Well, it's been quite a while. You might want to read Part 1 to get reacquainted with this story. Next chapter is "Travel Nurse" which I think you will enjoy.
Chapter 14: I Hope You Dance (Part 2)
I sit stunned at the surreal spectacle of my niece in a green bikini facing off with another young woman. I wish I was anywhere else but here. I am so transfixed that I don’t even blink my eyes. Why is Stacy so foolish and obstinate? She’s an adult now, at least legally, although she is still too young to buy alcohol. Yet, I hear my brother’s voice saying the same words he said many years ago when I first babysat her, “She’s in your hands Kiva, take good care of her.” I tell myself that what happens will happen and I must be prepared to deal with it.
The women circle each other in what look like slow motion. At first, I thought it was an illusion created by my anxiety, as if I am having an out of body experience and watching the world in some dream-like trance. But no, they really are moving slowly and cautiously, their arms up at chest level, their fingers extended, like two amateur wrestlers reluctant to make the first move. I had advised Stacy to start out defensively, worried she would begin with a reckless opening disaster. However, I am slightly surprised Advika with her experience advantage is showing Stacy considerable respect. Uma had said Advika lost her confidence and she looks it.
The Doshis sense this as well, raising their voices in support of Advika, calling out variations of “Come on, Advika, you got her.”
Instinctively, I respond, powering my lone voice over theirs, “Go Stacy, you can take her!’
Suddenly, my ear drum is pierced by a loud male shriek from someone by my side. “Yeah, Stacy. Do it baby. Show her who’s boss!” I turn toward Travis with my meanest killer glare, my silent expression of “shut the fuck up.” Why did Stacy bring this guy?
The fighters pick up the pace, perhaps feeling the pressure of their family support. They circle each other with more intensity, paw at each other, jab and feint, throwing a few preliminary slaps. Finally, the first real punch is thrown. It was Stacy, her fist shooting out like a bullet, aiming for Advika's stomach. Advika is ready, though, and she deftly blocks the blow with her forearm, countering with a swift kick that barely grazes Stacy's side. It appears the real fight has begun, and the Doshis leans in, their breaths bated. Stacy's inexperience shows in her wild, uncontrolled movements, while Advika's has some savvy allowing her to anticipate and evade with grace. It’s Advika that looks more comfortable and in control, peppering Stacy with purposeful calculated slaps and light punches.
Advika, the more experienced fighter, seems to toy with Stacy, her movements fluid, she appears to have lost her pre-fight anxieties. She taunts my niece her with feigned openings that lead to swift, painful looking jabs. Stacy stumbles, her legs trembling, but she doesn’t go down. Instead, her face seemed more focused and angrier, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. She collects herself and drives her body into Advika, fists flying with newfound speed, propelled by a burning desire to prove herself.
Suddenly, Advika's smug smile falters as Stacy's fist connects with her cheek, sending her reeling. The Doshis let out a collective gasp. I know she feels a surge of adrenaline as she tries to capitalize on this moment. She lunges forward, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks, driving Advika back. The fighters grab onto each other, spinning around and crashing into a wall, screaming and grunting as they furiously exchange blows that seem increasingly wild.
Finally, they throw their bodies at each other, chests clashing, arms grabbing, feet kicking and tripping at each other’s legs. The pair of late teeners stumble together, twist, turn, then crash to the carpet, holding on to each other. They roll on the floor, struggling for control, wrestling and slapping. The Doshis and I escalate our shouts as the female combatant’s grunt and scream. Now we have a fight.
The fight is no longer a technical contest but a storm of fists and legs, each trying to overpower the other. Advika's experience maintains her control, but Stacy's raw tenacity keeps her in the fight. It is apparent to me that Advika is the better fighter due her training and experience, but so far, I’m impressed with Stacy’s fiery spirit. Across the room, I notice Uma's knuckles looking tense as she clutches the chair's armrests, watching intently at every strike her daughter takes and delivers.
Advika manages to pin Stacy face down to the ground, her knee pressing into the small of her back. Stacy's arms flail wildly, trying to break free, her eyes searching for an escape. But Advika is relentless, her grip tightening as she reaches for Stacy's arm, trying to bend it back in a painful lock. Stacy grits her teeth, undoubtedly feeling the stretch in her shoulder as panic starts to claw at her.
My voice tries to cut through the chaos, "Come on, Stacy! You can do this!" With a cry, Stacy lifts her chest with her free arm and twists her body, throwing Advika off balance. They roll again, and this time, it is Stacy who comes out on top, her knee now pressing down on Advika's chest.
The advantage is short lived. Advika reaches up, seizes Stacy’s hair and pushes my niece on her back, ending up on top. I notice myself hyperventilating. I have no idea how Stacy will react and I’m fully aware the fight could end quickly. Fortunately, Stacy has her legs wrapped around her attacker’s waist, staving off further threats for now. Maybe Stacy really did learn some jiu-jitsu as she claimed. The Doshi’s cries of “put her away” gives me a chill. I call out to Stacy, “That’s it, honey, she can’t touch you!”
A few seconds later, Stacy twists her body, holding Advika between her thighs, disposing her to the floor. Stacy releases her, then rolls away. springing to her feet. I breath a huge sigh of relief – for now. Stacy passed her first test, but who knows what’s next? This fight will seriously stress me out.
Advika also rises from the floor and the young women face off on their feet again. This time, there is none of the caution they showed at the beginning of the fight. They move in at close range, throwing slaps and punches. Advika seems a little quicker, landing more slaps to the face. But Stacy stands her ground and seems to have found her rhythm, her punches now landing with better precision. Advika's head snaps back, and I think I see a trickle of blood seeping from her nose. Stacy quicky moves in, wrapping her arm around Advika’s neck and pulling her head down to her waist in a headlock.
