Training was a bit hard this morning at the Golden Gloves Gym. The pushups were painful and my chest seemed to grind from within. I couldn’t make the first quarter. My arms hurt like hell. The sweat poured out all over my body, and when my respiration turned to panting, coach stopped everything. He patted me on the shoulders, shook his head, and went to attend another client.
She was kissing him like she had never kissed before. I closed my eyes tight, shutting the memory away. My head reeled, I felt dizzy, and I fell to one knee. I must admit that things were really bad. The bills were high and paying them went from bad to worse. Each time it was another loan to pay off the previous one. But we never wanted for anything. And now this.
I sat down on the wooden stairs. This gym was as old as it gets. The wood was cured over time and a colorful blend between Redwood and Mahogany. However, it no longer smelled of the varnish, even though it was recently painted. The colors were shiny and a superb gloss reflected the sunlight.
Grandma had warned me against her. She is too pretty and faint of heart. She must be swearing in the tomb now, raising that middle finger that had made her famous. I told you so, didn’t I.
Billy, my older brother, knew her long before I did. He called me the ‘Lone Ranger’. You lassoed the prize calf of the tribe.
I placed my shoulder against the wooden bars of the staircase, they felt sore and burnt inside the muscles. I rested my head on the upper rail, closing my eyes slowly. Gently, I allowed my mind to wander out into the plains of loneliness and solitude. I crossed the valley of pride and shimmered in the boiling sun. A short distance ahead was the shady tree of self-pity. I would rest there for a while.
The Golden Gloves – First Encounter
I heard it. It came softly, serene, but softly at first. It bounced softly on my memory chords. Was I dreaming? It was closer, or louder now. I could barely make out the tune. I paused, still in the valley of pride, listening.
It was unmistakable. It was a familiar tune. I struggled to remember it. Tugged at my memory, fizzled through the crowded aches and pains. Searching. What was that song? I kicked at the brush in my valley and the pain shot to my head as my toes crashed against the wooden wall.
I opened my eyes, grabbed my feet, and pulled off my sneakers. Have you ever seen one of those days when even the brooms were against you? I peeled my sock away and groaned in pain as I saw the large red spot on my big toe.
I leaned back against the stairs. My rent was due today. The landlord would be over soon. Her son was having fun with my wife. How would I move on? I could kill him and keep her. Yet, deep inside I knew she would just wait for the next ‘Lone Ranger’.
There was that one time when the store owner had called her a ‘two-bit whore’ before the entire store. She had looked over to me, her eyes pleading for help. Support. Defense. I just stood there. Wanting to strangle him, make him dead as a bat.
Once outside she had told me through tears-filled eyes. Do you still love me, Marcus?
Yet, in my mind, I had walked up to the store owner, grabbed him behind the neck, and forced him to apologize.
The song again. Creeping in my head. It was a song I knew, it was calling out to me. Luring me. Haunting me and pulling me back from that valley where I so earnestly yearn to reach. It was my favorite valley. Once there, I could do anything I wanted. I could accomplish my goals and become somebody.
It’s my turn to be all I can be, no one can deny, this time is just for me….
It was right in my head. In my ears. It was right above me. I opened my eyes and the song played louder. It seemed to be coming from the glove rack. It was the only place in the gym that was off limits. No one was allowed to go near the gloves. They would be banned if they did.
What was so special about these gloves? Why were they untouchable? And who kept them so clean and bright?
The music roared on softly, just loud enough to flood my mind with that song.
The golden gloves glittered brilliantly like real gold. For a second I felt like it was drawing me to it. A strange, cold wind moved about my head, caressed my face, then moved slowly down my hands.
I wanted to touch them, try them out, and get the feel of the hunger burning in my head. The thing about curiosity is that once it gets a hold of you, there is no stopping it. So maybe that was why the cat got killed. Curiosity, the music, the gloves….cat got your tongue?
My hands reached up to take them down from the open hanger. A sweet heat filled my heart, it held me there. The music rolled on its beautiful crescendo, saturating my head with ideas.
Saved By the Bell – Lady in Red
He cleared his throat, and when I didn’t turn around, he slapped me in the face. His hand has turned to stone from the years of hitting the sandbag. His knuckles were balls of unfettered steel. I reeled and fell to the ground.
