Chapter 4: Day of Reckoning
Fever burned through the body like an out of control wildfire. Overhead, the cardiac monitor displayed an endless stream of rapid blips, the fast heart rate racing to maintain enough blood flow in the face of the cardiovascular collapse. The intravenous pumps delivering their vasoconstrictor drugs supported a blood pressure barely compatible with life. Three antibiotics flowed through the veins in hopes of exterminating the offending bloodstream bacteria. The mechanical ventilator was set to maximum pressure and oxygen content forcing predetermined volumes of oxygenized air into the lung’s tiny air sacs, pushing aside the congestion of fluid and debris. My patient, thanks to the merciful propofol and fentanyl, was aware of none of this. Another case of septic shock.
And another day at work.
In another hour, my shift will end. I will sign out my report to my relieving nurse and go home. There is no place like a critical care unit. Look past the high tech equipment, the state of the art medicine, the highly trained personnel, and what do you see? You see the very essence of critical care - human beings often on the cusp of death, clinging to what may be their last moments of life. There’s a story behind every patient. Although it’s not always visible, critical care units are full of fear, courage, love, anger, sometimes resignation. Sometimes, I wonder what goes through the minds of some patients as they’re facing death, before their minds are sedated into oblivion. Do they reflect on their lives? Do they feel thankful for what they had? Angry? Remorseful? Guilty? For the ones that believe in divine judgment, do they rehearse their “Day of Reckoning?”
I’m home now, but not for long. I will quickly wash up, get changed, and head out again. I’m going to another institution to witness an activity that I expect will also involve pain, fear, courage, anger and resignation. For some of the participants, there will be shame and humiliation. Perhaps it’s a day of reckoning of another kind. I’m going to Billy’s sports bar and fight club to watch my friend Kelli fight inside a cage.
I let the babysitter in, kiss my daughter, and head for Billy’s. On the way, I contemplate my own fledgling fight career. It’s been two weeks since my match with Kyong. I finished my profile on the catfight website. Kyong is now also on it. The general recorded our battle and posted it - sneaky bastard. That’s actually good news for me as I now have credit for both of my fights. I need one more for my catpin.
My record is officially 2-0. I’m undefeated but I don’t feel like it. Let’s face it. I could just as easily be 0-2. I fought two smaller opponents. Freda dominated me until I landed a lucky punch. Kyong stretched me out all over the sand until she made a critical mistake. I’ll pick my next opponent carefully. I found a trainer. I need to get better. My trainer thinks I have a heavy right hand and that my knockout of Freda wasn’t a fluke. Looking at the videos of my fights, I can see where I was too tentative early allowing my opponents to take control. I need to get aggressive.
My husband admitted he found my match with Kyong exciting. And our sex life has really picked up. But...I still haven’t told him everything - like the website and my match with Freda. In fact, he doesn’t even know I’m going to Billy’s tonight. I told him I’m going to a local high school for career night to talk about nursing. Afterwards, I’ll go out with some girlfriends for a drink. It’s the absolute last time I will lie about my fighting life. I picked an exact date and time to reveal all. I decided it’s okay to go to Billy’s tonight without him. He couldn’t join me anyway. After work, he’s meeting with manufacturer representatives for the new cardiac robotic equipment...excuse me, “The Kiva”, the hospital is buying thanks to the general’s gift.
I know this fight tonight is a very big deal to Kelli for a few reasons. First, if she wins, she’ll be the top contender for the Housewife Division in cage fighting, which will give her a promised title shot. Secondly, she’s convinced a woman named Jolene her sights set on Jake. Kelli’s last cage fight was against Jolene’s sister Paige, a trophy wife I know from the country club. During the fight, Kelli noticed Jolene sitting next to Jake, practically slithering and grinding all over him. Worse, Jake seemed to do little to nothing to discourage her. The distraction almost cost Kelli the fight. I will not let that happen tonight. Jolene will definitely be there tonight fighting for the title. My job is to keep her, or any other woman, away from Jake. I promised Kelli I will guard him like a Doberman pinscher.
As I pull into the parking lot at Billy’s, I see Kelli and Jake in my rear view mirror, arriving in their Jeep. Good. I wasn’t looking forward to wandering around alone in this place. Kelli looks relaxed and confident as the three of us walk across the parking lot to the front door of the club. I notice I start to feel the jitters again. Although I had two fights under my belt, this is a whole new level. A public fight in front of a crowd. Inside a cage. Wearing a bikini. There’s more...the loser gets stripped naked. I feel a strange mix of excitement, dread, concern for Kelli; the butterflies are back.
This is my first time at Billy’s and I’m a bit apprehensive. While still outside, we hear a tumultuous roar from within the building. As we set foot inside, my heart pounds immediately. The smoky air and neon lights cast a foreboding atmosphere. I pay my cover charge since I’m not a fighter or trainer. Kelli and Jake are clearly accustomed to this environment as they start to casually saunter through the crowd as I follow. The clientele look like an interesting mix of socioeconomic backgrounds. Many of them look the part of blue collar workers, farmers or ranchers. Other men are in dressy casual clothes while others are wearing ties and jackets as if they came straight from business meetings. The crowd is overwhelmingly male, although I see more than a few women. Comparable to the men, there are tank tops and Daisy Duke shorts but there are also blouses, blazers and pumps. Interesting. I’d estimate about 250 people making up the crowd.
As we make our way through the throng, I see the bar to my right. To my left is a very spacious area as if it was once a large dance floor. In the middle of this area stands a conspicuous structure - a 15’ x 15’ cage made of chain link fencing, the only well lit area of the facility.
It appears that a fight has just reached its conclusion corresponding to the roar we heard at the door. Now the crowd is rowdy again with chants of “strip her” and “take it off”. The noise reaches a crescendo as I stretch my neck to direct my eyes to the source of commotion. For a moment, I catch a glimpse of a pretty Latina looking woman dressed only in a black bikini bottom smiling jubilantly, arms held high over her head waving a gold bikini bottom. Must be the winner, I thought. I go up on my toes and stretch my 5’7” frame a little more to see a second woman with light brown hair, completely nude, crying, shakily picking herself off the canvas. Throughout the building, the electricity, bloodlust, and sexual tension were palpable.
