The wood clacked again and Joseph was pushed to his feet. He wanted only to flee, but Michael was already crossing the ring with renewed intensity. His glove and bare fist were in motion, his damp hair sticking to his sweat-glazed forehead. Joseph tried to ward off the next round of blows, but his arms seemed to crumple under the force. Michael’s punches landed repeatedly on Joseph’s head and neck until Joseph curled over to protect his stomach and take the worst on his back. Through the din of his body he could hear the rest of the boys chanting his name, urging him to fight back.

“Joseph! Come on!”

“Michael! Waste on him! Waste that puss!”

His mistake was trying to stand up. Given the smallest crevice of an opening, Michael managed to land an uppercut and knocked him backward. For a long moment, Joseph’s entire body was catapulted into the air. His feet leaped out from under him and his weight redistributed from bottom to top. He hit the dirt, and pain shot through his spine. His arms slapped the earth and he could hear the scuttle of pebbles under his outstretched legs.

For a second the whole world became still. The crowd waited. Michael staggered, slightly shocked by the dexterity of his own punch. He loomed over Joseph, hips thrust forward, glove hanging at his side. Sweat beaded his face. His victory was all but complete.

Joseph tried not to cry but the twitching muscles were beyond his control. He swallowed, holding back, but he was too far gone. He felt his shoulders shudder and his face erupted in hot tears.

“Jo-seph! Jo-seph! Jo-seph!”

Ronnie pulled Joseph to his feet and tried to get him to keep fighting, but his body refused to cooperate. He was sobbing too hard. Eventually Ronnie gave up and left Joseph huddled in his corner and crossed the ring to declare Michael the winner.

Michael was not a gracious winner. He pumped his fists and hollered as the gambled money exchanged hands. Then, mercifully, the boys swept off to 7-Eleven for celebratory candy and Big Gulps. Joseph, defeated, ignored, sat in the dirt. A few of the boys ambled by and patted him on the back on their way out.

Tony was the last to approach. He sidled over and crouched down. Joseph wiped his nose with the back of his arm and wiped his arm on his shirt. Through the shame and exhaustion his spirit surged with gratitude at Tony’s attention.

“You all right?” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Joseph said.

“You did good today,” Tony said.

“I did not,” Joseph said.

“You did. You fought hard. You got in some good hits.”

“Barely.”

“No way, man. You nailed him. I saw it. You couldn’t see his face. He was out of it.”

“Nah.”

“I’m telling you. I saw it.”

Joseph sighed wetly and hid his smile in his shoulder.