Truly A Cinderella Man
Chapter 2

A/N: This is a fun chapter, I think. It's where the plot comes. I was sitting in the hairdresser's with my notebook the other day and I got this idea, and I was so glad I actually thought of a plot, so here's where it starts!

You guys, we need a Cinderella Man category. Posting in Misc. Movies is a bummer. Hah.

OoOoO

James stumbled through the door after midnight, knocking over one of the kitchen chairs as he did. He grabbed onto the table for support and put a hand to his forehead. He looked at his kids, who were, luckily, still fast asleep in their beds.

"Jimmy?" James jumped, and looked up at Mae, who had been standing near the sink. "Are you alright, baby?" her face hardened. "Did Joe get you drunk?"

"A little, I think." He didn't really remember.

"Oh, Jimmy. Right after a fight, too. I can't believe that man sometimes. Now, you get to bed, and I don't want to hear a word about it."

"Not a word," he repeated groggily.

"No, not a word." She wrung her hands for a while, looking at the floor, then looked up when James didn't go anywhere. "Jimmy?" James began to grin strangely. Mae blinked. He swayed over to her, picked her up around the waist with one arm, and carried her into their bedroom.

OoOoO

The sun broke through the single musty window of James and Mae's bedroom, flooding James's face with light. He grimaced and opened an eye. It had been a long time since he'd woken up to sunlight, as he was used to waking at five in the morning. He sat up and listened to the sizzling noise that the sausage was making on the stove, remembering where he was. He only remembered the fight last night and talking with Joe at the restaurant. They'd bought a bottle of...something. He didn't remember quite what it was...

James stumbled over to his closet and pulled on a pair of pants to go under his white undershirt, pulled his suspenders up, and forgetting his socks and his false tooth. He hobbled barefoot into the kitchen, barely able to open his eyes. Jay, Howard, and Rosemarie were already outside playing. Mae was at the sink washing a bowl.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

Mae looked up from her dish, to her husband, and shrugged. "Well, you usually wake yourself up..."

"Mae."

"I wanted you to get some sleep, Jimmy. You were out late last night, and you came home drunk because of that - that - that Joe Gould."

"I needed to get to the docks this morning!"

"I know...I made you a sausage." James looked at the scrawny piece of meat in the pan and his heart dropped. She'd saved him food from breakfast. It didn't look like much, sitting in that pan, cracking and sizzling away, but during this time, it was very significant. "Well, I made it earlier - and it got cold - so...I heated it up." her voice sounded teary and when she looked up from the pan, her face was sort of twisted into the face a guilty woman would have. James put his tongue where his tooth should be and looked at the floor.

"Thank you." He sat down at the table as his wife brought over a plate and the pan, and coaxed the curly sausage out of it. Then, she went back to the sink, put both dishes into it, wiped her eye with the palm of her hand, and sat down next to her husband as he began to slowly eat. He didn't want to show Mae how hungry he was, and acted as if that little sausage in front of him was just enough to fill his appetite. There was a long silence, and somebody screamed outside, somehow making Mae remember something.

"I called doctor Agleston this morning."

"What for?"

"Well, your ankle. We um...we'll have to go in on Saturday."

"And then I've got another fight on Thursday."

"Oh, Jimmy, can't you get 'em to cancel it? How are you going to fight on a bad ankle? Jimmy, how?"

"Mae, listen. I'll go the doctor's and I'll go to the fight. I ain't cancelin' the fight. There's no way I'm cancelin' the fight."

"But, Jimmy, you'll lose! You'll get hurt again where you can barely get up, and then you'll lose! Listen to me!"

"Mommy!" Both Mae and James's heads snapped in the direction of the front door, where Rosemarie had just run through, carrying what looked like a tiny white ball of fur.

"What is that, sweetie?" Mae said.

"I found him back in the alleyway!" she hurried over to her parents and showed them. It was a white female kitten. It only looked a few weeks old. "Can we keep him, please?" James looked at the kitten, and smiled. It looked so scared and helpless, yet determined and courageous.

"Well, sweetie, I don't think the original owners could afford the cat anymore, and that's why they left him - "

"We'll keep him, Rosie."

"Jim," Mae whispered. He only looked at her and smiled again.

"What are you going to name him, Rosie?"

"Gee, I don't know. Do you want to name him, daddy?" James stared at the kitten, and she stared back.

"I've got an idea." Mae and Rosie looked at James, and he nodded. "Hope," he said.

OoOoO

"Hey, Joe."

