Nathan Bedford Buchanan had never met his paternal grandfather. For the most part, he wished he never met his maternal grandfather either. His rich and powerful grandfather on his mother's side had insisted he be named Nathan Bedford as a fuck you to his father's family. Nathan was the product of a one time hook up with a Mexican athlete married to a black woman.
When the Mexican athlete refused to deny his parentage so the grandfather could claim his daughter had been raped by an unknown assailant of Mexican descent to use in his run for in the states attorney general election, the grandfather insisted on naming the son after Nathan Bedford Forrest founder of the KKK. Nathan's father never took the bait and just called his son Nat.
In school, the bullies started calling him Gnat and that morphed into Bed Bug. Bed Bug took on a more sinister connotation when the bullies hit puberty and saw Nat's older half-sister from his father's first marriage, Alexis. Alexis had developed early and when Nat figured out his so-called friends were using him to try and get close to his sister, Nat distanced himself from his friends who turned on him. Rumors were started that Bed Bug had relations with his sister.
Nat became withdrawn. He had always been the black sheep of his mom's family. The half Mexican disgrace that couldn't even be exploited to drum up the racist vote when his father wouldn't deny him. Just grandpa Buchanan's luck his whore daughter had to get knocked up by the one Latin man who wanted to take care of his kid.
Nat's father had always been shy too. His saving grace had been that he had been trained to be a boxer from the time he could walk. Nat's father had refused to allow his son to train as a boxer. He had seen too much of the damage the sport inflicted on its participants.
As a compromise, Nat was allowed to train as a wrestler. Nat's father loved Mexican pro wrestling and had spent much of Nat's childhood watching old wrestling tapes. Nat had learned more Spanish from the Luchadores than any Spanish teacher in his high school.
The wrestling coach at Nat's school was kind of a jerk. He hadn't warmed up to Nat when he tried out freshman year. The coach actually went to school with Nat's father and was disappointed that Nat wasn't the physical specimen that his father Julio was. Nat was a late bloomer unlike his father who walked into high school a muscular one hundred and sixty pounds and walked out four years later with thirty more pounds of muscle.
What Nat did have going for him that his father didn't was that Nat was several inches taller than Julio. Nat was actually built very much like Julio's bounty hunter partner and best friend, Uncle Duane. Duane was also a pro boxer like Julio but in high school Duane had also been a county wrestling champion in Texas.
Duane had taken it on himself to train Nat on the finer arts of grappling. If not for uncle Duane Nat would never have become a solid wrestler. The school coach mostly ignored Nat and he rode the bench for the first three years.
The summer between Junior and Senior year, where Nat turned eighteen, Nat had a major physical transformation. All of a sudden he had a thick build on a towering frame. It wasn't the same raw power that his father possessed but with the tricks, Duane had taught him, Nat was a master of leverage. Between Julio and Duane Nat never went without a running partner and had better endurance than any other member of the wrestling team. Not that his coach would know as he still ignored Nat in practice.
While Nat was about to come into his own as a wrestler, he instead came up with an alternate plan. Now that Nat was eighteen, he no longer needed his parents' permission to sign up for boxing lessons.
Nat was serious about becoming a boxer. He had idolized his father his whole life. That his mother's family had always treated him like crap just made Nat love his father more. It wasn't lost on Nat that even though his grandfather was a rich and powerful man, his grandfather Buchanan always showed fear regarding Julio Duran.
Nat knew what gym he wanted to start his boxing career at. He walked through the door of his Grandfather Ceasar's gym. Despite the fact that Ceasar lived in an apartment upstairs, the gym was dark and musty. Ceasar belonged to the boxing school that boxing gyms should be tough looking sweatboxes that made fighters tougher just by standing in them. Nat noted the fight posters on the wall. One was of his father when he was just about Nat's age. Another featured Ceasar fighting back in the Seventies. Nat had seen the picture before. It was of his grandfather fighting in a prison in New Jersey. There were a couple of hot prospects among the prison program. Grandpa Ceasar had gone into the prison twice and knocked out the inmates. All the other prominent light heavyweight fighters at the time were afraid to go to the prison with fresh memories of the Attica Prison riots. The second prison knockout had been televised nationally and made Ceasar a championship contender.
After asking a few boxers training on the bags Ceasar's location, Nat was directed to the office in the back. Nat knocked on the door and stepped inside. Caesar didn't recognize Nat when he stepped into the room. Caesar met with many young guys wanting to try their luck in the ring. He didn't train young fighters personally but was professional especially when dealing with a prospect as fit as Nat.
"Can I help you?" Caesar asked.
"I was hoping we could help each other." Nat replied like it was a clever line, in reality, Caesar had heard that exact line many times before.
"Joe-Joe in the Rays jersey out front sets up introductory classes and tryouts." Caesar said motioning for the door.
"You don't know who I am do you?" Nat asked.
"Should I know who you are?" Caesar asked back.
"Well since you're my Grandfather you should maybe know who I am." Nat answered with a bright smile.
Caesar looked over the tall young man standing in front of him. He was much taller than Caesar or his son Julio. His mind immediately went to the reach advantage would have.
"Nathan? I haven't seen you since you were in diapers." Caesar said.
"I don't remember ever meeting you." Nat said.
"Yeah, your dad and I lost touch after your Grandma died." Caesar said wistfully.
Caesar could tell by the flash of light that went through Nat's eyes that something negative went through the young man's mind. Caesar could guess that Nat had heard bad things about how Caesar had treated his son and his first wife. Caesar knew that while Julio didn't think Caesar was responsible for the divorce, his attitude about Wanda and Julio's antics didn't help the situation.
"Your dad's still mad about how I treated his wife, huh?" Caesar asked.
Nat wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted his meeting with his grandfather to go well but didn't like what he had heard about how Caesar treated Wanda. Even though Nat's very existence was a big cause for his dad and Wanda's divorce, Wanda had always been very kind to Nat. She had honestly been more of a loving mother figure than his own mother. His father and Wanda had decided early on that for the sake of the kids they would be cordial and welcoming so Nat and his half-sister Alexis had a strong bond and healthy relationship.
Nat knew his father was still deeply in love with his ex-wife. He had dated a bit but nothing serious for almost eighteen years. Nat had heard that his father's drive to become cruiserweight champion was motivated by his hurt that Wanda had moved on. Julio channeled all his pain and anger into training and then worked himself into a berzerker rage on fight night. His uncle Duane had squared off with him in the ring twice after the divorce and remembered the dark light flash in his father's eyes as he channeled bad thoughts.
"You know your dad was better off without that woman. If he hadn't gotten rid of that putita he never would have become a champion. He would be some broke fake cop chasing criminals let out of jail so they could make money." Caesar said.
Caesar could tell Nat had a reaction to hearing Wanda called a putita. Nat had no accent and Caesar doubted he spoke much Spanish. He clearly understood the Spanish word for whore though. Caesar could tell Nat had conflicting emotions about Wanda. It was almost impossible not to fantasize about Wanda and her huge black tits. Caesar could remember the first time Julio brought her home. He had spent the whole dinner thinking about titty fucking the teenage girl right at the table. When she had Julio's baby daughter she had been quite free about breastfeeding in public. Caesar got many opportunities to see his daughter in law topless.