Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|1 Lights Out

Wait, punch out, cmon, punch out! I hear the referees words faintly as I try to sneak in an uppercut thats probably illegal but what the ref dont see, dont happen. The Shark finally shoves me off and as I jump back, I feel the blood running down my cheek again. I thought it had stopped bleeding, damn. The cut is deeper than I figured it was. It had come from a wicked right-cross in the fourth round that glanced over my left eyebrow and opened up some old scar tissue. Coach told me to keep my hand up, but I guess I just got a little cocky. We all get a little cocky sometimes. Somehow we always end up paying for it, too. Ever since then its been an uphill battle. I know I won Rounds 1 and 2, but Im in this assholes backyard. Chances are the rounds are closer than I believe them to be. Oh! Time! Go to your corners. I jog over to my corner, hoping the crowd and the judges dont realize how tired I actually am. Coach brings my stool out and I havent even finished sitting down before he starts on my eyebrow. What the hell was that, Lights?! You gave that round to him! Coach spits at me, bringing the water bottle to my lips. Didntdidnt see nothin, Rich, I say, taking in a deep breath after a quick sip. Well you better start seeing something, its Round 8 coming up and youre LOSING. You hear what I just said? Youre going to lose everything. Everything. Shit.

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|2 Not an overstatement. This is my comeback fight, my return to glory. A 43-year old lightheavyweight contender aint much to get hyped about, but my 52-2 record earned me this title shot. You cant tell me nothing. Sure, Im not George Foreman, but I can hold my own. And Ive held it, too. My left hook is the stuff of legend. Or was. Id taken a three-year hiatus before the fight to help Emily out. The world thought I had retired. I dont blame em, though. I came off a knockout loss that almost put me in a coffin, soyeah. I relinquished my belts and traded a ring for a hospital room. I only started training again after they offered me the shot at the title, around the same time Emily went into partialremission. They put me in five consecutive fights with a bunch of punch-happy rookies to make my comeback. I blew past em like a hurricane. Now, standing across from me, rolling his shoulders, theres Henry The Shark Walker. The IBF, WBC, and RING 175-lb champion is a hulking beast of a man who is pushing 27-years old while Im knocking 44s door down. But this is my chance, my last hope for Emily. Cant let something like age be a factor. These days, the boxing world figures Im just a poor, washed-up old wolf that had won a few battles in his day but has to hang up the claws sooner than later. But I cant. I wont. Those hospital bills, man, cant have Emily worrying about that shit. And as I look from my stool at the flashing cameras and blinding lights and hear the deafening jeers and cheers inside the Mandalay Bay Arena, all I can think about is how at home I feel here. My wife is dying in a bed nearly 800 miles away and Im here. But Im doing what I have to, to save her.

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|3 So then why do I feel so guilty? Is it because Im enjoying it just a little bit too much, this comeback? Is it because I jumped at the chance for one so that I could go out with glory? Or maybe its because the stress of me fighting might have caused Emilys cancer to come back? So go ahead. Call me selfish. The truth is, some people are just born to do things. You cant just expect them to up and surrender the only thing they know how to do just because theyre not doing it well enough, just because theyve reached that time. And compound it with the chance to save my wife? No, no, I am not done. I am not giving it all up just yet. The wolf has returned to reclaim his den. The smell of blood and sweat is my aromatherapy. The ring is my playground. I wonder if the young Walker feels the same.

***

Soso did you find out how much itll all cost? At least thirty-grand to stay. Thats if were lucky. God knows how much more on top of that these bloodsuckers wanna add, I said. Emily sighed. She placed her hand on her balding head and massaged her brow. God, that ring was so cheap. Ive seen vending machine-joints shine brighter than it does. I wanted to buy her another one. If I won. Ughwe dont have money to spend like that! What about the insurance?