With a sudden twist, Advika sweeps her right hand upward and swipes it across Stacy's face. I see Stacy release her hold and stagger backward, holding her left eye. Fuck! I think she may have caught Stacy in the left eye. I see Stacy blinking and stumbling, giving Advika the opening she needed. A hard slap to the right side of the face turns Stacy’s head to the right, whipping her ponytail. Stacy is disoriented and vulnerable. Advika's swings her left hand, and I see Stacy react by turning her head to the side.
A terrifying scream of pain sends a shiver down my spine. Who? What? Stacy and Advika are standing. Stacy looks confused. Advika is wailing in pain. Something is clearly wrong with her. The Doshis are silent, concerned and confused. I have no idea what happened. I approach the fighters. Advika is now bent over, her right hand is cupping her left one. Her face is anguished as tears run down her face. The Doshis now approach. “Advika?” I ask as I place my hand on her shoulder, summoning my professional calmness.
“My hand!” she moans. “Something happened to my hand.” I take her left hand and observe the left little finger angulated in an abnormal grotesque angle.
“You have a dislocated finger,” I explain.
“She hit me on the top of the head,” Stacy adds. “She didn’t have a tight fist and her finger jammed.”
“Stacy, get the cold packs from my bag,” I direct her. “Ishita, is there ice in the house?”
“Yes,” she answers, “the refrigerator and ice maker are operating. I’ll get some ice.”
I sit Advika’s bikini clad body onto a chair and tell her to keep her hand raised. I apply cold packs to the finger and then ice wrap it in wet towels. I direct Uma to hold the ice for fifteen minutes. Advika’s aunt Damini, Grandmother Ishita, and some of her aunts, uncles and cousins gathers around her, giving her kisses and pats on the shoulder. I know she is horribly disappointed, but right now, the priority is the finger.
Commendably, my niece offers Advika her support and sympathy. I’m sure she is happy to win her first fight. I’m happy she is showing class and sportsmanship with her injured opponent. “Aunt Kiva, is she going to be okay?”
“Yes,” I answer. “But this fight is over. And by the way, you have some swelling around your left eye. Get some ice on it.”
After fifteen minutes, I re-examine Advika’s hand. Inevitably, there is finger swelling. “Now what?” Uma asks.
“I am going to reset the finger.” I surmise that the procedure shouldn’t be too difficult. I won’t lie to Advika. There will be pain.
“Advika, let me have your hand,” I ask. Gingerly, she places her left hand in my palm. “Bite down on this towel.” I squeeze the base of her deformed left little finger with my left index finger and thumb. Then I take hold of the middle part of her finger with my right hand. Quickly and smoothly as possible, I pull on the finger, applying axial traction until I feel the displaced middle bone slide into the proximal bone where it belongs, generating a popping sensation. Advika shrieks.
“Done, sweetie. You did great,” I tell her.
Advika’s facial expression of pain transforms into a smile as she now opens and closes all of her fingers. “Look,” she says happily. “I can move it again. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Kiva,” says Uma.
“We’re not done yet,” I explain. “You will continue to have swelling. You will need to apply ice packs every 2-3 hours for fifteen minutes at a time. Keep this hand elevated as much as possible. At night, keep it propped up on a pillow. I will get you into the Orthopedic clinic on Monday. They will follow up with you and check an X-ray to confirm everything is OK. I don’t have a splint here, so I’m going to tape your little finger to your fourth finger temporarily. We call it a buddy splint.”
The Doshis gather around as I carry out the taping procedure. “There, all done!” I tell Advika. “This will take at least two weeks to heal completely. Limit use of the hand during that time.” With those words, I notice a look of sadness in Advika’s face.
A sense of relief washes over me. My anxiety is gone. The fight was short, ending with an unfortunate minor injury. I can go home and forget about this silly incident. In a few days, Stacy will fly back east, and my life will be normal again. I recall with amusement my first night babysitting Stacy.
What was I worried about? This is so easy. Stacy played for little while, then fell asleep. She’s in her crib. I’ll sit on the sofa the rest of the evening and watch television. This is the easiest money I ever made. Now where are those snacks?…Wait! What was that sound? It’s coming from the baby monitor. Oh shit! It’s Stacy. She’s awake again.
“Aunt Kiva,” Stacy asks, “may I speak with you alone?”
“So, what happens now?” Stacy inquires as we head to our corner of the arena. “When do we get to finish the fight?”
“Finish the fight?” I ask incredulously. “The fight is over. You won. Congratulations, honey. You won your first fight. Let’s go out to dinner and celebrate. Let’s pack up your stuff and go home.”
“But…I don’t feel like I won. She hurt herself by accident and had to quit.”
“Yes,” I reply. “That is called losing a fight. I know it is not satisfying to either of you, but that’s how it goes. There are no time-outs in a fight. You won. Take it and let’s get out of here.”
“But it’s not how I wanted to win. I didn’t prove anything.”
“That’s life,” I tell her. “Things don’t always go as we expected. If you want to fight again, go home, train properly, find a suitable opponent.”
“But I’m here now.”
We both look over at the Doshis. Advika remains seated, sobbing uncontrollably while her mother, aunts, grandmother and extended family members try to console her. I have no reason to dislike the Doshis. I know Advika feels miserable and that she failed her family. Her confidence was already low. Perhaps fighting is not for her. My hope is that she will move on, find her talent and get her self-esteem back.
“Aunt Kiva, I want to talk to Advika before we go. Travis, wait here with Aunt Kiva. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Travis…ugh!
I gather up Stacy’s stuff as Travis awkwardly attempts small talk with me. “Wow, you’re a nurse,” he begins to ramble. “I think that’s really hot, uh, I mean awesome. I mean, what you just did was amazing. I would let you squeeze and pull on me like that anytime.” I look at him like I’m about to take his fucking head off.
