Tough Love in Thailand

"Tom I am *not* fighting a girl."

I'm incensed; I'm so damn frustrated. This is *not* what I agreed to. Tom Jeffries might be my best friend, but right now I'm about ready to hit him.

He holds out his hands in an attempt to calm me down, looking so fucking stupid in his ringmaster's top hat. "Whoa, buddy. First of all she's a *woman*, you sexist. Second, look, she's a fighter just like you, this is what she does. It's not a big deal, okay? She was supposed to fight a guy anyways, but Liam didn't show. Third...listen man, I want to pay you! I know you need it. You flew a long way over for this. I'm sorry the fight with Suzuki fell through, I really am. I still want to give you an opponent though -- I can give you your show money since you made weight, but I need you to fight and win to get the whole purse. Right? That's how it goes, so here it is, I got somebody for you. Nok's opponent didn't show up, your opponent didn't show up...it's perfect, you can fight each other! You wanted a comeback fight, didn't you? Well here you go!"

I shake my head in utter disbelief. "You're fucking kidding me man. Yeah I wanted a comeback fight -- against *Suzuki*, a real fucking opponent, you know? Tom I'm not coming out of retirement to beat up a gir-- a *woman*. What the fuck was the point of making weight if she's half my size? I could hurt her Tom, and I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna be known as that guy who came out of retirement just to beat up a lady."

He sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder; I brush it off. He does it again and I growl, but he doesn't budge. "Jeff, listen to me bud. I'm sorry about this, I really am -- you know I'm trying to do right by you, right? But we can only play the hand we've been dealt here. Something got fucked up with the translation, I don't know, but the point is Suzuki isn't here. You are, and so is Nok. So let's just do this then, huh? Check it out, I'll throw in Liam's purse as a bonus -- that stupid fucker has stood me up for the last time. Add all that up and...well, that's a nice chunk of change for you man. All you gotta do is go out there and fight with her for a few rounds, okay? You don't gotta hit her that hard, just make it look good, you know?"

Around us, a few early fans have started to filter into the gymnasium, Tom's film crew getting their cameras ready. I look longingly at the kickboxing ring in the center of the space and let out a big, held-in breath.

Tom's face splits into a smile and he slaps me on the back. "Alright, *there* he is! Jeff 'the Titan' Tatum, back in action! Look, I'll draw up a new contract real quick, it'll all be legit, don't worry."

I shake my head glumly. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Other fighters roam the big open room, stretching out and warming up. One in particular catches my eye -- mostly because she's staring at me menacingly, looking like she wants to kill me. She's a Thai woman from the look of her, shaking out her sun-bronzed thighs while her cornerman wraps her hands. She may be small but she looks tough and lean, and her gaze never wavers as I look her over.

"Is that Nok?" I nod over in the woman's direction.

Tom glances up and grins. "Huh? Oh, yeah. She's intense, huh?"

"Yeah...does she know we're fighting?"

He laughs. "Yeah of course she does, what's it look like? I told her first."

I round on him, exasperated. "You what?! But I hadn't even agreed--"

"Yeah yeah yeah," he cuts me off with a wave of his hand, scribbling out our new agreement on a napkin. "I knew you were gonna, though. And hey, at least she didn't bitch and moan about it like you did."

I glare at him. "No?"

"No. She just said she's gonna beat your old ass and send you back to the States."

Fucking great.

*

Tom struts around the ring like he owns the place, hyping the crowd up with his pre-fight announcements. The top hat looks great on him now, I gotta admit.

He'd been a middling kickboxer all those years we'd trained together back in Japan, but over here in Thailand he's really found a home in promotion. 'Tom Jeffries MMA Carnival' is what he calls his show, and he's really been doing quite well with it. He specializes in what are called 'freakshow fights': weird matchups you never knew you wanted to see, weird rulesets you never knew existed. A big guy and a little guy. No-Hands Grappling. Bicycle Boxing, Midget Muay Thai. Ring-girl Red Rover. Weird shit like that...you name it, Tom's tried it.

And yes, of course, there are mixed-gender fights. I think they're tasteless, personally; I don't need to see a man hit a woman. But what the fuck do I know? I'm about to take part in one.

As the lights dim and Tom starts to announce us, I feel a chill go down my spine. I hadn't realized how much I missed this -- the anticipation right before a fight, the crowd chanting your name. Shit, I almost feel like tearing up. If I close my eyes I can imagine I'm back in Tokyo, back in the jam-packed RX Super Arena fighting the biggest, baddest guys on the planet: Aziz Alkari. 'Mongolian' Mo. Enrique 'the Ghost' Perez. And my old rival, 'Cyclone' Suzuki, the fighting pride of Japan, the toughest of them all.

