Tap Out (6 page)

A chime sounds, and most look over. I scan quickly. Good, no Dave. “Big Rob!” A man steps out from the back and crosses over the mat. He's short and bald and thick around the neck, chest, and legs. He smiles and looks at me. “This the new recruit?”

Rob nods.

The man stops short of us both and looks me over. “Tony, right?”

Now I nod and Rob gives me a look.

“Good to have you. Rob will take care of you tonight. We'll take it slow, but don't be afraid to ask questions.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I stop myself from brushing it off and nod. He claps his hands and turns to the room. “Keep stretching, we'll get cracking in ten.”

The guys on the floor resume their postures, mostly
lying on the ground or stretched out over a leg. “That's Coach Dan,” Rob says and we walk over to the only piece of furniture in the room, a small wooden bench. Shoes and gym bags are scattered beneath and around it. We pull off our shoes and then take a place on the mat, which takes up all but the space in front of the door. It's like the wrestling room at school. The same blue padding covers the lower half of the walls. Above is an American flag, and next to it is the Marine's. One of my mom's boyfriends was a Marine. That flag and “Semper Fi” are all I can remember of him. Well, those and his booming voice.

I look over and mirror Rob, stick my legs out in front of me and press my nose to my knees. The mat smells like feet and sweat and feels wet. Kind of like my house.

“'Sup Rob?” The guy who speaks is built like a motherfucker. Wide shoulders and sweet biceps. I feel even smaller than usual.

“Not bad. Bit sore.”

The guy laughs. “Same way every day.”

Another guy juts his chin toward us while the first nods. He's light-skinned, maybe Latino, and he extends a hand to me. “I'm Amir.”

I take Amir's hand. “Tony.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.”

The first guy does the same. “Shit, sorry man, sorry. I'm Phil.” I shake his hand and he waves toward the room. “You'll meet the rest as we go. Don't sweat it. We were all new once.” He pops over to a wall and stretches against it.

Fear rises up as I look around the room. I'm not the smallest in here, but I sure as shit am not the biggest. No one else looks like me though. They're all calm. It's fucked up.
They're all about to fight each other, but no one seems to give a shit.

Coach Dan steps to the middle of the mat. “All right, tonight we're focusing on takedowns, and I'd like you to work on these three.” Everyone is still, no more stretching, just intense focus. “Amir?”

Amir pops up and moves to the center with Coach. “Remember, it's all about leverage. So when I'm in the clinch, I want to force my opponent off his.” He wraps an arm around Amir's back and grabs his bicep with the other. “Remember your base. Feet just outside shoulders.” Coach Dan positions himself as he speaks. “Now you push.” He thrusts Amir away from his body. “He'll react and push back.” Amir does. “Once he moves into you, pull, then move your feet between his and roll him off to the side.” Coach pulls Amir like a doll and then rolls him onto the floor. He slides across his chest in the same movement. I wince at the
thwap
they make. No one else does.

“Let me show you again.” Coach and Amir demonstrate the move three more times and then Coach Dan pats Amir's shoulder. “All right, partner up.”

Rob stands. I get up next to him but feel like running. “Just relax.” He grabs me like Coach just did Amir, pushes, pulls, and in a flash, I'm flat on my fucking back. The air in my chest pinches and my teeth rattle.

“Shit.” I sit up.

Rob's smiling. “Make sure you extend an arm when you go down. It'll cushion your fall.”

“
Now
you tell me.”

Rob laughs. “Sorry.” He helps me up. “Your turn.”

We get into position, but I forget where the fuck to put my hands, so Rob shows me. “Widen your feet.” I do and Rob
laughs. “Hold up.” We separate. “Put your feet together.”

“The fuck you doing?”

“Just do it.”

Guys behind us turn to watch. Fuck. This better not make me look fucking stupid. I put my feet together, and Rob takes a step and shoves me hard in the chest. I fall to the fucking ground. My ass burns, and now I'm pissed. People are laughing. “The fuck was that?” Rob just smiles. I feel like wiping it off his face, but he extends a hand.

