Behrend Showcase
LOIS HEISE - Creative Writin . q Major
Walking along the sidewalk outside Erie's Bayfront Convention Center, the sunny day
was turning into a pleasant evening along Lake Erie's bay. It was this Pennsylvania city's
mixed martial arts sporting event appropriately named Beatdown on the Bay 2, and that's
just what I expected. Once inside the main room, my eyes went directly to the ominous
octagon in the center of the large room. Circling the cage was a single row of tables and
chairs; the rest of the room had wooden folding chairs fanned out surrounding the octa
gon. Four large teletrons hung on the walls. People were everywhere. The program
showed the first fight of the night was my son's. Good, I thought, get it over with right
away.
I sat on my wooden chair in the row chosen by my two oldest sons and people watched
young and middle-aged men and women mill around. There were a few children, the
twenty-somethings wore baggy pants, and their ball caps turned sideways. Men gawked
at women walking by and most people held a plastic glass of beer in each hand. I was
tempted to ask my oldest son for a swig of his beer to help keep my nerve up, but I did
n't.
The escorts for the fighters were two blond girls, probably in their twenties, who kept
walking back and forth close to the cage, which made me wonder who got more attention
- the fighters or the girls in their black bikinis and high heels. The disc jockey played
blood pumping music like "Bad to the Bone" and "Highway to Hell." In between, he re
peated announce f buying beer at the back of the room where no lines existed.
When it came t . roduce the fighters, my son, Nick, was escorted down the aisle
by one of the gir hile they played his theme song, "Car Wash." He played this same
song during high hopl swim meets to pump up his fellow athletes.
At the start of the first round they louc ed gloves and mostly boxed or did standup.
This reminded how I tched J Fraz and Muhammad Ali on television with my
father as ato irl. w taking asy at first, evaluating each other. -
‘ f I used one-two combos. Nick's oppl
following Nick's, causing Nick's 111
, king him swing wildly, and becai
. Nick's right knee found its wa:
I unded sending both fighters t'
:16' 4 \ \
'
Haddie eased herself across the front porch, the arthritis in her hind legs starting to
show in a heavy limp. She licked at her water bowl, a prior rain. The food bowl was
empty. Len was drinking again, slept in. When he woke up to the sound of the neigh
bor's lawn mower, Haddie was beginning to whine through the screen door. There
was a note: Went to Lynn's place.
He forgot when the last time she left was, just like he forgot to go to church on Sun
day. These were the times that a bible proved extra useless to him. He'd just forget
what it said anyways, so he didn't see a point to it anymore. Trying to remember the
names of the faces in the pews, what sickness the priest's mother had, the next church
outing, it was all for the birds. He just drank his coffee, letting his memory roll off his
moustache like the steam. Len fed Haddie, added some extra for her wait.
"What, no tip?" Len says, petting the back of her head, her beagle's ears falling onto
his hand, back down to her chin.
The coffee drowns his need for a cigarette.
"It's about time you quit," she says.
He never felt much need to tell her no, only when he'd had a few. Last night was one
of those times. As the shots were slowly pulling Len's eyelids closed, he watched Lau
reen packing her suitcase, grabbing the keys to her car. He remembered to mumble,
to drool, didn't remember her birthday though, or their anniversary. The look on her
face when he handed her his grandmother's apron but pawned his great aunt's sap
phire brooch. He forgot that she still wore it even though most would consider it a
rag, with its aged grease spots and torn edges.
In an hour, he was supposed Harld B;
bers, so Len figured a shower
passing his wife's art room.
and grays with hints of yello ,
rather good, he had to admit,
their first date. He bought hel
it over to him across the picni
The fair was popular that yea
sausage but not to get their
with Harvey Gross, a gold ems
out of Harvey's back pocket
showed it to one of them, ahr
"The thing about it is that it'
vey scowled, laughed later ow
When Len walked back down:
his shirt, there was an officer
the man in blue and asked, "'
"Hello, Mr. Jacobs," he said,
found her body in a car up tl
say this, but, uh, she didn't m,
A look of confusion spread
me, this dog, and them fields
The officer looked back to
checked the paperwork in h,
Leonard?"
