"I still don't know why the fuck you got me doing this shit."
Doc Louis was in his house, on the phone, just coming back from church. He was about to crush the house phone currently locked in his vice grip.
"Man, fuck you. Think you can just get some random bum-ass mafucker one of my contracts? Must still be smoking crack," the voice on the phone told him back. Doc heard the sound of cigar smoke being blown into his ear.
"Bitch, I'm the reason your ass run boxing right now. I put 15 years in the WVBA, Donnie! 15 years! If it wasn't for me, yo ass would be making money suckin' dick in Queens right now!"
"And if it wasn't for me, yo ass would be making money sucking dick in Alabama."
"I was putting on shows for people all around the world! People put BILLIONS down to see me. You know I handle my business! I don't fuck around when it comes to getting shit done in the ring! Come on!"
"Yeah, well why you want a contract now? I guess that money done dried up, huh? The Great Doc Louis that drew BILLIONS can't even keep a shack roof over his head. Prolly ain't got two nickels to rub together. Prolly ain't got a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. Prolly holes in the ass of his last pair of jeans."
"Man I ain't come here to listen to this shit; I came to get this fight stopped. Give both of them the contracts."
"Who ya new boy, huh Doc? How many fights he win?"
"Man he's a young guy, he-"
"Eh, that's what I thought. He ain't shit. You just need some cash fast."
"Donnie, work with me here! Put this guy through! You let me work with him with for a few years, he'll be the next big thing. I promise you. I PROMISE you!"
"Nahhh, you ain't about to pull a fast one on me. That shit ain't happening."
"Man put this guy through, I'll come back to the WVBA. I'll work for free Donnie! FREE!"
"Where was all of this generosity when you shat on my name? When you tried to take me down?"
"You know everything you did you piece of shit! I ain't tell one lie! I ain't have to! But you wanna be stuck in the past? Fine. I'mma give you one last chance: push my guy. Give him the contract. You wanna let him go when he's 18? Fine. But if you give me a chance, if you give me a chance, you won't regret it. It'll be the best decision you made since you pushed Tyson. You got that?"
"You know what, Doc? You right," Donnie said. "You put in that work. You gave me a lot of good shit over the years. Let's end this. I'll give you a chance."
Doc let out a long sigh of relief. "Oh my God, thank you so much, Donnie. I'll get you up front; you will not reg-"
"I'll give you a chance to lose my number. If yo boozy ass call me again I'ma stomp yo ass out."
Click.
Doc was left in the kitchen alone, frozen. The dial tone rang in his ear.
"MAN, FUCK YOU!" Doc slammed the phone down on the floor, the device exploding on impact.
Allie jumped up, barking in alarm.
"Doc, are you alright?" Mac exclaimed, coming out of his room.
"Yeah, just lemme a damn broom. Sweep this shit up." Doc went around the house looking for the broom. "Fuck that broom at?" He opened the closet. It wasn't there. "How hard is it to keep track of a fucking broom," he muttered.
The phone started ringing again.
"Don't answer it!" Doc said as he opened the back door. "I don't want ever hear Donnie King's voice ever again! Not one more damn word!" He looked out at the back porch. "Oh, there that broom is. Left it outside again."
The phone went to the answering machine. "Jerome!" a voice shouted. "Boy, if you don't answer this phone right now I'ma drive all the way up dere to New Yaark and beat you upside the head. You better answer when yo mamma talkin' to you! I know you there, Jerome! I know you there, child. I can sense it."
"Answer that phone!" Doc said as he came rushing back in. "Not a good idea to keep my mama waiting!"
"Uhhh, hello?" Mac said nervously, answering the call.
"And who is this?"
"I'm Mac. I'm uh, Doc's student?"
"Jerome has a student? How long you been training under him? Must be serious if you answering his phone."
"A few months."
"Lemme see the phone," Doc whispered. "Momma! How you doing?" he said. "I'm sorry, I had to step away for a second."
"You didn't tell me you had a little pupil! Tell me all about him."