Except...we're not in Japan anymore, are we? I open my eyes and look around the rinky-dink gymnasium Tom's rented for his show, and I can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. There's only a few hundred people here -- most of the viewership is online. He makes it look good for the cameras, but the place is kind of falling apart.

I feel let down again as I look across the ring. It's not Cyclone who's lined up there, ready for an epic fifth battle, ready to try and break my leg again. No...no, it's little Nok, the Nak Muay from a few towns over, from a gym whose name I can't pronounce. She's staring me down still, somehow even more intense as Tom shouts her name to the crowd. She's got guts, I'll give her that; she's tough and fearless, I can see it. But that's not always a good thing. In this business, tough and fearless gets you sent to the hospital more often than not.

The bell rings, and suddenly I'm fighting again for the first time in six years. I thought it would feel different, I thought it would feel good; I thought it would be like coming home. Instead I'm stressed, worried. Scared. Not for myself -- for my opponent. Somehow I need to win this fight without hurting her, without looking like a dick, and I haven't quite figured out how I'm gonna do that yet.

She comes out fast, bouncing around the ring, circling me, looking for openings. She's quick -- and she'd better be. I've got over a foot in height on her, I weigh well over a hundred pounds more. If I hit her the way I used to hit Suzuki, she's gonna go flying.

So I sit in my guard and wait, seeing what she'll do. She circles and floats, throwing a few lightning-fast leg kicks, keeping out of my reach. Smart of her; I check two, I take one. She might be small but her kicks still sting.

I go to block her fourth kick...except it's a fake. Suddenly she's inside, gliding in off the feint and throwing a blistering six-punch combination -- head head head body body head -- punctuated by another low kick. The crowd goes nuts, even though I block most of it.

"Buddy we gotta work here! Throw some strikes, don't freeze up on me!" Tom shouts from my corner. I grit my teeth -- it had seemed like a good idea to let him corner me, but that was when I thought I was fighting Suzuki. Now, I'm not sure I want to hear from him.

Nok sideskips and circles, keeping out of my reach, peppering me with kicks and mixing in well-timed blitzes. She's good...she's really good. I can't help but admire her as she rushes in, eyes shining with a genuine desire to hurt. It's been awhile since I've seen someone look like that.

By the end of the first round the crowd is getting restless -- mostly cause I haven't done a damn thing. I sit on the stool and Tom rubs out my neck, squirting some water in my mouth.

"Jeff, buddy, listen," he says, looking at me anxiously. "I know this is tough for you. I know you don't wanna hit her. I know you wanted a real fight, I know you wanted Suzuki. I know this isn't what you came out of retirement for. I get all that. But this *is* a fight, man. A fight you're gonna *lose*, if you don't do anything. And if you do, I'm gonna have to give *her* the money I wanted to give to *you*. You got that? So we gotta work man. I know you didn't come all the way over here to lose to a girl."

Nok's watching me from across the ring, nodding to her cornerman's advice, looking as intense as ever.

"I thought she was a woman," I reply.

Now it's Tom's turn to look like he wants to hit me. "Hey, shut the fuck up and fight man. Look, you don't gotta hit her in the head. Go to the legs, go to the body. Push her over, knock her on her little ass. You can do this -- you don't gotta hurt her, but you do gotta win. Okay?"

Fuck. Fuck I hate it when he's right. Godammit.

He slaps me on the shoulders as the bell rings for round two. "Go get her, buddy. Don't put her in the morgue...but let her know who she's fighting, huh? People wanna see The Titan back in action again. Let's show it to 'em."

*Fuck*.

Fine. I stand up, ready for round two.

*Fine. It's a fucking fight; let's do it.*

*

I win on points. Nok's striking is superb -- her combinations are fast, crisp and fluid. She moves well, she attacks often, she counters ferociously. She shows fakes; she never tires.

None of that really matters, though. I'm too big, she can't hurt me; I can block almost everything she throws, and I can sweep or throw her down basically at will. The few light jabs I land jack her head back, my leg kicks almost knock her off her feet, and I put her down a few times with body shots. Not full power...but strong enough.

I don't really feel good about it, even as Tom slaps me on the back afterwards.

