Uppercut

by Terra Kelly

  “Arms. Arms. Arms,” Julian was screaming.

  I moved my arms in between hers and pushed them out.

  “Now fall to the side. Fall,” Julian yelled.

  With the sounds of the arena and the adrenaline rush, it was not easy to hear what Julian was saying. I had to reach down deep and keep myself focused. When Julian yelled, it felt like my dad was standing next to him telling him what to say.

  Right as I had control of her arms and planned to fall to the mat, the bell rang for the end of the third round. I sighed and it took me a second to catch my breath. When we stood up, we tapped fists before going to our corners.

  There was blood running down my cheek. “I got it,” Brooks said, wiping my face with a towel. “You need to get control of this round to keep it tied.”

  “I know.” I took a drink of water between breaths.

  Charlie had two bags full of ice, one on my back and one on my chest. “Can you concentrate with Julian barking at you?”

  “Yeah, it’s helping oddly enough.” I smiled and glanced over at Julian. He was talking to Chuck. “Fuck.”

  Brooks moved my face in front of him. “Focus on what is happening now. You know what you need to do.” He rubbed some Vaseline on the cut just above my left eye. “You haven’t been kicking. Why?”

  “I don’t know.” I pressed the back of my hand to my temple where the throbbing was taking up space.

  “Leave it,” he said, grabbing my hand. “You need to figure it out and soon.” He stepped aside to let me stand up.

  The bell rang, and I stepped forward to tap Cheyanne’s fist. Then she surprised me by throwing a high kick, but I ducked just in time.

  “Your turn,” Julian yelled. “You can do better than that shit.”

  We bounced around for several minutes. I attempted to throw a few punches but never made serious contact. The cut above my eye was pissing me off and would not stop bleeding. I did the stupid move and wiped my hand across my forehead, which smeared the blood into the corner of my eye. There was still one more round after this, and I was starting to show signs of weakness. I had to find it in me to get this done.

  Without warning, Cheyanne leaped forward and threw out a left hook that landed squarely on my jaw. I heard a crack and stumbled back as the pain shot through my body. The fence may have stopped my fall, but Cheyanne never hesitated and jumped forward to pounce on me. I brought my arms up to keep her away from my face. I had a feeling my jaw was broken, but I didn’t have time to think about that right now. Something ignited from deep inside me, and I pushed her away, ignoring the pain. She yelled a few words and tried to throw another high kick. The moment she was in mid-spin for the kick, I was careful with how I grabbed her leg and held it with one arm. When she reached forward, I wrapped my arm around her neck, letting go of her leg. We both twisted and turned as she struggled to get out of the hold. As her back was against me, I tightened my grip around her neck with both my arms, and within seconds, I saw her tap her hand twice. I had just completed the perfect rear naked choke.

  When the referee reached in to pull her away from my body, I fell to the mat.

  Brooks sat down beside me. “You did it, Lily. You fucking did it.”

  “Did I?” I whispered. The moment I spoke, the pain intensified around my jaw.

  He helped me up and pointed to the on-sight doctor. “Grab her a shirt, Charlie.” He helped me over to the little wooden stool and bent down in front of me. “That was crazy.”

  The doctor moved Brooks to the side and looked over my injuries for several minutes. He asked a few questions, but I could only nod yes or no. Then I was whisked to the center of the octagon where they would announce the winner.

  The referee held both our hands. My body shook from excitement. I was still on an adrenaline rush and knew the moment I came down, the pain in my body was going to be insane. As the referee lifted my arm up and announced the new Bantamweight champion, the sounds in the arena were deafening. I found Chuck standing at the entrance to the octagon with a smile plastered on his face. How did he know this would happen? Was Julian right and the man was psychic?

  Chuck Anders held up the belt and walked over. “I knew you were a winner, Lily.”

  With my teeth clenched to avoid the pain when talking, I carefully said, “How?”

  His words caught me off guard. “Your dad taught you well.” Then he placed the belt around my waist.

  Cheyanne wrapped her arm around my neck, and we touched foreheads. “You good?”

  “Yeah, you?” I said, almost inaudible.

  “Yup. Good fight.” We bumped fists and she walked away.

  Julian wrapped his arms around my waist. “Let’s get you to the hospital, Little Punisher.”

  I turned to face him and wished I could talk at the moment. Maybe it was good thing I couldn’t because I really didn’t know what to say. Well, except did I really fight like my dad?

  Was I really the Little Punisher?

  One thing I did know, I was a fucking Bantamweight Champion.

  35

  Six weeks later…

  “How’s that feel?” the doctor asked, removing the last of the wire that held my jaw shut for six long weeks.

  “Can I open and close like normal?” I rubbed my jaw. “I can talk again.” Holding my arms up, I cheered for talking and eating like a normal person.

  “Oh lovely, I better go buy some ear plugs,” Charlie teased from the corner of the room.

  I held my middle finger up. “You know you missed my Chatty Cathy ways.” The six weeks felt like six years. Cheyanne had done a good job when she’d kicked me, because I was right; I did fracture the left side of my jaw. “Please don’t make me look at mashed potatoes ever again.”