"I don't really know too much about him, to be honest. Mac don't really talk 'bout himself much."
"Well, you can chat with him in the car on your way down here!"
"Whatchu mean 'on your way down here'?"
"Boy, first of all, don't 'what' me! I'm yo momma, you gone talk to me with some respect. And like I was saying, come on down to Alabama! I'll cook ya'll a little something!"
"Aight, momma. But it's gonna take me a few days to get there. I'll try to be there around Friday or so."
"I know exactly how long it take to get down here. If you ain't here by Wednesday, I'll be coming after you. And you don't want that, baby, I'll tell ya that right now."
"Yes momma. I'll be there soon as I can."
"Just for trying to put me off, you better come on a plane. I'll pick you up at the airport tonight."
"Mamma you can't just expect me to hop on a plane and head down to Mobile!" Doc shouted.
"Booooy, I know you ain't raising your voice at me," Mamma said. "Now you better pack some clothes and get down here. And that boy you teaching with ya."
"Yes mama. I'll call you when we at the airport."
"Aight, baby. I'll be waiting. Love you."
"I love you too. See you later." Doc hung up the phone. "Mac, pack your stuff. We gone be out of the state the next few days."
Doc knocked on the door to Pauline's apartment. "You sure this the place, kid?" He asked.
"Yeah, Mario would take us over sometimes for board games and movies," Mac said.
Checking the peephole, Mario recognized friendly faces. He opened the door. "Yo, Mac, Doc, wassup?"
"Mario, I'm gonna have to split down for a little while to go down to see my mom. I'm taking the kid with me."
"No problem. I'll see you when you get back," Mario said.
"Well, thing is, I need someone to watch Allie for me," Doc said. "Most people in my neighborhood too old. There are a few young kids that could do it, but I think Allie just a bit too much for them. I want somebody that I can trust."
"Oh. Aight. Aight." Black stubble was forming around Mario's neck up to the chin. "Hold on one second. Hey Pauline!" Mario shouted back into the apartment. "Doc needs to keep his dog here!"
"Is the dog trained?" Pauline shouted back. "How long is he gonna be gone for?"
"Oh, she trained, had all her shots, and she ain't got no bugs on her. We gone be gone for ... boutta week."
"He say she good! And they gonna be gone for 'bout a week!" Mario said.
"Aight. She can stay!" Pauline said.
"Okay then. I'll get Allie. Just give me one second." Doc went down the steps, leaving Mario alone with Mac.
"I'll see you when you get back. Take care of yourself." Mario stretched his arms out. "Gimmie a hug, kid."
As he went in for the hug, Mac stepped on Mario's shoes.
"Ah shit man. Sorry, I messed up your ... dress shoes?"
Mario was wearing his shoes underneath sweatpants. "Ah fuck, I'm still wearing my good shoes." He looked at the scuff mark, feeling somewhat upset, but simply shrugged. "Oh well, they're just clothes. Yeah, I was at Mass today. Parents and Pauline wanted me there, so I just went along with it."
"What was the message?" Mac asked.
"It was ... ahh ... it was about..." Mario paused and looked down at the ground. Whatever it was, it was something Mario didn't want to hear. "Say, Mac, you ever think that everything happens for a reason? Like, things you do come back to get you in ways you never imagine?"
"I ... I ... I don't know, man," Mac said. "I don't know."
And that was the truth. No use talking to Mac about it. He was a 14-year-old kid. Mario shook his head. "I'm just wondering if I did something wrong. Maybe this whole plumbing thing was a mistake. Maybe ... I'm the reason Luigi got shot."
"Well, I mean, you gave me a place to stay. And there's Hiro and Kiyo, too. So, I guess it wasn't all bad, right?"
"That's right," Mario said, reflecting. "There were good times. I miss them."
"I miss them, too," Mac said. "Maybe ... things just happen. And that's just the way things are. Sorry. I don't know. I'm not good at this."
"Good enough. I feel a little better." Mario nodded. "Well. While you're gonna, I'm gonna have to deal with insurance and the Wario brothers and keeping my ass out of prison. I'll see you when you get back."