"Buddy that was perfect! When you landed that liver shot, man you almost looked like your old self. We'll get Suzuki out here next time, and you'll be ready for him. It's gonna be great..."

I just grunt in response, watching Nok walk stoically from the ring. Hoping I didn't hit her too hard. I know I just won, but I can't help feeling like kind of a loser.

Tom pats me again then heads off to get ready for the next fight. I go outside; I need some air.

Unfortunately it's just as hot and humid outdoors -- it is Thailand, afterall. I emerge into a busy side street, chickens clucking, motorbikes scooting past, vendors calling out their wares. I can't stop sweating and I start to walk around, looking for the showers.

I find them after a minute, in a small dilapidated building beside the gymnasium. Apparently I'm not the only one with the same idea -- Nok is there, leaning against the wall, unwrapping her hands.

I freeze. I don't really want to walk past her. I feel...guilty, in a way. I didn't enjoy the fight, and I'm not proud of myself for taking it. I know it's what Tom wanted, and supposedly what she wanted too...but still. It wasn't a fair matchup, not even close.

I linger for a moment, unsure of myself, until I'm struck by a stupid idea; not knowing what else to do, I follow through on it. I head across the street to one of vendors and buy her a flower, a nice white one. I don't know the type.

"Hey Nok...ummm...good fight," I say, awkwardly offering it to her as I approach.

Her brown eyes dart up to me, then glance down at what's in my hand. She squints in a disdainful way, sniffs, and goes back to undoing her wraps. Her shorts and tank-top are rolled up, revealing her deep-tan abs and thighs, now painted red where my strikes landed.

I shuffle for a second, at a loss of what else to say, my hand still outstretched. Finally, mercifully, she responds.

"Why you not fight me hard?"

"Wh-- what?"

"Why you not fight me hard?" she asks again, putting her half-wrapped fists on her hips and looking at me accusingly, as fierce as ever. "I see your old fights. I watch you before. You not fight me like that."

She glares at me; it takes me a moment to realize she's insulted.

"Wh-- Nok, what?"

*Am I the only sane person around here?*

"Nok we have...we have weight classes for a reason. I was supposed to fight a guy *my size*. And you were supposed to fight...well, a guy, but your size too, sorta. Here, look."

I pull up a picture of Liam on my phone; she barely looks at it, waving her her hand dismissively. "Yeah yeah, I know him."

"Yeah but...listen. He's a small guy, that would've been more even. I'm a...I'm a big guy. It wasn't a fair fight."

She shrugs, looking me over cooly. "Fight is fight."

Damn. I can't help but respect that -- she's old-school, that's the way it used to be. No weight classes; anytime, anywhere.

I crack a grin; she's a real character.

"Why you smile at me, huh?" she demands.

"Cause you're cool," I say honestly. "Cause you're good. Cause you fight hard, and I respect you. I'm twice your size but your low kicks still hurt...I've fought heavyweights who don't kick as hard as you."

She quirks an eyebrow at that, watching me warily. Then, without warning, she kicks me as hard as she can in the leg.

"Ah! What the--!" I wince, unready for her attack. She starts to laugh, and snatches the flower out of my hand.

Despite the sudden pain I laugh too, rubbing out my thigh as she looks the flower over.

"I like it," she says, smiling shyly at me over the top of the petals. "Thank you. You are gentleman."

"I don't know about that," I say, straightening up and scratching my head. "I just spent fifteen minutes hitting a...a woman."

She frowns, fakes like she's going to kick me again, and laughs as I flinch.

I can't help but smile. I like the sound of it -- her laugh. I realize I want to hear more of it. She's kind of funny, when she's not trying to take your head off.

"Hey Nok I didn't uhh...I didn't hit you too hard in the fight, did I?" I cringe even as I ask the question, but she's definitely gonna have some serious bruises on her legs, and I'm worried about her ribs where I was landing those hooks.

Her smile vanishes; her face darkens faster than a Midwest storm. "Now you are too much gentleman. Stupid. I fight with man all the time. In my gym, I'm the only girl. I'm fighter, you don't worry about me."

Fuck.

"Sorry, I...I just mean that I'm--"

"Yeah yeah, you big guy, I know." She scowls at me, her expression slowly changing to a pout as she looks down at the flower again. Watching me out of the corner of her eye, she slaps my leg with a light, playful kick.

"I'm fine. Thank you."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. She's dangerous; I almost feel like I'm still fighting her, in a way.