I see Stacy chatting with Advika and Uma while several other Doshis stand and listen. Finally, my niece scampers back to me.
“Aunt Kiva,” she tells me. “I’m giving Advika a rematch.”
“No, you are not. You are going home in two days. Her finger won’t be healed by then.”
“We are going to fight again now,” she explains. “Advika says she feels better. She wants to try it. She’ll keep the fingers taped”
“Absolutely not! The swelling will get worse. There’s a possibility of interrupted blood flow and nerve damage. She needs to rest the hand and see the Orthopedic doctors.”
Uma and Advika approach us. “Kiva, my daughter wants to fight again. I told her that we do not approve. I’m sure you do not either. Both girls are being stubborn.”
"Advika," she addresses her daughter, her voice gentle but firm, "you're hurt. You don't have to do this."
Advika looks at her mother, her own determination unwavering. "I know, Mom," she said, "but I can't just quit. Not now. I’ll be careful, but I have to finish this.”
“We are both adults,” Stacy protests. “We will take responsibility for our decision. We are not children anymore.” I sigh. Where have I heard that before? Repeating my medical concerns is of no avail.
“Look at her finger. Look at your eye,” I tried to reason.
“I’m fine,” insisted Stacy. “And Advika can fight again if she wants to.’
“They are right, Kiva,” Uma says. “Sometimes we have to let our adult children make decisions we don’t agree with. A second chance would mean a lot to Advika and your niece is very gracious. We can’t force them to do what we think is the right thing. If they choose to fight again now, all we can do is our best to intervene if we think one of them could get seriously hurt.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pennington. I like that plan,” Stacy chimes in.
“Me too,” says Advika.
“I don’t like this idea,” I tell them. “If you’re going to fight again, we will stop the fight if Advika is in pain or we see the finger risking further injury.
“I agree,” says Advika.
“I agree,” Stacy adds.
“I agree as well,” Uma joins.
“So,” Stacy adds, “Give us fifteen minutes to loosen up again and we’ll start fight number two.”
I groan again. This week with Stacy has aged me at least a decade. The fighters go to their respective corners of the room and do their warm up exercises, Stacy in her bikini has Travis rubbing her down. I cringe and look away. The Doshis retake their positions on Advika’s side of the room as Ishita calls the fighters to the center.
“Ready ladies,” Ishita says. “Fight.”
Stacy and Advika circle each other again, this time their movements exude more speed and confidence than in their first encounter. I quickly notice Advika protecting her left hand by keeping her right shoulder pointed at Stacy, jabbing with her right hand like a left-handed boxer. Her injured left hand is down by her hip. Clearly, she is at a disadvantage. Stacy seems to notice this as well as she circles to Advika’s left, making herself a difficult target.
Stacy jabs back and lands some hard slaps. She fakes a few leg grab attempts, making Advika back up. Stacy, now the aggressor, dances around her, feinting and dodging with a grace that belied her inexperience. Her fists connected with Advika's ribs, her kicks strike the thighs, each hit looks hard and I see Advika wince and grit her teeth.
Finally, my niece shoots in, tackling her opponent at the waist, taking her down. I notice Advika break the fall with her left elbow, sparing trauma to the left hand. The two young ladies wrestle on the carpet, with Stacy taking the advantage. A moment later I see Stacy straddling Advika, her hands pinning Advika's wrists to the floor, her knees pressing into her opponent's arms to keep her immobile.
Advika's body tenses with the effort to break free, but Stacy's grip looks strong. With a snarl, she leans down, her teeth bared like a feral cat. "You're not going anywhere," she hisses, her voice low and menacing. Advika's face contorts in pain and anger. Stacy's releases her hand grip, using only her knees to pin down Advika’s arms. She raises her right fist looking for the best direst route to Advika’s head. The room grows silent, the only sounds are the heavy breaths of the two fighters and the muffled grunts of exertion. This moment feels like a strange dream for me. I have never seen Stacy this way, nor would I have ever imagined it. But here she is, fighting as an aggressor, about to bring the fight to a violent end.
Advika's eyes narrow, and she bucks her hips, trying to throw Stacy off balance. But Stacy remains perched on Advika’s chest. She leans in closer, her hot breath against Advika's ear. "Tap out," she audibly taunts. "You can't win this."
Uma has her hands over her mouth as she stares at her daughter’s precarious position. All of the Doshis look concerned, some of them still offering Advika’s encouragement. Travis has been yelling, but I’ve learned how to tune out his obnoxious voice.
“No,” Advika screams in defiance. She manages to twist her left arm free from under Stacy’s knee. She wails in pain as her injured left hand shoots up, grabbing a fistful of Stacy's hair and pulling her head down. Stacy's eyes widen in surprise as she loses her balance; Advika’s bucks, twists, and pulls. Stacy’s advantage is lost. Advika dislodges Stacy and rolls her over, reversing their positions.
Now, it is Stacy's turn to be pinned as the tide of the fight is shifted. Advika's chest heaves with the exertion, her teeth clench as she grounds her hips into Stacy's. With her good right hand, she wraps her right arm around Stacy's neck, her bicep flexing as she applies pressure pulling Stacy’s head forward. Stacy's eyes bulge, her face reddening as she desperately tries to break the hold. The Doshis come alive, urging Advika to end the fight as I shout my support for my niece.
Advika's grip is unyielding, her eyes gleam with a fierce determination, knowing victory is within her grasp. With a vicious thrust, she slams Stacy's head down, the back of her head smashing into the carpet with a sickening thud. I gasp, my eyes glued to the spectacle before me as I prepare to step in and break up the fight, conceding the victory to Advika on Stacy’s behalf.
I may have underestimated Stacy’s survival instincts. She manages to wriggle her right arm free from Advika's hold and seize the injured hand. Advika howls in pain as Stacy forces her to relinquish her position, allowing my niece to roll away.
