at the front window where Demon and Patches the cat had their heads poking through the curtain. “Maybe you folks will be able to concentrate on your otherworldly duties now.”
“Maybe,” Dan replied, shaking hands with Travers and Huang. “Thanks for coming by to let us know. We really are trying to stay under the radar.”
“We’ll help if we can,” Huang said. “In the meantime, we have the Demon on our list in front of all the psychics to call in case we lose someone.”
Jerry waited until the laughter died down before asking, “Does the San Leandro Police Department consult with anyone like a psychic?”
“That would be no, unless of course you count Tom’s Grandmother,” Travers answered.
“Very funny.” Huang shook his finger at Travers before getting into the passenger seat of the squad car. “You not so snappy with comebacks round-eye if I have Grandma Huang put the withered hand on you. G’night all. Have a great weekend.”
“Hey!” Travers knocked on the squad car passenger window. “What the hell’s a withered hand? Tom… ah… I’ll see you folks around.”
Travers hurried around to the driver’s side with everyone still on the sidewalk trying to hold back laughter with varying degrees of success. Travers drove away still talking animatedly to Huang, who waved and smiled through the window. Mike jogged to the front door and let a seemingly jet propelled Demon into their midst, tail wagging and head butting against his human companions. Demon sniffed and spent an inordinate amount of time around Mike before snorting distastefully while shaking his head.
“Even the Fabreeze can’t mask my Santana odor,” Mike said, scratching Demon’s head. “I’ll go get a shower and then walk you before our celebration.”
Demon hunched down with a growl before jumping forward to head butt Mike away from the house.
Mike looked around at his friends and family enjoying yet another Demon nonverbal command. “I guess I’ll be walking D first.”
“We’ll get everything ready for your return, Dempsey,” Janis said. “No sports tonight, boys. Movies, music, and fast food only.”
“After hell week at Davis and Mikey’s set to with Santana, I’ve had enough sporting events for the weekend,” Stan replied.
“Amen to that, brother,” Jerry agreed.
“Let’s go in the house then and decide what we want.” Dan gestured everyone inside before pointing at Mike and Demon. “Walk only. No extracurricular activities you two.”
“Arf.” Demon snorted and walked down the sidewalk in the direction of their usual park destination.
Mike glanced at Dan for a split second before jogging after Demon.
Gail moved around the group and started out after Mike.
“Hey!” Laura called out, stopping Gail momentarily. “Where’re you going?”
“I’ll keep Mike company on the walk,” Gail called back. “If you want to come too, keep up.”
Janis patted Laura on the back. “Might as well come on inside with us preggo. I like Gail. She seizes the moment.”
Laura looked around but saw very little sympathy. She sighed and gave a quick wave off with her hand. “I have to pee like a Russian racehorse anyway.”
Appreciative laughter followed Laura inside.
* * *
Gail caught up to Mike and Demon. “Great fight tonight. I talked to my cousin Vic after the fight. He said forget the rematch.”
Mike chuckled. “Vic marked me up worse than Terry did. Anyway… thanks.”
“I heard Laura’s whining is making you mental.”
This time Mike laughed and nodded. “I know it’s the hormones, but damn! Me and the guys scrambled for days to put together the home office for her at Demon Inc, and where does she end up staying… my house.”
“I know she was really sorry about the throwing the fight remark. Has any of this changed the way you feel about her?”
“Which part? Her banging a guy down in Florida, or her having his baby, or her ending up in our business enterprise, or her moving into the house so she’ll have a target rich environment, or-”
“Hey, okay!” Gail laughed. “I get it.”
“We don’t fall out of love with someone we really care about,” Mike expanded his statement as they drew near the park and Demon streaked into the open landscape. “Have recent events made me see her in a different way? Sure.”
Demon jogged back and dropped a tennis ball at Mike’s feet as he and Gail walked along the fence lined entrance driveway to the park. Mike chuckled and picked up the ball, heaving far into the darkness with Demon barreling after it.