"Alright. See you later," Mac said, walking back towards the car.
Mac and Doc sat in the airport, waiting for the call for boarding. People were bustling around, moving through the airport like ants.
"Excuse me!" An Asian girl walked up to Doc, holding up a camera. "Hi. Can you take a photo of my family? My grandparents are about to go back to Japan."
"Sure thing. No problem," Doc said, standing up.
"Thank you!" The girl gave the camera to Doc, then ran back to pose with her large family.
"Anata wa Nihon no doko kara kita no desu ka?" Doc asked, setting up the camera.
The grandparents raised their eyebrows in surprise. "Nihongo o hanasu ka?"
"Watashi wa taishi to shite Nihon ni ryokō shita toki ni sono gengo o benkyō shimashita."
"Watashi oyobi watashi no tsuma wa Kyōto de kaiketsu shita."
Doc took the picture and handed back the camera. "Happy to be of service." He gave the family a bow and they bowed back.
"You speak Japanese?" Mac said as Doc sat back down.
"A little of Jap; some French, but I'm best with Spanish, needed it for when I fought all them boys in Mexico. But yeah; back in the day, we went over to Japan to do some cross-promotion. Didn't really work out. The Japanese really don't like fighting outside they own country. Especially with all the money they make in their own land. They got some pretty good guys in the small weight classes though."
"So, who were you talking to on the phone? Back at your house?" Mac asked.
Doc's expression soured. "That was Donnie King. Piece of shit."
"Donnie King? Wait, isn't he the President of the WVBA?"
"And my former agent and promoter," Doc muttered. "He also a snake. Always has been. Always will be."
"What did he do?" Mac said.
"What hasn't he done?" Doc replied. "Donnie King will do anything to get to the top, and everything to stay there. Man would take you out drinking and then give you the keys to his fancy new car so you could crash into a streetlight. He the devil's nut hair. One time, we was in New Orleans after some flooding. Donnie set up a promotional boxing match to raise money. So I and some other WVBA boys went along with him. Me and the boys there volunteered for a few hours to help as many as they could. Donnie King pulled up in a car being driven by someone else, got out, had the cameraman film them hand out about 5 meals, then got back in the car and drove away. They were there for about 5 minutes total. Supposedly he had the clip played around the country all week, talking about how it's important that we volunteer our time to help those in need and that the WBVA 'is a tool to help others promote strength and prosperity, both inside the ring and out.' Donnie King didn't go down there to lend a hand; he went down there to lend a handshake. He took a tragedy and made it a photo op. He makes me sick just saying his name. And I gotta live every day knowing I got him to where is, President. I should have listened to my momma when she told me to be careful."
"So, what's your mom like?"
"She is a great woman, always putting up with me. And when you meet her, you better treat her with some respect. That mean 'yes ma'am' and 'no'am', you understand me boy?"
"Y-Yes, Doc," Mac said, more than a little surprised and equally intimidated.
NOW BOARDING FLIGHT: 987
"Kid. That's our flight. Let's go," Doc said. "Stay close." Walking past the gate, Doc and Mac went into the economy-class section of the plane and found a pair of unoccupied seats. "You mind taking the window seat, Mac? I prefer the outside. More leg room."
Sitting down, Doc leaned back in his seat. "It takes about 4 or 5 hours to get to Mobile, so in the meantime, just sit back and wait. Think I'll take a little nap."
The plane took off.
Mac stared out the window. The big cities slowly dissolved into small towns, then into mass sprawls of forests. Free, undeveloped land.
"You gonna stare out that window the entire time, kid?"
"Sorry, I've just never been anywhere outside of the boroughs."
"Nah, go ahead. Look all you want," Doc replied. "Kid, I've been all over the world. Now let me tell you something, I know New York City seems pretty big, but there is so much more out there than that. Like, did you know there ain't no snow in the winter if you go down south enough? I used to train in Miami during winter so I wouldn't catch no cold. Let me tell you something, that warm sun mixed with that cold air know it feel good."