A thousand blue parrots flew before my eyes before a black shadow stood between me and him. The ground is cold and the concrete is moist but hard. My elbows crunched and a thousand electric needles rushed all the way up to my spine.
Cold beads of sweat appeared on my forehead and the room kept spinning for a while. The music had stopped. So did the superior feeling and inner burn and hunger. He was stealing my moment. My turn. Killing my spirit.
I felt furious, very angry. Why’d he done that? I turned around and faced him, my eyes blazing with fire. Even as I did, my vision failed me. I struggled to rise to one knee. Too weak, no strength, just pure hatred and that desire to kill him.
‘What’s wrong with you? What did you hit me for?’
‘You must stay away from those gloves, Bernie. Once it gets a hold of you, there’s no way back.’ There was that cold, authoritative tone in his voice. It struck another nerve and if I could have just managed to stand up, I would have killed him.
‘Listen here, you may own the gym but you don’t own me. Don’t you ever hit me again?’
Osman turned away slowly, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Something about saving my life. What life? More humiliation. I passed out again.
When I woke up, the gym was still buzzing with its daily routine. Everyone in their group was too busy to even notice me lying there. I got up and realized that the music was gone. The only thing that remained was the pain in my face. That was some hit.
I got home early but found I couldn’t get the evening’s event off my mind. The heat was returning to my hands. I sat on the sofa with a cold pack pressed to my cheek as I waited for the landlord. This month I had the rent. But my prize calf was somewhere out there with his son.
I must have fallen asleep. My mind roamed out into the night, strolling in the twilight moonlight on streets filled with dogs. The mixture of rain, garbage, and animals, created a unique and in-offensive odor.
I entered a closed alley with no signs of life except for a small, white cat. Three towering buildings on either side seem to dance with the stars. Neon lights and traffic signs riddle the lane.
It felt so real as if I were there. The night felt chilly and an almost full moon smiled down on the creatures of the night. Small fumes of smoke rose from the pavement, although there was no fire.
Yet, I know it was all in my head.
The soft, familiar song directed its charm on me and my arms began to heat up, even a lot more than they did at the gym. I felt my arms rising to a boxing stance. Just as I heard Osman training a million times. I brought them down abruptly to my side.
A strange woman is staring at me with a polite smile. Her French perfume attracts me to her beautiful body. Her red dress reaches down to high cowboy boots, and as she moves, her hair is blowing in the wind. She comes closer to me, her body almost touching mine. Her tiny, white hands moved up to touch my face.
She caresses my face in the exact spot where Osman had hit me. They’re extremely cold and sensual. So soft as if she had never used them before. I felt like nature had reserved her just for this moment.
The pain vanished and the music soared higher. I remember the song now. I knew it all so well. That was the day I broke away for the first time.
I was one of the college athletes and the fastest in the two hundred meters dash. However, I was always threatened by Devon Higgins. I would let him win, and it was so for three years. But that night, an old man visited me and asked me to help him review a song. This song.
The next day I ran so fast that everyone believed I would drop out after the first hundred meters. But I won. I won with more than 30 meters ahead of Devon.
She came even closer; I could feel her hot breath against my chin. I wanted to touch her hair but my hands stayed put at my side. Her eyes were solid black but seemed to reach deep within me and touch my soul. I could hear her whispering, even though I could not discern what she said.
A thrill rushed down my spine as an elderly man came floating through the air. Nothing like Superman. He was dressed like a boxer with his gloves, ready to fight. He glided over to me and stepped down on an invisible staircase.
His hair was very white, almost like the old paintings of Moises, and his face was as taut as a statue. His eyes were crescent blue, almost like those of the old man who visited me the night before the race.
‘How dare you try to steal my daughter without my consent! You must get by me first.’
He floated over to me with his gloves raised in a fighting position. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t know how to box, but my mouth refused to open.
His right hand came down solidly on my left cheek, and I staggered backward as if unseen hands were pulling me from behind. His left hand came up and hit me below my chin. It lifted me into the air, where a million stars whirled around my head. I was sure I saw two little birds flying with them too!
