Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider

by Julie Dewey

  I watched a few fights while hiding behind crates in the Brewery. I spent my days off the streets hiding to avoid trouble but now it seemed trouble had found me.

  “What do we have here?” A scraggly young man with three earrings and long strands of greasy hair grabbed me by the back of my shirt lifting me up off my feet.

  “He asked who you were,” a second punk with very few teeth hacked a blood tinged loogie right at my feet.

  “I’m Scotty.” I tried to make a run for it, but the second gangster caught me.

  “Well Scotty, what are you are doing here? You spying on us for them Dead Rabbits?” The guy pushed me and was egged on by his mate.

  “You better hope you ain’t, kid….” The second man spit again.

  “Nnno, I just didn’t have anywhere to go.” I stammered as I spoke.

  The boys looked me over; witnessing my state of poverty they took me to “Pauli” who would know what to do with me.

  Pauli was well dressed and slightly older than the men who found me; he had all his teeth intact and I guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties. Around his neck lay a thick gold chain and down his forearms were the words Roach Guards tattooed in black ink.

  “What’s your story, kid?” Pauli looked at me with amused eyes.

  “I got no story,” I told him, looking down at my worn shoes, feeling lucky to have any at all.

  “Where do you work, kid, you gotta eat right? So where do you earn your money?”

  “I sell the newspaper on Sunday morning and steal the rest.” I was scanning the exits for an easy escape as I spoke.

  “So what are you doing here in this old place, huh? This is our territory, you spying on us? Who are you working for?” Pauli spun the pistol that sat on his desk and when it stopped the barrel of the gun was pointing right at me. His tattoo appeared to be getting bigger as he flexed his muscles in anger, spittle ran down his chin but he didn’t notice or care.

  “I don’t work for no one, sir. I told you, I sell papers and hide out, that’s all I do.” Besides watch you guys abuse and torture animals all day I thought to myself.

  “Well, there, Scotty, you put me in a bad situation. If I believe you and let you go, you could go back to where you came from and report all you seen. On the other hand you could prove useful, how long you been hiding here?”

  “I’ve been here a few weeks I suppose, but I haven’t seen anything, I swear.” This wasn’t entirely true.

  “So you been here for two weeks and we haven’t noticed you until now?” Pauli rubbed his whiskers, noticing the spittle and wiping it on his pants.

  “Here’s my proposition. I am going to believe you; you’re too stupid to lie because you know if you lie to us we have to punish you, right?” Pauli shuffled the papers in front of him and stacked them neatly in the corner of the desk.

  I hated being threatened.

  “Right,” I said, answering his taunt honestly.

  “You’re going to work for me now. You’re gonna spy on the Dead Rabbits and tell us who they got over there training to fight. See I need to know who to put up against them, gotta know who to get ready, who to feed, and who to keep hungry.”

  Pauli laid out a plan for me starting with quitting my paper sales job. I was to report to him every afternoon and in return he would give me dinner. If I didn’t show up, they would come after me. I had to find the Dead Rabbits hide out and then weasel my way in.

  The first day I didn’t find anything, I checked the paper warehouse, the mill, and the grocer’s warehouse but found nothing and no one of interest. I was terrified to report back to Pauli without any news.

  “You may have to go further across town, kid; the Dead Rabbits know we inhabit this turf they wouldn’t be too close to us. Try the shoe factory, and the building on Second Street that looks like it’s collapsing.”

  Pauli gave me half his sandwich and I ate it greedily, scared to death of what I would find in the morning across town.

  First, I sauntered around the shoe factory; the back portion was closed off but I noted that for its size it could easily fit a gang of a dozen or so men training to fight. I made my way through a side entrance and snuck through the building; everything was quiet. I sat in a corner behind scraps of materials used for making shoes and waited. There was one round table in the room and cards strewn about the floor, more than likely this place was used for gambling. I waited some more. By mid-day no one had come into the factory and there was no evidence anyone had been in there to train. I decided there was enough time to check out the collapsing building Pauli told me about on Second Street.

  In this section of town only the poorest of the poor remained. The building was in ruins, partially collapsed from sewage and farm run off. Tenants of this section were riddled with disease from the unclean quarters they lived in. The smell alone could knock someone off their feet.

  I pinched my nose and entered the building, terrified it would collapse or I would catch a disease while I was inside. First, I walked the narrow perimeter hallways and neither heard nor saw anything that led me to believe the Dead Rabbits were here. But as I made my way closer to the interior of the building the smell changed. It went from one of sewage and filth to one of pungent male body odor. I followed my nose and came upon a makeshift gym. There were several squares partitioned off with rope and lying in a corner were rolls of hand tape, jump ropes, free weights, and in the far corner was a punching bag. It was held to the ceiling with a clamp and thick links of chain that I thought looked heavy enough they could bring the entire building down on itself.

  My stomach was growling but I had to stay awhile longer to see what happened in this gym.

