BOMAW 7-9

by Mercedes Keyes

  Everyone laughed, again loving it, slapped high fives and were geared up to see it. While Shawn and Jye stood about the same height, it was easy to see that Jye was bigger, more muscles. Jye had thick arms, pumped body, strong legs. Jesse however, knew what no one else did about Shawn. Knew that he had been putting Shawn threw it. Making him eat lots of protein, work out hard to build solid strength, real definition to the hidden strength that was already there. Jesse wasn't stupid, he knew that Jye, like so many other's, had artificial strength, steroid induced. It was all cosmetic, to look good. And that's all it was. Jye drank a lot. Jye smoked weed too much. As for physical labor, Jye never worked a really hard day in his life. Whatever strength in him, was good for a burst of strength, it wouldn't hold up if tested to the full, forcing him to endure a length of time. As for Shawn, Jesse knew how strong he was. How deceptive his tone, lithe, physique was. True strength took time to build, Shawn had a head start on it. Jesse knew this from the time they'd been together. The strength that was in him, in the end, was the real thing, it was there, and he'd pushed Shawn to build on it. The other's hadn't a clue that Shawn was a lot stronger than he looked from the offset. They didn't know about his past lifestyle, one that Jesse was learning about, bits and pieces, here and there - as Shawn opened up to him. He was sure about the big picture, about the fact that his life hadn't been easy, that he'd been worked good and hard, because his strength was not that of a normal youth. He was solid to the core. Strong from within, time and working out, would build on the surface to show it, giving him size - that would come later. Only worry Jesse had, was his broken nose.

  "You - gone pin me?" Jye asked, about to laugh, looking Shawn up and down.

  "I'm gonna try, that's for damn sure. If I do, its over Jye. Instead of jabbing me in the back, I want you to watch my back. Because Jye, if you let me in, I got your back. You have my word on that. But first, I need to prove, that if I got your back, you know you're covered."

  "That white boy got some balls man! Even if his ass don't win - m'man got balls! That's for dai-amn sho'!" One of the front liners called out, hyped to see the match.

  Another one, had a feeling and started calling out, "Place your bets - place your bets! Place yo'god-damn bets! Right here! Fill this hand for the white boy, fill this hand for Jye!"

  Some were quick to place their bets. Many had no money and could only watch. Jesse walked over, put a fifty in the hand for Shawn. Those that were betting, shook their heads, "Man you must be crazy, white boy gone be spitting grit and gravel. Boy got balls yeah, but I ain't bettin' on his ass!"

  Jesse smiled.

  The man holding the money, put his own with Jesse, because he could see it as well, he wasn't stupid - this white boy had heart, and sometimes, that's all you needed. Either way, it was a gamble, if Jesse put his money on him, that reference was good enough.

  Jye was walking around Shawn, checking him out, using the intimidation tactic. Shawn stood still and let him walk around him, let him look all he wanted. He was focusing on what was to come. He had to brace himself, yet relax for whatever pain might come. He couldn't worry about what Jye was doing, he had to focus and use everything his life thus far taught him when it came to battle. When Jye came back around to the front, he stared Shawn straight in the eyes.

  "You know, yo'ass good as pinned right?" Jye asked, he sucked in his full bottom lip, catching it with his teeth, pressing his nose against Shawn's broken one. Shawn's eyes were starting to swell up, as well the inner membranes of his nose, forcing him to really focus on careful breathing from his mouth.

  "Give me your word Jye. State it before everyone here. If I pin you... what?" Shawn put it out there.

  Jye laughed, and turned before everyone, made a big and loud production of it. Shouting and boasting, "If this motha'fucka' pin ME! Me goddammit! His ass is in for - LIFE! Shit! If he can pin ME?! Shit boy! If you can pin me?..." He turned back to Shawn, "... I want you to step up in here, wit'yo' dick in yo' hand, like you got the biggest dick known to man! Shit! IF you can pin me! Yo' white ass. Shit - name you? Yeah, if you can pin me, I'll name yo' ass alright, but you got to put up, or shet the fuck up! Wanna say yo' goodbyes now white boy?"

  "No, no goodbyes, I want you to say it Jye, say I have your word."

  Jye stared at him a moment, then turned and looked at those watching.

  "Give your word Jye man! Give your word!" They all called out.

  Jye turned back to Shawn, "You got it white boy. I give you my word, if you pin me, you got it."

  Shawn nodded, "Enough talk, let's do it." he requested.

  Jesse stepped up and said right in Jye's face.