"Hey, champ, how ya doin'?" Joe slapped James on the back and led him across the concrete floor. Two fighters were already deep in a spar, both of their managers shouting and bouncing around the edges of the ring. Besides them and a few people hanging around by the punching bags and the weights, the place was empty. Joe gave the two crazy managers over at ring 6 a look as if he'd never seen anything like it before in his life and wouldn't dream of doing anything like it.

"See those guys?" he muttered. James smirked and decided not to retort.

"Quiet today."

"Yeah, it's been quiet. I've been here all day and there've only been about four pairs here - hands." James sat down on a stool and held out his hands so Joe could massage them. "So did you feed off of the sweet fruit that I fed to you last night? Take advantage of your condition in say - the bedroom?"

"The only fruit I fed off of was yesterday morning when Mae talked about what a horrible man you are."

"She didn't try anything - ?"

"If she did, I don't remember."

"That's sweet. Do you remember singing show tunes as we left the restaurant?" Joe smirked and began taping.

"I remember you being an idiot as we left the restaurant, and that's all I ever think of you, so, no. I don't remember."

"You're very funny, Jim, hilarious. That was the pinnacle of wit, that was."

"Bite your tongue, Joey."

"You know, I've actually started doing it on my own."

"Good man."

"Yeah, yeah." he started James's left hand.

"I went to the docks today."

"Still? Jimmy, you don't have to go so often, we've been makin' some dough lately."

"Yeah, well, first minute you have it, next minute, it's gone."

"I know what you mean. And you - working at the docks all morning, and now sitting here with your bad ankle, still wanting to train. Look at that, he's got some guts after all."

"Go to hell."

Joe laughed. "Nah, I'm just messin' around. Hey, Jim, who, just a few months ago, beat Max Baer down to his ass during 15 straight rounds of brutal fightin' snagging the title of "World Heavyweight Champion"?"

"That was me."

"Great - let's go - get those suckers on!" James took off his shirt, pulled on his gloves, and climbed up into the ring. Joe handed him up his headgear.

"Who am I fightin', Joe?"

"Some chump called Buddy Spattard. He was on the waiting list - been on there since 10 AM this morning, so I figured I'd sign you up. I've never heard of him in my life. Whoever he is, he's been sittin' around here for what, five hours? And whoever he is, I want you to kick his ass."

"It's only practice, Joey, don't get all worked up," James said, throwing punches at an invisible opponent and dodging their own invisible punches. He glanced up for a minute.

"Come on, where is this guy? Has he looked at the list?"

"Hey, Joe, look behind you." Joe turned. "D'you think that's him?"

"Jesus Christ, I hope not." A teenager was heading toward Jim and Joe, carrying his own headgear and gloves. The headgear was borrowed, but his gloves were his own. He didn't look jumpy or excited - he looked fifteen, and he looked tough. He was wearing a blue jersey and a pair of trunks. The muscles on his arms and legs were features to desire, but they were excelling in size for his age. He was Hispanic with a shock of messy black hair on his head and a glint of animosity in his green eyes. Joe was taken aback when he stopped dead in front of him. "Who the hell are you?" was his opening.

"But Spattard. And who the hell are you?" the kid smiled a little, but kept the tough-guy look.

"Well, see, I'm here to strip for the fighters today. And you?"

"I'm here to spar with James J. Braddock. I could do without seeing any skin of yours but your hands and your face while I'm fighting, but whatever gets the other guys pumped. Personally, I could do without seeing even your face..."

"That's cute. Real cute, kid. Jimmy, you can mop the floor with this guy, and I truly suggest you do it too. What's your problem, what do you want? You want an autograph 'r somethin'? What are you doin' here?"

"I already told you, Skippy."

"He's bluffing."

"He doesn't look like he's bluffing, Joe."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't look like his hands are taped, either."

"Tape 'em," said Jim.

"I ain't tapin' 'em."

"Buddy, my friend, Joe's gunna tape your hands."

"I ain't tapin' 'em!"

"Go easy on him, Joey, he's a kid."

"Might as well learn from the best," Joe said, always willing to compliment James's game whenever he could.

"I'm not so weak. I work out on the docks every morning, and have been since the beginning of the Depression," Buddy said, pointedly to James. "I seen you there, Mr. Braddock."

"I didn't know they let kids your age work over there," James said.

"They don't."

"That's comforting."

"Bite your tongue, Joe."

"I've supported my family from the beginning of the Depression, and I'm going to support them after it's over, when I become a boxer." Joe bit his tongue hard.

"You got a trainer?" asked James.

"No, that's partly what I came here for," said Buddy, fumbling with the lace his left glove.

"You came here to mooch off of someone else's trainer?" said Joe incredulously.