“Where the hell did he get that ball?”
“Best not to ask, Gail. Once when we came here without anything to throw he brought out his own Frisbee. He has them stashed in remote locations near the fence out by the aqueduct.”
“You and Demon are something else. No matter whether we ever get past the pals stage, it’s been great meeting up with you and your friends. That damn Alcatraz set to was the most exciting thing I’ve ever been through.”
“Other than almost getting killed in the water at Del Valle, right?”
Gail held her hands up over her face. “You’ll never forget that one, will you?”
“I’m not much of a forgetter. For instance, I remember our kiss in the parking lot.”
Gail moved closer and took Mike’s hands in hers. “I’m glad. Maybe-”
Demon head butted Gail’s leg, dropping the tennis ball near her foot. Gail giggled, picked up the ball, and tossed it toward the far reaches of the park. “I get the feeling we’re not meant to have a close moment without an interruption.”
Mike kissed her. In moments a wild fire flared between the two no amount of Demon head-butting could cool. With a short bark of protest Demon flopped down near the writhing teens. Gail shoved free of Mike, her breath coming in short gasps. He had allowed her to break free although every nerve ending in his body was aflame.
“Jesus, Mike!” Gail picked up Demon’s ball and heaved it. After watching Demon launch in pursuit, she turned to him, unable to make out his features in the darkness. “Where did that come from?”
Mike turned away from her, his fists clenched at his sides. “A whole jumble of places, Gail. I realized tonight during the fight with Terry I could have killed him without a second thought or a single regret. Holding you just now made me remember something better that’s in me too.”
Gail grabbed his left arm with both her hands, leaning into his side. “I...I didn’t mean it as some kind of put down, Mike. I wanted you to know how much I value your friendship, and what a kick it’s been being included in what’s happened. Demon saving that little girl on Alcatraz and finding the other girl after she’d been kidnapped was awesome. Playing a part in it is beyond description.”
Gail pulled away, jabbing her finger accusingly at Mike. “After that kiss, you’ll never
be able to deny a bond with me, Dempsey.”
Mike smiled without turning as he intercepted the returning Demon and slung the tennis ball nearly all the way to Bonaire Park’s fence. “Contrary to what you probably thought, I never denied we had a connection. It’s all crazy. It seems like months since that night at Del Valle.”
Gail sighed while taking up a position next to Mike. “Yeah, it does! What are you going to do about Laura… I mean with the living conditions?”
“Let her know when she’s out of line. There’s not much more that I can do. Joanie loves having her stay with us. She’s really into having a sister to confide in. Maybe I’ll go live at Demon Inc.”
Gail nudged into Mike in conspiratorial fashion. “That would open up a few interesting possibilities.”
Mike heaved another strike to the Bonaire Park fence with Demon in hot pursuit. “Yeah, it does. Just one thing though, I like your Dad a lot. It’s pretty tough reconciling doing anything behind his back after all the stuff he’s done for a bunch of strangers.”
“Oh thank you for bringing up my Dad.” Gail gave Mike the complete hands on hips, head lowered, eyebrows knitted in frowning mock anger stance. “Couldn’t be a teen for five minutes without lapsing into your forty year old man persona, could ya’? Why don’t we discuss curfews, bedtimes, and rules of engagement while you’re on a roll?”
Mike had started laughing midway through Gail’s tirade, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. Even Demon, who arrived ball in mouth, sat down to listen until she finished. Mike held his hands up, palms out. “Sorry. I respect your Dad a lot. I didn’t mean to call my teen sex drive into question.”
“Too late. When we’re into hot meeting ideas next time, maybe you’ll think twice about planting my Dad’s face in my head.” Gail picked up Demon’s ball and threw it with attitude.
“Duly noted.” Mike smiled as Demon came back without his ball and walked past them toward the street.
Gail laughed. “Fetch is over for the night, huh?”
Demon (The Mike Rawlins Series Book 1) Page 17