  The doctor finished his examination and moved his chair back. “Open your mouth wide but carefully. Now close it slowly. How do you feel? Not about mashed potatoes, but is your jaw feeling weak? Any sharp pains?”

  “No, I feel great.”

  “Okay, if you have any problems just call the office.” The doctor stood and walked over to open the door. “Try to avoid those high kicks.” He winked as Charlie and I walked past him.

  “So, what should we eat first?” Charlie rubbed her hands together.

  “Pizza. No, triple layer chocolate cake.” I drooled just thinking about them.

  She patted my back. “Let’s get both. I have a feeling you could eat a rat on a stick.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Ms. Waters,” the woman at the receptionist desk said, standing up.

  “Oh, did I owe you some money?”

  “No,” she said, smiling. “My son was at your last fight. Is it possible to get an autograph for him?”

  After six weeks of stepping foot in this office, it was the first time I had seen this woman. “Um, sure.” I grabbed a pen. “What’s your son’s name?”

  “Jack.”

  I wrote a quick note and signed my name. This time was different when I passed the autograph back to the woman. I was now a champion and had to look at my fans differently. Fans. Did I really have them?

  “Tell him thank you for the support.”

  This new life I was given felt weird still.

  I was so thankful for Chuck Anders believing in me.

  “Think that bite is big enough?” Julian poked my side as I stuffed what probably looked like half the slice of pizza in my mouth. I could only mumble my acceptance.

  Charlie and I met Brooks and Julian at New York-New York Hotel and Casino for lunch. I knew there were other places to get pizza, but I loved good ol’ New York style. We were sitting at one of the outside cafes when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  Turning around, I found Candace behind me. “Hey, you,” I said, standing up and giving her a big hug. “Hungry?”

  “You better eat some quick before Lily stuffs the rest of it into her pie hole.” Charlie stifled a laugh.

  “You judge until you walk in my shoes.”
r />   Candace laughed. “So the broken jaw was no picnic, eh?”

  “If I have to look at another bowl of broth or fucking pile of mashed potatoes, I will sucker punch someone.”

  “Only pizza love over here.” Candace put her arms up in surrender.

  “I can deal with that.” I pointed to an empty chair. “Join us.” Then I moved closer to Julian to give her room. “So what are you doing over here?”

  “Oh, you know, work fun,” she said, reaching for a slice of pizza. “I have been meaning to call you, though.”

  “Yeah, about what?”

  “Chuck mentioned the memorial fund you want to create.”

  “Oh, yeah. Charlie is doing most of the backend work at the moment.”

  “Well, I would love to write a special piece on The Punisher and the rising star also known as Little Punisher.”

  I didn’t know where to begin. This very thought had been running around in my mind for several weeks. Chuck Anders told me the day I signed the contract with AFC I would win the championship. How he knew still baffled me. He then told me the next big moment would be the big reveal, my dad. Then he ensured everything else would fall into place perfectly.

  My mind was still wrapped around the thought of fans flipping out because The Punisher was my dad. Then the thought of my mom linked to my dad would create an uproar. When I sat down and let all those worries muddle around in my mind, I knew I was probably over reacting.

  I did love when my close friends called me Little Punisher.

  Candace touched my arm. “You built this career on your own, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then giving fans more of who you are could only help you.”

  “Or break me.” I sighed.

  “Nope, it won’t. I have been doing this long enough.”

  I did want the secrets out in the open. When I won the title, I thought about my dad and saying thank you during the post-interview. I sat up and slammed my fist down on the table. “Okay, let’s fucking do this.”

  “Really?” Candace said, sounding surprised.

  “You better run and start the article before I change my mind,” I said, reaching for another piece of pizza.

  “I will call you tomorrow.”

  My mouth was full, so I nodded.

  I really hoped I didn’t make a career ending decision.

  “Look,” Julian handed me his tablet. “Your article is on the front page.”

  I sat down beside him at the kitchen island and started to read.

  Before mixed martial arts became a sport, men and women were in the back alleys of every major city fighting for money. What we know now as MMA really didn’t come to light as a true sport until the early nineties.

  Johnny “The Punisher” Adams started his career on the streets and found a way to finally carry his gift of fighting over into an octagon. But that would take several years and many broken bones before he would even get noticed by the owner of the AFC.

  The Punisher had a special style of fighting all his own. It’s like reading your favorite author, and you know exactly what kind of story they will deliver. Or enjoying scenic photos that have a style unique to the one specific photographer. When you watched Johnny in the octagon you got excited and hoped he would do his classic kick. Then the moment he lifted his leg, you stood up in anticipation for what would happen next.

  The punisher lived up to his name because he never backed down, never gave up, and didn’t care if he had a broken bone.

  Why are we reminiscing over the late great Johnny Adams?

  Well, we have a surprise for all the mixed martial arts fans out there.

  Johnny’s style and grace rubbed off onto someone very special.

  This woman we are about to discuss was encouraged to change her name and build her career on her own. Think about that for a moment. You have to do what The Punisher did so long ago all by yourself. That’s terrifying, right?

