Eli nodded.
“Okay.”
Then walked away.
The event continued.
Ryan did not.
He sat in the locker room alone.
Frank entered ten minutes later.
Ryan was unwrapping his hands.
“You happy?”
Frank closed the door halfway.
“No.”
“You told me to back out.”
“Yes.”
“Because you knew I’d lose?”
“No.”
Ryan looked up.
Frank sat.
“I knew you were choosing the wrong reason to spar.”
“That’s philosophy.”
“It’s coaching.”
Ryan threw tape into the trash.
“I could’ve dropped him.”
“Maybe.”
“I had eleven seconds.”
“Maybe.”
“I landed more.”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked at him.
“Then what?”
Frank leaned forward.
“You still think this is about whether you are better.”
Ryan said nothing.
Frank continued.
“You are a better kickboxer.”
“You should be.”
“You have fifteen years striking.”
“He does not.”
“So why did you need him on the floor?”
Ryan looked away.
Frank continued.
“The first thirty seconds, you were good.”
“Then the room got involved.”
“You stopped training and started proving.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“I was trying to win the bet.”
“Exactly.”
“That was the bet.”
Frank nodded.
“And that is why I told you not to make it.”
Silence.
Ryan looked at his gloves.
“What is he?”
“Ask him.”
“I did.”
“He said judo.”
Frank smiled.
“Ask better.”
Ryan found Eli near the lobby.
Denise was packing food-drive boxes into her car.
Eli was helping.
Ryan stood awkwardly.
“Hey.”
Eli looked up.
“Hey.”
Ryan shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.
“How long have you done judo?”
“Eleven years.”
“Competitions?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Denise answered from the trunk.
“A lot.”
Eli looked embarrassed.
Ryan smiled slightly.
“Any big ones?”
Eli hesitated.
Denise said:
“Junior nationals twice.”
Ryan looked at him.
“You medaled?”
“One year.”
“What?”
“Bronze.”
Ryan laughed.
Not mocking.
At himself.
“Some judo.”
Eli smiled.
“I didn’t know how much to say.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“People get weird.”
Ryan nodded.
Fair.
Then:
“Wrestling?”
“School team.”
“Varsity?”
“Yes.”
“What year?”
“Junior.”
“You seventeen?”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked at Denise.
She closed the trunk.
“His father coached judo.”
“Still?”
Denise’s expression changed.
“No.”
Eli looked down.
Ryan stopped.
“Sorry.”
Denise nodded.
“He died two years ago.”
“Cancer.”
Ryan looked at Eli.
The boy’s quietness made more sense now.
Maybe.
Or maybe Ryan was turning it into a story too quickly.
He asked:
“Why’d you come here?”
Eli answered:
“I want to learn striking.”