The noise dies down as the cage clears in preparation for the next fight. I’m completely unfamiliar with this place so I continue to follow Kelli and Jake as we weave through the mass of spectators and bar patrons en route to Kelli’s dressing room. As we turn a corner, Kelli and Jake suddenly stop as we pass a threesome sitting in a corner booth. I recognize the brunette as Paige, the man is her husband Robert. I can only assume the attractive redhead with the pretty green eyes is Jolene.
Kelli and the redhead glare at each other. Yup, assumption confirmed. The situation immediately becomes tense.
"Good luck tonight, skank,” Kelli barks.
"You suck as bad at reverse psychology as you do at fighting, bitch..oh and I see you brought a little lapdog with you tonight " Jolene shoots back. She looks me over up and down as I keep my eyes on hers to show I’m not intimidated.
Kelli leans over their table until she and Jolene are at eye level and in a deliberate low voice growls, “I actually do want you to win.... I want to be the one who takes that title from you.."
“Bitch, I'm the only one that will be doing any taking - when I take your husband" Jolene says as she begins to stand. Damn! Kelli wasn’t kidding. Now I know I will have my hands full tonight.
A large bald headed man, slightly larger than Jake arrives on the scene. "Ladies... ladies.... save it for later... you both have fights tonight... I assure you both, you will get your chance to settle this business... just not tonight." I surmise this is Billy.
A Latina referee directs us to Kelli’s dressing room as Kelli tries to cool down. Now I see how heated this issue is between Kelli, Jolene, and Jake. With the three of us in the small room, I make it a point to stay out of Kelli’s way. I know she needs to focus and get “in the zone” so I speak very little trying not to distract her.
I excuse myself to give Kelli her space and head to the Ladies, room. As fate would have it, I practically bump into Paige. I don’t really have an issue with this woman. I don’t have a particularly high opinion of her but she is another member at our club and I offer an olive branch to diffuse the awkward situation from a few minutes ago.
“Hi Paige,” I said. “I’m Kiva. We met once before at the club.”
“Oh yes,” she replied. “I know who you are. You’re a nurse. Right?”
“That is correct.”
“And aren’t you married to a doctor?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What kind of doctor?”
“He’s a cardiologist.”
“Not bad, although I might have gone for the neurosurgeon or orthopedist,” she laughs.
“Well...,”I reply, “they may make more money but the lifestyle can be brutal. They’re never home.”
“Well, is that so bad?” she laughs again. Paige continues, “So...you’re married to a doctor....but....you....are still...working? ...How interesting.”
I know where this conversation is going. Paige belongs to a clique of trophy wives who believe a woman’s highest calling in life is to marry a man with wealth and influence, never have to work, while enjoying all the perks of affluence. In their view, a married woman who works outside the home, whether by necessity or choice, is automatically of a lower social position. It means either her husband’s income is insufficient or, in my case, she has seriously misplaced values.
“Yes,” I answer. “I’ll never stop being a nurse. It’s my vocation. I’m not going to waste all the education, training, and skill I’ve acquired over the years. It’s just who I am.”
“To each her own, I suppose,” she says. “I’m glad I got out of the rat race.”
“And I have no interest in spending my day watching soap operas and participating in endless bake sales,” I respond.
What Paige doesn’t say is the job of trophy wife comes with a price. Her main responsibility is to enhance her husband’s public image. She must look attractive at all times and be presentable on a moment’s notice. Many trophy wives in the club, including Paige, have had boob implants and other forms of cosmetic surgery. She must attend community events, her husband’s business dinners, charitable fund raisers, and be a regular fixture at the club, rarely ever missing a Friday evening Happy Hour. For many trophy wives, the position is unstable. A lot of them were former mistresses wrecking their husbands’ previous marriage. Although they try to deny it by telling themselves that “he found his soul mate” bullshit, they know, at least subconsciously, they could be discarded at anytime for the next pretty young thing.
“But isn’t it hard knowing your child is being raised by someone else?” Paige asks.
Cheap shot. In truth, I respect any personal decision a woman makes when she feels she is acting in the best interest of herself and her family. I resent it, though, when someone pushes her values and judgment onto me.
“My daughter is just fine, Paige,” I firmly tell her, “and she’s off limits to further discussion.”
“Fine then,” she replies. “May I make a final suggestion,” the surgically statuesque woman asks, her head tilted with a haughty expression. “I saw you came in here with Kelli and Jake.”
“Yes”
“I strongly suggest you keep yourself out of the crossfire,” her voice steady, her expression stern. “Whatever happens between Kelli and Jake and Jolene, or even myself, is our business....This doesn’t involve you. You just keep your nose clean...Am I making myself clear, honey?” Her eyes give me a piercing stare. I stare back at her and we lock eyes for a few seconds.
“Enjoy your evening, Paige,” I mutter as I turn away to rejoin Kelli and Jake in the dressing area.
Kelli looks terrific in her camouflage bikini, as she begins her stretches. Jake, as usual, looks calm and relaxed. But the tension and anticipation is undeniable. I look at Kelli and imagine myself in this situation. I wonder what it would feel like to fight in a cage in public in front of a largely male screaming crowd - wearing a bikini, no less. How exhilarating would a victory be? And how extremely humiliating would it be to be defeated...and stripped naked. All at once, I’m excited, nervous, a little aroused...and fearful. Kelli has done this before. I wonder what she feels. Soon there will be a knock on the door to indicate Kelli’s fight is up next. The anticipation causes my heart to skip a beat. Kelli and Jake share a quick kiss as I follow Jake out to the cage area to take our seats.
At 6’3” and 240 lbs., Jake clears a path through the crowd as I follow like a running back behind an offensive lineman. As we approach the cage area, I feel a large bony hand on my shoulder.
“Well, hello young lady,” a voice greets as I turn.