  "Stay the fuck - away from his nose! You touch his nose? You lost! You forfeit the challenge! Plus, its me and you then, and you know me motha'fucka - I ain' tryin' to like yo'ass! Now shirts off." Jesse ordered.

  Jye pulled his shirt off over his head, flexing his muscles as he did. His body was incredible to behold. Chocolate brown, smooth, and muscled to the hilt, tattoos decorating his arms and on one of his pecks. Seeing him that way, made a few wish they had money to bet on it. However, it was too late, bets were closed.

  Shawn pulled his shirt off over his head.

  Not an ounce of fat on him. His arms and chest, lean and whipcord intense. While he was not the size of Jye, his body got their attention. His body reminded them of a gymnastic. His stomach showed abs clear and defined, a hard and chiselled six pack that was hard to ignore. Jesse was proud, Shawn didn't have mass yet, but he looked damn good, fit as hell.

  "I'm gone count down from five." He said loud enough for everyone to hear, and then to Shawn. "You pin - his - ass - down! I ain't fuckin' playin' with you. Understand?"

  Shawn nodded.

  Jesse turned eyeing Jye. "When he pin you Jye, take it like a man. It ends right then, right there."

  "TAKE IT LIKE A MAN JYE! Take it like a man Jye!" Was echoed through the crowd.

  Final confrontation

  "Five - four - three - two - lock on!"

  Jye went down to ram into Shawn with a power launch meant to take him to his back right away. Shawn knew that he would use his size to do that and was ready, slapping his hands to Jye's strong shoulders, taking the hit from the larger man, he rode him like a bull in a rodeo. Shawn lifted his feet off the ground and let Jye's momentum move him through the air, but he didn't put him on his back like he'd intended. When Shawn's feet hit the ground again, Jye only accomplished sliding him back across the cracked concrete. With their heads, side by side, both trying to get a grip hold of the other to put their opponent down, they grappled. Shawn knew not to expend his energy trying to force Jye down, he was too big and too strong. The key, was endurance. Shawn had wrestled in school. Wrestled guys that were twice his size often. He knew the game well. Body mass was tiring to carry and endure if forced to exertion.

  Jye had one objective. To get him down quickly and pin him.

  Problem, he couldn't get him off of his feet.

  Shawn had very strong legs from being a runner, a sprinter. He also had rock hard butt muscles and all were braced as he leaned into Jye and basically rode and moved with each counter move Jye tried to make on him. He focused on using as few groups of muscles from his thighs and stomach as possible, the key was to avoid exertion. Don't push. Don't force. Don't strain. Just keep limber and be ready to bounce and move, keeping his feet ready to change position. As they grunted and danced with each other, Shawn followed Jye's move as if they were dancing, Jye leading. He could feel which way he was going to go. The crowd of onlookers grew. The yelling, jeering, cheering was music for Shawn, used to it from school. However, it was getting to Jye, irritating him. Making him feel under pressure. Making him feel that he needed to be done with this. He was wrestling with a smaller framed white boy.

  No competition, right?

  Jye was finding out, that conclusion had been his error. Because Jye hadn't finished school, dropped out the minute he turned sixteen, interested in
nothing but basketball and hanging out. Smoking, drinking. Getting high. Getting a piece of ass. Getting into fights that were usually quickly over because he used the element of surprise by stealing on someone, breaking their nose and then kicking their ass, gave him the reputation of one not to be messed with. Nothing in that was helping him that day.

  He could not let this white boy pin him.

  In a burst of anger and aggression, he tried to twist and flip him. Shawn knew the move was coming. How many times had this been done to him by others to get him down. It had only worked once, and that once had been enough, no one succeeded with it again, and he certainly wasn't going to fall from it now. He could feel the moment Jye tensed, to shift in to make the move, Shawn launched himself back and away with feet lifted to ride Jye's shoulders, pressing him downward with his weight. The unexpected move sent Jye down face first. Shawn landed on his back, made him struggle to get up, forcing him to use up more energy and waited until Jye was about to flip him, and sprang back off of him to his feet. Back into position, crouched and ready.

