บท 38: May-December | Chapter Eight
The gym was bigger than Kyle had expected. It had a nice basketball court that doubled as a long tennis court. The edges had painted tracks on them, and the bleachers rounded the corners, but that wasn't where he and Chaska were headed. The younger man led him to the room beside the gym teacher's office. Inside, there was a small boxing ring, and to the side, there were old fights dummies that had their foams sticking out on various sides.
Kyle settled down on one of the only stray plastic chairs that didn't look like it would fall apart if someone sat on it. Chaska took off his shirt, making Kyle stare a bit before looking down at the carpeted floor.
He heard a laugh, and then a gentle sigh. "You can look." Were the words Chaska spoke. Kyle raised his head, watching as the man hurled one of the dummies into the boxing ring before he put on his gloves and went into action.
His strikes were hard, fast, and perfectly timed. "Do you want to join me?" Chaska asked, looking up with a grin. Kyle winced at being at the receiving end of any of the man's blows.
"I'll pass," he said, remembering to keep his voice high as he crouched forward and interlaced his fingers. He watched the tan-skinned man shake his head at him in disappointment.
"I won't hit you, we'll both hit the dummy," he muttered, pointing a hand towards the poor thing. Now Kyle knew why some parts of it had torn open to let out some stuffing.
"I don't know how to box," Kyle muttered, watching Chaska bounce around the ring while punching the air. He had a focused look on his face as he paced around the ring muttering something under his breath. Kyle didn't miss the smile that played on his lips. It seemed this was where Chaska was happiest, and it both puzzled and fascinated him.
"It's not hard," the man said, pursing his lips as he stood still and paced his hands on his waist. "If I show you a couple of stances and how to throw a punch, you'll be good to go," he said, smiling. His breathing was labored from his workout. His chest visibly rose and fell. The confirmation that it wasn't only his hands that were built was right in front of the older man. Kyle looked away, picking at the baby hairs on his hairline as he thought about his offer.
"Give me thirty minutes," Kyle said, and Chaska nodded, taking a few steps backward.
"Okay, thirty minutes and you have to join me," he said, pointing a glove towards me before turning towards the practice dummy to deliver a series of kicks and punches.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said in a raspy voice, crouched over a bit as he stared at the ring's floor. "When you were in school what were you like?" he asked, not waiting for Kyle to answer his first question.
Kyle looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember. He never did much. He had a handful of 'friends' that he didn't meet up with after school hours. Apart from doing well in woodwork and electrical installation, Kyle sucked at school. His first option had been to get into college outside town, but that didn't work out. So, he just packed up and left, hoping things would go his way, which they did.
"I wasn't the brightest," he started, and Chaska snorted, shaking his head.
"Really? Doesn't look like it," Chaska mumbled. "I don't really know much about your situation, but Otis sounds like he went to a really good school before." The expensive was implied. Chaska gave the dummy another round of punches before looking over at the clock hanging by the door.
"Yeah, he did," Kyle muttered. "I was still a mechanic then. I've always been a mechanic," Kyle added, watching Chaska circle the dummy. "My wife helped me out with most of the technical stuff before I picked it up myself. I'm grateful to her." The older man found himself smiling as he played with his fingers. Chaska stopped what he was doing to look at him. He pulled down the strings at the end of the boxing ring, climbing over them before walking over the stand in front of Kyle.
"Why did you get divorced?" he asked, his voice not as high as usual. Kyle sighed, throwing himself back on the plastic chair as he looked up at the white ceilings. It was around six in the evening now, and the sun rays had dimmed, leaving most of the light to be provided by the fluorescence bulbs in the room.
"I don't know." Kyle was being honest. He wasn't exactly sure, but he had his guesses. His friends had told him it was most definitely because of his bankruptcy but Kyle begged to differ. Anastasia had been there for him when he was still nothing more than the manager of a little mechanic shed. She'd been an assistant attorney with her life set out in gold for her. What did money matter to her? She still had lots of it.
If Kyle had to put the blame on anyone, he would put it on himself. He'd worked so hard on micromanaging the business chain that he had neglected his wife and Otis. When things fell apart and Kyle had more time to spend at home the realization that he didn't know his wife anymore, and his wife didn't know him had started to settle in. They were roommates under a roof, and at that moment he had been the one leaching off her.