“General! Fancy seeing you here.” Shit! I forgot the general frequents here. I’ll definitely need to tell Tom about my adventures before someone else does.
“You thought the old man was lyin’ to ya about Kelli fighting at Billy’s, didn’t ya.”
“No General, I never thought you were lying,” I explained. “I guess I decided to see for myself. Is Kyong here?”
“Not tonight. She’s at a class. We’re working on getting her U.S citizenship. Then she can vote and help make sure the right people get elected to keep our military strong. Where’s your hubby?”
“He’s not here. He’s at a meeting”
“And you’re here alone?” the general asks with a hint of concern. “Well now, this is not a good place for a woman like you to be waltzing through here by yourself. Come sit with me. I have an extra seat in the VIP section. Kelli against Danielle. That ought to be a ripsnortin’ lalapalooza. But I think Kelli bit off a little too much in this one. I’m afraid your friend is gonna end up as nekkid as the day she was born.
“Thanks General,” I reply, “but I came here with Kelli and Jake. I’ll be close to Jake so I think I’ll be alright.”
“Well OK then,” said the old man’s gravelly voice. “But if any men try to put the moves on ya, you come see me about it. I might be up in age, but Ol’ Fuss and Feathers here still knows how to put the hurt on somebody.”
“Will do, General. Thanks.”
I resume my journey to the cageside seats. Jake has gone ahead but fortunately he is easy to spot. Up ahead, I see him sitting in the front row. As I get closer, I don’t see an empty seat next to him. In fact, he is talking to a person next to him. As I approach, that person looks like...is it?...NO!...IT CAN’T BE! ...OH FUCK!...IT’S JOLENE.
SHIT! One minute into my mission and I failed already. I walk as quickly as I can and position myself in front of the bitch.
“Hi Jolene, I’m Kiva” I sing as I put on my fake smile. Nice to meet you. I understand you’re fighting for the title. I just want to say that I wish you luck....And if you don’t mind,...I’m afraid you’re in my seat.”
The woman looks at me with a condescending smirk as she turns to Jake.
“Isn’t this the little sidekick Kelli brought with her tonight?”
“Yes,” he answered. “This is Kiva.”
“I see,” she snarks. “Nice to meet you, sweetie. But I sat down with Jake. You were never here, Love.”
“I know. I was talking to someone. But that seat was saved for me.”
“No, dear. There are no reserved seats here. It’s first come, first served. I was here first. Now please run along.”
I know Jolene is a tough skilled fighter I should not mess with. However, I am not backing down.
“I am not going anywhere,” I insisted. “Now please get out of my seat.”
The redhead is starting to look agitated.
“I thought I made myself clear,” her voice starting to rise, “what is it you don’t understand? You have interrupted our conversation. Now kindly disappear.”
Disappointingly, Jake seems content to let this play out, passively leaving it up to the women to settle it. Why isn’t he defending me? He needs to take SOME responsibility for himself. Finally, I drop the gauntlet.
“Jake,” I said as I direct my gaze toward him, “you decide. Which of us sits here next to you?”
He pauses for way too long.
“You know Kelli wanted me here tonight,” I added. “But the choice is yours. Does Jolene get this chair next to you. Or do I.” Jolene gives him a seductive “come hither” look while look askance at him.
Finally, he gives Jolene a rather abashed look and in an apologetic tone tells her, “Well,,,um...yeah...Kelli invited Kiva to be with us tonight...we were saving this seat...for her.”
Good Lord, Jake, I’m thinking. Do you think you could possibly say that with less conviction? Was it really that hard?
“I see,” Jolene responds. “You’re a gentleman. You’re a man of your word. I get it. In fact...I like that.” The temptress then adds, “We’ll continue our conversation...real soon.”
“And as for you, Missy.” she says in a cocky voice, “keep this seat warm for me. And don’t even think of getting in my way next time.”
Finally, the arrogant bitch slinks away as I breathe a huge sigh of relief. Jake and I make small talk for a few minutes. With Jolene out of the way, I can now relax and focus on Kelli’s fight. After winning the battle with the red headed slut, I need a drink.
“Jake, I’m going to the bar. Would you like me to get you something?”
“A rye with one large ice cube,” he answers.
“Got it.”
I order my wine first. “Here ya go, ma’am,” says the bartender, “Cabernet Sauvignon...and here’s Jake’s rye.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, “How did you know Jake wanted a rye? I didn’t order it yet.”
“Are you sure? Someone ordered it.”
“Jolene,” said the busy waitress. “She ordered it for Jake on her tab.”
Damn, this woman is fast. “I’ll get it to him. May I have a second rye?”
I know it’s not logical. I promised Jake a rye but I don’t want him to have Jolene’s gift so I buy him the same thing. I carry back my glass of wine and two glasses of rye. From behind the seats, I slip one of the ryes under my chair and pass the other to Jake before sitting down to sip my Cab. Finally, I settle in to watch the fights.
The current match is finished. The crowd roars as another triumphant woman waves around her defeated foe’s bikini while blowing kisses to the spectators. Behind her, another nude woman wearing nothing but a look of humiliation and shame skulks her way to the cage door. After all the bodies are cleared from the cage, the attendants mop the canvas in preparation for the next fight - Kelli’s fight.
I can’t help but feel tense and nervous. A spotlight shines in the back. Music plays. From out of the shadows emerges an intimidating dark skinned woman in a bright orange bikini. She is stocky, listed as 5’8” and 160 lbs. The crowd applauds as she lumbers her way to the cage. She is introduced by Billy as Danielle “MegaHurtz” Harris. As she enters the cage, the tough looking woman shakes her arms to loosen up.
“Shit, Jake. She’s huge. Did Kelli know that?” I ask as I nervously squeeze his arm.
The music starts again as the spotlight focuses on the back of the aisle. Into the light steps Kelli. With her camo bikini, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her, she waves and smiles to the cheering crowd. Wow! I thought, she looks...beautiful. Again, I briefly imagine myself in her position. A lump forms in my throat as I think that may be me one day.
