He is so different than the BJ I know, I am actually shocked.
The way he angles his head forward combined with his shoulders rounded and his hands slightly curled at the elbows reminds me of a charging bull. At that moment he is the most coldly aggressive man I have seen in my life. He doesn’t look at the crowd. He has eyes only for his opponent. My gaze skitters over to The Devil’s Hammer. He is holding his hands up in readiness and jabbing the air while jumping around with quick nimble steps, but in his eyes, I see fear. In his head he has already lost. The only question left is how badly he’s going to lose.
BJ steps into the pit and … and like a bull rushes towards him. It is an ambush, clear and simple. Blows rain on the unprepared man’s body so quickly and so relentlessly he is overwhelmed by the ferocity of the attack. The Devil’s Hammer flails uselessly. One power punch catches him flush on the chin and he flies backwards, landing on one of the hay bales. The crowds bays its approval. But The Devil’s Hammer is not beat. There is life in him yet. He pulls himself up painfully, and lunges unsteadily towards BJ.
BJ stands still. Like a bull readying itself for a matador. He doesn’t move a muscle. And suddenly I know what he is going to do. It’s the oddest thing, but I do. He is going to land the punch that puts The Devil’s Hammer to sleep. At the exact moment, as The Devil’s Hammer prepares to throw his own punch, I open my mouth, and with all the power in my lungs, scream BJ’s name.
‘BILLY JOE PILKINGTON.’
Every person in the barn turns startled eyes in my direction. But my eyes are on BJ. He has turned towards my voice, an expression of total incomprehension on his face. I am the last person in the world he expects to see. His eyes find me and he looks as if he has seen a ghost. The Devil’s Hammer’s punch lands. It socks him in the face. A direct hit. The momentum causes BJ to stagger back slightly. His eyes rush away from me. When he straightens, he is an avenging angel.
He is so furious he looks as if he wants to tear the other man’s head off. BJ pummels his opponent with such barbaric brutality that I have to close my eyes. I hear the dull thud of the man falling, then the crowd going crazy. I feel hot and claustrophobic. My heart is beating too fast. I turn towards Ria.
She looks at me strangely. ‘Congratulations,’ she says. ‘You won your bet.’
I nod. People are giving me sidelong glances. I’ve made a spectacle of myself, but I don’t feel embarrassed. In fact, I feel oddly detached. I think I am shocked at myself. At the harm I have caused to another. I have never harmed another human being before. I even hate it when I accidentally snap an insect or a frog in the garden with my hoe.
‘Can I borrow a cigarette?’ I ask Ria.
‘Sure.’ She gives me a packet. ‘The lighter is inside,’ she says.
‘Thanks,’ I say with a tense smile, and pushing my way out of the barn, go outside. It is freezing. I don’t normally smoke, but I feel jittery. Even my hands are shaking. I walk to the side of the barn and light a cigarette. I have taken only one puff when I feel the air around me change. Become thicker. I turn my head slowly. Our eyes touch.
‘Are we quits now?’ BJ asks.
His left cheekbone is badly swollen and starting to discolor. I turn away from his cold, cold eyes. I feel raw. ‘Yeah, we’re quits.’
‘Can I have one?’
I fit my cigarette between my lips and hold open the cigarette packet. He takes one. There is blood on his hand.
‘Does it hurt?’ I ask.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m buzzing.’
I flick open the lighter and hold the flame up to him. My hand is shaking. His other hand comes up to cup the flame. In the intimate glow, I see the heat rise from his skin like steam. And I smell the sweat and the trace of endorphins and adrenaline radiating from it. Our eyes meet again and we stare at each other. Yes, I am shocked, and yes, I am shaken, but there is something else struggling to show its face. He inhales, the cigarette burns orange, and I kill the flame with a click.
I turn away, dropping the lighter back into the packet. I return my forefinger and middle finger back on either side of my cigarette and inhale a lungful of warm smoke. It makes me feel light-headed. I exhale it out slowly and put my hand down to the side of my body. There is a foot between us, and an unmistakable element of danger. Like being on one of those roller coasters that inverts you. You are scared to death and unbelievably excited at the same time.
I grasp that I’m not only aroused by the violence I witnessed in the pit, I am excited by the tightly packed, rippling muscles of his body. He is giving off vibes that are calling to me. My life-long hatred of him seems to belong to another place and time. By a strange trick of the light it has morphed into an intense desire to meld my body with his. Shocked by that realization and super aware of him, I carry on staring out into the empty frozen fields.