‘There has to be … You might be dirty and down low, and not much of a winner, but …’

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He just looks into the evening, and I can only speculate on what he might say. I hope it’s something like ‘but you’re big-hearted’, or ‘but you’re a gentleman’.

Nothing, however, is said.

Maybe the words are the silence.

14

When you lean against a wall and the sun’s setting, sometimes you just stand there and watch. You taste blood but you don’t move. Like I said, you let the silence speak. Then you go back inside.

‘Twenty bucks tip money,’ Perry informs me, handing me a bag when everything’s over.

‘Huh,’ I retort. ‘Pity money.’

‘No,’ Perry warns me. He always looks like he’s warning you. This time he’s telling me to shut up and take the compliment.

‘It’s pride money,’ says Bumper. ‘Walkin’ through the crowd like that. They appreciate that more than my win, more than Rube’s win, more than all of ‘em put together.’

I take the money. ‘Thanks Perry.’

‘You’ve got four more fights,’ he tells me. ‘Then your season’s over, right? You deserve the break, I reckon.’ He shows Rube and me a sheet of paper that’s a competition ladder. In his other hand he holds the draw. On the ladder, he points out where Rube is. ‘See, you came in three fights late, but you’re still on top. You’re the only one who hasn’t lost a fight.’

Rube points at the name sitting on second. ‘Who’s Hitman Harry Jones?’

‘You’re fightin’ him next week.’

‘He good?’

‘You’ll drop him easy.’

‘Oh.’

‘Look there, he’s had two losses. One of ‘em was against the bloke you fought tonight.’

‘Really?’

‘Would I say it otherwise?’

‘No.’

‘Well shut up then.’ Perry grins. ‘The semi-finals are comin’ up in four more weeks.’ The grin leaves him. Immediately. Now he’s serious. ‘However …’

‘What?’ Rube asks. ‘What?’

Perry pulls us both aside. He speaks slow and genuine. I’ve never heard him speak like this. ‘There’s only one slight problem — it’s in the last week of the regular comp.’

Rube and I both look at the draw closely.

‘See it?’ Perry sticks a finger on Week Fourteen. ‘I’ve decided to be a bit of a bastard.’

I see it.

So does Rube.

‘Oh man,’ I say, because right there on the page for Week Fourteen in the lightweight division, it says WOLFE vs WOLFE.

Perry tells us. ‘Sorry fellas, but I couldn’t help it. There’s just something about brothers fighting, and I wanted the last week before the semi-finals to be memorable.’ He’s still genuine. Just talking business. ‘Remember, I said there was a slight chance this might happen. You said it wouldn’t be a problem.’