I stand up on my chair, scream Kelli’s name and wave at her as she enters the cage. The chain link walls and metal pipe frame of the cage are foreboding. After Kelli enters, the ominous clang of the door slamming shut sends a chill through my body.
A thin Asian woman in a skimpy referee outfit brings the combatants together in the center of the cage to go over the rules. I know this fight ends with a submission or ten second pin. I can tell the two women are trash talking.
The bell rings and Kelly immediately charges into her larger opponent, slapping and punching. MegaHurtz backs up until Kelly drives her into the cage, pulling her head down, firing knees to the belly, furiously punching away at the lower back and flanks. The crowd erupts. I too am caught up in the frenzy.
“THAT’S IT, KELLI!....KICK HER ASS!....PUT HER AWAY!,” I scream, finding myself absorbing the crowd’s bloodlust. I’m incredibly charged up until I feel a hand tugging on my left arm.
“Excuse me...excuse me,” says a woman’s voice. “Are you Kiva?...Are you the nurse?”
I turn to see I’m being interrupted by a red headed woman. Jolene?...No, it’s not Jolene. It’s a different ginger I did not recognize. She’s wearing a waitress jacket. She’s thin but with a rough streetwise look about her.
“Yes, I’m Kiva.”
Her voice was frantic, even panic stricken. “We need you,” said her voice, rushed and breathless....A man collapsed in the restroom...He’s down...They can’t find a pulse...It’s that older gentleman you were talking to earlier...the general...They’re doing CPR...Someone said you’re a nurse...they need you immediately....HURRY!
THE GENERAL!...COLLAPSED?...GETTING CPR! OH MY GOD! I know he has a heart condition but that doesn’t blunt the shock. I fly out of my seat and run to the back of the building pushing my way through bodies. It took less than ten seconds to reach the Men’s restroom but it seemed like a thousand light years. I throw a shoulder block at the door.
I stumble in out of breath. I see tile, sinks, stand up urinals, toilet stalls. I expect to see pandemonium centered around a man lying on the floor. But I see...nothing of the sort. Fuck! Every second counts! He’s gotta be here. Frantic, I turn the corner, running past the stalls. Nothing! Confused and disoriented, I dash back to the sink area, my head turning in all directions. She did say the Men’s room. Was there some mistake?
In an outburst of desperation I scream out, “WHERE IS HE?....IS THERE A MAN DOWN IN HERE?” For the first time, I notice the stunned men at the sink and the ones standing relieving themselves. Their faces gradually change from looks of confusion to amusement, then to laughter. Then louder laughter.
“Holy shit!” said a voice from the stalls. “Do I hear a woman in here?” I’m approached by a second man emerging from a commode.
“I thought I heard a female voice,” he said with a grin. “Did you say you’re looking for a man to go down on in here? Well, look no further, honey. Here I am.” The restroom erupts with howls of male laughter.
“What in blazes?,” I hear a familiar voice ask. I look toward it to see a man zipping up his trousers as he turns from the urinal.
“General!...You’re okay!..Oh thank goodness.”
“KIVA!...What the HELL!...,” his stern voice scolding.
Sheepishly, I back up and could barely face the men, “Sorry guys, I think there was a mistake...You see, I’m a nurse and I was told...”
From behind me, an aged hand wraps around my eyes as the other hand pulls me by the arm.
“This is no place for you, young lady. There are sights in here an honest woman shouldn’t see.”
“General, let go,” I plead as he escorts me out of the restroom. “I’m a nurse. I’m used to seeing men pissing.”
“You’re coming with me,” he barks.
“Let go!”
“You’re sitting with me in the VIP section,” he informs as he takes me to an area of elevated cushioned seats.
“No, I’m not,” I protest. “I’m not a child.”
“No, but ya come here without your husband, flitting around like a five dollar floozy, trolloping in the Men’s room like a mule in heat... Dang women,” he starts, You can’t trust ‘em.”
“General, I don’t need a lecture,” I asserted.
“I’m calling your husband,” the old man threatens as he takes out his cell phone.
“No...DON’T”...I beg.
“Then sit down next to me so I can see that your behavin’ like a proper woman.”
“Oh brother!” I sigh as I sink in the chair in the “VIP section.” I notice several thin Asian women in sexy referee outfits seated around the general. I guess Billy knows how to please his best benefactors. Immediately, my mind scrambles to figure out a way to get back to Jake.
Finally, I turn my attention to the cage. Kelli is in complete control, holding the bigger woman down on the canvas as she delivers a series of slaps while screaming “bitch” and “cxnt”. Danielle looks battered and exhausted, her bikini top is nearly off, and her face is smeared with a mixture of makeup and tears.
“Looks like your friend Kelli is doing pretty well for herself for the moment,” the general observed, “but I still think she’ll be nekkid as a jaybird before it’s over.” Apparently, the general has no problem seeing naked women, but me seeing men urinate is a scandal.
As I briefly watch Kelli working over Danielle, I stretch my neck looking for Jake, I glimpse a head of red hair working her way to his area. I look again. Is it? Oh fuck,...it is her. Jolene....And she’s headed in Jake’s direction. I squirm in my chair.
“General, I have to pee,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll all right,” he replies. “I know what that’s like. At my age, my prostate is the size of a grapefruit. Just be back here in a few minutes, young lady or I’ll have to bring your husband in here to keep ya under control.”
“Sure will, sir,” I reply as I fly out of my seat.
Again, I weave my way through rows of chairs and aisles until I see Jake. What I saw as I approached him instantly sent me into a rage. My seat next to him was empty but the situation was far worse than before. Jolene was there...sitting...in...Jake’s...lap.
“Jolene, GET OUT!,” I scream at her.
With her arm around Jake’s neck and her legs crossed seductively, she gives me an arrogant smirk.
“Oh look, she’s back,” she sneers. “I thought you were a cheap skank, but really? Soliciting in the Men’s room? I didn’t know you were that low.”
Now I realize I was set up.
