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The Last Knockout
The Last Knockout
The Last Knockout
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The Last Knockout

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Sometimes, finding the way out of your own inner darkness is as simple as turning on the light, but what do you do if you can’t find the switch? All of the light seemed to have gone out of young Shane Casey’s life when he lost his childhood home and his three best friends, with whom he had formed the Fearsome Foursome, a group dedicated to fighting for those unable to fight for themselves. Bounced around from bad situation to bad situation, he had given up hope, until a twist of fate brought him to The Franciscan, a facility where maybe a little light was able to filter in.

A chance encounter with the Middle Weight Champion of the world, and the rediscovery of an old friend in his midst, begins to turn his life around in ways he never expected. As the illumination grows within him, it manages to spread throughout The Franciscan and brings light to the other dark souls who are seeking refuge and a second chance behind its front doors.

The shadow of darkness also hangs over an aging trainer grasping at his last chance to field a champion, his daughter who is recovering from a tragedy of her own and her son who faces a different and far more tangible challenge. A final epic showdown may mean the difference between a total recovery for seven troubled souls, and those who support them, or a return to the darkness from which they may never emerge.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRoy McArdle
Release dateFeb 14, 2021
ISBN9781005757472
The Last Knockout
Author

Roy McArdle

Roy McArdle grew up in California, where he excelled in athletics all the way through college. He entered the U.S. Army where he was trained as a radio operator in Morse Code. His time in service was served at Fort Gordon, Georgia and Fort Bragg, North Carolina. After leaving the military, he would end up as a commercial diver running dive operations that employed active duty and retired Navy SEALs, with an emphasis on hull maintenance of ships and boats. During this time, he pursued his California Teaching Credential, where he eventually graduated with a Masters Degree in Secondary Education. The opportunity arose to teach while overseas in South Korea at places such as The Republic of Korea (ROK) Naval Academy, The ROK Defense Institute of Language, and The ROK War College. He would be recruited to work for Samsung Heavy Industries in Koje-do Island as a teacher, where he would work for three years in the language department, before eventually running an International School for dependents of foreigners working overseas in Korea in the shipbuilding industry. Roy finally returned to California where he has been teaching over twenty years in secondary education. The last ten years has been in alternative education for his school district working with youth coming out of the Juvenile Hall system.

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    The Last Knockout - Roy McArdle

    THE LAST KNOCKOUT

    Roy McArdle

    with Robert Pickering

    Copyright © 2020 Roy McArdle

    Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    For all those in the dark still looking for a light switch

    1

    Four pairs of worn out sneakers raised small clouds of dust as the children wearing them strode determinedly side-by-side down the rural dirt road. The morning temperatures were already in the high 80s, sure to climb higher, and the humidity was oppressive. Typical summertime in south Louisiana. They were headed to a confrontation, just one of the many they’d been engaged in since the age of five. 

    They had nicknamed themselves The Fearsome Foursome. Each of them had experienced enough trauma and dysfunction in their lives to qualify them for permanent residency in a therapeutic facility. They had all grown up together under single mothers in a trailer park north of the little town of Ville Platte near Chicot State Park, Louisiana’s largest state park. The park itself covers 6,400 acres of rolling hills and water that houses deer, raccoons and other wildlife.    

    Ville Platte, which has a population hovering around 7,400, is located at the north end of Louisiana’s Cajun country.  Rumor has it that it was founded by a former cavalry officer in Napoleon’s army by the name of Marcellin Garand.  His equestrian legacy is remembered during the Louisiana Tournoi, which is a horseback riding contest where riders wearing capes and costume armor compete to lance the most gold rings while racing along an oval dirt track. Visitors to the area are greeted with Cajun food and swamp pop music that combines New Orleans style rhythm and blues, country-western, and traditional Cajun music. 

    In the past, one might have said the members of the Fearsome Foursome were from the wrong side of the tracks, but with Ville Platte being one of the poorer communities in the state, with over 50 percent of the population subsisting below the poverty line, there really was no right side of the tracks. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t a few wealthy families residing in the area, mostly large-scale farmers and successful business owners, their McMansions dotting the landscape on the outskirts of town. This led to the formation of an unofficial caste system where the members of the monied class didn’t mingle with those they considered beneath them. Nowhere was this more keenly felt than in the public-school system. Children of the wealthier citizens, at least those that did not attend private school, generally held their peers from poorer families in low regard. While most of them did so in private, there were a few of them who openly sneered at, and even taunted, their less fortunate classmates.  

    One such tormenter went by the name of Ralph Binder. Ralph resembled a Pillsbury doughboy whose height and weight was well beyond what was normal for a boy 12 years of age. He was a bully at the highest level and had never lost a fight due to his physical stature that, according to the Body Mass Index scale, showed him closing in quickly on an early death due to obesity. It was he who the four friends were set to meet this afternoon. One of the Fearsome Foursome had beaten up one of Ralph’s friends a couple of weeks prior, and he was out to get revenge. The foursome veered left heading over to the open area near the park where Ralph and his followers awaited.   

