"Now, Luigi dear," his mother gave him a pained smile. "you don't have to decide anything now, but we want to talk to you about something."
"Wha-? What's going on?" He tried to sit up and moaned as he tried to left his back off of the white bed. "Aaah-ack!" He broke out into a furious cough.
"Nononono Luigi, don't strain yourself. Relax." Yoko eased her son back onto the bed. His body writhed in pain, fingers going rigid. Tiny red splotches dotted the left side of his lower jaw.
"What the..." Lou froze as he walked into the room, shocked at Luigi's condition. "Luigi, what happened?"
"I just got a little cold." Grabbing a paper towel, Luigi wiped his clammy face and dumped it into the trash can next to him, which was full of other tissues stained with sweat and dots of blood. "What's happened? Why did you guys want to ask me?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," Mario said, coming from right behind his father to Luigi's beside. "You just stay here and get better. We can talk about this later."
Lou's face went red with rage. "Stable? They call this stable?!" He slammed open the door with a loud crash and stormed down the hall.
"Oh no..." Mario went to grab him. "Dad, come back! Don't break anything!"
One of the nurses came by, hearing the noise. "Excuse me, what appears to be the problem?"
"What's the problem?" Lou practically dragged the nurse into Luigi's room. "Yesterday I get a call from one of the doctors here saying that Luigi is 'stable' and they will have to boot him soon. "Does my son look stable to you? He's sick as a dog!"
"Dad, let the woman go, she's just a nurse!" Mario had to pry his father's hands off of the nurse.
"He only started feeling ill several hours ago. We've been monitoring his condition! He's been feeling weak all morning, even struggling to shave. He had to be assisted by one of the nurses!"
"We're paying forty fucking thousand dollars for this? All this time and my son is crippled and sick?! I thought this hospital was supposed to clean? How did he get sick in the hospital?!"
"Dad, let the people do their work, there are dozens of patients here." I'm so sorry. He mouthed to the nurse as he pushed his father away.
"Welp, I guess that settles it then!" Lou said. "Luigi's too sick to go anywhere. He needs to stay here for a few more days before we can take him out."
"Take me out? Of the hospital? Why are you talking about this now all of a sudden?" Luigi asked.
"Luigi, the medical bills are starting to add up pretty high," Lou said. "We've hit 40 grand."
Luigi's eyes went into a panic. "Oh my God! 40 grand?! Did you guys go into debt for me?!"
"No, your brother has a personal piggy bank," Lou replied, calming down at the thought of the extra money. "Thank God for that."
"Please do not refer to Pauline like that," Mario said. He then turned to Luigi. "We got an extra 90 grand from Pauline a few days ago. We've been going back and forth on what to do with it for the past few days. We can't afford for you to stay here too much longer. You have about another month or so."
"Yeah, you being here isn't too much of a big deal yet," Lou said.
Yoko gave Luigi a hug. "Which means you don't have anything to worry about pumpkin. You just lay here and rest."
"And hopefully this little sickness of yours passes sooner than later," Lou muttered. "Anytime you want out of here, just let us know."
"Yeah, about that AYACK HACK!," Luigi's sentence was interrupted by another round of coughing,"I-I want to be out before Mac's fight."
"What?" Lou asked.
"I want to go to his match. I want to see it in person. I want him to know he's got my back. When is that again?"
"Tomorrow night," Mario replied, looking at his parents with concern.
"Then I want to leave tomorrow morning," Luigi said adamantly.
"Listen Luigi, I understand the sentiment, but you really don't look good." His father said.
"We need to make sure whatever you have passes before you leave this place." Yoko put her hand on his head. "God forbid you have an infection. And think of all the germs that are outside."
"I get sick out there, I get sick in here, what's the difference?"
"The difference is this is a hospital-"
"Mom, I been in here for days on end! I don't even know what day it is anyone! I'm sick and tired of being in this room, with these four walls!" He pointed to the window. "There's a whole world out there, and I want to be a part of it again! Just let me leave for one night and I'll come back here in the morning, alright? Please?"
Lou saw Mario turning away, clenching his fists.