  Or is it?

  Lily Waters didn’t think so. Nope, she followed in her father’s footsteps and carried on his legacy silently.

  Let’s break the silence.

  Don’t you think it’s time for her to come out of the shadows and share the stage with her father?

  Before you get upset and think she was lying to you. Let’s get one thing straight: her father drove her to the social security office and helped her fill out the paperwork to change her name. Her father encouraged her to be who she wanted to be without The Punisher helping along the way.

  I wiped a tear that escaped. “Shit, she did a beautiful job.” Resting my head on Julian’s shoulder, I read the rest of the article.

  Lily Waters doesn’t plan to change her name back to Adams. Her dad wanted her to be Lily Waters, and that is the way it will stay.

  What we can do? Give her a nickname. A well-deserving one, too.

  Lily “Little Punisher” Waters fought her first fight with AFC six weeks ago. She fought with a broken jaw and managed to take down her opponent with the rear naked choke. Stealing the Bantamweight championship belt from Cheyanne Johnson, breaking her four-fight winning streak.

  Little Punisher is living up to her father’s legacy. This was Lily’s first fight with AFC, but it won’t be her last. She signed on the dotted line, and you get to enjoy her for the next five years.

  I talked to the owner of AFC, Chuck Anders. He said he knew Lily was a winner and looks forward to working with her for many years. He also told me that it’s nice to see The Punisher legacy live on in such an amazing fighter.

  “Holy shit.” I reached for a tissue to blow my nose.

  “It’s out there. You ready for the attention?” Julian pulled me onto his lap and kissed my temple.

  “I am,” I said, looking up at Julian. “Let’s do a really special ceremony for the memorial fund.” I jumped off his lap. “Chuck and Candace want to be included, which means they will probably donate. I should find five fighters to help and have them at the ceremony.”

  “Fight It Out will donate, too.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and started to kiss him all over his head. “I love you.”

  He grabbed me around my waist and picked me up off the ground. “We forgot to make the bed.”

  “Oh no, we better go fix that.”

  Right as Julian placed his first foot on the stairs, my phone buzzed. Jumping down, I reached into my back pocket and answered it quickly.

  “Lily,” Candace said. “Have you been watching TV or reading anything on social media?”

  “No,” I said, mouthing who it was to Julian. “What’s up?”

  “Turn on the news.”

  I ran into the living room only a few feet away and searched around for the damn remote. It was wedged in between two couch cushions. I waited for the TV to start up and then turned to a local station. “A soap opera’s on.”

  “No, national news not local.”

  Her words caught me off guard. “National?” Then I went to the main news channel and was stunned. A montage of photos were fading in and out on the screen. They were all of me. Some of me fighting and some when I was in San Francisco at my gym training.

  “Candace,” I said in a hushed tone.

  “I know,” she said, laughing. “Get on social media. There was a hashtag created just for you, #littlepunisherwins.”

  Julian reached for the remote and flipped around to some of the other news outlets. The same headline was on each station. Lily “Little Punisher” Waters lives up to her father’s legacy.

  I let my body fall to the couch just as a picture of Dad faded in and stayed on the screen for a few seconds. I looked up at the ceiling and thought, We did it, Dad.

  36

  “Thank you, Chuck,” I said, handing him a folder. “All the details about the memorial fund are in there. Charlie spent way too much time or maybe the perfect amount of time on all the details.”

  “Did you already pick the five fighters to sponsor?”
>
  “We have and will be announcing the names tomorrow night at a special live event.”

  “Remind me of the location. I’ll be there with bells on.”

  I had spent the last two weeks working on the memorial fund that was set up in my dad’s name. Charlie created a website, social pages, and had already managed to build a following. We did have The Punisher’s name flashed everywhere, so it made sense it was drawing attention.

  “It’s at the MGM. In the evening at seven but doors open at six.”

  “I plan to bring my family.”

  “Thank you again for everything and for believing in me.”

  I waved goodbye and quickly left. Charlie was waiting for me at Julian’s house to finish getting everything in order.

  As I stepped through the door, there was screaming coming from the kitchen. It was Charlie screaming, but I couldn’t hear who was on the receiving end. Peeking my head around the doorframe, I saw my friend pacing the kitchen and looked as red as a tomato.

  “Fuck you,” she screamed and threw her phone on the floor. I watched as it shattered into several pieces.

  “Um, hi,” I said cautiously. She turned on her heel and went into a dead run throwing her arms around me. “Who was that?”

  “Dad,” she said, engulfing me into a big bear hug.

  It’s funny, for most people they would say, elaborate. For me, I just pulled her in tighter because her dad was an asshole with a capital A.

  “Why were you talking to him, and how did he get your phone number?” Two very important questions since they had not talked in years.

  “Oh, you know Dad; he has his sources.”

  I pulled her over to the table to sit down and went to grab a glass of water. “But why now?”

  “He heard about you.”

  The glass of water almost dropped out of my hands. I caught it right before it slipped free. “Money?”

  “You know it. Dad wanted to see if I had signed with AFC yet.”