“How much did you pay that waitress to send me into the Men’s room, asshole,” I responded. “You can leave now, Jolene. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your fight?”
“Oh, I can get ready in seconds but thank you for asking,” the haughty bitch answered. “And what’s your problem?” She added. “You have your seat and I have mine. And I happen to think I have the best seat in the house,” she coos as her fingers provocatively run down the side of Jake’s face.
I’m now confronted with the fact that this whore has no intention of leaving. I take a deep breath and try to regroup. I barely notice the crowd noise has been picking up. Glancing at the cage, I see Kelli is locked in a rolling catball with the larger woman, and I’m feeling worried.
“Jolene, get your slutty ass out of here now,” I ordered.
“This is none of your business, honey,” she laughs. “Jake and I are consenting adults. If you don’t like it, you can fucking leave.”
She had a point. Why is Jake allowing this?
“You’re just causing trouble for yourself,” I shot back. “You don’t think Kelli is going to see what you’re doing?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think Kelli is seeing much of anything right now,” she laughs again as she points toward the cage. “Take a look.”
I turn toward the cage and gasp in abject horror. Kelli is pinned on her back with Danielle’s ample ass on her chest. Her face is wedged between the chubby woman’s thighs, her arms held down to the mat, her legs awkwardly bent against the cage fence.
“One...Two,” the referee shouts.
I begin to panic.
“Three...Four.”
“COME ON KELLI, GET UP. YOU CAN DO IT” I scream. My exhortation lacks confidence.
“Five...Six.”
The full weight of harsh reality sinks in. Kelli is trapped, plastered onto the mat. Her opponent is too big, too heavy. I watch her buck in futility. I see her feet scrambling frantically, then trying to climb up the chain link face. I can tell Danielle is trash talking and taunting her. My stomach drops.
“Seven....Eight.” The spectators count along. Danielle has folded one of Kelli’s legs leaving my friend’s body twisted and I know she’s in pain.
Jolene is holding up her fingers with each count, a wide grin on her face. Jake has a solemn look of concern. But he’s still letting the slut sit on his lap as his wife is being counted out. Jolene is clearly enjoying this.
I’m overwhelmed by the cruelty of it all. Kelli is on the verge of defeat, her camo bikini to be claimed by her conqueror, her nude body will be on display for all, like a vanquished queen forced to suffer ignominy and humiliation in front of the masses. Then comes the lonely walk of shame out of the cage, the exposed woman enduring the jeers, laughter, scorn, lewd insults. Then the final indignity: Jolene seducing her husband. I feel sick.
I am also defeated. Jolene outmaneuvered me in a game of chess, to claim her prized king. I failed Kelli. I failed myself. I almost want to congratulate the redhead. My heart sinks, I actually feel like I might faint. I cannot bear to hear the final count proclaiming Kelli’s demise. I wrap my arms around my head. I cover my ears in total helplessness.
“Nine”
The count is faint and muffled but I hear it. And then...loud cheers. I know it’s over. I don’t need to see the guillotine blade fall to know the execution is over. There’s a new lump in my throat and a knot in my chest. After a few seconds, I know I must face the cold reality. I open my eyes and I see...the fight is still going on. Kelli is free. Both women are scrambling to their feet to face off again.
“Jake, what happened?” I asked with a sense of confusion.
“She pushed off the pole and kicked out at nine,” he explained.
I take a deep breath. I feel relieved but I know Kelli may still lose. But I also get another chance.
“Jolene, get out now,” I bark with more resolve.
“Are you going to shut up or do I have to shut you up?” she coldly asks.
Then I remembered. I took the glass of rye she bought for Jake from under the seat.
Turning toward Jolene, I growl, “By the way, here’s the drink you bought. You either leave now or you will be wearing this drink on your blouse.”
The slutty ginger rose to her feet and approached me until she entered my space.
“You little twat. If you throw that drink at me, dear, that will be the sorriest mistake of your life” she threatened.
We stood chest to chest, our eyes giving each other poisonous stairs. I know I’m probably overmatched but I’m not backing down. Regardless of what happens to Kelli in the cage, I’m going to do my part to get this cxnt away from Jake.
“Jolene,” a male voice calls, interrupting the confrontation. It’s Billy. “Save it for the championship fight. You’re up next. Get ready now.”
She waves a finger in my face. “This isn’t over,” she snarls. “One last warning. Stay out of my business or you’re going to end up one sad little girl. Understand?”
Jolene turns and heads for the dressing room. I breathe a sigh of relief as I sink into my seat next to Jake.
“Are you all right?” he asks. “You got some fighting attitude.”
“I’m fine.”
I notice he has pitched a tent in his pants, his formidable pole propping up the denim of his jeans. I shake my head and give him a look of disapproval. My eyes say, “Really, Jake?” He receives the message.
“She was quick,” he says with an embarrassed shrug.
I’ve seen very little of the fight so far. Finally, I can now settle in and at least watch the end. I see Kelli is in control again, backing her woman up against the cage, firing blows to the belly. Danielle looks like she’s out of gas and I’m confident now Kelli will win. With the distractions gone, I can now watch intently.
Distractions...Oh FUCK!...The general...I forgot...He’s thinks I’ve been in the Ladies’ room.
“Excuse me, Jake. I’ll be right back.”
I scurry back to the “VIP section”, where the general is surrounded by his bevy of cute thin Asian women while saving my seat next to him.
“That was a long potty break, young lady,” he cackles.
“Sorry, general. Maybe it was that back bean and rice burrito.”
“Well now, sit down here and watch the rest of fight before I tell your husband he needs to put you on a shorter leash. I know how married womenfolk are. Once they get out of the house alone, they have trouble controlling themselves.”
Unbelievable. I really need to get out of here.
“General, can I make a deal with you?,” I propose. “It’s extremely important that I talk to Jake. See, he’s down there in front of the cage. I’ll be next to him the whole time. I won’t leave his side. I promise.”
“Well now,” the raspy elder voice replies, “I don’t mind turning guardianship of ya over to Jake. His woman is preoccupied at the moment so don’t get any funny ideas.”