"Luigi, baby-" Yoko started to choke back tears. "I'm really sorry that all of this happened to you, but I don't think-"
"Now hold on dear," Lou put a hand on her shoulder. "Now, we have a good day and a half to prep for this. I think Luigi could use a break from this place. Hell, I've been in here for 20 minutes and I'm already ready to go. Now Luigi," he gave his son a stern look. "Now you can't go outside looking like this, so I want you to get some good rest. You're not going outside looking like a train wreck, you hear?"
"Y-Yes sir!" Luigi tried to stifle a cough.
"Now in the meantime, we gotta get Luigi's bill paid. Mario," Lou kicked the briefcase, sliding it over to Mario. "Start counting the money. Your mother and I will back, we gotta go see how we can pay his bill. Take out ehhhhhh, about half. Yeah take out 45k, leave the rest of it in the briefcase."
"If you say so," Mario opened the briefcase and started counting. "1..2..3..."
"Are you sure this is a good idea? Letting him leave?" She asked him.
"I'm sure." He said, able to put that extra bit of confidence in his voice. "He could use a distraction. We all could. A family outing. Just like how we used to. Before all this happened. Maybe we can get dinner afterward."
"How is Luigi gonna move if he can't walk?"
"We'll have him in a wheelchair." Lou turned to Luigi. "Luigi my boy, is that good with you?"
Luigi nodded. "Better than nothing."
"...43...44...45. 45 grand is what should be left in here." Mario raised the briefcase. "All the bill are 100s in stacks of 10s."
Lou grabbed the briefcase. "Thanks. We'll be right back. Okay Yoko, let's go." The couple walked out of the door and down the halls, following the directions to the billing office. Reaching the office desk they, tapped the bell on the counter and the clerk shortly came in. "Good morning, what can I do for you?"
"Hi, we're the Martinets, and we would like to pay the bill of Luigi Martinet now, please."
"Let me research the total, just one second please." He typed away on his keyboard.
"Actually, could you add one more day to it? We are pulling him from the hospital tomorrow, we just wanted to pay it now."
"No problem." The clerk responded. "Hmm, you're total is coming out to be... oh dear, $41,989. Were you coming in here to set up a payment plan?"
"Naw, we're just gonna pay the entire bill now."
"The entire bill?" The clerk raised an eyebrow. "Now sir, there is no need to rush, are you sure that is the best option for you? We don't mind having it paid over a period of ti-"
"We are paying. The entire bill. Right now." Lou opened the case, revealing the stacks 100s. "Now you said $41,989." He reached in and pulled out $3,000 before handing the briefcase over to the stunned clerk, whose mouth was completely agape. "I want my $11 back, by the way."
"Doc?" Mac called out. "There are some newspaper people here that want to talk to you."
"Coming." Doc quickly came out, holding a couple of VHS tapes. "Good morning! My name is Doc Louis. How can I help you?"
"You're Doc Louis? Great." The wiry man that stood in front of him put out his hand. "Alexander Knox. New York Daily News. My boss asked me to come down here and interview you. I understand that you have a very important fight tomorrow, so hopefully this new press will sell more tickets!"
"Let's hope so," Doc said with a smile. "So, what would you like to ask me?"
"Actually, I was hoping I could talk to your student as well. It's Mac I believe, correct?" He turned to the young boxer.
"Uh, yeah." Mac simply nodded. He'd never been interviewed before. He wasn't really sure what to do.
"Nice." Knox flipped open his reporter's notepad and got out a pen. "So, what would you say is-"
"Actually," Doc cut him off. "Mac's parents have intensely told me to keep Mac from talking to any members of the press. They value their privacy, and his. Sorry man. I had to tell a woman from the New York Times the same thing last Tuesday. You don't have any cameras on you, right?"
"As it turns out, I do happen to have one," the reporter admitted, "but-"
"Ooooh boy. His dad reads the Daily News too. Don't want no storm coming." Doc grabbed Mac's shoulders and pushed him along. "Come on Mac, let me put you in the equipment room for a moment."
Mac was puzzled. None of what Doc said was true. "Hey, what's go-"
"Don't say anything." Doc's voice went terse and his grip on Mac was really starting to hurt. "I'll tell you when it's safe to come out."