She finishes with her wraps and nods back towards the building. "You shower?" she asks, undoing her ponytail, letting down her shoulder-length dark brown hair, streaked with lighter highlights.

"Uhhh, yeah but you go on first," I say, glancing inside, seeing that there's no dividers. It's just one big room lined with showerheads, a drain in the middle of the floor.

She shrugs and saunters in, waving for me to follow. "We fight, Jeff. Same same. Come on."

I'm not sure what to say to that, but she's so casual about it I find myself following her inside. I mean I've shared locker rooms with opponents before, but this is...a little different.

I go to the end of the room opposite her, studiously keeping my eyes on the wall in front of me, waiting to hear her turn on the faucet before getting undressed and putting on the water myself.

Then I just soak, standing there in the hot water, content to be alone with my thoughts. It wasn't a hard one, as fights go. My legs are a little sore from her kicks, but that's about it. She's gotta be feeling it way worse than me.

Still, I feel...restless. Unsatisfied. I'd trained for months for this comeback, I'd flown all the way over here for a chance to fight with the Cyclone again. Once you fight the best, man...that's all you wanna do. I know I'm not half the fighter I used to be, and I'm sure he isn't either, but fuck it would've been nice. Now I gotta go back home empty-handed. I guess I made a decent payday, but still--

A nearby sound snaps me out of my thoughts; I glance to the side and quickly look away. It's Nok -- she's moved to the shower right beside mine, and she's stark naked.

She giggles at my modesty, inclining back towards the other side of the room. "Broken," she says by way of explanation, starting to rinse off.

"Ah," I nod awkwardly, trying my best to face away. I only had a brief glimpse, but it told me all I needed to know -- she's toned and trim, lean and strong. She's got a great body, and I have to fight the urge to turn back and look again.

"You have a...good defense," she says, breaking the momentary silence. "Hard to hit good."

Somehow I manage to look back over at her without looking down. "Well you got good offense. Good movement; hard to keep up with you."

That gets us talking about the fight -- what we saw, who landed what. Her enthusiasm is infectious; pretty soon I forget my modesty, I forget not to look at her, I forget how damn good she looks and then we're just two fighters, talking casually in the shower and comparing notes.

She's sharp -- she remembers just about every detail, and she gets me re-enacting certain sequences.

"When you guard here, and I am here, I thought I can hit you here," she says, lightly aiming a blow at my abdomen. "But you block too fast, man. Good defense."

I grin. "That's heavyweight. Big guys can knock you out with one punch, so you gotta be careful. Gotta have good defense, or you don't live long."

"Not many heavyweight in Thailand," she smiles. "I think only--"

We're interrupted by noises at the door. It's the Bicycle Boxers, scuffed up and finished with their event, eager for a shower. Nok starts to shout at them in Thai, sending them scurrying away from the door. She gives me a wink as she shuts the water off, as she goes to get her towel, and all I can do is laugh.

She got me so engrossed in the conversation that I forgot to soap up, and I'm still washing as she calls my name from the doorway.

"Hey. Jeff."

I turn; she's dried and dressed already, carrying her things, the flower held lightly in her hand.

"I think you good too." She glances meaningfully down my body. "*Big* guy."

I curse and cover myself as she throws back her head and cackles. She winks again and waves as she leaves, shouldering through the men waiting outside. I can only shake my head and smile ruefully.

It's normal to have a mutual respect with an opponent after a fight. You've just shared something primal, intimate and violent. That sort of thing breeds admiration, maybe even friendship.

Is that what I'm feeling for Nok right now, though? Or is it something else...?

*

Tom takes the whole cast and crew out for drinks later that night. He's still wearing that damn hat, but by now I think it suits him.

He may be running a sketchy circus-style promotion, one that probably wouldn't be legal anywhere else...but his fighters and his crew are paid well and on-time, everyone's looked after and happy, and he legitimately loves what he does. That's more than I can say for most promoters, so I'm proud of him.

He makes the rounds for a while, buying drinks and handing out bonuses before coming over to sit with me. We talk for a good long time, reminiscing about the old days.

Across the room I catch a glimpse of Nok, hanging out with some Thais. She looks good -- she looks different. She's dolled up now in makeup and earrings and a pretty floral dress. I hadn't expected her to be so...feminine, after seeing the way she fights. To be honest she's a bit of a mystery to me, and I find myself more and more intrigued by her, glancing her way more and more often. She turns once and we make eyes, and it's then that I realize she's got the flower I gave her in her hair.