"So ... what happened then?"
"Whatchu mean what happened?" He opened an eye.
"How did you lose all of your money? Mario said something happened to you after you retired." Mac shrank back. This might be a sensitive topic, and Doc was a rather large man...
"Alright kid, I'll tell ya the story." He sat up in his seat. "Kid, I retired when I was 34. I was a young man. I still had energy, ambition. But without boxing, I had nothing to really guide me. Nothing to put my efforts into. I got into stuff I shouldn't have been doing. Clubbing, drugs, alcohol. All of that. For 10 years I was lost, trying to figure out what was next. Trying to feel what I had felt from boxing. Trying to feel ... alive. And I never found it. The worst of it was when I started gambling; that's how I lost most of my money. It wasn't the drugs; it wasn't the lawyers; it was those nights in Vegas, casino after casino. I called myself needing the rush. And before I knew it, all my money, my cars, my houses; all the stuff I worked so hard for, I had given it right back up. I started praying. That's what my mom always told me when things got tough. I found God, and I found myself. I repented, cleaned myself up. Started working to build up the communities. Commentated a bunch of boxing matches; did some interviews, radio shows, and published a book. Finally got some money, and I put it in cheap, safe stocks. And finally, I opened the Punch-Out Gym. Ain't got nowhere near the money I used to have, but I ain't going broke no time soon, hopefully." He paused for a moment, lost in thought. "It hasn't been the easiest 5 years, but I got through it. And I'm better now than what I used to be, thank the Lord. Ya friends Mario and Luigi, they in bad places too, but as long as they stick with God he'll bring them through, just like he brought me through. Now I wouldn't be saying that if I didn't believe it. But I got a good feeling about those boys. They'll get past it. Someday."
He closed his eyes again and crossed his arms. "But that's enough yapping for now. See you when I wake up, kid. Don't take no food, no water, no nothing from these airplane people. Don't know what's in it, or how long it's been up here."
Retrieving their bags, Doc and Mac went to the entrance area of the airport. "I told her we would be here," Doc said, looking around. "Where is she?"
"Jerome!" someone called out. "Jerome turn yo pecan head self around and look at me!"
Mac turned around and saw a small, bony lady. She wore black glasses, gray sweatpants, and a purple sweater.
"Bring yourself over here and give your mamma a hug!"
"Momma!" Doc ran up to her and gave her a big hug.
"Oof! You done got old, rusty, and fat," Momma Louis said. "Let go before you crush my back, baby. Nice to see you too!"
Turning her attention to Mac, she gave him a hug too. "So, you must be Mac."
"Uh, yes. It's uh, nice to meet you, ma'am." Mac said.
"Ooh, Doc got you cut, huh boy? Looking strong there. You need to be working him out." Mama poked Doc's stomach. "Still got that ol' pudding gut, I see."
"Mama, you ain't got to do that," Doc responded.
"Oh hush," she said. "You fat, boy. You know it, I know it, and he know it. Ain't nothing new. Come on now, let's get ya stuff to the car."
They walked out of the airport and went to Mama Louis' car, a brown Dodge St. Regis.
"You still riding around in this thing?" Doc asked. "Ain't it like a decade old? Momma, I can get you a new car-"
"Oh shut up with that foolishness, Jerome. Me and this car is getting along just fine. Just put your stuff in the back."
Driving through Mobile, Mac stayed quiet and again just gazed out of the window. Mobile, despite being a major city in this state, was nowhere near as busy as Brooklyn and the other boroughs. As they drove farther away from the airport, the industrial urban area petered out into small businesses and shops. More trees instead of buildings. There were many small bushes and several undeveloped lots.
"You alright, baby?" Mama Louis asked from the driver's seat.
"Yes ma'am, I'm fine," Mac replied.
"Told ya," Doc said. "He's just quiet."
Eventually Momma Louis pulled off the main road and went down a couple of streets before turning into a driveway. The small home it led to was painted a faded color of pink. It was a compact, one story house with a chain-link fence running along its border to the sidewalk. A tree stood in the middle of the yard.
