Eden's story begins here!
002
Slowly but surely, she was pulled out of her heavy sleep by music. The familiar guitar riff of a rock ballad that told her someone was calling.
Eden groaned. She had ached on plenty of mornings, after training. And she had been in pain after tough fights. But this morning hurt more than any before. Eden suffered to sit up in bed and both hands clutched at her head as it beat like a heavy drum.
An ice pack, wrapped in an old t-shirt, lay next to her. It had fallen off her face in the night to defrost and dampen her bedding. Eden tenderly touched her face, only to wince and yank her hand away. She hurt like 200lbs of steel had smashed her face up the night before. The drum in her head continued to bang.
Her phone rang on the nightstand. Usually her favourite song, the ringtone made her head throb. Eden saw the clock on the corner of her nightstand and blinked. It had already gone midday, she had slept in past noon for the first time since she began her boxing training.
She picked up the phone with a shaky hand and swiped to answer the call.
“Hello?” Eden asked.
“You get home alright?” Coach asked.
“Oh, yeah,” she answered.
“Take it easy for the next few days, Eeds,” Coach said. “And after the weekend, we’ll see what kind of shape you’re in and if you’re ready to return to training.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I’m looking at a few fighters for your tenth match. And this is where it becomes an even bigger deal. You know you need twelve wins and to maintain a streak of at least three wins to be considered for a match against the national champion.”
“I know,” she said.
She heard Coach sigh. “Look, if you win these next three matches then your twelfth win will also be a streak. Three more fights and you could be eligible for a shot at the title. If you pull your shit together. So let’s get something clear, Eeds. I won’t coach you anymore, I won’t find you another fight, I won’t even walk on the same side of the street as you if you fuck up like that ever again.
“Start taking it seriously. They call this the last mile and it has broken a lot of fighters before you. Better fighters than you. If you can’t cut it then walk away now.”
“I promise, Coach, I won’t ignore you again,” she said. “You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“You’re damn right you will,” Coach said. “And you’ll never, ever, walk up to another fighter and dare to think that they’re not in that ring for any reasons less than your own. There are hungrier boxers in the game, more desperate fighters than you and some real crazy fuckers. You don’t have the luxury of underestimating anyone at any time. These are the big leagues and you need to start acting like it.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said.
“Can you do that?” Coach asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Can you do that?!” Coach shouted down the phone.
“Yes, Coach,” Eden said.
Then the line cut out. Coach hung up on her. She threw the phone onto her bedside table and lay back into the damp pillow.
She could not lay in bed all day, feeling sorry and licking her wounds. She got out only to drag her feet across the carpet and to the window. She pulled the curtains open and sunlight came pouring in. The drums crashed on the high hat and she had to take a second to gather herself. Eden yanked the curtains closed.
“Shit.”
With the curtains closed again, the only light came from the pale TV screen she had left on all night. A daytime commenter on the sports news channel was dragging over college rowing, a sport no one cared about so it was only talked about on a slow afternoon. She could barely remember the night before, coming home to collapse in bed as the sports channel waffled on about her match. Eden found the remote and switched the TV off. Her small bedroom was swallowed by the dark. She doubted anyone had anything good to say about her fight.
Reluctantly, Eden opened the curtains just a tiny bit to let a sliver of light in. Enough to see as she picked out clean clothes. She knew she needed to get clean but it would only cause her more pain to climb into her apartment’s tiny bath. So she got dressed and packed a gym bag with a change of clothes.
Eden stopped at her bedroom door. Her hand rested on the frame to keep her propped up. She was rarely one to hesitate. So with a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The shared apartment was small and overly cluttered after they had downsized from a bigger house a few years ago. It had two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, a living room, and a tiny kitchen. It also came with a leaky radiator that never got warm and a cracked window which whistled with a chill wind.
Sat on the second-hand sofa in the living room was her little brother.
“Hey Eeds, you’re awake-” he stopped as soon as he saw her face. “Shit, sis.”
Jayden hopped over the back of the sofa and dashed across the small living space to hug her. She gasped as his arms went around her battered body.
“I couldn’t watch the match but I thought you’d win,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I did win,” Eden said.
Jayden stepped back to look at her. “Did you tell your face? You’re purple.”
“Everyone keeps talking about my face,” Eden said. “Honestly, I nearly didn’t win. In the last round I messed up, took a stupid risk.”
“And your arms,“ Jayden said. He reached out to lay a gentle hand on her exposed forearm. “They’re black and blue.”
Her guard held for twelve steel pummelling rounds.
“Come on, Jayden, cut it out,” Eden said. “I’m headed out for a bit, going to shower at the gym. Do you need a lift anywhere on the way?”
“I paid the gas bill, you can have a bath here,” Jayden said.