"Again Mr. Knox, I sincerely apologize. But my hands are tied." Doc said, calmly closing the door to the equipment room. "So, Mr. Knox, what did you want to talk about?"
"Well Mr. Louis, as you are such an accomplished boxer, what knowledge have you passed down to your protege?"
"It has been quite a ride making a boxer out of Mac." Doc gave a small laugh. "We have our ups and downs, but the most major thing I've done is teach him the Star Punch Uppercut."
Knox's eyes went wide, and he began scribbling furiously on his notepad. "Your famous punch? You taught him that?"
"Man, it was the first thing I showed him! We practice it every day! His punch ain't as strong as mine, but he's much faster, and that impact ain't nothing to mess with. He knocked me out yesterday with it!" Doc let out a hearty chuckle.
"So what are you expecting from your student when the bell rings?"
"The first thing I expect is honorable sportsmanship. Because that's what matters most. My student is a turning into a damn fine man, an I'd hate for his debut to be mired in any way. Now, the gameplan is for the offense to be aimed at the lower body, all of this is going to set up the uppercut. The uppercut works best when your opponents' head is below yours."
"I see." Knox took a few more moments to write more notes. "Last question. If you win this match, what does this mean for Doc Louis and the WVBA going forward.?"
"Oh, I'm not really sure. Honestly, I'm just trying to take it one step at a time. But if I could do more work with the WVBA, I would. Do some commentary, maybe work a podcast or a radio show. But what I really wanna do is focus on Mac and winning this fight."
"I perfectly understand." Knox closed his notepad and extended his hand. "Thank you so much. I appreciate this very much."
"No problem." Doc shook his hand. "Are you sure there isn't anything else?"
"I think I've taken up enough of your time. Good day Mr. Louis." The reporter put his pad back in his pockets and walked out of the gym.
Doc watched him drive off from the window. "Hey Mac!" He shouted. "You can come out now! He's gone!"
Mac cautiously walked out of the equipment room. "Doc, what was that all about?"
"That wasn't no real reporter son," Doc waited a few more seconds. "that was Donnie King."
"What?!" Doc's absolute disdain of Donnie King came flooding back into Mac's mind. "What do you mean?"
"Donnie King would hire some actors and have them go to places as reporters, and dig up information on fighters. You gotta watch what you say."
"How did you know it was one of his actors?"
"Well first of all, he said his name was Alexander Knox. That's the name of the dude from the Batman movie. Second of all, he ain't show no credentials whatsoever. I've seen Donnie pull this trick too many times to not see this coming."
"So what did you say to him?"
"I told him that you mastered the Star Punch Uppercut."
"But-but you never even taught me that!"
"And now you know why," Doc said with a wink. "See kid, I been waiting for this day for a long time. One of the best things going for you is that no one knows anything about you. So they can't game plan for you. They have to game plan for me. And that includes sending a reporter to get some notes off of me. Now that guy is on his way back to see Donnie King. And what they don't know is that everything I gave them is a lie. So they are going to go in there with a faulty strategy, and we can capitalize on that. You're going to have to work on your feints. If we can get him to bite on a feint uppercut, we can win. You understand me, son?"
Mac nodded.
"Good. Good." Doc started looking around. "Now where did I-"
"Just one thing Doc," Mac said. "When this is over... do you mind teaching me the Star Punch Uppercut?" He gulped. No doubt Doc would be secretive about his most important tec-
" Sure," Doc replied as he rummaged through his desk. "After the fight. I already told that guy that you used it. So now you can't use it in the fight. He's gonna expect that."
"Oh. Okay. That makes sense." He said meekly.
"Here they are!" Doc grabbed a VHS tape. "Got some footage of your opponent. His name's Cam Titlle. Come on, pull up a chair, and just sit back and watch. I've watched these tapes up and down and I've got plenty of notes. I just want to see what you pick up on."
"Yes Doc." Mac sat down and waited while Doc put in one of the tapes and started it up. "Now, one really good thing we are gonna get from this is that now we know how he fights, but he doesn't know how you fight. That's a huge advantage." He said as the tape started playing. Mac saw a young man in a yellow shirt and brown trunks getting warmed up in the ring.
Doc unwrapped a chocolate bar. "There he is. Your opponent tomorrow. Look at what he does. I'll play it back for you if need me to."
