I wait.

I want.

The fight is there, and I want Rube to know that he’s in it as well. The second round has to convince him.

It begins hard again, with Rube miss-hitting two jabs. I follow, but miss with an uppercut. Rube gets annoyed. He tries to hook me, but it frees him up and I land the best punch of my life on his jaw, and …

He staggers.

He staggers, and I chase him to the neutral corner throwing my fists into his face, and slitting him once over his eye. He finds composure and fights his way out. Nothing hard lands though, and somehow, I stay out of his way the entire round. Once more, I find him on the chin. A good shot. A real good shot, and the round is mine.

‘You’re in a fight,’ I tell him. It’s all I say, and Rube looks into me.

He comes out even harder in the third, and he gets me on the ropes twice, but only a handful of punches reach their mark. His breathing is heavy and my own lungs are exhausted. When the bell goes, I fake a burst of energy and head straight for my stool. I glance over at Rube, as Perry talks to him. It’s the face of our mother when she gets up in the morning, ready for another double overtime shift. It’s the face of Dad that day down at the employment service. It’s the face of Steve, fighting in his own life and then for his father, simply saying, ‘Hi Dad.’ It’s the face of Sarah, dragging washing off the line with me. It’s my own face, right now.

‘He’s scared of losin’,’ Bumper tells me.

‘Good.’

In the fourth, Rube reacts.

He misses me just once, then opens me up several times. His left hand is especially cruel, pinning me into his corner. Only once do I get through him and clip his jaw again. It’s the last time.

By the end of the round, I’m against the ropes, just about gone.

When the bell goes this time, I find my corner, oh, miles and miles away and stagger towards it. I fall. Down. Into the arms of Bumper.

‘Hey buddy,’ he tells me, but he’s so far away. Why’s he so far away? ‘I don’t think you can go out for the last. I think you’ve had enough.’

I realise.

‘No way,’ I beg him.

The bell goes again and the referee calls us into the middle. One final handshake before the last round. It’s always the same … until today.

My head is jolted back by what I see.