  Several hours later a group of gangly kids were paraded into the gym and taunted by much bigger, fit looking kids. The ruffians were lined up by size and put into rows. They started warm ups with a stretching routine, then they punched into the air above their heads while doing high knees. If they let up and dropped their arms from exhaustion they were met with a swift punch to the gut. Following the initial warm up routine the kids were separated, some went to work on the boxing bag while others grabbed jump ropes, and still others met in the roped off rings with their trainers and worked on impressive combinations. I could hear the trainers yelling, uppercut, jab, right hook, left hook, and jab and began to put the movement with the words. I noted the foot placement for each punch and heard the trainers yelling that ‘proper foot placement gave your punch more power’.

  I was terrified of being found in the gym snooping. I settled myself in a corner in the rafters with a good bird’s eye view of the scene below. There were a total of fifteen scrawny kids presumably being taught to fight. They seemed to range in age anywhere from six to sixteen. There were five trainers. Each trainer worked with their own group of kids, some were better at floor work, and others excelled at head and body movement. Still other trainers excelled on the punches themselves. All together they were a formidable opponent for Pauli.

  I thought about hiding out here from now on. Pauli would never come here to find me. It would be too dangerous for the Roaches to enter this side of town. My stomach growled again and I began to feel sick with hunger, which reminded me who was feeding me tonight. As the kids finished their training, dried off with towels and left I was intrigued that the five trainers stayed behind. The five trainers got in the ring with each other and sparred. They went for two minute rounds, no head gear, no gloves, just themselves and their opponent. No one held back. They fought hard in two minutes using footwork and combinations to score points. Blood flowed freely from one fighter’s nose down his chest, causing me to gag. When the two minute bell rang the fighters shook hands and the one with the bloody nose shoved cotton up his nostrils and carried on. Two more kids got in the ring and fought and this continued until each kid had fought everyone for two minutes. Blood from smashed faces pooled on the floor, knuckles were split open and bleeding, the men were glistening with sweat but none of the fi
ghters were winded, unlike the kids earlier. These young men were in shape. They knew what they were doing and it made me fearful for my life. I shrunk further into the corner and closed my eyes, hoping if I couldn’t see them that the reverse would be true as well. After another hour or so of jumping ropes and lifting weights the five men finally left the gym area. I was reluctant to get down from this hiding spot and sneak out of the building and had no idea what time it was.

  I thought of Karen and Tommy then. I wished I could go back to them without putting them in danger of the Roaches who would look for me if and when I didn’t show up. I wondered if they were safe and feared that if Tommy was caught by these thugs and forced to fight he would surely lose. Tommy was all talk; inside he was just a fearful kid trying to get by one day at a time like the rest of us.

  I climbed down, taking my time and finding my way out of the now dark but always dank building. I made my way across town and finally found the brewery that housed the Roaches and went directly to Pauli’s office.

  “Where the hell were you? Huh, you fucking punk?” The greasy guy who helped Pauli was raving mad.

  “I asked you a question, you little shit, you better speak up.” He had crossed the room and grabbed me by my shirt collar.

  “Jesus, Squid, you’re gonna scare the shit out of the kid, let him go.” Pauli interjected.

  “I found them.” That’s all I had to say before the goons released me and were told to get me something to eat.

  After I ate, I recounted everything I saw right down to the blood stained floors.

  “Come with me kid.” Pauli led me to a section of the factory that I hadn’t been in before.

  He pushed open a large metal door and I was hit immediately by the stench of body odor and blood. I looked around and saw a gym that was similar to the one the Rabbits used to train. This gym had a punching bag and another smaller bag that I later learned was a speed bag. Several squares were taped off on the floor and free weights, jump ropes, and other equipment I didn’t recognize lay in piles.

  Fighters were in the midst of training. It was a smaller number of kids but because this gym also had five trainers the boys got more personal attention. Here they not only focused on offensive training but on defensive training, ducking the punch, bobbing and weaving, and dancing around the floor. These fighters looked lighter on their feet, although I was no expert.

  “Tell me, what do you see? What are the differences between their gym and mine?” Pauli nudged me forward.

  “I think you have more stuff, like that small bag over there, they don’t have that.” I looked around for more differences.

  “That’s called a speed bag kid. It helps develop your rhythm and give you quick hands.”

  “You have fewer rings, they have four marked off. You only have two.” I wasn’t sure if that mattered but it was a difference.

  “You also have fewer kids in training but the ones you have seem stronger. Their kids look like they’re hungry but I mean they really look starved. I swear I could count their ribs if I was close enough.”

  “Hmmm, they must have a new group fresh off the streets. They round up kids and offer them protection if they’ll fight. Then they feed them when they win and starve them when they don’t.”

  “Well I think your guys would win, if the fight was now that is.” I hesitated to tell him what I was thinking.

  “Go on kid.” Pauli encouraged me to tell more.

  “Well, they have five trainers and they are tough, they never even looked tired after sparring. I think they might be in better shape than some of your trainers.”

  Pauli looked around the room. Several of his trainers were carrying extra weight around the middle and that ended today.

  “Okay kid, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to make a list of all my guys and trainers and tomorrow you’re going back over there.”

  I flinched at the thought and Pauli saw this.

  “I only need you to spy once in a while, before a big fight. I have a lot riding on our next fight. It’s in ten weeks and we stand to either make a lot of money or lose a lot of money. Understand?”