He guessed she'd had enough and decided to call it quits.
"Hey." Kyle felt a soft blow on his shoulder. He looked to his side to find Chaska staring down at him with a little frown. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Kyle said, shrugging his shoulders before hugging himself. His words had come out shaky, making them ironic. He wasn't fine. He was far from it. He had thought that ignoring the feelings surrounding him and his Anastasia's separation would make things easier to let go of, but evidently, they didn't.
Kyle heard a sigh, and then some rustling. There was a light punch on his shoulder, and this time when he looked up Chaska was holding a pair of red boxing gloves in one hand, and his black ones in the other.
"Your thirty minutes are up," the younger man said with a slight smile. Kyle mirrored his expression, reaching out to take the gloves before putting them on and getting off the plastic chair. Chaska playfully hit him on the side, making Kyle raise his hand to block the weak punch. They both laughed, and Kyle followed Chaska into the ring when the man pulled down the strings and hopped in.
Like Chaska promised he showed him some basic stances and proper form before letting him make hits at the dummy. Kyle was starting to figure out why Chaska loved this so much. There was something relieving about throwing punches at the dummy. You could take out your anger on it. You could picture it as everything that burdened you in life, and imagine yourself getting rid of it all. For the most part, Kyle pictured himself. He was the common denominator to why everything around him was falling apart. If he had paid some attention maybe he would have sent in some money before his father died. If he had paid some attention his son wouldn't seem like a stranger to him. If he had paid some attention things with Anastasia wouldn't have fallen apart. If he had paid some attention maybe he would be able to repay his mother for all her effort.
If he had just paid some attention.
"You're going to break off its arm, Kyle. Softer." Chaska's voice made Kyle come out of his thoughts. His breathing was labored now and sweat had formed on his brows and hairline.
"You did great," Chaska muttered, coming up to him. The man's gloves were off, and his shirt was back on. Kyle had been so focused on the dummy that he hadn't noticed when Chaska had wandered off to pack up.
"What time is it?" Kyle asked, looking around the room. It was dark outside the windows now, and the temperature had dropped a bit.
"It's eight."
Kyle blinked. He'd been taking out his anger on the punching dummy for two hours.
"Yeah, I know, time sort of flies," Chaska muttered as his eyes moved to Kyle's shirt.
"I should have told you to take off your shirt first," the younger man sighed, poking at one of the many patches of sweat on Kyle's top. "I can borrow you a shirt, we look about the same size," Chaska offered, holding Kyle's gaze. The older man only nodded, still a bit dazed from the workout.
Chaska stepped out of the ring again, but this time he took the dummy with him. He returned the dummy to its corner of the room before disappearing into what Kyle assumed was a locker room. The blond man stepped out from the ring and sat on the floor as he waited for Chaska to come back. The dark-haired man returned with a plain white shirt.
"It's a little snug on me. I'm not sure how it'll look on you," Chaska muttered, tossing it to Kyle who caught it before stretching it out to have a look. He took off his sweaty shirt, using it to dab the sweat on his face and chest before he started to wear Chaska's head first, and hands second.
"Do you want some water?" Kyle looked over at Chaska when he had worn the shirt he'd been given.
Chaska was holding a water bottle in his hand. "Hmm?" He added, shaking the bottle a bit. Kyle nodded, getting up from the floor before heading over for a sip. Chaska screwed the cap of the bottle close when they were done. The headed out of the school's gym. Walking out of the old school building with a flat roof and a red brick exterior.
When they got in Kyle's car Kyle turned on the radio. Chaska hummed at the music, making Kyle turn to still a glance at him before turning to look ahead.
"Can I ask you something?" the blond in the driver's seat asked as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Sure," Chaska replied as Kyle drove out of the school's parking lot and out into the main road.
"Was this a date?"
Chaska seemed to freeze on his seat at that question. The hands that he'd been using to clap along to the beat were now nested on his lap. His eyes had gone wide, and his lips parted.
"Sure, if you wanted it to be," he ended up saying and the car went silent.
There it was again. That awkward nonchalance.
Kyle felt confused, but he didn't say anything. He just kept driving, hoping that he could hold on to the whirlwind of emotions long enough to drop Chaska off and go home. He didn't know why Chaska was being like that. It hurt more than he'd like to admit.
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