Len knelt, pet Haddie agal
her. Certainly ain't my wife. '
them Oak County Jacobs' be
I think I might have their nu,
11)y Sint Sig6t
Forgetting
"Show Yourself'
fight because I protected my child'
ley to watch him get beat up? My hu
vent I decided to go in case he need
ity in case I wanted to write about it
;d to go by Joe, my oldest son, who
;le brother's first fight. Nick's young
came to support Nick. There we all •
waiting for brutality
me calls from the audience, "Yeah,
uttering under my breath, Damn that
►onytail. Nick's opponent came out
first at Nick slamming him up agai,
crowd.
the cage floor, so watching the te,
nderstand what I was watching. Thy
and explained the fight scenes. Thy
4111 rush. A double leg take down oc(
NATHAN CARTER
Showeade Editor
when Brian wrapped his arms around Nick's legs and rushed him against the cage. Nick
countered by wrapping his legs around Brian's body in a guard and putting his knee in
between both their bodies. Nick then moved his hip to prevent Brian's head and arm
control in what's called passing the guard.
Nick explained when you kick someone; don't keep looking at where your kick lands
or you'll end up with a fist to the face like Brian. The loud crack made the crowd go nuts.
The second take down mimicked the first one with the same basic scenario with Nick up
against the cage. This time, Nick hooked his left arm around Brian's head, locking his
left hand onto his right; however, he couldn't get his knee between their bodies due to
the pressure of hugging each other. Just then the bell for the end of round two rang.
The second and third rounds were more intense than the first, but not like veteran fight
ers. Both Nick and Brian were amateurs. So was I. I didn't doubt Nick could fight well
because I had been watching him learn martial arts since he was seven years old. I made
bi-weekly treks to classes, until he could,drive himself at age sixteen and no longer
needed my taxi services. t was a martial a4Viimom; knowing belt advaniiement, talking
the lingo, rattling off sparring and tournament rules, and spending morevoney on his
uniforms than groceries. Would I have done that if I knew he would someday get a li
cense to get beat up?
Round three started with a deep voice yelling "Go Nick" from somewhere in the crowd.
Out from of their corners, slapping hands, punches flew back and forth until Brian shot
quickly into Nick for another double leg take down. Damn that hair. The crowd thun
dered with excitement. Nick told me later he anticipated this ground strategy, so after
he hooked a left fist he stepped back, widening his stance. Brian's fatigued attempt at a
take down failed when Nick grabbed Brian's head to prevent it.
After a few punches thrown between them, Brian rammed Nick, lifting him against the
cage. Once on theiloor, Nick hooked his arm under Brian's, his right leg around Brian's
right leg, andventered his weight using his hipstsiyrn himself over. A verbal wave of
excitement came from the crowd when Nick showed control by pushing hard twice. Be
fore Brian could create space between them by getting on his hip, Nick flattened him
hi Ipponent's chest. Throwing
fitting on his opponent. He
submission. Nick called it
Iponents hugged each other.
- -N,f
drolcen edge o.
all tiaught like the flick of a light switci
burden, and he's sure it won't matter by
They found the dark souls in his father'
They aren't in the attic anymore.
"Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration, motivation, and a pinch of creativity."
- BO BENNETT -
SEASONS IN THE WATER: Extended Exposure in the Gorge
STEPHEN FYFITCH -,IfETil/ay;tr
An in front of me. Sorry for
ht. I turned and apologized
• son that won. The woman
't, only because
:ast end up with a
)oy an , .nd that fight
he had b - .me more of a
of
greliafte.
him.
j, e to he
led OitIOR do
ion id
endure
04 s
rt for hid err
ing what some of us in our
larks on a bucket
Souls
CARTER
ne dies; when the world goes black