  “What am I supposed to do over there?” I asked, fumbling with my coat button.

  “I want you to take our list and make some physical notations about each of their guys, are they lefty, do they have a strong right, how is the defense , who is quick, who is slow, who could knock us out in one punch. Got it?” he asked, waiting for my reply.

  “I think so. But how does this help you?” I wondered out loud.

  “You leave that to me, kid, once I know their strengths and weaknesses I can better prepare my team.”

  Pauli had softened a bit, he told me I did a good job and set me up with a cot and blanket in a room far away from the gambling scene.

  In the morning I woke up and pissed off the window ledge before heading to the other side of town. I took my time, checked my back to make sure no one was following me when finally the collapsing building was in view. I watched the building for activity before sneaking towards the entrance. No one was in sight; it was quiet. I snuck in and made my way through the narrow hallway until I reached the rafters. I hunkered down and waited. I waited for hours until anything happened and my stomach was already growling from hunger. I didn’t get breakfast from Pauli who was still asleep when I left and couldn’t beg any on my way over. I checked garbage cans but only found last night’s vomit and watery shit on the streets, which did not inspire my appetite.

  After too many hours several kids came into the gym. They were already sweating and it appeared they had been running. A few of them were holding their stomachs as if they had cramps and one was puking in a bucket.

  “Damn, five miles before noon. That’s harsh, man.” It was the red headed kid who puked and complained. He was scrawny, but tall, five feet, eight inches, maybe a buck ten.

  “Quit your bitching before I get you a skirt you pansy.” A short dark skinned kid who I didn’t recognize from last night whipped him with a towel.

  The group stood around waiting and finally one of last night’s trainers walked in.

  “Time to spar, fellas.” He matched the boys into pairs and had them going in two of the four rings.

  The red headed kid was lanky and his arms had a long reach. He didn’t look strong but when he punched his opponent with his left, the kid stumbled. I wrote this down.

  The kid with the darker skin was slow. He had no footwork and kept his hands up in defense exposing his body. I wrote this down too.

  The ink from the steel pen Pauli gave me tickled my nose. I stifled a sneeze but before I could stop myself I let out another one. All the fighters stopped what they were doing and looked around. I shrunk further into the corner and prayed.

  The trainer looked around the gym and gathered the boys closer to him. They all dispersed and I thought I got lucky. Then I realized the trainer sent them to investigate the sneeze. I heard footsteps climbing the rafters and pissed myself.

  “Gotcha.” The red headed boy pulled me up from my crouch and dragged me down the short set of stairs throwing me in front of his trainer.

  “Well, well. What do we have here? Search him boys.” The boys patted me down and found nothing. I was smart enough to hide my notes under a wooden slat in my hide out.

  “Who are you and what the fuck are you doing here?” The trainer asked with venom.

  “I jjjust didn’t have anywhere to go.” I hoped my prior excuse with Pauli would hold up.

  “You really expect me to believe that shit, kid? Someone’s been feeding you. My guess is you’re spying.” He wiped his brow.

  “No, I swear, I am not spying, I don’t know where to go, the gangs, they are getting bad. I found the building and snuck in, that’s all.” Before I could continue the trainer started using me as a punching bag.

  “Well as long as you’re here now, I guess we’ll just have to use you as our punching bag today.” He started on my body.

&
nbsp; Then the red headed boy stepped in and the trainer watched as he lunged at my face. I ducked several, but with his friends cheering him on he went at me hard, landing several uppercuts to my chin, and busting my lip wide open. I doubled over in pain but the boy didn’t stop. He went for my ribs and I fell to the floor in agony.

  Next up a scrawny little kid, maybe six or seven started kicking my back numerous times before stepping over my body and kicking me right in the balls making me nauseous instantly. He had absolutely no remorse and I thought if any of them did, it would be him. The rest of the boys all got their turn with me. I stood back up and tried against one or two of them. They laughed at me and my piss stain. I had no training and was not in shape. I could taste my blood and for a minute I felt vengeful and attacked with flailing arms but this only made them laugh harder at me. Next thing I knew I was in the ring with four kids bouncing me between them and then it was lights out.

  I was in and out of consciousness all night, when I finally came to I was petrified. I didn’t recognize where I was but it was inside someone’s house. I could hear snoring and the place reeked of booze. I tried to stand up but it hurt just to breathe. I was sure I had broken ribs among other things. I forced myself to sit upright and stripped the sheet off the bed, tied it around my waist for support and stood up. I wobbled.

  Out of nowhere I hear someone say, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, dipshit?”

  I must have been knocked out again because when I woke up next the five trainers were staring me down.

  They pulled me up and out of bed against my protests. I had dried blood everywhere from my mouth, to my ears, to my nose, my balls were swollen, and walking was nearly impossible.

  They dragged me back to the infamous gym that I had become familiar with yesterday and centered me amongst them.

  “Now you’re going to tell us what the fuck you’re doing here, aren’t you?” One trainer with bulging biceps stepped forward before landing a punch right to my gut, knocking the wind out of me.