Advika scrambles to her feet, her left hand cradled to her chest, a snarl of frustration on her lips. Her eyes search the room, finding her mother's worried gaze. She gives Uma a reassuring look that says she will not lose to this novice, not in front of her family. She lunges at Stacy again, her right hand cocked back for a punch.
Stacy sees the attack coming and rolls away, her body seeming to move on instinct. She leaps to her feet, her fists up, ready to continue the battle. Her breaths are coming in heavy pants. Her left eye appears more swollen. The two women circle each other, their eyes locked.
Advika's face shows fierce determination, her eyes never leaving Stacy's. She feigns a punch with her injured hand, then swings with her right, catching Stacy's jaw. The auburn ponytail snaps back, but she doesn't go down. Instead, she takes a step back, her eyes squint with anger.
Stacy's cheeks are red with the sting of the blow, and she wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She spits a mouthful of saliva onto the floor, her eyes never leaving Advika's. Both women are focused only on each other, as if the only thing that mattered was the woman in front of each one, the woman they had to beat.
Stacy charges forward, raining slaps and punches on Advika. The youngest Doshi, caught off-guard by the sudden onslaught, stumbles back, her injured hand cradled against her chest. Stacy gives her no time to recover, pushing her back against the wall. Stacy knows that Advika is limited by her injured hand and her strategy now is to overwhelm her.
Stacy's with her a newfound intensity, appears more calculated with her movements. She has her opponent trapped against the wall and she is trying to end the fight right now. Advika's is trying to cover up the best she can while protecting her left hand.
Stacy connects a swift uppercut to Advika's chin, snapping her head back against the wall. Advika is valiantly trying to hold on and defend herself but she is in trouble. She knows it and all the Doshi’s know it.
Seizing the opportunity, Stacy wraps her arms around Advika's waist and, with a powerful heave, swings her and throws her to the floor. Advika is lying on her side stunned. Stacy hovers above her, showing a killer instinct that shocks me.
Advika pushes herself up, her left hand cradled against her ribs. Stacy doesn’t give her a chance to recover, raining down a series of punches and kicks that pummel her body. Advika manages to block some, but the force of the blows taking its toll. I notice some facial swelling. Yet, she refuses to give up, her eyes never leaving Stacy's. Her fire is not completely extinguished.
Advika manages to stand and tries to fight back. Stacy ducks under one of Advika's weak punches and delivers a devastating blow to the solar plexus. Advika doubles over, gasping for air, her eyes seem to be watering. Stacy takes the opportunity to grab a handful of Advika's hair and pull her head back, exposing her throat.
Advika still tries to fight. Fading quickly, she swings her injured hand, catching Stacy's cheek with the back of her palm. Stacy doesn’t flinch. Instead, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and grins as if to jeer, "Is that all you've got left?"
Stacy sends a powerful knee to Advika's midsection, nearly lifting her off the floor and sending her crashing back down. Advika's breath leaves her, and she looks beaten and desperate. She struggles to stand but Stacy doesn’t relent, her fists pummeling into Advika's face and torso. Advika is brave and keeps her hands up and tries to withstand the barrage but she barely has the strength to fight back.
The faces of her mother and family are grim. I understand their heartbreak. Advika felt she had something to prove to herself and her family. If truth be told, I think Advika is a better fighter than Stacy at this time. I suspect she would have won the first fight had she not injured her hand. She was eager to fight again with the injury and now she is paying the price. Her legs wobble and threaten to give out beneath her. She staggers backward, trying to gain some semblance of control. Tears and sweat mix with a small amount of blood on her face. Yet, she refuses to give in. Her pride, her identity, her standing with her family demand she stands firm.
Stacy seems to sense the end is near. A hard slap to the face sends Advika spinning around and down on her butt. Stacy pounces, mounting herself on Advika’s chest, looking for the finish. Out of desperation, Advika reaches up with her injured left hand and grabs a fistful of Stacy’s hair and despite the pain, manages to pull my redhead niece down and rolls on her side, bringing their faces close together, giving the Doshis a glimmer of hope the tables might turn again.
Advika's right hand shoots out, her thumb driving into Stacy's left eye. I gasp as Stacy's head snaps back and a shrill scream of pain pierces the air. Stacy's hand covers her eye. She jumps up and stumbles, her legs unsteady. Advika, even more shaky, takes the opportunity to scramble to her feet, her breaths coming in strained gasps. I instinctively step forward onto the arena part of the carpet to stop the fight. I know full well the risk of serious eye injuries. I lean forward and squint, trying to assess the damage.
With a snarl, Stacy reaches out and grabs a handful of Advika's hair, yanking her backward. Advika's eyes went wide with pain and surprise, but she didn't fight the pull. Instead, she backs into it, her right leg kicking backward. Her foot connects with Stacy's crotch, sending my niece crumpling onto the floor.
Stacy lies on her back, panting and trying to clear her vision. Advika's form looms over her. Stacy shoots her hand out and grabs a fistful of Advika's hair. The blue-eyed Indian girl yelps in pain as Stacy drags her down to the floor. Their bodies intertwine on the mat, both of them in pain and exhausted grappling for position. Stacy's knee slams into Advika's side, as she perches herself on Advika’s chest planning for a finish.
Still, Advika doesn't give up, her eyes flashing with a mix of pain and fury. She reaches up with her good hand, her nails digging into Stacy's right shoulder, leaving a trail of scratches down the arm. Stacy squeals and leaps to her feet in pain and anger.
With a brutal yank, she drags Advika to her feet by her hair, her teeth bared in a snarl. "You're mine," she growls. Her eyes search for a target, her fists poised to deliver the final blow. Advika's face is a mess of redness and swelling, but she doesn't look defeated. Instead, she looks up at Stacy with a fiery determination that has yet to be extinguished. I cringe, as I suspect this will be the final blow.