“I won’t sir.”
“Jake’s an honorable man,” he says, “I know he won’t fall for any wanton woman’s advances.”
“I agree sir.” Geez, how long did my nose just grow?
“I’ll be watchin, if I see ya can’t keep yer hands to yourself, yer hubby’s getting a full report from the general.”
“Deal, sir.”
The crowd noise rises as I head back toward Jake’s area. I’m watching the fight as I walk. Danielle looks just about finished as Kelli digs her hands into the unfortunate woman’s big tits before delivering a knee to the crotch. Someone tugs my arm.
“Excuse me, miss? I heard you tell the general you’re going to see Jake.” It was one of the Asian beauties in a sexy referee outfit. “Um, which one is Jake.”
“Why,” I ask.
“Um, I have a note for him. I’m a locker room attendant and Miss Jolene told me to give this to him,” she explains holding a little card envelope addressed to “Jake” with a little smiley face. Cute.
“Oh, in that case, I can give it to him.”
“Well, I was told only Jake may have it.”
“No worries,” I tell her. “I’m Jake’s wife. We’re really good friends with Jolene. We’re all going out dancing after the fights. Jolene is telling us where to meet. I can take the note. It’s okay.”
“Well...alright then,” she says as she hands me the card.
“Don’t go away yet,” I instruct.
I quickly rip open the envelope and pull out the card and read:
Hey Handsome,
Ditch the skank sitting next to you and come to my dressing room.
I have a nice surprise for you,
I’m waiting,
J
I took a pen from my handbag and scrolled beneath her message:
Leave me alone.
I’m happily married.
Jake
I stuff the card back in the envelope and instruct the attendant to return it to the bitch. I’m sure she’ll know it’s me but I’m satisfied she’ll know I won this round.
As I restart my journey back to my rightful seat, I see Paige and the red headed waitress that sent me into the Men’s room. I stop. The waitress and I engage in a staring contest for several seconds before she flips me her middle finger. I respond by sliding my index finger across my neck in a cutthroat gesture, then move on.
“Everything okay?” Jake asks as I take my place next to him.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Jake, who is that redhead waitress?”
“Her name is Ginger,” he explains. “She’s one of Billy’s girls if you know what I mean.”
“Hmmmmm”
In the cage, Kelli is dragging Danielle by the hair to the center, finally dumping her on the canvas. Kelli is clearly in the zone, verbally threatening the woman with more punishment before unceremoniously pinning her by placing her foot on the afflicted woman’s face. MegaHurtz is a total mess of bruises, scratches, red marks, smeared makeup and tears. She starts to resist for a second, then lets her arms fall limp in submission.
The crowd goes nuts as the petite Asian referee counts. I feel a massive burden lifted. Kelli will win. Jolene is not here. I see Jake’s boner has returned but I’m sure this one was inspired by Kelli. I know he will be with her shortly. This evening was exhausting but ended well. I’m finally relaxed. But then...OH...MY...GOD,...IT...CAN’T...BE!
Across the cage, in the crowd, I see a group of men. The sight of one particular man chills my blood. Perhaps I’m mistaken...No...that face, that dirty blond hair....And that shirt!..I bought it for him!...That posture...I’m not mistaken!...It’s my..fucking husband...What the FUCK!...TOM IS HERE!...WHAT THE FUCK IS MY HUSBAND DOING HERE?
The referee counts “Ten”, as the crowd roars. I give Jake a hug as he prepares to rejoin his triumphant wife.
“Jake, I have to run. There’s some issue I have to deal with.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. Tell Kelli I said congrats and I’ll call her.”
I work my way to the other side of the cage and approach my husband from behind, tapping his shoulder.
“KIVA!” he gasps. “What are doing here?” He looks shocked.
“Didn’t the general call you?”
“The general?”
“You mean you came here on your own? To watch fights? Is that what you did?” I grilled. He was silent.
“Fuck, Tom, you lied. You said you had a business meeting with the robotics manufacturer. You lied. You lied. You...FUCKING LIED!...And who are these guys you are with?”
“Just some guys I met at a meet up group,” he answers matter of factly.
“A meet up group for what? Catfight fans?...Real classy.”
“About as classy as wrestling topless in a sand bunker,” he shoots back.
“Fuck you, Tom. You know that was a private matter. I partly did it for you so you could buy your robot...So how many other times have you been here?”
“Just one other time,” he answers.
“And you never planned to tell me?”
“I would have.”
My interrogation continued. “Do you have catfight videos hiding under the floor boards?”
“Just a few.”
“This is fucking unbelievable. You think you know the person you married, then....THIS!...FUCK!...Why did you act disinterested.”
“I didn’t want you getting hurt,” he replied.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your fetish before?”
“I was afraid you’d think I’m weird.”
“But you thought it was okay to lie.”
I’m starting to feel relieved. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. With my husband now out of the closet, the door is now open for us to pursue our interests together. I felt my anger quell. As I reached to take his hand, the bouncer approached us and turned toward my husband.
“Time to pay up, cowboy. That will be a hundred bucks,” said the large heavily muscled man.
With confusion, I watched my husband hand over five twenty dollar bills.
“Sorry your girl lost,” said the bouncer as he pocketed the cash.
“What?...Tom, what was that ab-. Did you bet?....Did you....WHAT THE FUCK!..You bet, didn’t you?...You....HOLY SHIT!....YOU BET AGAINST KELLI!
“Um..,” he stuttered. “The guys and I were just having a little fun. It didn’t mean anything.”
“DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING?” I shouted. “You bet against my friend? You play golf with Jake and you bet against his wife. UGH...I am so OUTTA HERE,” I scream.
I head for the door as Tom follows. The crowd noise picks up again as Jolene’s title fight gets underway. Outside, the crisp night air contrasts with the smoky environment inside.
“Wait,” my husband implores as I keep walking. “Kiva...STOP!”
“If you have something more to say, say it,” as I turn around. “But make it quick. I wanna go home.”
