“Yeah, well I’ve never seen you fight,” I said to the soldier.
“You invited me, do you remember? When you used to fight Speedy. You guys beat the hell out of each other with bare knuckles.
“I know. I loved doing that.”
“Yeah, well you invited me to come watch those fights but I didn’t consider it for a nanosecond. I hope I never see you fight. Ever! Matter of fact if you ever get in a fight and I’m around?”
“I’m going to leave. I’m going to be out of there like a rabbit, I just couldn’t stand it. Then you call me when it’s all said and done and I’ll come get you and survey the damage.”
“Yep. Same as when we were kids. You’d come home all bruised and it was gross. It was disgusting but you’d be happy as hell so what could I do? Want some ice on that, I’d ask?”
Speedy (Gonzales) was a friend of the soldier’s when we were kids. That’s his real (nick) name. I figure its okay to use it because Speedy was a Puerto Rican guy from the Bronx and I figure there are many more just like him. Not that Speedy did not distinguish himself, he did. The soldier says that to this day he was most fierce fighter he has ever faced.
“He pretty near kicked my ass a few times. Matter of fact he may have actually kicked my ass, it’s hard to say, we would beat each other so bad. If he did kick my ass, he’s the only man who ever did. Good ol’ Speedy.”
“Yeah, well I liked him too. He’s the one who knew to call me when you were dying. He’s the one who called me and said, Els. You better get over there, he’s gone insaaaaane. And he wasn’t stupid, he called you too. She’s coming! You know. So you could clear off if necessary…”
But here’s the thing: With Mars (fight) in Libra (art and doilies), I really can’t function on a bloody brawl. So when the soldier would be going off to fight Puetro Rican, Speedy, in my mind it would be â€˜West Side Story” like. I’d see all this choreography in my mind.
Such an imagination. The bruises and his busted up face was all fake too, I’m sure.