“Come on, I'll show you.” He helps me up. It takes all I can not to pull his fucking face to the floor. “You need to keep your feet wide so you have a solid base. Too narrow and you'll get knocked down like you just did. Too wide and you'll get your leg kicked out.”

Coach Dan appears but doesn't speak. The partners who stopped to look have resumed with slamming each other all over the fucking place. “So what do I do?”

“Jump. Like you're getting a rebound.”

I'm about to say something but Coach nods. I jump.

“Again.”

I do.

“Again.”

The fuck? But I jump.

“Now, look at your feet.”

They're under my hips.

“Move them out about one width of your foot.”

If it were anyone else but Rob, I'd tell 'em to suck it, but I slide my feet and look up.

“Bend your knees.”

I do and Rob charges me like before. His hand rocks into my chest, and I step back, but do not fall down. Coach smiles and so does Rob. “That's the way.” Coach Dan slaps Rob's
shoulder and walks over to another pair.

Rob's face is beaming, and I understand why he wants me here. He's good at this shit. He wants me to see him. But I already do, in Vo-Tec. He rocks that class. Huh, I wonder what it would be like to be so talented?

We get in the clinch again, and I get the feel. I roll Rob and we repeat the same steps a few times. It's awkward, but Rob tells me I'm doing all right.

Coach Dan shows us two variations on the move, and we pair up again and practice. It's fucked up. Guys around the room are holding on to each other like a bunch of drunk fucks learning how to dance. I'm sweating and breathing a little heavy, but I don't see how any of this would help me against Cam.

“All right, fighters to the middle.”

“That's me,” Rob says and darts to the center of the mat. I join all but Rob, Amir, and some other guy against the wall.

“Three lines, and don't worry, you'll rotate through all of them.” Coach looks toward the group, and Phil shows me the way. We form lines off each fighter, four to a line. I'm in Amir's.

“Now, these guys are up in a month, so give them hell. Take them down. Make them work.” He turns to the three. “Ready?” They pop into their stances, and I examine the pose: lowered hips, extended arms, bent at the elbows, hands open. “Go!”

The first guys in line move so fucking fast I don't know what the fuck's what. I watch Rob. The kid against him stabs with one arm, reaching for a wrist. With the other, he tries to get around Rob's head. I'd punch a fuck if this were real, trying that shit, but I guess there's none of that tonight. Shit, why aren't they wearing gloves?

Rob slips and slides and counters the kid's moves until
he manages to grab a leg and take the guy to the ground. They end up in a heap on the floor but pop up, slap hands, and the next guy in line bolts out.

The process repeats, and now it's my turn with Amir. He's sweating, breathing heavy, red around his face like he's been slapped, and looking pissed. I freeze. He's twice my size, easy, just fucking jacked. Rob and the other guy are already tangling with their opponents.

“Go on, Tony. Take it slow. He's tired. Make him work.” Coach Dan nudges me from the side. I step out. Amir lowers his stance. I do the same. The guys behind me yell. “Come on, Tony.” “Get into him.” I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, so I go low and try to get in the clinch like we practiced before. Amir gets my neck, and I can't breathe. The ceiling comes into view, and then I'm on my back, just like before. But gently. Not like with Rob. Amir just laid me down. Didn't slam me. No shit? This fuck could have fucking broken my spine. I stand up with Amir's help and the crew claps.

“Nice job, Tony.”

“Way to get at it.”

I didn't do shit, so why are they clapping? Maybe on my first night it's all right. I move to the end of the line for the next dude and pay real close fucking attention. I watch how the guys tease each other, trying to get the other to grab an arm, lose his balance, and then end up on the floor. Or the way they get a hold of the neck and then don't fucking let go. Pull and push until they pop and drive the fucker down.

I get my turn with the second dude, Mike. “Dildo” they call him. He's like a fucking broomstick, but he can reach me standing against the back wall. I approach, get low, and keep my base. He reaches and grabs, and I slap his hand away. I watched him while I was waiting, saw how he's got nothing
with his left, only his right. I reach toward the tucked-up arm, and he stretches out over me for my neck. His long-ass arm is an inch from my face. I grab the bicep, push it to his side and tuck down, and get the back of his waist and roll.