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|4 Didnt even cover half. Weve got no choice, babe. Its not like we have chemo pills lying around at home. There are cheaper treatments though, she said. Her eyes were watering. Other alternatives and stuff- No. I said I would get you the best. Nothing else. Okay, and how do you expect us to pay for all of this? Damn it. I didnt want to talk about it. Not right then. II was gonna tell you--- I took a deep breath. Even fragile in that too-white, tooclean bed, she still scared the hell out of me. Only woman Id ever been afraid of. I loved that about her. ---I got a title shot. Two-mil with the win, $850,000 guaranteed with an L. Thats more than enough. She stared at me for awhile, like I had just told her how many days she had left. Then she grabbed my hand and manically started massaging my knuckles. A fight? No! No, you told me you were done. Dont you remember what happened the last time? I couldnt handle the pleading in her voice, the look on her face. I knew what she was thinking. Our roles were reversed three years ago, when it was me lying in a bed not unlike this one, holding onto her hand. II know, I know. Itsits just this one last time. This isnt about me anymore, this is you. Id fight anyone and anything for you. You have to let me do this. Her grip squeezed on my hand. She was still strong, still strong. Just promise youll come back to me. I wont die alone.

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|5 Youre not gonna die. Not while I can still throw a decent punch. Not while Im still standing. We stared at each other. I tried to smile but my mouth was being a bitch. A large part of me was really, truly in it solely to get her the money. But I would be lying if I said I wasnt dying for a chance to get back in the ring. I stared at her, wondering if she knew. Wondering if she knew that I had already accepted the fight months ago. Wondering if she knew I had been training at night, when she was sleeping. Wondering if thats why we there, in that hospital room, in the first place. Promise me, she said again.

***

Box! Rounds 8 through 11 had felt a dream. Walker had kept trying to open up the cut again and I hit him and ran, cause thats all I could do. The last thing I want is a TKO because of a goddamned cut. Cant let Emily see me lose like that. Oh yeah, I know Im losing. Ive spent too much time trying to counter while protecting my eye than actually putting up a fight. Ive never heard Coach scream at me so loudly. Lights, this is it. The 12th round. You knock this motherfucker on his ass or you lose! Thats all I can tell you. I love this man. Three chimes, the start of final round. Why does the ringside bell sound like military trumpets?

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|6 I swear I think I see Emilys face in the crowd, but thats impossible. Shes lying in a hospital bed, hooked to a machine and watching me get washed in Las Vegas. No. No, I wont let that happen. Ive been through too much shit over the past three years to come back and lose like this. Ill fight to the last even if my eye goes blind from the blood. The Shark smirks at me as I start throwing feeler jabs. He keeps moving away. He knows the fights in the bag, so why does he have to keep fighting? He can just cruise. Pussy. I wont let that happen. No. I charge him, pushing him into the ropes, employing every ounce of dirty boxing I had ever learned. I want him uncomfortable. I want him angry. Angry boxers make mistakes. Theres ninety seconds left in the round and I can tell that now, finally, he wants to fight again. Perfect, because I want to make it a fight. He may be bigger, but hes not faster. He learns this when I hit him with my left-cross. He learns some more when I rock him with a big right hand over the top. And he cant deny me when I duck under his lazy right hook and come back around to fire the hardest left hook Ive ever thrown. That left hook could cure cancer. The referees 10-count takes almost ten years, but when youve been doing this for as long as I have, you pick things up, like knowing when a man is knocked down and when hes knocked out. Their eyes tend to look toward Heaven when they get knocked out. But Walkers dont.

Mauricio Castillo, LIGHTS OUT|7 He rises just as the ref reaches the end of the count, stumbling as he does so. But he raises his hands. And the fight is over. The fact that Im not leaving the new champ takes me a second to comprehend. Im still high off my own adrenaline, high off my own power. Its a problem among pugilists. Ive gotten my guaranteed money, more than enough to pay for the treatment but I still start to feel the air of failure creeping up on me. But then Coach and the rest of the team lift me into the air and I realize that maybe, in some way, Ive won. No, not the title, not the fight, but I dont care about that. Ive made my point. I can make out the crowds roar thanks to my good ear, and I know that theyre cheering for me. Only for me. A sick compound of tears and blood is streaming down my face and I can hardly see it all, but I know now. My training camp knows now. Henry The Shark Walker, even in victory, knows too. Everyone in the world knows. Emily knowsyeah. She knows.