Stacy's arm draws back, her fist clenched tightly, the muscles in her bicep standing out. She throws the punch with what seems like every ounce of strength she had left, aiming for Advika's face. Perhaps her vision is blurry, or maybe her judgment is off from the pain in her eye. The punch misses its mark by a hair's breadth, and Stacy’s balance wavers. Advika takes advantage of the opening, twisting in her grasp and bringing her knee up to connect with Stacy's chin.
The force of the blow sends Stacy spinning off to the side, her legs giving out beneath her. She tumbles to the floor, her left ankle twisting unnaturally as she falls. A scream of agony tears from her throat as she grasps her ankle with both hands and wails. For a brief moment, Doshis and I freeze with shock and concern.
My heart leaps into my throat seeing Stacy collapse. I’ve seen enough. I bolt from my seat, rushing to Stacy’s side. "That's it!" I yell, "this ends now!"
Stacy lies on the floor, her eyes squeezed shut, her body writhing in pain. My nurse instincts take over. "You're okay," I murmur in my most soothing voice. "It's over." I gently cradle Stacy's head, my eyes scanning the damage done to her body. The swollen eye, the bruised ribs, the scratches, the twisted ankle – it was all too much. I should have stopped the fight long ago.
Ishita brings me another bag of ice and I apply it to Stacy's swollen ankle. Stacy's shivers and hisses through her teeth, trying to keep the pain at bay. I keep the pressure firm but gentle, working to reduce the swelling. The tension in Stacy's body eases slightly but the tears continue.
The Doshis gather around as I tend my fallen niece. Uma watches the scene with a mix of pride and concern, I’m sure she feels a sense of relief from the sheer intensity of the fight. Despite the beating Stacy and Advika gave each other, she knows that the battle was really just two young women trying to find their place in the world. She nudges Advika gently, who was still panting from exertion. "Go check on her," she murmurs. "Show her respect."
Advika nods, her own chest heaving with the effort of the fight. Her swollen hand, facial swelling, small amount of blood on her lip and body bruises prove she took as much as she gave. Her legs wobble beneath her as she makes her way over to Stacy who is lying still on the floor, the fight drained from her. The Indian girl offers a hand while her other arm clutches her own pained ribs. She looks at Stacy as if her eyes are searching Stacy's for any sign of anger or hostility. She finds only pain and exhaustion mirroring her own.
Uma follows closely behind. She looks at Stacy as if she feels a strange kinship with the girl who had fought tooth and nail with her daughter. After all, Stacy and Advika have much in common; both of them had something to prove, and on this day, they had found it in each other.
"Are you okay?" Advika asks, her voice low and raspy from the exertion. Stacy looks up at her, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and disappointment. She takes the offered hand, allowing Advika to help her sit up as I keep the ice on the ankle that is already swelling.
Upon closer inspection, Advika could see the extent of Stacy's injuries. Her eye is nearly swollen shut, a deep purple bruise spreading from her cheek to her forehead. Her ankle was swelling. Stacy manages a tight closed smile. "I'll live," she says, her voice raspy and strained.
“I think it’s a sprain,” I tell her. “I can’t be 100% sure, so you should get an X-ray tomorrow.” Sitting on the floor, I carefully lift Stacy's left leg, cradling it in my arms. "Hold still," I instruct, in my firm but gentle nurse’s voice. I apply a topical analgesic, and offer Stacy ibuprofen tablets. I apply an elastic wrap. “Let’s get you home,” I say to her.
With a grimace, Stacy pushes herself off the floor, her right hand gripping Advika's forearm tightly as I hover over her like a protective shield. Her left leg buckles at first, but she bites down on the pain and takes a tentative step. I’m sure it’s agonizing, but she refuses to show it. Stacy nods, her jaw clenched. "I've got this."
Stacy breaks with the support of Advika and I and limps away unassisted, barely able to place any weight on her left foot. Then she hits me with another bombshell, “Advika, are you ready to go again?”
We all look at her with puzzlement. “You are not telling me you want to fight again,” I say.
“Yeah,” she replies. “She won one, I won one. We need a tie breaker”
"You can't be serious," I hiss. "Look at you, Stacy! Look at Advika! Haven’t you two beaten the shit out of each other enough? You're hurt, you're not thinking straight!"
Stacy grits her teeth, and winces in pain her hand against the wall for support. "I'm fine," she insists, her voice stronger than she felt. "I’ll say it again. We're both adults. We can make our own choices."
"Choices? This isn't about making choices!" I snap. "This is about your safety! What do I tell your parents when you come home in a wheelchair.”
Stacy gives me a glare that’s as fiery as her red hair, spitting her words at me in defiance bordering on hostility. “You tell them that their little girl grew the fuck up.”
“Really, Stacy? This is a grown-up decision? Risking permanent injury?”
"I know what I'm doing," she insists, her voice stronger and louder than it had been moments ago. "I want to do this. It’s just a sprain. Patrick Mahomes played the second half of the Superbowl on a sprained ankle and beat the Eagles."
“Stacy,” I tell her in a matter-of-fact manner, “you are no Patrick Mahomes.”
Her face contorts into a mask of anger and frustration, looking for a release until she blurts out, “Aunt Kiva, why do you have to be such a …BITCH!”
The Doshis collectively gasp. The room goes silent. Stacy and I lock our eyes on each other with sharp cold stares.
“Stacy!” Uma barks, breaking the silence. “In our culture, talking to your elders in such a manner is a disgrace. You should be ashamed of herself. You should apologize now.” Thank you, Uma, I’m thinking. I feel a little vindicated knowing I have the sensibility of Eastern culture on my side.
“All right, I’m sorry,” Stacy says halfheartedly. “I’m just pissed off. I’m sick of people telling me what to do.”