  Jye shot to his feet, chest full of gravel and dirt, scratched up, bits of blood seeping. Worst part, the move had cost him, he was winded. He was running out of energy. Instead of learning, thinking, buying time; using anger and now frustration, he charged at Shawn again, shouting out loud; more expenditure of energy. Another rule in wrestling, don't shout. You need that air for breathing and fortifying. Using it makes it too easy for your opponent to knock the wind out of you, and once its gone, its hell to catch your breath afterwards in the tussle. Every move , hold, and lock-on, costs a breath, if you're short of breath, you can't make it up, you won't get it back, not while the wrestle goes on. Shawn could hear his coaches from school telling him that. His father, telling him that. Jye's charge at Shawn low and deep, gave Shawn the perfect launching perch to spring off of, hooking his hand at Jye's neck, he turned pulling Jye to him and once again, he had Jye's back, using a bear power hold, his arms locked around his torso, hands clasped tightly before Jye's diaphragm as he forced him to use up more energy to shake him off, stumbling, Jye went down a second time.

  "WHITE BOY GOT SOME MOVES! WHITE BOY ALL ON HIS ASS - MAN!! WHAT THE FUCK! WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT MOTHA'FUCKA?!" Was heard yelled out over the noise of those gathered.

  "I'ON WANNA BET! GIMME BACK MY MONEY! I'ON WANNA BET! GIMME BACK MY MONEY! HUSTLIN' MOTHA'FUCKA'!!! Gimme back my shit!" Somebody was complaining. "FUCK THAT! NIGGAS CAN'T BE TRUSTED TO DO SHIT - LEGIT!! GIMME MY SHIT MAN!!"

  "JYE WHAT'S WRONG MAN!?? PIN THAT WHITE BOY! STOP PLAYIN' WITH HIS ASS MAN! I DON' BET ON YOU MOTHA'FUCKA'!!!" Someone else yelled.

  Shawn let go and was off Jye again, he prayed that Jye stand up, and try once more. He knew that he was almost spent. He was breathing hard, not a paced steady breathing, but a struggling to catch his next breath kind of breathing. Shawn knew that the next time he took him down, that would be it, he would pin him then. Jye wasn't in shape for this and he didn't want to hurt Jye, didn't want to cause him to hyperventilate, or worse, have a heart attack or stroke. The next down would be it.

  Jye stood and there was no doubt, he was in trouble. He was actually getting dizzy. Pride. Pride. Pride. Pride. Pride. He couldn't just give it up. He would lock onto Shawn he decided, make it look like he was doing something so he could rest. That's what he wanted to do, but Shawn had other ideas. Jye locked on to him again, grid-locked. They were sweating now, bodies slick. Shawn could feel that Jye was out of strength, he was just holding onto him, going through the motions. He had to end it now. He could not let him rest even a moment, he could not let him catch his breath, he could not let him re-charge even a little bit. Nor did he wish for him to go on and end up seriously hurt. Shawn took him down, with little effort.

  Jye couldn't catch his breath, so he couldn't get in the oxygen needed to drive his muscles, he was done.

  Shawn pinned him.

  Jesse James Douglas counted to ten with the crowd counting along, they hit ten.

  Shawn sprung up off of Jye. Jesse and those that bet on Shawn shouted in victory.

  Leaning down, Shawn offered Jye a hand up. "Jye, you okay?" He asked, worried.

  "Take his hand Jye!" Someone called out.

  "Its over man, take it like a man - man!"

  "Yeah motha'fucka' take it like a man! All you lost was the match, I lost 20 goddamn dollars on yo'ass! Hey man - lemme get that 20 back off you man! Tha's my ol'lady money man, I was supposed to be picking up some shit from the sto' - come on man, gimme that back. I pay up next week when I get my check for my back bein' out."

  "Jye? You okay?" Shawn asked again.

  Jye had turned over and was sitting up. He looked up at Shawn. "Move motha'fucka', I can get up, shit!" He was trying to play it off, but his heart was racing like mad. He took a couple of deep breaths and hustled to his feet. "Only reason you won ..... cause ..... I smoke and shit! ..... los' my breath." He gasped between the claim.

  Those that heard started laughing, "Fuck ya'll! It is cause I smoke! And he younger than me! Motha'fucka' a pro-wrestler and shit! Hustlin' bastard! You did some judo shit on me too didn't yo' white ass! I ain't fooled!" Jye fussed, making excuses.

  Shawn smiled, "What's my name Jye?"

  Jye stopped and looked at him. Everyone went silent to hear it.