“Thanks but I thought it would hurt to climb into our bathtub,” Eden explained. “Besides, I want to talk to Coach. He’s looking for fighters for my next match.”
Jayden shook his head and walked back to the sofa. He picked up the TV remote to idly flick through channels.
“What’s up?” Eden asked.
“Nothing.”
“Jay, what’d I say?” Eden pressed.
​
“Your next match, sis,” Jayden said without even looking at her. “You look like you went twelve rounds with a freight train and now you’re looking for the next one to hit you.”
​
“Jayden, we can’t afford train tickets. Have you seen the prices these days?” Eden said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Stop joking around,” Jayden snapped. “You should get going, I don’t want to see you like… this.”
She slammed the door behind her. Eden was down the stairs and out of the building before she could give herself the time to lose her temper at her little brother. Her coach, she could handle him. The old bastard always pissed her off. But Jayden had always had her back and now he was complaining about how she put food on the table.
She climbed into the car and slammed the driver's door shut. Then she put the key into the ignition but did not turn it. She waited, feeling it bubble up to the surface. Until it boiled over. Eden slammed her fist into the steering wheel and screamed. Then again and again, she beat the wheel. Her car horn blared across the street. Finally, she made one last tired hit and then let her head fall onto the steering wheel. Immediately she recoiled when her bruised face touched the leather wrapped wheel.
“Fuck sake,” she muttered to herself as she turned the ignition.
​
--- --- ---
​
The drive was peaceful enough. It proved to be a slow day on the roads as rain poured down on a lazy afternoon. Eden had always enjoyed the rain, she often found it to be soothing.
She pulled into the car park behind the gym, grabbed her bag, then headed inside. As far as gyms went, this one was not very glamorous. Damp marred the ceiling panels and cracks split the back wall. Duct tape held together the splintered corner posts of the ring. And faded red stains marked the ring floor. It did not need to be shiny to yield results. But Eden often wished it was cleaner. As a young teen she had come to this gym as her first job, cleaning and washing towels and emptying buckets.
She passed through the entrance hall to enter the main room. Even when mostly empty, the smell of sweat still lingered. Punching bags hung on metal struts along the left wall and weight racks lined the right side of the room. The middle was mostly mats. In times gone, a second ring stood beside the first at the back of the room, but when the floorboards broke it had to be dismantled and removed.
A young man beat a bag and he worked up a sweat. Otherwise the gym was empty.
“Hands, where's Coach?” Eden called out.
The young man paused his bag work to look at her. Andy, better known as Hands, had only recently joined the gym and was new to cy-boxing but he was a fast learner. Not to mention he was well over eight feet tall, weighed a solid 250 lbs of muscle, and had entirely replaced his arms with a steel chassis and carbon fibre casing. Coach had high hopes for his fledgling boxing career.
“He's in his office,” Hands answered. “I watched your match. You did great. You know, ‘til the end of that last round.”
“Thanks,” Eden said as she slung her bag down onto the nearest bench.
She left Andy to his workout and went around the room, past the weight racks, to the glass door tucked away in the back corner. Eden gently knocked on the door with dented metal knuckles. She would need to get the aluminium casing refurbished before her next fight.
“Andy, you’re not done with the bag for another twenty,” Coach yelled from the other side. “Get back to it, God knows you need it.”
“It’s Eden, Coach,” she said.
“Ah, shit,” she heard Coach mutter. “Ain’t you supposed to be resting? What happened to no longer ignoring me? Should ‘ave figured it wouldn’t last long.”
“No, I’m not here to train,” Eden said. “I came to use the showers, thought I’d save myself the pain of getting in and out of my tub at home.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Coach said. “Your winnings from last night can keep the boiler going for a little bit.” Eden smiled. “Hey, you still living in the squalid house atop the hill, past the bakery?”
“No, we moved out a few years ago,” Eden answered. “We moved to an even more squalid apartment. North side of town, across the river. It’s above the old library.” The old library was actually not a library at all. It was a magazine shop mostly frequented for booze and cigarettes. Apparently one of the oldest buildings in the city. “Rent is just as steep as the house was, though. I swear I’m paying for it be listed as a fucking historical site.”
“I’m surprised the old library is still standing,” Coach said. “Go get cleaned up and come see me after. Since you’re here, we may as well discuss your next fight.”
“Yeah, alright,” she said. “Thanks Coach.”
​
The shower block was back near the entrance, just off the hallway. She passed Hands without disturbing his bagwork and grabbed her stuff from the bench before going through to the hallway. There, she came to a stop at the doors to the shower block. Above the doorway was a plaque which read; Nothing worthwhile was ever gained without blood, sweat, and tears.” Sweat was not saving this gym from foreclosure. Eden had given money from all nine fights so far to help pay back Coach’s mortgage, keeping only enough to pay her bills at home and feed her family.