"No, of course not. But, I was hoping Mr. Braddock could train me."

"Mr. Braddock doesn't train people. Especially kids, for that matter," Joe said.

"He does now," said Buddy. James raised his eyebrows. "Please, Mr. Braddock." James looked at Joe, who just stood there giving James a look like: "if-you-say-yes-to-this-guy-you'll-make-yourself-look-like-an-asshole," but ignored it.

"I'll t'ink about it. Let's fight first, eh?"

"Yeah, let's fight! Come on, Jim." Joe taped Buddy's hands hastily, and the boy put in his mouth guard, and shoved his hands into his gloves. Joe pushed the gear onto his head and helped him up into the ring.

"Alright, let's be clean, but not too clean," Joe said, pacing around the edge of the ring. Buddy and Jim stood in their corners with their hands up. "Alright, touch gloves." The two moved forward, touched, and began the spar. Jim angled a jab at Buddy's stomach, but he countered it with his left arm and got James on the side of his head.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Now, really show me what you got." James stuck one on Bud's side, and then on his head. Buddy backed away, and James smiled.

"Ah, this guy's a schmuck. And he wants to be trained my Jimmy Braddock." For a minute, James thought Buddy might stick Joe one, but James smiled at the kid and shook his head.

"Ignore him. He don't know what he's talkin' about." The corner of Buddy's mouth twitched, and he aimed for James's face, but he put up his arm and blocked the punch with his glove.

"Good workout, eh, Jim?"

"Bite your tongue, J - " Buddy got James hard in the face during his distraction, and guilt fell over his face. James stretched his face for a while and nodded, then put his arms back up. Buddy looked suddenly smaller than he had when he'd gotten into the ring. He was shrinking into himself, gulping hard and hoping James didn't think him an idiot punk. He wanted so badly to train with a pro. It was enough to meet James Braddock in person, but training with him would be either a dream or a nightmare. Buddy didn't know what kind of trainer James would be: the kind that works his student until he's dog tired, or the kind that's easy on their student and takes breaks between every hour of training. He was hoping, though, that if he hit him too hard, he'd think that he'd only come to the gym to think himself better than a pro and prove he could be a better fighter than even Jimmy Braddock could be.

James, on the other hand, wanted the kid to hit him as hard as he possibly could to see if he had any skills, or if he'd last long enough in the ring for even a seven round fight. It would take intense training to shape a fifteen year old up to the boy's highest standards for his age, and most at that age back out. It would be tough, and it would depend on how determined the fighter was. It took a lot to continue.

For some reason, or maybe, just because he was being himself, Joe was cheering on James. James thought this was quite amusing, because this fight, he wasn't cheering on himself, he was cheering on Buddy.

They didn't pause for breaks (Buddy didn't have a trainer yet anyway to offer encouraging, gory, words about how to fight, and James wanted to see how the kid would do without any breaks. He'd nod his head when Buddy was backing off, telling him to get back in and try to hit him, and he would every time.

"Come on - don't be afraid to get back in there - your guy's not just gonna back off if you do. If you're open, that means he has a better chance of beatin' ya up. Come on. Just give it to me - " he countered a jab. "Oh, that was nice - great job." he hit the kid right back in the jaw. Buddy clamped down on the back of his tongue with his molars hard and tried to keep his eyes from filling up. The headgear kept out most of the pain, but Jim still had a strong arm and wasn't afraid to hit anybody. As far as he was concerned, it was Buddy's fault his bones weren't as hard as his.

Buddy missed an uppercut when James dodged and caught it with his left hand. He threw his arm back down and went in for a punch, but the kid was ready and sent one flying at his right eye. James dodged it just in time and smiled. Buddy's face turned as red as the headgear he was wearing.

"It's okay, we'll have to work on aim." Buddy didn't know what James meant by that. He put his arms down.

"So, you'll take me?" James only kept the game going, taking this as an advantage, and slugged him hard in the side.

"Get your hands back up!" he shouted. Buddy did so, and got Jim twice on his head. But James got them even, when he pushed him up against the ropes and began to pound on him almost mercilessly. Buddy clenched his teeth and reversed it. He jabbed James in the face, then on his shoulder, on his head. James laughed, and suddenly, with gloved hands, Buddy pulled off his headgear. His face was sweaty and red against the brown tint of his skin, and his hair was sticking out every which way.

"What? What's wrong with my fighting?" he demanded. James pulled off his own headgear, and his right glove, then ran a hand through his hair.

