28(E3S2)- Messy & Ugly

28

(Season 3, Episode 2)

Messy & Ugly

3:00 pm Tuesday

Creegan’s alarm went off and he heard it deep inside his hurting head.

He slapped the top of it and there was silence.  He then slowly pulled himself out of his bed, and the now warm ice pack that he had placed on his head the night before slipped off and hit the floor with a ‘splat’ noise.

The clock read 3:00 PM.  He had thirty minutes until his shift at the Bent Elbow bar.  He lived in the building above the bar so time was not a concern.  He sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, giving his throbbing head time to subside.

Slowly, he bent over and picked up the pack before rising uneasily to his feet.  He walked to the small apartment’s one window and slid open the curtains revealing the bright sun, slowly on its descending pattern in the west.

Jim Creegan winced and turned from the window, touching his hand to his eye slowly to check the damage.  A searing shot of pain rushed through his face at the gentlest of touches.

“Shit,” Creegan mumbled to himself as he stumbled to the bathroom.  He clicked on the light and examined the damage.  His right eye was nearly swollen shut and bright purple.

He immediately thought of his co-workers who would, yet again, grill him on the reoccurring damage to his face.  These were conversations that he would like nothing more than to avoid.

****

1:00 AM Tuesday

“You have to make it last more than five minutes.”  Harry yelled at Creegan over the sound of the crowd.

“Five minutes is an eternity, Harry.  You know how long these fights last.”  Creegan responded as he continued to tape his hands and wrists.

Harry was a small weasely man in a cheap suit.  He didn’t look like much, but he was one of the better underground fighter agents in the greater Ohio area.  He owed Creegan a favor and when Jim had come to collect it, Harry couldn’t have been happier that the favor was to promote him in the fights.

“Look, the betting continues after you step into the fight.  The longer it lasts, the more people bet, and the more we win.”  Harry countered.  “And the last four fights you have been in, you won in less than a minute.  Jimmy boy, you have been cutting down on our ends!”

Creegan gave the smarmy man a dirty look.  “Don’t call me that.”

They heard a wet thud and then the noise of a man falling to the concrete floor.  They were in a warehouse on the river downtown and the acoustics were amazing.  The crowd roared and Creegan new the fight before him was over.

He stood and took his shirt off.  He had gained a little in the stomach area but he still had the skills and knowledge to do what had to be done.  He and Harry started to walk toward the center of the ravenous crowd.

“Remember, Jimmy, five minutes.” Harry said again as the crowd cleared a path to the right center.

Standing in the middle of the people was a mountain of a man, muscles on top of muscles.  He stood two inches taller than Jim, which was difficult given that Creegen was 6’5’’ already.  The man had a hard chin and a big nose that looked like it had been broken thousands of time.  The giant scowled at Creegan and roared like a beast.

Harry and Creegan stared aghast for a second.

“Harry,” Creegan began, “I don’t think we have to worry about me winning too fast.”

***

3:15 Tuesday

 Creegan picked up his Bent Elbow ‘Staff’ t-shirt off the floor and slipped it over his head.  He then pulled on a pair of jeans and headed downstairs to face the news.

In all fairness, even he could not understand what he was doing.  It had been two years since he knocked out Maggie and left his past behind him, but yet there was something still in his gut that kept him fighting.

An unexplainable need.

He walked through the front door and Saturday Jones, a heavy-set, black woman gave him a hard look.  “Damn it.  White boy got his ass kicked again.”

Lisa was whipping a table and looked up, her face curling into shock and sympathy.  “Oh my God, Jim.  What happened?!”

Jim sighed and thought to himself. ‘Here we go.’

“It’s nothing, I fell down the stairs.”  Creegan answered, trying to end this quickly.

Saturday did a mock laugh.  “Shit, I had a sister that used that excuse when her husband beat the shit out of her.  How about it white boy?  You got a husband at home beating the shit out of you?”

Creegan scowled at her.  “Jesus, Saturday, does it always have to be about race?”

Saturday returned the scowl tenfold.  “I can’t be racist, I’m black.”

“Alright everyone, leave Jim alone.”  Paul had come from the back and decided to end things.  “But damn, Creegan, what happened to you?”

