Ch 12
Same day as the last two chapters, wait.. three chapters? Yeah same day as her Sodapop, into Bob then around town with the boys. What a long day for Catalina.
It was clear that Dallas had never needed to teach anyone anything. Fighting was a refined skill of his, yet 15 minutes into showing me basics he was already getting a sharp tone in his voice.
"When I say protect your face and neck I don't mean put your arms up and hide behind them." He pinched the bridge of his nose, making it even clearer that he was losing patience quickly.
He tried again, getting into a boxing position, hoping to get through the basics of punch for punch fighting so that he could eventually teach me to combine it with wrestling, kicking and dirty tactics. I matched his position the best I could and tried to throw a punch his way, both of us using little to no strength since harm was not intended. For a few hits I would do well, blocking with my arm and retaliating, but once things moved faster than a snails pace I would panic and fall behind. When met with the pressure to act quickly and confidently I couldn't keep up, so instead of trying to fight my arms would come up and cover my face like a shield, making my view of oncoming attacks lousy and my counter-attacks non-existent.
Getting irritated once again, Dallas stepped forward and lightly grabbed my wrists and tossed them down towards my sides, "Do you wanna fight or freeze up and get your ass kicked?"
"Neither." It was an easy answer. The only other time in my life that I had wanted to know how to fight was in 3rd grade when a boy stole my notebook and wouldn't give it back. And even then I mostly just wished I was stronger instead of skilled in fighting.
This seemed to strike a nerve in him, "Shit doesn't work like that, princess." His tone was getting angrier as he practically spat the words at me. He stepped away a few feet, lighting a leftover short from his last smoke, taking a break from being a teacher.
The sinking feeling of bitterness swirled in me, I felt embarrassed once again by my weakness and spiteful about the fact that he made me feel inferior for not being able to fight. It wasn't fair to act like everyone should be able to hold their own in battle when I had never needed to before.
"Ass" I glared at the ground, trying not to feel hurt by the feeling of not belonging with the people who I had started calling friends.
"What'd you say?"
I looked up and in a blink looked down again, not wanting to see his angry expression.
In a few quick steps he was in front of me, "Hey, you're not gonna to talk to me that way, got it?" I looked up at his face but didn't meet his eyes. I stayed silent, face getting hotter in angry embarrassment under the Tulsa sun. My eyes met the ground again, arms crossing over my chest as I wanted to shrink away from the situation instead of face it.
"Hey" he tried again to get my acknowledgment, this time he leaned down towards my face, dipping low so that he could look up at my eyes even as I had my head turned down towards the ground. I turned my eyes and head another way, trying to ignore him.
My nostrils flared as a deep breath of cigarette smoke was intentionally blown into my face. Immediately my head snapped up and my burning gaze met his. I glared at him even as tears built up in my eyes, a hard blink away from falling.
"Ass" I repeated louder before smacking him, knocking the near-finished cig from his smug mouth. Before I could process what was happening, Dally had me on the ground with his right knee holding down my left arm and one tightly clenched hand wrapped around my right. Although contact with the dirt was gentle, as if he made sure not to drop me carelessly, my wrists were stinging from the weight. His free hand was in front of my face, pointing at me as if he was about to start a "look here" rant.
I'm not sure if Two-bits voice calling his name or the look on my face softened his gaze, but either way I was grateful. It should have been easy to glare at him, in part for his intentionally hurtful words and action, and out of lingering anger towards his authoritative tone. But instead of a hateful stare to match my soiled mood, my lip quivered and my glare faltered as frustrated tears rolled down my face.
Two's voice cut in again as he slowly stepped closer, causing Dally to lightly snap in his direction, "I'm not going to hurt her" he spoke as if it was obvious, as if he wasn't in a threatening position. Two-bit took a step backwards but didn't sit down again, waiting to make sure he wouldn't need to defend his new friend from his old one.
Dally climbed off of me and sat at my feet, resting one arm on his bent knee and the other lazily in the lap of his stretched out leg. I sat up, avoiding his un-breaking gaze as I wiped the wetness from my face. The bustling noise that usually followed the greaser boys everywhere was stilled, making me painfully aware of the uneven shuddering of my exhales. I could feel three pairs of eyes on me, waiting for me to gather myself. Every second of silence made the situation feel increasingly tense. Hearing Dally's voice cut in, void of any hostility, almost startled me.
"Hell of an arm, Red."
I blinked slowly, still staring at the ground, processing what he said. The boys sat quietly, waiting for a response, as if watching a bomb tick down, waiting anxiously to see if the correct wire was cut to defuse it. In spite of my desire to stay angry, and the sting that remained in my chest, I couldn't stop my mouth from turning upward into a half smile.