I have nothing more to say. Further arguing won't change Stacy's mind. The girl had always been stubborn, and I’m sure the thrill of the fight has only made her more so.
"Fine," I say, "but if you're going to be this reckless, you're doing it without my help. If you resume fighting, I will not intervene. I’m done. You are on your own.”
Uma turns to her daughter, her own concern written plainly on her face. "Advika," she begins, her voice gentle but firm, "We all think you and Stacy should stop fighting for today." Advika looks at her mother, her own conviction. "I can’t, Mom, Stacy is right. We need one more fight to break the tie."
"You're an adult," Uma conceded, her voice thick with emotion. "But wisdom is knowing when enough is enough and to walk away.”
Advika nods solemnly. "I'll be careful," she assures her mother. "But I have to finish this. For me."
Uma sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Advika clearly has a stubborn streak as well. With a resigned look, she turns to Stacy. "And you," she said, her voice again firm, "you take care of yourself. I don't want to see either of you get hurt again."
Stacy nods, a hint of a smile playing on her puffy lips. "Thank you, Mrs. Pennington," she mutters, "We'll be careful." Uma offers a grateful smile and I wonder if she doesn’t see a some of Advika in Stacy. I can’t deny the two girls seem to have formed an unspoken bond in the heat of battle, that goes beyond mere competition. Perhaps they see a large part of themselves in each other.
Reluctantly, I take my position in the chair at the corner of the carpet, wondering how I’ll live up to my promise to not interfere, when I’m interrupted by Travis. Travis? Oh God! I forgot that creep is still here. At least he’s been making himself unnoticeable.
“Wow, you did it again,” he says in a grating voice. “If I ever have a part of my body that’s hot and swollen and needs a nurse’s attention, you’d be the one I’d want to handle it.”
I give him a stare that says I’d like to see his body turned to fertilizer. “Listen, you piece of shit,” I growl. “If you disrespect me one more time, you will spend the rest of your life institutionalized, receiving all your meals pumped into your stomach through a plastic tube.” Fuck, I want this day to end.
The two fighters take a few moments to loosen up again. Clearly, the break in the action has caused considerable pain and stiffness in both of them. Stacy gently places her left foot on the carpet, testing her weight. The pain in her ankle is still there and she is barely mobile.
Advika steps back, her eyes never leaving Stacy's. With a nod, she signals she is ready. Stacy mirrors the gesture, her teeth bared in a fierce grin.
The third fight begins with a tentative approach, both fighters wary of their injuries. Advika's left hand hangs at her side, nearly useless and aching. Stacy's right foot drags, the wrapped ankle swollen and tender. Yet, their fighting spirits remain unbroken as they circle each other, searching for an opening.
Advika feigns a jab with her right hand, and Stacy takes the bait, lunging forward with a clumsy wild swing. Advika ducks, her right hand shooting out to grab Stacy's ankle. The redhead yelps as she goes down, her body falling to the floor. I’m expecting this third fight to be short.
Stacy rolls with the fall, Advika dives on top of her. Their bodies entangle and grapple, each trying to gain the upper hand. Advika's good hand wraps around Stacy's wrist, while her left hand remains at her side, protected. Stacy's free hand finds Advika's injured ribs, and she delivers a short punch, eliciting a grunt of pain.
Their movements look more desperate, each fighter pushing through pain, hoping to end the fight. Advika manages to roll off Stacy, her breaths coming in audible gasps. Stacy takes the opportunity to push herself up onto her left elbow, her left leg bent awkwardly beneath her. They stare at each other for a moment, both panting, both bruised and battered. Then, as if on an unspoken cue, they lunge at each other once more.
Advika's right hand shoot outs, aiming a punch at Stacy's sprained ankle. Stacy sees it coming and twists away, but not fast enough and she can't hold back a scream. Advika proves she isn’t about to show mercy to Stacy’s injury. She pushes herself to her feet, her own injured hand cradled against her chest.
Stacy rolls over, gritting her teeth. She manages to get to her knees, then her feet, favoring her left leg heavily. They face each other again, their eyes locked in a battle of wills and attrition.
With a swift move, Advika lunges forward, her right fist aiming for Stacy's face. Stacy sees it coming and ducks, her left arm shooting up to block the blow. Now at close range, Stacy counters, snapping her fist into Advika’s injured hand, causing the youngest Doshi to howl in pain.
Advika crouches low, her good hand balled into a fist. Clearly, she is in a lot of pain and wants to end the fight quickly. Stacy’s ankle is an easy target and Advika knows it. She springs forward, her fist flying toward Stacy's face. Stacy sees it coming and ducks, her left leg buckling under her. She staggers back and stumbles, her left hand extending out to balance herself. It was all the opening Advika needed.
She shoots in, grabbing Stacy’s ankle with her good hand. Stacy falls to the floor, her leg giving out completely. Advika hovers over her, her breathing heavy and ragged. "I'm sorry," she mutters, her voice hoarse with pain and half apology. "But I have to win."
Stacy's brows furrow, and she pushes herself back up to her knees. "So do I," her strained voice guts out.
Advika is on top of her in an instant, her good hand wraps around Stacy's throat, cutting off her air supply. Stacy's eyes bulge, her hands scrabbling at Advika's forearm, trying to pry it away. Her legs thrashed wildly, but Advika had anticipated the move and pinned them down with her own.
At this point, my emotions are numb. I never expected the fight to play out like this. I’m frustrated and infuriated by the youthful stubbornness of these two girls. Now my niece is being choked out and I’m at least relieved this ordeal is about to end.
Despite Advika being close to victory, The Doshi’s are remarkably silent. Uma gives me a look of concern. Stacy's eyes searched the ceiling, desperate for a way out of this predicament. Advika's grip tightened, her bicep flexing with the effort. "Tap out," she whispered, her voice strained but firm. "This doesn't have to end like this."