***

1:03 AM Tuesday

The blow nearly took Creegan’s head off.

It had been the brawler’s first big blow of the night, catching Creegan in the right eye and it was all he needed.  Jim was rocked, staggering backward and hitting the concrete.

The rules stated that if Creegan didn’t get back to his feet in a five count he was eliminated.  The first three seconds he was on another continent, then, he came out of the daze and pulled himself up.  This was rewarded by another ear shattering roar as the mountain charged him again.

Screw making the fight last five minutes, if Creegan didn’t do something now it was going to be over in five seconds.  Creegan brought himself back to reality and forced himself to focus on the task at hand as he ducked under another big right hook.

He was facing a tank.  You could not fight a tank head on.  The best you could do was to pull it apart.  Disassemble it.

The bruiser wound up and charged with another big right hand.  Creegan flew into motion, bringing his own hand around into a rare right hook.  He didn’t aim for the face, not yet.  That would be for later.  Instead, his blow struck the inside of the big man’s elbow as he hooked.  The man yelped at the sensation and the blow put him off balance.

Creegan stepped inside, at the same time spinning and bringing his left elbow into the giant’s collar bone.  The giant gasped for breath and staggered.  Creegan used the time to get back into defense and focus.

Most would press the advantage after laying a blow like that, but Creegan knew better.  He waited for another opening to counter.  Although the blow had surprised the big man, it was superfluous.  More insult than injury.  Creegan hoped it would enrage the man into another mistake.

Creegan got his wish.

The mass of muscle lurched forward, coming with a huge left, meant to put Jim down for good.  Jim was ready for the sloppy attack and ducked under it at the same time cocking his arm and rising with a perfectly placed uppercut to the arm pit of the extended hand.  The blow connected and a loud pop could be heard throughout the warehouse.

Jim had dislocated the man’s shoulder.

The man yowled in pain and staggered.  Now, Creegan pressed the advantage, stepping in and side kicking the man’s outer knee.  He was taken off guard and the knee buckled.  Creegan brought his right arm above his head.  With the opponent now below him, he brought the point of his elbow downward onto the bridge of the man’s nose.

The blow broke the man’s nose, again, and pulled the skin away from the bone.  Blood gushed out of the now open wound.

Creegan stepped in and drove his knee into the man’s face.

The Stallone wannabe rocked back on his knees and Creegan grabbed his head and pulled it forward while bringing up his other knee full force into the man’s face a second time.

This blow was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  The giant fell and did not get back up.

The crowd watched in silence as the ref counted to five and then they went ballistic. Creegan raised his fist weakly then turned to leave, the crowd parting for him.

Harry was grinning as he came out.  “Hell of a fight.  Never doubted you for a second!”

Creegan raised his good eyebrow.  “Really?  ‘Cuase I did.  I doubted the hell out of me.”

Harry chuckled and began to count out Creegan’s share.  “You know though, it still didn’t last five minutes.”

Creegan snatched his money and leered at Harry.

***

3:20 PM Tuesday

“It’s a long story, Paul. Do you think I could get an ice pack from the back?” Creegan replied as he stepped over to the bar.

Paul smiled softly, thinking better of the lecture he wanted to give his constantly troubled bouncer.  “Sure, Jim.”

The door behind Creegan opened and closed and he ignored it.  He heard Saturday say.  “We aren’t open for another 40 minutes, lady.”

Creegan then heard another voice speak but not loud enough to hear.  Saturday responded to the newcomer in a confused voice.  “You are queer for a vegan?  What the hell does that mean?!”

Jim eyes widened and he turned around.

Standing there in all her glory was the pierced, tattooed, red-headed, scarred, Patti O’Shaughnessy.

“I said, I’m here for Creegan you daft woman!”  Patti yelled back, furiously, in her inaudible Irish accent that no one could understand except for people who had spent a lot of time around her.

Very few who had, were still alive.

“Patti.”  He said and her eyes turned to him as she grinned.

He knew this was bad.  Anytime one of those mother fuckers walked into his life, things got ugly and messy.  He should have been pissed that she was here.

But for some reason, he found himself grinning.