"Throw me to the ground again and next time I'll hit lower." I threatened, my tone of voice reflecting the knowledge that I wouldn't stand a chance if he intended to hurt me.
More surprising than the escalation of the fight was the sound of Dallas' laughter, chorused by Ben's' and Two-bits. My half hearted smile broke into a grin at the sound. It was almost a prideful moment: to make the most feared guy in town laugh as if he didn't have a care.
Seeing the situation settle down, Two-bit's shoulders dropped, his posture returning to a state of relaxation as he looked at Ben, "Let's show her how it's supposed to look."
"I'll try not to knock you down too fast," Ben challenged, getting into a boxers stance.
Two-bit hopped around, grinning as he threw fake punches, hoping to mislead Ben's attention. Instead of falling for the games, Ben watched carefully and in the blink of an eye connected his fist with Two-bit's face, effectively sending him to the ground.
Ben gestured to his fallen friend, "You see Doll, when you throw a punch you want to put your weight into it, really give'em all you got."
I scoffed, "yeah my 130 pounds is really going to do a number on a tall, 200 pound attacker."
"He's wrong anyway, putting your weight into it is good for a few wild hits, especially if you're small, but in a fight that you cant get away from it's no good. Can throw you off balance and leave you open for retaliation if you miss, when you hit it should be mostly arm." Dallas corrected, leaning back onto his elbows, sprawling out to watch his friends hit each other.
"Again, doesn't sound too likely that it'll work for me." Even though I knew it wasn't impossible, it felt that way when starting from nothing.
"That attitude won't work for you, Red." I pursed my lips, knowing he was right. Part of fighting was expelling the fear of getting hurt, and deciding that I lost before even starting a fight would be a sure way to make it a reality.
Two-Bit pushed back up onto his feet, jogging in place and rolling his head like he was shaking off the pain, "There's knowin' your limits, an then there's limiting yourself."
I nodded, "Alright, so what are good starting tactics for fighting against a larger opponent if punch for punch isn't a good idea?"
"Try to tire them out, do a lot of dodging so they're working hard swinging. It takes awhile to wait through their stamina, but if they get sluggish it'll be easier for you to hit. And then, make the punches you do land, count." Ben suggested, reminding me of the night at the bar.
"Throat, gut, eyes?" I recalled, making sure I got all the possible points memorized.
"Knees too," Dallas added before Two-Bit took over the train of thought, "Yeah, bigger guys, and lotsa fighters really, don't think about their footwork or guarding their knees, they just think about punching and blocking punches."
Ben finished the lesson, "And of course, where the sun don't shine. That's dirty fighting but if some monsters coming at a cute thing like you then they deserve it."
My lips tightened thinly at the use of the term 'thing', knowing that guys who described girls that way were more likely to be the ones needing a kick in the rear. I didn't dwell on it though, if I corrected every insulting or womanizing term I heard each day in this town I wouldn't have any time left for anything else. Instead I brought up my next fear, "what if they have a knife?" Right as I spoke the words the mental image of being in such a situation filled me with anxiety.
"Scream, run, give them what they want. Maybe even kick them and run, might get cut but wont be as bad as getting stabbed or your arm slashed while trying to hit them or push them." Two-bit answered, the tone of his voice suggesting that I would be out of luck if there was no where to run.
The look of complete dread must have been clear, immediately after I felt my stomach and face drop Dallas chimed in with what seemed to be an attempt at comfort, "when you're able to get me to the ground, I'll show you knife defense."
Smirking to myself, I imagined playfully throwing my body at him as he lounged there with lowered defenses and making a smart-mouthed comment about him losing his edge. I decided against carrying out the act, the weight of the day setting in. The physical effort of moving around in the heat all day was exhausting in itself, let alone the ups and downs emotionally.
I kept my eyes on the two boys as they went from demonstrating to horsing around while my mind wandered off, thinking mostly of how tired I was. The summer days felt so long, it was hard to believe that this afternoon I was throwing eggs around the Curtis kitchen. It was miles away at this point.
As the pinks of the sunset started taking over the sky it was easy to slip into a peaceful, asleep-on-your-feet haze. Giving up on sitting, I laid on my back, limbs sprawled out like a star. My body melted into the grass, my muscles feeling impossible to lift again after being overused. The sweat of the day was now cooling, trapping dirt on my skin like a second layer, making my body feel even heavier. It was a sharp contrast to the other day, twirling around in dresses at the mall with Sherri, leaving with the scent of perfume samples clinging to my hair. Somehow, this felt more satisfying.