He's on the ground! Holy Shit! He looks up at me, fucking lost. Behind me all the guys inhale. “No shit?” someone says. “Muthafucka.” Then they rip into applause. Somebody slaps my back, and Dildo stands up. He's pissed, but then he smiles. “All right newb. I'll take you serious from now on.” He slaps hands with me, and I feel good. In fact, I haven't felt this way in, shit, I don't know how long. Yeah, Rob's onto something. Maybe Big O, too?

The door chime sounds, and everyone looks over. My stomach drops.

“Sorry I'm late. Got caught up at the gym talking to this bitch.” Dave pulls off his sweatshirt and pants. He's sweating and wearing the same gear as everyone else, but way fucking nicer. His TAPOUT shorts look brand new, and his Under Armour is just that, the real deal, not the knock-off shit everyone else has on. “What I miss?”

Coach Dan steps forward. “Takedowns. You warm enough to demonstrate?”

“Fuck yeah.” Dave bounces onto the mat.

“Rob?”

Rob steps forward. Dave squares to him, and the rest of us step back. This is totally fucked. I don't know how I did, but I forgot all about this douche. And now? Fuck, I should just leave. But, I can't. This is part of my deal with the big man. I've got to stay, if only for Rob. He deserves that much.

“Go!” They do, and I stick right where I am. Dave's fast as fuck, but Rob keeps countering. Dave gets insanely low and reaches out. Rob backs up, but it's too late, Dave's got him
around the knees. Rob pitches back and, fuck, he's on the ground. But, shit, Dave's twitching like crazy. Rob's got a leg looped around Dave's neck, and the douche's face is turning red. He's flailing but getting nowhere. Rob's locked his feet at his ankles. Coach Dan moves to them. “Tap out, Dave.”

Dave keeps squirming.

Behind me the guys are murmuring. “Squeeze, Rob.”

“Take his fucking head off.”

“Dave, tap!” Coach is now lying on the mat next to him. Rob doesn't let up, but looks back at his coach. Dan nods. Rob's face goes still for a second, like he just remembered some shit he had to do. Then he loosens his hold and slides away from Dave. Dave wriggles up and gets back into position like nothing happened.

“Dave, you're done. I told Rob to release.”

“What the fuck, Coach? I didn't tap!” Spit flies from his mouth.

“You should have. You would have passed out in another five seconds.” Coach Dan doesn't blink. He doesn't look anywhere else but at Dave's face. But Dave won't look him in the eye.

“You don't know that.”

Coach Dan's face goes hard. “Yes. I do.” He waits a moment and then turns to Rob. “Nice job.”

The room claps for Rob, but I watch Dave. His eyes dart around the room and find me. He looks me over and steps forward. “Thought I heard you were coming.” Dave grips my shoulder and squeezes. I wince. “Now I get to see how soon your pussy ass taps. My uncle will love hearing about that.”

I don't look at him. Don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear on my face. I turn to Coach Dan instead. “Are we still rotating lines?”

He smiles and claps his hands. “Tony's right. Fighters, back into position. Dave, hop in.”

I step away from Dave and move to Rob's line. Motherfucker, I was feeling all right, but now? Shit,
this
is exactly what I didn't want. I look over my shoulder at him, trying to chat up the guys, but most look like they'd rather be in a choke hold. They may not feel as I do, but at least they don't seem to like him.

Coach claps his hands. “Ready?” The group nods. “Go!” The guy in front of me takes on Rob and gets laid out in two seconds. Fuck, now it's my turn. My head's not right for this, but I approach.

Rob's breathing heavy, covered in sweat, and he's bright red from the neck up. I get low, then lower. He doesn't bend though, just stands tall, feet close together. Fuck, I don't need any moves for this. I rush him, and he steps back, stumbles. I get a hand around his neck and pull his head into my body. I'm about to Atomic Bomb his ass when he brings an arm up through and rips an elbow off my temple. I jump away. My head stings, and the room's blurry, but I see Rob coming at me. I slap away one hand, but he grabs my wrist with the other.

“All right, Tony!”

“Come on!”