The entrance doors swung open and a short, stocky man stepped through. His blonde hair fell like a mop over his bruised face and that almost seemed familiar to Eden. Then she recognised the steel plates that covered his arms. She pummelled on that face just last night. He was the other fighter, Jamie-something. Eden never cared to remember her opponent's names.
“I'm not interested in a rematch unless it counts towards my twelve-and-three,” Eden said.
Jamie chuckled. “Rematches don't count, unfortunately. Otherwise I'd be restarting my last mile by beating you.”
“Slim chance,” Eden replied. “But if you're not looking for a rematch, then why’d you come here?”
“I don't need a rematch to know I'd beat you,” he said. “You were saved by the bell in the twelfth round. A moment longer and it would have been a knockout.”
“Hah! You were the one who needed a bell in the eleventh round,” she said. “I don't normally go for knockouts but you've got a jaw made of glass.”
“Let's be honest, girl,” he said. Eden dropped her bag and stepped towards him. “You only won because it's a sport, with rules. If you ever get the guts to fight me out of the ring, then I'll put you down.”
Eden closed the gap between them.
“It's poor conduct to harass fighters, at their gym, after you already lost a fight to them,” Hands said. Eden did not turn to look as Hands entered the hallway and paced towards them. “But if you're looking for a fight with no rules, then how does two against one sound?” Hands stopped beside Eden.
“Geez, what are you guys getting so bent out of shape for?” Jamie said.
“Why'd you even bother coming here?” Eden asked.
“I came to talk to your coach about training here,” Jamie said. “We could be gym buddies, so we'd all better start being nice to each other.”
“I don't think you'd fit in around here,” Hands said.
“You can walk yourself back out that door,” Eden chimed in.
“But that's not really for either of you to decide,” Jamie replied. “You know, money like mine could do a lot for a poor, run down, out of business gym such as this. I'm gonna go talk to your coach now. You should probably be training, Eden, you need it.”
Jamie tried to stroll past but Eden and Hands stood shoulder-to-shoulder, together they blocked most of the hallway. Instead, Jamie had to awkwardly sidestep past Eden. He gave her a smirk as he passed.
“Ignore him,” Hands said once Jamie had left the hallway. “Just focus on you and your boxing. We can't get distracted when we've got important matches coming up.”
“Yeah, fine,” Eden said as she picked up her bag and made for the doors to the shower block. She turned back to Hands. “You've got a match coming up?”
“Yeah, Coach found my first fight,” Hands said. “Said it'd be a learning experience for at least one of us.”
“Ah, fuck,” was all Eden had to say.
“He didn't tell you?” Hands asked.
“No, he said to talk to him after I've showered,” Eden answered. “We should probably be training separately for a time then.”
She left Hands in the hallway and went for an overdue shower.
--- --- ---
​
Eden knocked on the glass door with a metallic clack. She heard a grunt that was Coach telling her to enter, so she pulled the door open and stepped into his cramped office.
Hands sat across from Coach, separated by a desk which was far too big for the room. Around three of the four walls stood metal filing cabinets that cramped the already small room so that Eden had to squeeze behind Hand's chair to get to a seat of her own. She still had a towel draped over her shoulders as she dabbled at her hair.
“Hands already dropped the bomb,” Eden said and sat down.
Coach stared at her for a second. “That sorry fucking face…” Then he picked up a pair of brown paper folders. “If you know, you know. Normally, fighters don't go against other fighters from their own gym. So to keep the Cybernetic Boxing Association from breathing down our necks, we're going to do everything by the book. Dot every i and cross every t.” He handed a folder to each fighter. “All the info I'd normally give to my fighters, obviously on each other. Eden's got nine fights on record, so you'll see one folder is bigger than the other. Hands, you're an unknown quantity. We've not seen you fight yet. This could be the element of surprise fighting against an experienced boxer. Shit, I wouldn't know who to bet on.
“You'll have to alternate days at the gym. Eeds, you get Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Hands, you'll be in on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. You'll both rest on Sunday. The days you're not in the gym, you'll follow a strict itinerary, mostly cardio. I've emailed you both your new schedules. Any questions?”
“Yeah, Coach, I've got over 60lbs on her,” Hands said. “I'm not dropping weight for a friendly bout.”
Coach grunted. “Eeds, you're gonna have to put at least 10 lbs on. Rules say that fighters have to be within 50 lbs of each other, after the weight of cybernetics have been deducted. And you two need to get this clear. This will be the start of your 12, Hands, or the first of your mile, Eden. This is not a friendly bout.”
“I ain't dropping my perfect record,” Eden said. “Gym’s yours for today, get to work.”
“You're both in fighting shape and the CBA wants this done fast, so you've got three weeks to prepare and make weight,” Coach said.