  Shawn walked up, arms spread, leaning in for his French greeting. "Come on Jye, I gotcha' back now man. Right? I gotcha' back." Shawn stared him in the eyes, even though he had a headache, his face was throbbing, his nose was on fire, his eyes puffy, but this, he wanted, any pain was well worth it. "I wanna be here Jye. I wanna belong. I want you to like me; I ain't so bad Jye, once you get to know me. Please? Am I worthy, or not?" Shawn asked, pleading with is eyes. They filled with tears because he was hurting, inside and out. He never wanted anything so much, as to belong to them. His mother had spoken as long as he could remember, about the injustice of black people. Shawn knew what injustice felt like. So he felt a kinship with them. He knew what it felt like, to be ridden day in, and day out - no matter how you put forth your best, it was still never good enough. Pressed and told what your place was, and from that, you were not to stray. How many times, had his father told him, his primary function, was to care for his siblings. There had been times when growing up, that his father made him feel, as if he didn't belong. As if, he was doing him a favor and in return, that he must work hard and build up around their home, that he must bodyguard his siblings, and that he must not bring shame to his family. It wasn't until he'd almost died at the man-made pond, that his father changed. For the first time, showed that he actually cared about him. By then, Shawn was already on his way to being full up with it all. Life was short. Yet, a life strife with hell, was long and punishing. He ran to live the short life. And because it was short, he wanted to do all the things he felt important to do. He decided, he would do that, with people he had the most kinship with. With people, whom his mother loved.

  "Jye?" Shawn called out to him again, refusing to let it go.

  Jye couldn't reject someone that looked at him the way Shawn was looking at him, straight in the eyes, humble and pleading. He just couldn't.

  "Damn! I'ain't kissing yo'ass! I'm telling you that shit right now!"

  Everyone laughed, "Kiss'im Jye!" Someone teased. "Gone give white boy some suggah!" They were laughing, some puckering up, making kissing, smacking lips noises.

  "Fuck ya'll - I ain't kissin' him! We'll just touch cheeks and shit! I'm tellin' you now white boy, don't put yo' lips on me! And I ain't doin' that shit every time I see you either! Just this once! Only 'cause white boy, yous a strong little motha'fucka'! That ain't no goddamn lie! I'ah gi'ya that shit! Yo'ass got me! Only 'cause, I ain't no wrestler an' shit! If we'd really been fightin', I'da kicked yo' ass - know that don'cha?"

  "Jye, cease selling them woof tickets, and lay it on me baby." Shawn taunted him back, patiently waiting, tapping his cheek, making everyone laugh out. Jesse laughed so hard, he
was running in place, slapping hands, saying, "That's my boy! Okay? Shit! Where my money goddammit?!"

  Jye made the ugliest face, as if someone was forcing him to kiss elephant droppings or something close to it. He grabbed Shawn, and did it quick to get it over with. Wasn't long after that, the crowd dispersed, thinning out now that the action was over. Some walked over shaking Shawn's hand, high five, fist to fist, black shake. "You ah'ight white boy! You straight!" Then someone asked, "What's his name Jye?"

  "What's my name Jye?" Shawn asked with a smile.

  "What's yo'name? White ass..." Jye returned resentfully, but he had to face up to things, finally he smiled, then laughed shaking his head, "Grab yo' shit boy! 'Cause ain't nobody ever take me down, that's fo'damn sho'. I know 'bout yo'ass from Jesse, Chocolate-Vanilla swirl! Yeah, I know. Big dick white boy and balls to match'em! When you got balls yo' size boy, ain't but one name fit for you, Moby Dick!"

  Shawn cheesed.

  Jesse rocked back laughing even more, "Damn right! Moby-Dick! Hell yeah! Hell yeah!" He agreed, slapping Shawn's back.

  "So grab yo'shit Moby-D! 'Cause you ass is in the howse!" Jye declared.

  Back to the present...

  Even though Shawn remembered it like it was yesterday, it wasn't. As much as he wanted to remain there, he couldn't. He needed to come home. And so had, never knowing what awaited him. He remembered the fear of it. Friends that he'd accumulated being in association with Merriam Styles, stuck to him and assisted in the move from LA to there. He thought once the noise cleared and all went about their way, with him taking the stewardess home, that he would have a period to himself. Time to prepare for returning to the family fold, when he'd laid eyes on the one most precious thing he'd ever discovered. Finally, a person that his whole life seemed to be leading him to, the one that made the return home, more than worth it, his reward for coming back, was Sylvia Lucinda Martin. He was certain that she'd moved right where she should be, to await his arrival. He wondered if the moment he saw her, he'd known all along? He wondered if, he loved her right away? The moment she turned her nose up at him? He figured it could be no other way, because everything in his body, was driven by her smile, her laughter, her tears, her fears. All that his father had put him through and taught him, all that he'd gathered L.A. - it was all to prepare him for her. To wrap his soul around her, love her, protect her, and if need be, yeah - die for her.