"You're fifteen years old. If you came here thinking that if you fight me, my skill will somehow be transferred to you through my gloves, then you got the wrong idea. Boxing's not that easy, kid. We all make it look so easy to get up there and fight, and that's because we've got utmost determination and we're stronger than the other guys who ran out of the ring when they saw their opponent. It helps to be doing it for a lot of years, too." Buddy stared at James for a while, patient as he took off his other glove and disposed of the gear on the floor. He cracked his knuckles. "If you really want to be a boxer, you gotta show it. Your show ain't that good - "

"THEN, WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?" the sound echoed around the gym, and mingled with Joe's quiet "Jesus Christ..." The pair at ring 6 looked up to see what all the commotion was. James only gave a little smile.

"You're a smart kid, I can tell. Smart enough to understand that what you have to do is a lot more than you already are." Buddy's jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me? I came here, I put on a show." James smiled again.

"I said the exact same thing once. After a fight I was sorry for going to. You should feel the same way about this one."

"Shit,I don't got time for this. I gotta work. See ya 'round." Buddy climbed out of the ring and headed out of the gym. James took out his mouth guard and ran his tongue over his teeth inside his mouth, then looked up.

"I got a fight on Thursday."

Buddy stopped, and turned his head. "I've never missed any of your fights. I'll be there."

OoOoO

"So, Jesus - what do you think of that kid?" Joe said as the two were walking out of the gym. James had a bag with his gear over his shoulders and had changed into a black button down shirt and trousers. He rolled up his sleeves.

"He's got potential," he said. "He's the spittin' image of me when I was fifteen years old. Sure, there was no Depression when we were growin' up, but everyone in my family had to work their asses off. We didn't have a lot 'a money." Joe sighed and stopped outside his car.

"You want a ride?"

"It's alright, I'll walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." James scratched his head.

"Alright. We gotta actually get you trained up for Thursday, so, I'll see you, what, Tuesday and Wednesday? That alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. So, we're down for Tuesday and Wednesday. I'll see you then."

"Alright, Jim." Joe opened his car door. "Say 'hi' to Mae and the kids for me, will ya?"

"'Course."

"And, try and get some sleep, Jimmy. I know you gotta go down to the docks tomorrow, that's fine, but go to bed early." James nodded. "See ya later, kiddo." James waved as Joe started his car and took off down the road, then he began the long walk home.

A/N: I really had fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!

I'm so glad I'm getting more readers for this. special thank yous go out to Mercury Gray, NaughtyTautology, Nitesh, and XHeartofaDragonX for being my first reviewers. Thanks, guys!

For every chapter, I will post review replies at the end, as, if you know my writing, I always do. Also, as I always do, I am requesting at least five reviews to post a new chapter. If I get four and I do not get any reviews for a long time, I won't deprive those who want an update, and I will post the next chapter. It's a fair way to get my rewards and for you to get yours! Thanks for reading, everybody. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

Review, people!


REVIEW REPLIES FOR CHAPTER 1:

Mercury Gray - Congrats! You were my first reviewer! Hah. You need badly to go see the movie, so maybe you can improve on your boxing jokes. lol! Hope you liked the update.

NaughtyTautology - Goodness knows if I remember to alert you of updates - unless I'm on your Author Alert. If I'm not, I suggest you put me there, because I like when you read my stuff. You ought to, anyway, you got me hooked on your Sitcom. (facepalms) I need to finish chapter 11... Thanks for reading/reviewing and all the comments and stuff. But now, I must ask, WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY SEMICOLONS? I love semicolons. If you reply to this in a review, don't forget to say how fantastic I am too. ;- (I stole your smiley)

Nitesh - Oh, I'm so glad you came by to read! I posted a Beautiful Mind poem the other day too. It's short, and I haven't gotten any reviews for it yet! Thanks so much for the compliments and everything. I love Joe and Jim's relationship too. They're great - it's like in my Finding Neverland story - Charles Frohman and J.M. Barrie's relationship. (I don't know if you've seen the movie or not) They're so funny together. One's sarcastic, the other one's the one to laugh at their sarcasm and put up with them when they're bitchy; and yet they're still best friends. The crazy characters are my favorite to write. :- Hope you continue to read! I'd appreciate it if you put me on Author Alert too. Not just for me to get reviews, but I know that if you find out the author's posted 2 new chapters since you last visited, it can be a pain the arse.

XHeartofaDragonX - Joe is amazing! He's a Charles Frohman - but he swears more! Yes, you must keep reading this because you love me and boxing is fun and cool and whatnot and you must obsess. lol I'm kidding. But you do have to keep reading, and you have to love Jimmy. Playwright still remains best, as it is longer and...better liked? I'll get more traffic for this, you'll see.