Stacy looks at me in desperation, as if she’s hoping I can provide a solution to her way out. I have none. I want her to submit. I want to rush in and break it up and declare Advika the winner but I made a promise not to interfere.
Her hands find Advika's wrist, her fingers digging into the flesh as she tries to break free. Her cheeks flush a deep red, her chest heaving with the effort. She manages to shake her head, her eyes never leaving Advika's. "Never," she gasps, her voice a hoarse whisper.
The fight has gone on too long, and the risk of serious injury is growing with every passing second. With a grimace, Advika tighten her grip, her knuckles turning white. "You don't have a choice," she utters, her voice gravels with the effort of holding Stacy down with one hand on her throat.
But Stacy still wasn’t vanquished. Her left hand flings up, grabbing Advika's injured left hand. The young Indian woman’s eyes widen in surprise as Stacy's grip tightens, her thumb pressing into the hand still tender and swollen from dislocation. With a scream of pain, Advika's grip on Stacy's throat loosens.
Stacy takes the opening. She slams her right elbow into Advika's side, forcing her to roll off. Stacy pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, gasping and choking as she tries to recover from the choke. Advika was quick to recover, though, and she was back on her feet, her eyes never leaving Stacy's. Advika allows Stacy to rise, perhaps realizing her ankle is and easy target. She clutched her left hand as Stacy limps towards her.
Stacy rears back her fist and feigns a left hook. Advika, anticipating the attack, raises her good hand to block. In that split second of vulnerability, Stacy sees her chance. She fires her right foot out, catching Advika's wrist in an explosive kick. I hear a snapping sound and Advika's cry of pain is the only sound that follows. her shattered
Advika's hand falls to her side, useless, the reality of a possible fractured wrist sets in. Stacy’s kick came with a price. The shift in weight to deliver the kick was transferred to her damaged left ankle and she fell to the floor in a heap. Advika is crying, writhing on the floor, her eyes squeezed shut. Stacy is lying on her side, clutching her ankle. This fight needs to be stopped for both of their safety. I break my promise somewhat and I plead with them to quit but I don’t physically interfere. Uma does the same, but I’m disappointed the Doshis aren’t making more of an effort to bring the fight to an end.
Stacy limps over to Advika, obviously in pain. "I'm sorry," offers, her voice wavering with emotion. "I didn't mean to..." But Advika's eyes snap open, the fire in them still unextinguished. She pulls herself to her knees, her jaw set in a grimace. "Don't," she says through gritted teeth. "Don't pity me."
Stacy takes a step back, her chest heaving with the effort of staying upright. "I won't," she promised, her eyes never leaving Advika's. "But we can't go on like this." She holds out her hand, her own body full of bruises and scratches and covered in sweat. "We're both hurt. We've both proven ourselves."
Advika rises to her feet, her hand hanging limply at her side. "You can't finish this," Stacy said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Your hand..."
Finally, the young ladies are coming to their senses and once again I feel relief. “Good job, girls,” Uma applauds. “You both fought really hard.”
Advika's eyes flash with defiance. "I can still fight."
“No Advika, you should stop,” Uma urges. However, Uma knows better than to argue with that kind of stubbornness. She'd seen it in her daughter and in herself too many times. After all, Advika is a Doshi woman. And that means she is from a family of fighters.
Advika attacks Stacy who was nearly caught off guard. Stacy throws a punch at her opponent’s midsection. Instinctively, Advika uses her injured left hand to block and Stacy seizes it, locking onto the vulnerable wrist. I could see the moment of realization in Advika's eyes, the split second where she knew she'd made a mistake.
Advika's scream filled the room as she collapses to the floor, clutching her wrist. The fight drained from her eyes, replaced by a mix of anger and defeat. Stacy steps back, gripping Advika's wrist in a vice-like hold. "I'm sorry," she moans, her voice high pitched with pain and regret. "But this is for both of us."
With a twist and a sharp pull, she wrenches Advika's injured hand, forcing her onto her back. Stacy looks over at me with a nod and slight smile, but she doesn't let go. "It's over," she pants, her eyes never leaving her opponent's. "You can't fight like this."
“She’s right, Advika,” Uma’s voice calls out, joined in by other Doshi’s. “It’s okay to quit.”
Advika's eyes blaze with anger and frustration, but I sense she knows Stacy is right and she doesn’t want to admit it. Her teeth clenched against the agony in her hand. "Finish it," she grinds out, her voice a mix of defiance and defeat.
With a swift motion, Stacy pulled Advika's arm towards her, using the leverage to keep the Indian girl onto her back. Advika's eyes widened in surprise, but she had no time to react before Stacy drops down, holds the arm between her legs, crossing her legs over Advika’s chest. Stacy leans back applying pressure on the elbow while squeezing the wrist, locking in an arm bar hold.
Advika is in pain and panicking, her eyes frantically looking for a way out. I finally break my promise and jump out of my chair. “Stacy, what the fuck are you doing? Let go of her. Now!” The Doshis also finally get off their butts to come save Advika. Uma, Ishita, Damini all heading to the combatants.
“No, Aunt Kiva, I know what I’m doing,” Stacy shouts back.
“No, you don’t,” I scold. “You’re going to hurt her more.”
“Trust me.”
What the fuck is she talking about? “Damn it, Stacy, you are such a …”
“I GIVE UP!”
Okay. Finally. Except, it sounded like I heard two voices. Stacy is still holding Advika’s by the wrist but is tapping the floor with her other hand. Advika is on her back caught in the arm bar, but her good hand has Stacy’s sprained left ankle pressed against her chest. The women release their holds and Stacy rolls on her back next to Advika. The Doshis gather around in confusion.
“What happened?” I ask.
“They both submitted,” Uma informs me. “Except I can’t tell who submitted first.”
Uma watches a replay of the final seconds of the fight on her cell phone. “Should we call it a draw?”