"I hope ya'll two have an appetite; once Jerome hung up the phone I decided to start cooking," Ma said.
"Mamma, you ain't have to do that," Doc said.
"I know that boy trying to eat healthy, so I made ya'll some grilled chicken, some broccoli, some carrots, and just a little bit of sweet potato pie, but don't get greedy now. Just pull up a seat at the table and I'll fix ya a plate."
Sitting down, Mac sat back while Mrs. Louis put a plate in the microwave.
A large hand clenched down on his shoulder. "Remember to say grace before you eat," Doc said in a firm whisper. "Actually, let me do all the talking. Don't do anything that might make momma upset. This a Christian household, son."
Mac froze like a statue, making absolutely no move to touch his food until Doc was finished praying over the food.
"Whew! I am stuffed." Doc said. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight mama." He kissed his mom on the cheek and waved to Mac as he walked by. "Night, Mac."
"Jerome, you better wash them dishes before you go upstairs!" Mama Louis snapped. "After I spend a day cooking for you. That's why you fat now. You never want to do anything."
"Sorry Mama! I'll do it." Doc mumbled out, quickly moving to the sink.
"Think I'm gonna stay up, just watch the fire. Mac, you welcome to join me," Momma Louis said, settling in a rocking chair.
Thinking it would be rather rude to decline, Mac sat down on the sofa.
"I gotta ask: what do you think about my baby boy?"
"Doc? He's a good guy. He's been a really good trainer."
"Good. My boy knows his way around the ring, that's for sure."
She sighed, then looked back at the fire. "Here, lemme ask you a question, see if you pay some attention: you know the place they always announce where Jerome is from before his fights?"
"No, ma'am. Doc has us watch his fights on mute so I don't get distracted by the commentary. He says it makes me focus on the actual boxing even more."
"Alright. Alright. That's fine," Moma Louis said. "Thing is, Doc ain't from where they said he is. They say he from Detroit. He ain't. He from right here in Mobile, Alabama. Born in a hospital just an hour away."
"Then, why doesn't he have them say he's from Mobile?"
"A long time ago, back when I was boxing, I was the female middleweight champion of the world. Knocking people out left and right. Well, one day, this pretty little white girl became the number one contender. Name was Honey Bunn. She had everythang the boys wanted. The looks, the money, the charm. Everyone wanted her to take that title from black ass me. The promoters, the fans, most of the girls in the locker room. We all knew the same thing: if she went the twelve rounds with me that night, she wuz walkin out the new middleweight champion. Night of the fight, crowd was extra hot at me. Dirty dogs called me every name in the book. Didn't stop me though. Only thing Honey Bunn didn't have was the talent. Most times, promoters asked me to always drag the fights out. Most of my fights went from 7 to 11 rounds. Sometimes I would let the girl go into the twelfth to trick them clay-eatin' crackas into thinking I was gonna lose the belt. Wet they tongue a l'il bit. What they ain't know was this: more respect I had for the girl, I'd put her down earlier. Only the worse went to the twelfth with me. My early fights when I was giving it my best, it normally ended around the fifth round."
She turned and looked straight at Mac. "Sweetie, Honey Bunn barely saw the third against me. I ain't even take the time to enjoy the fight. Soon as that bell rung, I put a whoopin on her so bad you'd thought she was the devil himself to deserve that kind of beatin'. First round, I didn't even try to play with her. Hit her with every punch I could throw. She was tryin' to find her legs, and I was doin' everythin' in my power to knock her off 'em. She practically ran to her corner once the round was over. Beat her good." Momma Louis nodded. "Beat her good."
"So then, I don't know what they told her while she was in the corner, but in the second round she came out swinging. Threw out a couple of stiff ones, if I 'member correctly. But I wasn't gonna get caught like that. All it took was one stiff jab to the gut and one hook to the face, and she sobered right back up. She was bloody, and she was scared. And ain't nothing more the crowd hates more than seeing a bloody, scared, pretty white girl. So now the girl running, basically just running away from me, and I'm chasing after her like a starving dog. And we just running 'round that ring, Now, I cut her off, and just as I'm ready to finish the fight by TKO, she got it. I'll admit it. She got me."