After about half of a minute of the fighters trying to settle in, throwing a couple of jabs to keep each other at a distance, Cam made his move, charging at his opponent and hammering away at his opponent with a flurry of punches. The other boxer backed into the ropes, trying desperately to defend himself. He grabbed at Titlle, getting his arms around Cam's body. The ref came in, breaking the two apart, and shouted harshly at the other boxer.
"Why did he warn the guy that was getting beat up?" Mac asked.
"He initiated the clinch. Clinches aren't allowed under WVBA rules." Doc replied.
Once the referee was done and signaled the fight to continue, Cam went back on the attack, throwing punch after punch after punch. The other boxer started to double over. Cam saw the opportunity and swung with a left hook, slamming his glove right on the chin. The opponent was knocked off his feet, hitting the ground with a thud.
The ref counted to 10. Knockout. 2:36 into Round 1.
Doc paused the video, taking a bite of his chocolate bar. "So kid, tell me what you saw?"
Mac was unresponsive, staring that the screen.
"You alright there Mac?"
"He...he... he demolished that guy..." He said breathlessly.
"And? That's not you lying on that mat, kid."
"But it could be."
"It will be with that attitude," Doc shot back. Damn it. He thought to himself. He had studied all the tapes for weeks. Cam Titlle was good, but Doc expected that. There was no way Donnie King would throw them a softball with a WVBA contract on the line. He had kept the tapes away from Mac he was concerned that fear would creep into Mac's mind. I was hoping by now this wouldn't scare Mac. I made a mistake. Maybe I should have shown it to him earlier and got it over with.
"I can't win, Doc! That guy has so much more experience than me!"
"And I got much more experience than him, so little to me! Trust me kid, I would never set you up for failure. You can win this, but you have to know what your opponent's strategies and tendencies are. So tell me what you saw."
Mac threw his arms up on the air. "He threw a lot of punches."
"Detail kid. Detail."
"He uses his left hand on his higher punches, and he used right jabs on lower body punches."
"His goal is to make his opponents drop their hands. Once they do that, he uses a left hook. I went through all the tapes. His left hook is his signature punch. A left hook is dangerous because the left hand is the lead hand in the orthodox stance, and its power comes from a full body rotation. So, tell me how you're going to avoid it?"
"Block it with my arm, or weave under it?"
Doc nodded. "Good. you know that's gonna be his go-to punch. So, see anything else?"
"Uh...not really." He moved his head around, trying to find whatever it is Doc was talking about. "What am I looking for?"
"Look at his opponents. Beginners step left in a fight way too much. They do this because it is easy, natural and automatic. But here's the thing. When you step left, you step into the other guy's kill zone and exactly where he wants you. You step into his right hand if you step left. So step right, step right, step right - to his outside. And that forces him to step left to follow you, and he goes into your right hand. This is one of the reasons southpaws have a huge advantage against orthodox fighters. We're gonna practice sparring like that later. As long you gameplan for him, you can win."
"Alright," Mac said as he took another look at Cam. "This guy looked like a monster in that match."
"He ain't all that," Doc said, munching on a chocolate bar, deciding it be best to not have Mac look at the other tapes of Cam's similar one-sided matches. "Look at it this way kid. Don't think of it as you against him, think of it as you against yourself."
"You really think I can do this Doc?" Mac asked.
"If I didn't think you were ready, I wouldn't have signed you up for a match. I've seen time and time again the kind of boxers that the WVBA gives Future Investment Contracts to. That Cam guy ain't nothing too special."
He stood up from his chair, finishing his chocolate bar and throwing the wrapper into the trash. "Now from the way I see it, we got about a day and a half to get this plan right. Now with that phony reporter giving Donnie King bad info, and looking at Cam's gameplan. I think we got ourselves the groundwork for a good little gameplan. How about you kid?"
"I...I guess." Mac mumbled out. Would a plan really matter when he was actually in the ring with that guy?
"Then the only thing we have left to do is practice." Doc reached for his gloves. "Time for more sparring Mac. On the double."
Rainy day, rain all day
There's no use in getting uptight
Just let it groove it's own way
Let it drain your worries away, yeah
