Part II.
The fight had been arranged quickly and efficiently and a date was set for a night two weeks after Sara's challenge. Gil's Bar had rarely been so abuzz with excitement, with their popular champion about to take on novice fighter with so much at stake. Over the next week, the two women ironed out the rules through intermediaries: Gil, the owner of the bar, on Ileana's behalf, and Sara's trainer Antonio for the older woman. They would fight using 10 oz gloves for two minute rounds. The fight could only end with a KO or TKO, with one fighter throwing in the towel or being knocked down three times in a round. No judges. The attire would be up to the fighters, but both agreed to wear trunks and no tops. The venue seated up to 80 people and tickets sold out quickly.
Over the next two weeks, both women did what they could to prepare. Ileana worked on her footwork and ran long distances to improve her stamina. Ileana, under Antonio's watchful eye, tried to lose some weight, build up strength in her arms, and spar more. But she had less time to spare, between the demands of the home: school pick ups, soccer practice, laundry, and grocery shopping. She was also less disciplined, sneaking a pastry or cupcake when no one was looking. James, for his part, felt guilty at first at being caught. But the idea of two women fighting over him - the two women he loved most in life and felt very attracted to - was incredibly exciting. He wasn't sure what he would do if one or the other won, but this was between them.
The morning of the fight, both women went in early, at separate times, to weigh in. Sara had cut her weight to 149 lbs, but had put on a bit of muscle. Ileana came in at a pound less. Both were given last minute instructions by Gil and shown their dressing rooms. But the reality of the fight was beginning to set in, and Sara - who normally could barely bring herself to hurt a fly - was beginning to feel nervous. The smell of the fight venue, wood, sweat, stale smoke, and cheap alcohol, was a part of it. Maybe the knowledge that she was going to be so exposed, so vulnerable, in a raised ring being punched in front of a live audience, was the rest. But she felt like throwing up.
An hour before the doors opened, both fighters made their way to Gil's with their trainers. In their own dressing rooms, they stripped down, and put on trunks, long socks, and boots. Sara was in navy blue, while Ileana wore bright red with white trim. Their trainers taped their fists. For Sara, a newcomer to this kind of fight, her fists felt suddenly heavy. The shiny red leather gloves on both their fists were an added weight, and once taped on, it was clear to Sara that they were now two weapons. She punched them together to give herself confidence, after the ref marked up her tape. Antonio applied vaseline to Sara's face, and helped her slip on a long blue robe, with a white sash loosely tied around her waist. She was ready, as she knew Ileana would be.
As she was getting ready, the murmurs in the main room grew steadily louder as the audience began to come in. She could imagine them ordering drinks, talking about the fight. But the few moments of waiting before begin called out were the most nervous of all. Sara felt intensely conscious, her stomach an empty pit, her heart fluttering, her chest and back felt exposed under the loose robe, her nipples touching the cloth gently, becoming harder. What must the crowd outside be thinking, she wondered? Had she made a mistake? What would she look and feel like in an hour? Would her marriage, her life, be intact? There was only one thing to do: focus on Ileana's face and body, imagine it, channel her anger, and try to destroy her opponent.
In the main room at Gil's, the referee stood in the center of the ring with a microphone and spoke over the increasingly raucous crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to tonight's special event! A boxing match between two lovely ladies. First, in the blue corner, in her first competitive bout, standing five foot 2, and weighing 149 lbs, the challenger .... Sara!"
Amid loud applause, Sara strode out, with Antonio right behind her, not looking at either side, up to the ring, up the two steps, and between the ropes, as Antonio held them apart. She raised her hands, trying not to look at the crowd - many of whom she would probably have recognized - and bounced on her toes in her corner. The ref went on: "And in the red corner, with a 12 and zero undefeated record with 11 knockouts, standing 5 foot 8 and weighting 148 lbs, our champion and crowd favorite ... Ileana!"
The applause was louder as Ileana strode to the ring. She had not bothered with a robe, striding out topless with just trunks, boots, and gloves, her chest tanned and pert breasts bouncing and shiny. Many men in the audience rose to their feet as she jogged up the steps and slipped between the ropes, not even waiting for her corner to follow her. She raised both hands in the ring, and settled into her corner, shadowboxing slowly.
All eyes turned to Sara, who awkwardly removed her robe, Antonio's help being required to get the sleeves over her gloves. To her surprise, there were a few boos in the audience. "Put a shirt on, you fat bitch!" she heard a voice shout, but tried to ignore it. Nothing mattered unless she won and knocked out her rival. She thought about everything at stake: her marriage, her family, her house. She was doing it for all of it.
The ref signaled the two women to meet in the center of the ring. "Now ladies, I want a good clean fight. No kicking, biting, punching the back of the head or neck. When I say break, step back." His words fell on deaf ears as both Sara and Ileana stared purposefully into each others eyes. Sara could feel the taller woman's breath on her face, smell her sweat. Is this what her husband had felt? She tried to shake those thoughts and took a step closer. They were now almost nose to nose, breast to breast. Perhaps Ileana was leaning down, but Sara could feel their nipples touch, both hard. Her rival's felt small compared to her, in a large but perky breast. Her own were softer, more maternal, but her nipples larger. Ileana was reminding her of her youth, but in her own way, Sara was signaling her own strength as a wife and mother.
The ref completed his instructions. "Get back to your corners, and come out when the bell rings. May the best woman win!" And with that, the two women touched gloves and went back to their corners, waiting for the opening bell and the fight of their lives.