"She knocked you out?" Mac asked.
"Come on now boy, give me some credit." She laughed. "Reese Louis didn't go like no street corner hussy. She got me with a jab on the nose. Put me out for a few good seconds. And to her credit, she tried to put me down. Crowd went from booing they lungs out to jumping out they boots in a second. I can still hear 'em chanting 'Honey' to this day. Thing is, getting hurt only made me mad.
"She was hot for a good twenty seconds before I smacked her so hard to she spun in a circle. I put her in that corner and tried to punch her teeth down her throat.
"Thirty seconds into the third, I hit her with my knockout right cross. She fell out the ring. Crowd was ready to jump me into the ring and lynch me. I was ready to go out swingin', too. If I was gonna die, I was gonna die champion. Boys in the back managed to get me out of there."
"Now, Jerome's daddy was an army man, but his heart was in music. He preferred a suit and a piano to a uniform and a rifle. Real good with his fingers." For a second, Moma Louis smiled. "Real good man. Real good man." A tear fell down her cheek. "His shift ended an hour and a half after my fight was over. When he packed at the bar and was done for the night, someone shot him as he was gettin' into his car. Shot him dead. Never got the bastards that did it."
"I'm, I'm so sorry," Mac said.
"Jerome always with a friend during my fights. The night his daddy died, Jerome and I packed up everything we owned and drove up I-65; only stopped for food and gas. Jerome was only 8 when it happened. Jerome don't remember his daddy too well these days, but let me tell you: he loved his daddy, and his daddy loved him. They was my two little peanuts, and I wouldn't trade the world for them."
Moma Louis smiled and nodded again. "So, Jerome and I moved up north after the murder. Detroit was a haven for us. I spent the rest of Jerome's childhood raising him there. Never boxed again. Boy needed a mother more than I needed a ring. I became a chef for a restaurant. I'd bring dinner home right from work. I'd try to bring Jerome a cookie if he finished his schoolwork before I got home from work, and two if he passed his tests. Needless to say, my Jerome was a smart boy." She chuckled. "But that was good. I wanted my boy smart. Rather him make his money in a uniform than in gloves and shorts."
"But then, how did Doc become a boxer?"
"Jerome losin' his father changed him forever. Teachers would say that he would get in fights. He never really said anything to me, cause I'd bust him in his mouth if he did. But I could tell he was angry, he was hurt. He had a stutter real bad, so no doubt them kids picked on him for it. And he was terrible with girls; my baby real shy around girls. When he was 14, He started fightin' behind my back. Whenever he came home with bruises, he just said that the kids in schools messing with him, or he got mugged or something. When he graduated, I wanted him to go off to university. He was smart; knew all about the human body. Knew every organ, every muscle, every bone, every nerve, knew what was connected to what and how it worked. He could've been a good doctor. And that's what I hoped he would be. Dr. Jerome Louis. Now, don't that sound nice?" she asked Mac.
"Yes. Yes, it does," he replied.
"When I figured out what he was up to, we had a fight. And I figured if he was grown enough to not go off to a university like his momma told him, he was grown enough to be by himself. So he ran off. But like I said, my boy smart. Apparently, he went back down to Mobile. Got himself a good start using my name and went from there. Got picked up by the WVBA, and the rest is history. He never stopped calling me after he got some money in his pockets. 'Momma! I'm famous now! I got plenty of money! Move out of Mobile and come up here with me! I can take care of you! I can get you the best house money can buy!' That boy never stopped trying to get me to go to New York. Never liked it there. Too much noise. I hate them cold winters. If Jerome wanted to see me, he better get in one of them fancy cars and come down here to see me. And that he did. Always took some time out to come see me. A lot of different people got a lot of different things to say about Jerome Louis, but let me tell you this: that boy was a good son. Always have been, always will be. And I love him to death. Glad he got himself together. Spent a lot of nights wide awake wonderin' if my baby was gone pull through."
