The paper read “The Fight of The Century.” Sam sipped his coffee, and continued reading. In bold print it read “John 'Furry' Melkum” Vs. Berry 'The Brick House' Delémont.” Skipping down a few lines, Sam found what he was looking for. The event was to take place Saturday at 5:00pm.
John laughed, “come on Mer you're looking at this all wrong. So what if I go down? I'll still be pulling in enough for neither one of us to talk about purse strings again.”
Meredith looked down at her breakfast with sadness. “This is different John. He's killed a guy, how can you be nonchalant?”
Smirking, John grabbed for her hand only for her to recoil. “I mean it! Don't you ever think about what I would do? How you wouldn't be there for Sarah? How could I go on by myself? You're so god damned selfish sometimes.”
John shot Meredith a solemn expression. “That's why I have to fight! I'm ill Meredith. Haven't you cared to notice that? Every bounced check, every notice from one lender or another is poisoning me. I'd be dead if I were alone!" You are what keeps me from succumbing, but I can't keep living like this. No Meredith, I can't go my whole life like this, I promise you that if something terrible were to happen that you and my sunshine will be fine.”
A soft cry rings from the other room. Wiping tears from her eyes Meredith walks out of the kitchen.
“I don't know how to explain it Rick. If I concentrate I know whats going to happen.” The Brick House finished his beer and continued explaining. “I'm beginning to think I'm not the only guy to ever done it.”
Rick almost fell off the bar stool from that. “What do you mean? You're trying to tell me other people have the 'gift'.”
“That's exactly what I'm telling you. You ever seen a movie that has a flashback and the scene looks like its covered in Vaseline?”
Rick Nodded.
“That's exactly what its like, I can't see everything I can just see immediately in front of me. Unless I get 'in the zone.' When I'm in the zone I can see a little farther away and everything seems to slow down too.”
Rick shook his head and chuckled. “Well, if that's the case, who's gonna win the fight?”
“Nah man, it doesn't work like that. I can only see a little bit, just enough to reflect on what's going on and figure out what I should do next..”
“Alright well what should you do next?”
Berry closed his eyes while huffing out his lose. “I think I need to have another drink.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all be waiting for. In this corner, weighing 168 pounds, the thriller, the killer, Berry 'The Brick House' Delémont.”
The crowd's opinion is mixed.' Some boo, others cheer, Berry wasn't took keen on the introduction. He wanted to forget about how he killed that man.
“And in this corner, weighing 167 pounds, punching in flurries, it's John 'Furry' Melkum.”
The announcer finished the usual banter while the referee instructed the men to come together in the ring and touch gloves. John nodded to Berry in understanding of the rules as the ref laid them out and Berry replied in the same fashion. With that, the bell rang.
Sam hadn't sat in on a boxing match since last year. Being the tragic match of 'The Brick House' against Harry 'Houdini' Sanders. Sanders' nick name came from the fact that he could seemingly get out of any tight spot typically without clinching.
Unfortunately for Harry, Berry had his own brand of magic, he didn't become the champ purely on skill. Berry could temporarily see into the future. Not far, but enough to give him an edge on a match. Berry was an endurance fighter. He would dodge attacks he saw coming and take a hit once and a while to not look suspicious. On the tenth round Berry would act like he was getting his second wind and pummel the guy for a T.K.O, sometimes a K.O..
Berry knocked him down till the ref counted to seven, Houdini got up and insisted he was well enough to continue. Berry saw his next attack and the counter ended up burying him. Sam was awful shocked and sad to have witnessed this fight. He was hoping this fight wouldn't be a rerun.
The ninth round came and went and both fighters were genuinely tired. Berry had never fought someone like John before and he knew it. Berry's vision wasn't as prophetic as it normally was. His punches connected earlier in the night but as the match drew on he couldn't land a punch.
As the tenth round began Berry tried his usual winning routine only to fail. John would sidestep most of his work and landed some of his own. Berry's foresight began to become hazy until the very end of the match. Berry tried to see what was coming next but all he could see was the canvas. Just as he thought he had collected himself John's punch connected with the Jawline closest to his neck. Berry went down, for good.