“Damn right I’ll say it. It’s my turn now,” he begins as we’re both standing in the parking lot. “You called me a liar? Well Miss Pot, meet Mr. Kettle. Some career night, my dear. Or is this the career you’re selling to high school girls? Do you expect me to trust you now when you say you’re going somewhere for the evening?”
“I was planning to tell you,” I countered.
“But you didn’t,” he retorted.
“It’s not the same thing,” I insisted.
“Oh no?”
“I’m done talking.” I state firmly as I start walking again.
“And one more thing,” he adds.
“Stop,” I said, “LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“No, you’re going to hear it,” he insisted.
“Dammit Tom, WHAT IS IT?”
He pauses...”Nice knockout of Freda,” he whispers.
Stunned, I can barely gasp out, “You...you knew?”
“Of course I knew,” he answered. “Kyong joined the website. The general found your video.“
“You know about the website too?” My knees felt week.
“And the catpin deal.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Any other fights I don’t know about?” he asks.
“No, that’s all.”
“How much longer did you think you could live this double life?” He added. “Hey, I’m glad you beat Freda. She’s our worst resident. But that’s a hell of a thing to not tell your spouse.”
“I know...” I murmured, my eyes turned down to the blacktop....“It was....wrong.”
Our discussion lasts another twenty minutes. The Jolene fight is over and much of the crowd files out.
“There he is,” grunts the general as he passes. “You need to keep a close eye on that one, Tom. She’s a live wire.”
We move closer toward the back of the building to finish our talk in privacy. We vow to not hide anymore secrets. We both understand that I like to fight and he likes to watch fights. He will be at my fights as much as possible. I will immediately share with him any fights involving catpins where he is not present. I will quit fighting anytime he says so. As for betting against Kelli, he’s not quite off the hook for that one. I guess you could say we both had our day of reckoning.
“You know, Tom,” I tell him. “This has been a hell of a night. There’s only one way to top it off.”
“Oh?” He wonders.
“I need to kick somebody’s ass. Let’s go back inside.”
Many spectators are filing out as the fight card is completed and I re-enter the building. Someone needs to pay for my trouble tonight. I’m not ready yet for Jolene. Maybe not Paige. But something tells me one bitch is ready for her day of reckoning. I have Tom wait at a table as I storm my way to the bar
“Where’s Ginger?” I demand from the staff. “Where is she? “WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?”
“Try Billy’s office,” said one of the waitresses. “It’s in the back.”
I dart past the kitchen behind the bar, past a storeroom, to a closed door. I barge in to find the large bald man sitting at a desk, the red headed bitch, wearing only pink panties, sitting on his lap as the two are engaged in an intense lip lock.
“What the FUCK!” she screams at me. Get the FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
I do not move.
“So are you done giving blow jobs in the Men’s room?” Are you looking for more?” she jeers. “Well, this one’s mine. GET LOST!”
I stand at the doorway with my hands on my hips, studying the nearly nude woman. She is young, appearing to be in her mid twenties. She is a fair skinned redhead but has a gritty streetwise look to her. She’s about 5’8” but thin, about 120 lbs. Her breasts are small, definite A cups. Hung over a chair is a black leather biker type of jacket. Fixed to the jacket is...the catpin. Shit, I thought, this woman fights. I hesitate for a moment,...then,...I issue the challenge.
“You and me in the cage, now.”
She glares back at me. “Are you challenging me to a fight?”
“You heard that right.”
“I don’t believe we met,” the big man interjects, “I’m Billy.”
“My name is Kiva.”
“Nice to meet ya, darlin’,” he answers. “But next time please knock”
“She’s the loser who came in with Kelli,” Ginger adds. “She’s been sticking her nose in Jolene’s business. I’d be happy to give her a good ass kicking.”
“Look ladies, the show is over. Folks are leaving. I can book you for next card,” Billy suggests.
“I don’t want a show,” I reply. “I want to use your cage tonight.”
“Well now, then, that’s up to Ginger,” says the club owner.
“I’m gonna eat her alive,” the redhead threatens as she eyes me up and down. “She don’t look like much.”
“Let me go salvage what’s left of the crowd. I’ll get a referee,” Billy tells us. “Ya got a bikini, darlin’?”
“No, but I got a bra and panties underneath my blouse and slacks I explain.”
“Good enough. Ginger, what about you?”
“You broke my bra, Billy, when you pulled it off. But fuck it, I’ll just wear panties,” the skank answered. “Do I get a bonus for this?”
“A hundred bucks,” he answers. “And if you win, ya get a special prize which will be delivered to ya personally by yours truly.”
“Meet me at the cage, bitch,” Ginger hisses.
I meet Tom back in the bar area and tell him I have a fight. His response, understandably is a mix of excitement and concern. I begin stripping on the floor of the club placing my earrings, necklace, bracelets, and wedding ring in my handbag. I hand my husband my outer garments until I’m left in a white bra and cotton panties. Ginger is already in the cage in her pink lacy brief. Billy enters the cage and motions for me to do the same. The eerie clang of the cage door doesn’t seem to creep me out like I expected. I don’t feel the fear like I thought I would. Maybe this is what “being in the zone” means. Only half the crowd is left. Some people who headed for the door return to their seats. I don’t see Kelli and Jake and I presume they left. A Latina referee agrees to officiate.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Billy announces. “We have an add on fight for this evening. In this corner, weighing 120 lbs, Billy’s own,...Ginger Thomas. A robust applause fills the air as the woman is well known in this establishment.
“In this corner, weighing 128 lbs, making her first appearance at Billy’s,...um...Kiva.” I only elicit faint applause as Billy tries to remember my last name which I never told him.
So this is what it’s like, I thought. In a cage. Under the lights. Standing across from another woman. About to battle in public. Her body against mine. Jubilation and humiliation on the line. I block it all out of my mind. This is no time for butterflies and fear.
“The rules for this fight are....NO HOLDS BARRED.” The crowd roars its approval. “The match ends by submission or knock out.”
