Page 36 of Undefeated

“If you make a fist and make this difficult, I’ll go get that tree saw from the utility room and cut your entire fucking hand off. And whatever I cut off, I’m taking with me. Hold still, God damn it,” I said as I squeezed his wrist harder.

I slid my left hand from his wrist to his hand. As I squeezed his palm in my hand, I opened the shears and lightly squeezed his index finger in the razor sharp jaws. Not having ever cut the tip of anyone’s index finger off either, I didn’t know what to expect. I had pruned multiple bushes, and in hindsight, the branches - regardless of girth, were always easy to snip in two. Quickly, I squeezed the handle of the shears. As soon as I began to squeeze, he jerked his hand and screamed.

As he screamed, the tip of his finger fell into my lap. Blood immediately spurted from the tip of what was left of his finger. I covered his hand with the towel that his hand was wrapped in. Simultaneously, he slobbered and sobbed loudly. As he pulled his hand to his chest and cried, I stood up.

“God damn, I ended up getting a lot more of that fucker in the shears than I wanted to. I’m really sorry, looks like I got about an inch of that fucker. Well, at least it was quick,” I said as I bent down and picked up what appeared to be half of his finger.

I pulled another towel from my back pocket and wrapped his fingertip in it. I shoved the towel wrapped finger into the front pocket of my jeans. I grabbed my hoodie from the arm of the chair and put it on.

“Don’t want to forget this,” I smiled as I pulled it over my head.

I grabbed the electrical tape from the tool box, and turned to face him. I held the tape in the air so he could see it.

“Let me see that hand, I’ll tape that dish towel to it really good so you don’t make a bigger mess on this carpet. You’ve got blood, tears, and snot everywhere,” I chuckled.

I reached down, pulled his hand away from his chest, and went around the circumference of the towel several times with electrical tape. I tossed the tape onto the couch cushion and shook my head as I watched him rocking back and forth holding his hand.

“I think my work is done here. Get some ice on that finger and mouth. You’ll need to wrap those ribs. They’re going to hurt longer than anything else. You can Google everything, there’s great medical advice out there. And dude, I have no idea where your teeth went when I smacked you with that hammer. That happened really fast. You might have swallowed those fuckers. Now remember,” I kicked his thigh with my foot.

With his eyes full of tears, sobbing, he looked up at me.

I held my index finger to my lips, “Shhhhhhh. Just between you and me.”

He stared.

I kicked him again.

He nodded slowly.

I turned and walked toward the front door. As I did, I felt like I had actually accomplished something. The feeling, to me, was similar to winning a boxing match. I reached for the handle, inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled as I opened the door.

I walked out onto the front porch, shut the door, and pulled the keys Kace gave me from my front pocket. I pushed the key into the lock and locked the front door.

Safety first.

SHANE. My father joined the military immediately following the first Gulf War, in 1993. My mother was around for a few years following that, from what my grandfather told me, but she left us not too long after he joined the military. At the time we lived in Oceanside, in southern California. I really don’t remember much of my childhood - I was shuffled around quite a bit and I suspect that it all became too confusing to remember.

When they flew the planes into the world trade center, my father was deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. I moved to Compton and lived with my grandfather at the time of his first deployment. From his first deployment to his death, he was never really around more than a month or so at a time. I lived with my grandfather until his death.

Having someone in my life that prevented me from feeling alone has always been important. I suppose it’s important to everyone, but it’s one thing that helps keep me feeling as if I’m normal. From what I can remember of my childhood, I had always been somewhat of a loner, and never had a tremendous amount of friends. I’ve never really been shy, just slow to let people into my life. As long as I had someone to keep me company, I was satisfied. In the past, my father, grandfather, and a former girlfriend have filled that void in my life.

I always had a tremendous amount of respect for my father. Although I rarely saw him, he devoted his time, his career, and ultimately his life for the country and what he believed in. As a tribute to him, and as a matter of respect, I wore his dog tags with me everywhere I went. They had become somewhat of a good luck charm to me. In the boxing ring they are not allowed, and I have always had my trainer or manager hold them while I fight.

I realize that I have tremendous natural talent as a boxer. I could never imagine trying to box without them accompanying me to a fight. To me, it was as if my father was there with me, looking over me, cheering me on, and providing me with support. A father that was never able to be present through my childhood.

Now present for every match.

Now fighting without any family to support me was difficult. I relied totally on the support of my dog tags to be my family. Being without them would put me in the ring naked and without any form of protection.

“Now listen, Shane. This guy is a beast. You’ve watched his films. You’ve seen what he can do. Watch his left cross. He’ll catch you blind. If he ever connects that thing, you’ll have one hell of a time recovering,” Kelsey stood behind me as I worked the speed bag.

“Where we headed if we beat this guy, Shane?” he asked as he clapped his hands.

“Big ticket, boss,” I responded without looking up from the bag.

“That’s right, the big ticket. You’ll be on that card for the championship fight. You’ll be on god damned television. Pay television, Shane - not ESPN. You’re one fight away from being a household name,” Kelsey said as he clapped his hands.

“You amaze me, Shane. I have never seen a boxer that is such a natural. You act like you’re eating fucking dinner or going for a walk in the park. You’ve got a heart of ice, and nerves of steel. Hell, you can hear every word I say while you’re fighting. I’ve never seen that. I’ve yelled at boxers for a lifetime, and after a round is over, they have no idea what I said,” he said as I continued to work the bag.