She drunk a bit of her tea. "Oh baby, I'm sorry for talking your head off. You know what? Why don't you tell me a little about yourself."
Mac laughed nervously, sliding his hand down his neck. "I'm sorry, but there isn't a lot about me, honestly. I'm just Mac. I really don't have much to say."
"Everyone got a story, child." Momma Louis gave Mac a sweet smile. "Let's start with your parents. What are they like?"
"I ... never knew my parents. I grew up in an orphanage in the Bronx."
"I'm sorry to hear that, baby. Did they have an accident?"
"I don't know. I don't even know who they are. I was just left on the doorstep."
"Did you ever get adopted?"
"No. I stayed at the orphanage for until I was 13. A lot of people would come, but no one ever wanted me. There was never enough food to go around, never enough to where we all felt full. The bigger kids would hog everything and beat down on the smaller ones. Like me."
"What happened when you were thirteen?"
"I just ... left."
"Why'd you leave?"
"Some stuff started happening."
"Stuff like?"
"Some of the kids started getting sick. Like, really bad. I think someone said it had something to do with the water. One of the kids, she was like 6, died in 2 days. Then another kid. And then another. And the bodies just kept piling up. One of my friends, he got sick, and he died the next morning."
"Oh baby, I'm so sorry to hear that."
"We used to sneak out the fence, get all the bottles on the ground we could find, and go trade 'em in for money," Mac said. "And next thing I knew, they threw a sheet over his face. So ... a bunch of kids left, and I just went with them. I think it was the night the Giants won the championship. A bunch of us snuck out. I've been on the streets ever since."
Mama Louis shook her head. "Oh no, baby. No child should be forced out onto the streets. What were you doing out there?"
"I got a job sweeping up hair at a barbershop for a while, so I had some money. But then one of the adults from the orphanage came in one day and I left. I made my way to Brooklyn, and was just living on the streets until I met Mario."
"Sleeping in an alley ain't no way to live, child."
"Well, I'm not sleeping in alleys anymore," Mac said. "Mario took me in. He's how I met Doc."
"Nice to see someone been good to you," Mama Louis said.
"Mrs. Louis, with all due respect to Doc, I don't know if I can do this. I got this big fight coming up, and if I don't win, I'll lose a big contract, and I'll probably never be a good boxer then."
"Call me Granny, baby, first of all," she said. "And second of all, you special child: I believe in you. And so does Jerome. That's why he training you right now. Listen boy, do you know that in all his years, Jerome never brought a woman home, not even once? He ain't never been good with relationships. I don't think he ever kept a woman around for more than six months. Hell, you probably the closest thing I'll ever have to a grandson." She laughed.
Mac thought about when he was sitting at the table, and the time at the airport. Doc could be very threatening when he wanted to make a point. No wonder he was always single.
"Boy, to get this far with my boy, Jerome believe in you. And I believe in you. So you got to take everything in your life, and just push it all aside because baby this is the here and the now."
She laughed. "Kid, to get this far with my boy, Jerome believe in you. And I believe in you. So you got to take everything in your life, and just push it all aside because baby this is the here and the now."
"I just don't think I'm there yet."
"If you ain't there, I'ma get you there. That's what I'm here for. I promise you that when you step into that ring, you gone have a fighter's chance. So head off to bed; we got training at the crack of dawn."
"Training?" Mac asked, puzzled.
"Yeah son, you got training to do. Oh, you thought this was a vacation?" Granny Louis said. "You said it yourself: you need all the help you can get. So go on now, go get you some rest. You gonna need it."
Mac got out of his chair. "Thank you, ma'- I mean, Granny Louis."
"No problem, son." She beamed back at him. "No problem at all."
Way up in my tree I'm sitting by my fire
Wondering where in this world might you be
And knowing all the time you're still roaming in the countryside
Do you still think about me?