WHAT? I didn’t agree to that. Ginger slyly smirks at me from across the cage. FUCK! I got set up again. Kelli wasn’t kidding. Billy is a douchebag.
The bell rings as the referee motions for us to start the fight. I’m determined to start aggressively, unlike my first two fights. I think no holds barred will be to my advantage since my trainer thinks I’m a good striker. She’s an inch taller but I think I’m stronger.
I come out with a boxer’s stance with my hands up high. Ginger is in a neutral stance. She can tell I intend to strike so her hands are high and she moves laterally side to side hoping I’ll swing and miss giving her a chance to counter. The remaining crowd seems to be Billy’s regulars and they are solidly for Ginger. I hear, “get her Ginger,” “kick her ass,” and “strip her naked.” Oddly, I’m not afraid.
I stalk her around the cage. I jab at her to set up my right hand. The skanky redhead keeps her distance keeping away from my jab. She slips under my jabs, then shoots low for my leg but I kick her away, staying upright. A few jabs graze her as she avoids substantial blows.
Finally, I abandon the boxer’s stance, lower my shoulder and rush at her. It worked. I wrap my arms around her waist and drive her back into the cage. She wraps her arms around mine and we hold each other but I keep her back to the cage. I fire knees upward partially striking her hips. I kick at her legs and sense she’s losing her stability. She lunges for my hair, pulled up in a ponytail, and prevents herself from falling. I grab on to her red locks. The two of us have handfuls of each other’s hair but I have the advantage. She’s till trapped against the cage and I’m still driving my knees at her.
Her hands release the grip on my hair. I feel her fingers run down my forehead, until her fingertips poke both of my eyes.
Fuck! I stumble around blindly, trying to massage the pain from my eyes. I do not see her knee driving into my crotch, into my womanhood, as I drop to my knees. Damn! This woman is a very dirty fighter.
I fall on all fours and can see nothing, the pain sears down below. I have no idea where Ginger is. Then, I feel her legs around my waist as she mounts my back. Her fingers probe my face from behind and each index finger inserts into my mouth pulling back into a double fish hook. My mouth feels like it’s being ripped apart as my lips are pulled beyond what I thought was even possible. I never considered this hold. The pain is excruciating. I can’t imagine how grotesque my face looks.
Trying to buck her off is futile. There is no chance of prying her fingers off. I’m trying not to panic. The referee asks for a submission. I refuse. I grab on to her right wrist. I dig my thumb into the wrist just beneath the heel of her hand. I locate her median nerve, then dig into it with my thumb. The median nerve supplies the muscles of the forearm and thumb and supplies sensation to part of the hand. Pressure on the median nerve can cause pain, weakness and numbness in the hand. I dig my thumb in with everything I got. I feel her grip loosening. The tension on the right side of my mouth lessens. I can move my jaw slightly, just enough to line up my molars with her finger, then...CHOMP!
She releases the fish hooks immediately as she lets out a scream, then dismounts me.
“Fuckin dirty cxnt,” she shouts.
I scramble to my feet. I know my lipstick is smeared across my face. I must look like Heath Ledger’s version of the Joker. I have enough eyesight back to find Ginger trying to shake the pain from her hand.
We lock up and I drive her back again into the cage. Now that I know she fights dirty, I take extra precautions. I flick a few jabs at her face. I take a step back and measure her with my arms, then, throw a big right hook to the ribs. She is clearly in pain. Following my trainer’s lessons, I set her up with more jabs to the head. She appears helpless like a desperate boxer on the ropes. After a third jab, I fire my right hook to the jaw.
The barmaid, stumbles forward. I push her away. She staggers a few steps, spins, then falls forward, crashing face down on the mat. The referee waives me off, stopping the fight, calling for the bell.
The fight seemed long but lasted less than two minutes. The crowd gives me a hearty applause. Ginger rolls onto her back, looks awake, and is answering the referee’s questions. The crowd begins a chant, “strip her naked, strip her naked.”
As a nurse, it’s not my nature to add further insult on an injured opponent. I try to ignore the crowd. I’m about to help Ginger to her feet. Then I remember the cruel trick she played, flipping me the middle finger, the complete disrespect. Now there she is, on the mat, defeated, her flat chest with the puffy pink nipples pointing at the lights.
“Fucking cxnt”, she grumbles again, as she spit a disgusting piece of phlegm onto my leg.
I bend over, lift up her hips, then grab on to the back of her panties. For a second, I decide to let her be. Then I think of an old John Wayne movie, I think it was “McLintock.” In a parody of an iconic scene where The Duke held an unfortunate varmint by the collar and threatened to belt him in the mouth, I tell Ginger:
“Pilgrim, you caused a lot of trouble around here today. Somebody ought to strip off your panties and leave you butt naked. But it won’t be me. I won’t do it...No, I won’t do it........THE HELL I WON’T...RIP!
“Consider this your day of reckoning,” I added.
I wave to the crowd and experience my first time standing under the lights victorious. There really is nothing quite like it. I leave the cage with my first “trophy.” My own bra and panties remain intact. Just outside the cage, I exchange stares with Jolene and Paige one last time. Tom hands me my clothes but I just want to leave. I’ll get changed in my car. As I head toward the exit, I pass Billy.
“Do I get paid for this?” I ask.
“No, sugar,” he responds. “You picked a fight on your own. You and I never talked business. I just let you use my cage....But, since you put on a good show, here’s ten bucks. That makes it half price cover charge. Pretty good deal, don’t ya think?”
Is he kidding?
“And,”....he adds, “here’s my card.”
It’s been a week since my first cage fight. My catpin should be arriving in the mail any day now. The burden of secrecy has been lifted from my husband and I and things couldn’t be better. I’m not sure what’s next for my fighting career. I do know that there may still be some unfinished business. I take out the card.
“Hello, Billy,...it’s Kiva...Yes, we met last week....Are we ready to talk business now?”
For details of the Kelli-Danielle cage fight, see Fyre’s Fight Journal, Ch 23, Pride and Paychecks
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=78153.90