‘Bernie, Bernie’ she was shouting out to me, even as he dragged her away. ‘Bernie, you can beat him. Go get the gloves.’
And just as he had appeared out of nowhere, he vanished into the night with my love. The woman nature had reserved for me. He was bigger and packed a punch. But she was certain, I could beat him. Only if I had the golden gloves.
Fighting for My Queen With the Golden Gloves
When I woke up, I was still in my sitting hall but lying on the floor. I must have fallen out of the sofa. It all seemed so real. I tried to get up, but my head hurt so badly and I felt groggy. My mouth felt a bit salty. I touched the corner of my mouth. It was wet, a very thick wet. I gazed at my hand; it was covered in blood.
This was not a dream. Somehow, I was transported there. I understood it all, it was too clear. The old man, her father, didn’t want me to have the girl. He would keep beating me, time and time again.
Unless I had the gloves. I thought about it for a while, and then convinced that she was right, I decided to go get the gloves.
The gym was closed when I got there. All the lights were turned off, except for those that were in the parameters and the courtyard. There were no guards in sight, and the main door was closed. I circled the building looking for a way in. An open window, an unlocked door. But found none.
I went back to the front door and paused in surprise. It was slightly opened. Something rubbed against my feet, nudging gently. It was the cat from the alley. It looked up at me, turned around, then entered. I followed cautiously, trying to figure out how this cat could have opened the door.
I tried to walk quietly but to no avail. The wooden floor creaked like a Loro. It was rather old, how old I wasn’t sure. The golden gloves were still there. I could see them glittering from afar. I hastened to the hanger. My beauties were there. I could now claim my queen.
‘Wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Osman said you would come back for the golden gloves.’ The guard was standing to my left, he had a revolver in his hands.
‘Sir, please understand me, just want to borrow them for a little while. I need to win my queen..’ He walked out into the glow of the golden gloves.
‘So now, it offers you a queen!’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘You don’t get it, do you? That thing is dangerous. When I found it, it brought me to an old alley, where my father was ready to finally accept me as one of his children and gave me my share of the land.’
‘Did you get it? I mean the inheritance?’
‘No, Osman rescued me on time. Just as I am saving you now. Move away from those gloves, Bernie!’
For all that it was worth, I couldn’t let him take her away from me. Truth is, I already had her father to deal with. I felt braver than I have ever been. I was determined to make her mine.
Suddenly, I lounged at him with all that I had. It took him by surprise and the gun fell to the floor. I pounced upon him and started swinging blows.
Somehow he managed to push me off him and I fell to the floor. The guard wasn’t moving, just lying there helplessly. Without thinking, I picked up the revolver. I had to make sure that he was out of the way. I aimed and fired.
The gun was empty. Filled with more rage I looked about the room for something to end this fight. A bucket of water and ice came crashing down on my head. I passed out.
Osman and Jose Gabriel
I woke up in the hospital the next day. Osman was standing next to the door. It might have been the shock, but he looked so much like the girl’s father.
‘Hello, Bernie, how are you feeling?’
‘Been better, the headache is gone.’
He sat next to me.
‘You should try out boxing, Allan got his spurs taken to him.”
‘How is he doing?’
‘He will be all right. I’m happy I got there in time. The golden gloves are a lifelong curse, you managed to escape.’
‘Thanks, Osman. But why don’t you burn them?’
‘We have tried everything, but nothing works. We have even thrown them into the ocean, but they always appear again.’
Sounded more like a fairytale, but I saw it too.
‘Where did you get them?’
Osman shook his head. ‘I bought that farm back in ’84, then it was an old house. The owner, Jose Gabriel, warned me never to open the closet.
‘I made renovations years later and the carpenter opened the door. We have not been able to close it since.’
‘Say, what did the gloves promise you?:
Osman was quiet for a good while. I thought I had put my nose too far. But finally, he got up, walked towards the door, and said.
‘Eternal life, Bernie. They offered me eternal life.’ He left without another word.
I steered at the wall for about a minute or two. Who was Jose Gabriel, couldn’t be the same one that I am thinking about. Everyone in this town knows about Jose Gabriel. There was a monument in his honor at the school park. He died in 1487.
Eternal life, how old was Osman?