“I suppose,” I answer with a weary sigh.
Honestly, I don’t care who the so-called winner of this fight is. They both gave it everything they had and can only hope there are no long-term injuries. The Doshis and I tend to our fallen warriors. I recommend more ice for both of them. Gradually, we get them to their feet and sitting in chairs. We give them water with electrolytes. I’m worried Advika has a wrist fracture and I splint it. She’ll need an X-ray. So will Stacy. Their faces are puffy, their bodies are peppered with bruises and scratches. They are in so much pain and stiffness, they can barely move.
Uma and I praise both girls. There seems to be no hard feelings between them. The four of us both hug. Stacy seems satisfied with her performance. I’m not so sure about Advika, although her family seem impressed that she fought through pain for so long. If nothing else, she proved she was a warrior and perhaps that’s what she wanted from this fight. But was Stacy a suitable test for her? Time will tell.
Advika mingles with her other relatives. I see her and Damini embrace in a long heartfelt hug which may mean the rift between them is over.
“Have you seen Travis?” Stacy asks me.
“Um, yeah, he’s right over there,” I inform her, pointing to the door where we see him leaving with Advika.
“Fuck,” Stacy grumbles. “She stole my guy.”
“Well, that’s great news for you.”
Once we get home, I help Stacy into the bath, continue with the ice, rewrap her ankle, give her more pain medicine, apply antiseptic ointment to her cuts and scratches, and antibiotic eye drops to her swollen eye. Tomorrow, I’ll arrange an appointment in Orthopedic clinic. We already made up a story of her getting injured playing basketball. We spend the rest of the evening watching TV and eating popcorn.
It’s past midnight and Stacy can’t sleep. I understand it. She’s had so much adrenalin rushing in her blood today, her body is still in high alert mode. I stay up with her and talk.
“Aunt Kiva,” she says, “I’m sorry I called you a bitch.”
“That’s not the worst thing you’ve called me,” I tell her. “You always had a mouth on you.”
“I don’t remember ever calling you…”
“When you were five-years-old,” I explain, “I babysat you and wouldn’t let you stay up late watching television…so you called me a poopy head.”
We laugh. “This isn’t the first time I tried to help you fall asleep either,” I add.
Oh fuck! This night has been a disaster. She’s been crying for hours. I’ve tried everything. I gave her a night-time feeding. I played tapes for her. We watched kiddy shows. I even put her in the car seat and drove around, hoping that will calm her down. She’s still crying. Maybe something is wrong with her. Should I call my brother? No, he’ll think I’m doing a bad job. Maybe I am a shitty babysitter. Should I take her to the ER? No, they’ll find nothing wrong with her and just laugh at me. But what if I’m wrong. I call my mom. She gives me some advice.
I take Stacy in my arms and sit with her in that big bucket cushioned rocking chair in the den. Holding her tiny body, I begin to rock. The words spontaneously come out of my mouth. The lyrics to a song by Lee Ann Womack:
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
Stacy is asleep.
I take Stacy by the hand and lead her to the big recliner swivel rocker in the living room. “Sit on my lap, big girl. Aunt Kiva will help you fall asleep.” Holding her 125 lb body, I begin to rock, the words come out spontaneously.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin'
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'
Don't let some hellbent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin' out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance (time is a wheel in constant motion)
I hope you dance (always rolling us along)
I hope you dance (tell me who wants to look back on their years)
I hope you dance (and wonder where those years have gone)
Stacy is asleep.
It’s two days later and I’m drinking morning coffee at my kitchen table. Stacy’s X-rays showed no fractures. The doctor prescribed an air cast. Her eye swelling is down but she does have a bit of a shiner. She’s moving better. I look at my cell phone one more time.
“Good morning, Aunt Kiva,” Stacy says as she descends down the stairs.”
“Good morning, girl,” I return. “Say, Stacy, I thought you might explain something for me. I’ve been watching the video of the end of your fight and I noticed something. You had Advika trapped and had control of her hand. She was totally helpless. Your ankles were crossed over her chest, the right one was protecting the left. She couldn’t get at it with her good hand. Then, for some unknown reason, you uncrossed your ankles and she takes hold of the left and twists it with her good hand. Why did you let her do that.”
“I just got careless,” Stacy says with a smirk.
“I also noticed that you were looking at her face the entire time. She didn’t have a hand to tap out with, so she gave a verbal submission. It doesn’t look like a tie to me. She started to give up before you did. I think you deliberately fed her your leg, let her take your ankle, then timed your submission with hers.”
“No,” she says laughing. “We both gave up together.” Stacy never could keep a straight face when lying.
“I get it,” I tell her. “You offered her a draw and she didn’t take it. You were trying to help her save face in front of her family. It was a very nice gesture but fighters aren’t supposed to show mercy.”
“I didn’t,” she grins. Advika and I are good. We’ve been texting each other all morning. Her X-rays did show a small wrist fracture. The finger is fine. She’s in a cast for a few weeks. She might come out east to visit me next month. We’re just going to hang out and chill together.
“And Travis?"
“Oh, she dumped him already. He’s a real asshole.”
"You don't say."
It’s Stacy’s last day with me before she returns home tomorrow. I planned a day of shopping and lunch with her. “We’ll Aunt Kiva,” she says, “actually I signed up to volunteer at the hospital. It’s a desk job, stuffing envelops with charity event flyers. No one will see me banged up,” she laughs. “In fact, I have to hurry up and get ready. I called for a lift.”
As Stacy prepares, I reflect again on the fight. Both of those girls put themselves through hell trying to prove something to themselves and families. I admit I didn’t expect Stacy to be a warrior who would not quit. I open my laptop and prepare a new document.
Dear Admissions Committee,
It is with great pleasure that I recommend Ms. Stacy Sheppard as an applicant to your Student Nursing Program….
