In the aftermath of the quickest fight in history it became obvious from the loud booing and hissing sounds that the crowd felt they hadn’t got value for money. I shouted to Sumo to escort Walker and the money away from the angry mob to a meeting point deeper in the wooded area of the park. Then placed myself between a dazed Johnny J and a bunch of mean schoolkids, trying to calm everyone down by assuring them that the next fight would be better.
‘So who’s fighting next?’ someone shouted.
‘Sumo,’ I said, but I was lying. Sumo would never fight. He didn’t believe in it. He said it hurt God or something. He could be a bit of a holy roller. (That’s what my dad called people who went to Mass every day and judged people who didn’t.)
There was a hush. ‘Who’d fight Sumo?’ a boy in the crowd said.
‘Ah no,’ another kid said. ‘Sure he’s got hands the size of frying pans!’
‘Well, who’s brave enough?’ I said.
Every kid there looked the boy beside him up and down. No one spoke up. No one was brave enough.
‘Tell your friends. The prize is twenty-five quid,’ I shouted. There was a collective gasp. Twenty-five quid was a lot of money. They all moved off chattering among themselves and the terrible fight was forgotten.
Charlie climbed down from her tree. ‘Nice one,’ she said.
‘Go away,’ I said.
Charlie grabbed her bike. She was always on her pink Triumph 20. It was like it was attached to her. Johnny J was sitting on the grass, still slightly dazed.
‘You OK?’ she asked him.
‘Yeah, grand.’
‘I brought some frozen peas, in my basket. If you want to take some of the swelling down.’
‘Ah yeah, cool. Thanks,’ he said, and he placed the bag of peas on his eye. Johnny J was always polite to her, which really got under my skin. I helped him to his feet and we walked on. She cycled by his side.
‘We’re trying to do a little business here,’ I said, hoping she’d go home.
‘I know. I want to help.’
‘Well, you can’t.’
‘I can fight,’ she said.
Johnny J and I both laughed.
‘Seriously. I beat up my brothers all the time. My dad said if I was a boy I’d be the next Barry McGuigan.’fn1 Johnny J and I laughed again. Charlie Eastman really was the vainest person I’d ever met.
‘You’re not fighting,’ Johnny J said.
‘Don’t know what you’re laughing at. I’d win.’
‘Against Sumo?’ I said, and laughed.
‘He’d just stand there, so of course I’d win, but I’d do some fancy moves to entertain the crowd,’ she said, and she took her hands off the handlebars and started air-boxing as she cycled.
Johnny J laughed again, but this time it was with her not at her so I didn’t join in.
‘No girls fighting,’ I said.
‘Who says?’
‘I say.’
‘Johnny J?’ she said, looking to him to stand up for her against me, as though that was even possible!
‘He’s right. Sorry,’ he said.
‘No one will pay to see girls fight,’ I said. She stared at Johnny J, again waiting for him to back her up. He didn’t.
‘He’s right. I’m sorry,’ he said, and I wished he’d stop apologising.
She was hurt. ‘Girls can fight. Girls can do anything,’ she said, and it looked like she was about to cry. (Crying is another reason I really hated hanging with girls.)
We walked to the meeting place, where Sumo and Walker were waiting for us. Sumo rested his huge hands on Johnny J’s shoulders. ‘Show me,’ he said. Johnny J took the peas away from his eye.
‘Ohhhhhh, that’s a shiner,’ Walker said. Johnny J’s eye was black, blue and even a little swollen.
‘It doesn’t hurt.’
‘How much more do we need for the plane ticket?’ I asked.
‘A boatload more,’ Walker said. ‘We’ve only got one hundred and fourteen pounds and fifty-one pence.’ A boatload was at least seven hundred quid.
Johnny J was worried. ‘But we need to send my mam to America soon.’
‘I know. We’ll find a way,’ I promised.
‘The chemo is really hard on her,’ he said.fn2
Johnny J looked so sad that it made Charlie well up. She didn’t wail or anything. Tears just sparkled in her eyes, and when one escaped she wiped it with her sleeve and turned away.
I panicked. I couldn’t deal with crying! ‘Right! Fine! I’ll fight. I’ll fight them all.’
‘It’s no good, Jeremy. If Johnny J got knocked out first go, no one’s going to pay to see you,’ Walker said, before shrugging his shoulders and adding the word ‘fact’.
‘He’s right. You’d be terrible,’ Charlie said.
‘Sorry, Jeremy – you promised them Sumo and you’d get pummelled,’ Johnny J said, and coming from Mr Knocked-Out-In-One-Hit that hurt.
‘I don’t fight, and Jeremy can’t fight,’ Sumo said, folding his arms and widening his stance like that bouncer outside Barry’s Betting Shop.
‘All right, all right! What’s this? National Pick-on-Jeremy Day?’ I asked.
Sumo relaxed and put his arm around me in a kind of suffocating bear hug. ‘But I think you’d be great,’ he said, confusing everyone.
‘You just told me I can’t fight,’ I said.
‘I mean you’ll be great at something else,’ he said, and he smiled at me and patted me on the back.
‘Cheers,’ I said sarcastically.
He grinned at me. ‘You’re very welcome.’ He was serious. He even gave me the thumbs up to prove he was serious.
Johnny J was quiet all the way home. We lived four doors down from one another. I used to pass my house to walk him home. Sometimes we’d sit on his front wall and talk for a while, but not that evening. When we got to his gate, we could hear his mam calling out for him through the open window on the second floor.
‘I have to go.’ He ran in and left the door swinging behind him. I stood there for a minute, long enough to watch him take the stairs two by two and disappear behind the bathroom door.
I shouldn’t have stayed but I couldn’t leave. I don’t know why. I walked inside the small hall and I climbed halfway up the stairs, with the faded orange carpet that smelled of disinfectant and mint, and I sat listening to Mrs Tulsi throwing her guts up and Johnny J playing a game of I spy with her whenever she could talk.
‘I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with b?’ Johnny J said.
‘Bruise,’ Mrs Tulsi said. ‘Do we need to talk about what happened?’
‘I just fell.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ she said, and then she threw up again. ‘Should I be worried?’
‘No, Mam. I swear. It’s all good.’
‘I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with b,’ she said.
‘Brush.’
‘No.’
‘Bath.’
‘No.’
‘I dunno. I give up,’ he said.
‘Bile,’ she said, and he laughed.fn3
‘Gross,’ he said, and they laughed together.
‘I can’t do this any more, love,’ she said, and Johnny J stopped laughing.
‘Do what?’
‘The chemo, love. I’m stopping it.’
‘But it’s keeping you alive!’ my friend shouted in a voice that screamed panic.
‘The doctors say it’s time, Johnny J.’
‘Ah no, please, Mam,’ Johnny J cried out.
‘It’s not working any more, son. I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Tulsi said, and although I couldn’t see either of them, I could hear them crying. I instantly felt a combination of sadness and sickness, so I got up and ran down the stairs and out the front door and down the small pathway that led to the street and past the four doors that separated my house from Johnny J’s, their terrible conversation echoing in my mind.