Chapter 12: The Garden Of Everything
~Kenny~
The lights were blinding.
Why were they so bright?
There were sweaty guys around us, watching me. Watching him, making bets and wagers. We were only there for their amusement…and a large cut of the money if we win.
He swings at me; I dodge, and punch back. Hit. Blood gushes from his nose. He grunts. I punch again; he dodges and knees me in the stomach. I fall down. I taste blood in my mouth.
"Common Immorty! Let's go!" Clyde calls from the crowd.
Immorty: short for Immortal. A bad alias I had when I went to these fights. Yes, underground fights. I don't know how many I've been in exactly, but I remember when I got involved for the first time.
It was Clyde, Craig and Cartman who ended up dragging me along one day.
"Common dude! It's wicked sick!"
The days began to melt together, and eventually I stopped watching fights, and ended up being a part of them. It consists of people like me, and rich investors. Underground associations, gangs, and big shots. They throw a lot of money around at these things, and 5 or 6 grand is nothing to sneeze at. After I landed my job at the garage, I stopped for awhile, but now I'm back more than ever.
~Flashback~
"Son, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Karrie and I sat in the Hell's Pass Hospital's waiting room. Mom was getting a checkup again; she's always getting sick, which is why she couldn't work. I had no problem supporting her and Karrie. Kevin and my dad however, they were on their fucking own. I patted Karrie's head and followed the doctor into his office. He sat down at his desk and folded his hands.
"Take a seat son." I obeyed.
"Kenneth, was it?"
"Kenny, actually."
"Right. Kenny, how old are you?"
"17."
"You're almost an adult."
"I guess."
The doctor took off the wireframe glasses he was wearing and set them down.
"Where's your father Kenny?"
"My parents are in the middle of a separation sir."
"You seem very smart." I shrugged; I didn't think so.
"Kenny, have you ever heard of Common Variable Immune Deficiency?"
"No."
"It is a disorder characterized by low levels of serum immunoglobulins (antibodies) and an increased susceptibility to infections, you see. The degree and type of deficiency of serum immunoglobulins, and the clinical course, varies from patient to patient, hence, the word "variable." In some patients, there is a decrease in both IgG and IgA; in others, all three major types (IgG, IgA and IgM) of immunoglobulins may be decreased."
"Okay, does mom have that?"
"Unfortunately. I know you're still a minor, but your mother insists you have power of attorney and finances over her."
"I will in a few weeks."
"Do you have health insurance?"
"No. Is there treatment for this?"
"Yes, but it's not cheap son."
"How much?"
"Maybe we can get some kind of-"
"How much, doctor?"
"About $15,000 for the first six months."
"I can pay for it."
"Son, do you realize how much money-"
"Stop calling me 'son'! And I said I can pay for it!"
"How can you possibly \come up with that kind of money!"
"I just can! How long until I have to pay for it?"
"Six months from when she starts. For the full year it will have doubled to $30,000."
"I'll take care of it."
"Her chances…" I walked out of the room and slammed the door behind me. I couldn't listen anymore. $30,000. That's way too much money. That's almost my entire yearly income, if I was doing the math right. That might not have been a big deal…if it wasn't our only source of money.
When I stepped out of the office, I borrowed some paper and a calculator from the secretary and did out the math. I could pay it off this year, but it would leave us ten months without any income. We couldn't survive on that. Maybe some kind of payment plan…they have those, right?
I dropped the paper and put my head in m y hands. I was 17, I couldn't do this on my own… Something touched my knee.
I looked over to see Karrie holding the paper I was scribbling on. She was 12, but she wasn't stupid.
"Is momma gonna die?" I stared at her, looking startled, I know I know I did. Then I smiled and patted her head.
"Of course not. There's no way I'd let my little sis grow up without her mom. Don't worry; I'll take care of everything." She smiled her little shy smile. The problem was, I didn't know if I was telling the truth, or lying through my teeth.
~Flashback over~
So that's where I was left; desperate for cash and desperate for a way to get it. I punch the guy again, this time when he falls, he doesn't get back up. Win for me. Win for Immorty…yeah…
A man raised my bleeding fist to show my victory. Cheers, applauses. They're happy, or maybe too drunk to be anything but. I watch my opponent lay on the floor, forgotten by everyone except his team. Jeremy was his name.
I wonder if any of these jerk offs would actually care what happens to us fighters.
No one's concerned about Immorty, because Immorty always comes back.
I always come back.