    The girl to the far-left side of the Fearsome Foursome formation approaching the battle grounds was Betsy Corrigan, an 11 year-old with flaming red hair and an overdose of freckles that she wished had been shared with the seven other babies born at the same time as she in the local hospital. Her mother had become quite aware of her daughter’s disdain for freckles – and tendency towards impulsive behavior – the day she had taken her to the local fair where an artist was doing face paintings on children. When it was Betsy’s turn, the artist took a look at her face exclaiming, You have so many freckles I don’t know where to begin. Betsy knew where to begin, taking a wild swing at the man’s face located only a foot away from hers catching him in his upper teeth sending a front tooth flying into the paint tray on his lap.   

    Betsy had been left with just her mother after her father died when she was six. It was just as well. Due to his inability to hold down a job, with no real skills to rely on, he had become an alcoholic and wife abuser by the second anniversary of their wedding. Betsy had seen so many raging outbursts and physical acts of aggression towards her mother and herself that it became a guessing game as to when the meltdowns would start once the drinking began each day. It was only a matter of time before someone was really hurt. That day arrived when her father was found dead by the police in the early morning hours of a stiflingly hot July night, badly beaten by two men who had drifted into Ville Platte. They had followed him from a local bar realizing he was an easy target. After beating him lifeless, they had searched his belongings, coming up with only a cigarette lighter and thirty-five cents, leaving them shaking their heads in despair. The pain Betsy’s father had caused her mother over the years was reflected on the day the two men who had killed her father were arraigned in court. Her mother leaned down close to her ear saying, I wouldn’t have pressed charges if it had been up to me.

    Billy Kim was the next one in line, moving in stride next to Betsy. He was an American-born Korean. His parents had moved to America in hopes of a better chance at life for themselves and any child they would bring into the world. They had made the decision long ago never to subject their children to the education system in their homeland. There are thousands of South Korean students in the elementary and secondary schools who endure twenty-hour days of academic rigor and private tutoring classes in order to pass the college entrance exam known as, Suneung. This exam ultimately defines the future for most Koreans as it determines whether or not that person will be admitted to college and what kind of employment he or she will be qualified for. The impact is most significant on those who fail. With suicide rates for the young among the highest in the world, the pressure to succeed on the exam has taken its toll on students past and present.  

    The first stop in America for Billy’s parents had been Tennessee, where the introduction to the culture, habits, and attitudes of the people left them thinking they had landed on Mars. Lack of employment prospects kept them moving south through Mississippi, and then on to New Orleans where his father landed steady work in the fishing industry. Eight months after Billy had been born, an intoxicated Cambodian worker had come to his father’s workplace starting an argument with another man for no apparent reason. Billy’s father had stepped in to try and calm the Cambodian, only to be killed with a knife, leaving Billy and his mother to fend for themselves. Their new home turned out to be a trailer for rent north of Ville Platte where Billy would become quiet and introverted. It wasn’t until he was befriended by the other members of the Fearsome Foursome – who were standing bravely to his left and right at that very moment – that he truly felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself. 

      Well, the four little fairies have finally arrived, said Ralph Binder who started laughing at his own comment causing his breasts to jiggle up and down loosely as if there wasn’t an ounce of muscle attached to them. His eyes scanned left to right taking in each face on the four challengers. He suddenly did a fake lunge forward letting out a scream as if he was going to attack. Not one of the Fearsome Foursome flinched. That’s strange thought Ralph to himself. Everyone he had ever done that to had always jumped back startled and scared. The stoic stance displayed by the four kids should have been a sign to him that things were about to change drastically.   

    If anything, he was a little unsettled by the glare from the boy second from the left. Terrence Spellman was the biggest member of the Fearsome Foursome, a rotund, jovial, black kid who stood five-feet even, weighing 149 pounds. For a big kid, he was faster than he looked, and when it came to fighting, he didn’t play by any rules. The only thing that mattered was winning. Not that it happened very often. Most kids knew what he was capable of and gave him a wide berth, including school bullies who picked on most everyone else.

    Betsy Corrigan was staring straight ahead at the boy who was avoiding eye contact with her. He was skinny and maybe a head taller than her. Unless the boy had spent the last five years of his life in a Shaolin Temple studying Kung Fu, he was about to take a hit unlike any before. Betsy took off in a sprint catching the attention of everyone. The boy looking at the human tornado approaching thought about taking a step backwards but was frozen in place due to the sudden attack. Betsy hit him low around the shins in a wrestling takedown that was textbook perfect. The boy landed on his tailbone, resulting in excruciating pain. She was on top of him before he could even comprehend what was happening. She started driving punches into his face, ending the barrage with open handed blows to his ears. The boy started screaming for her to stop. Wishful thinking. Her last punch connected to the underside of his nose causing blood to flow freely. He rolled over on his stomach burying his head in his arms letting Betsy know her job was done. She stood up and retreated to her original spot next to Billy Kim.   

    There was complete silence as everyone who had come with Ralph Binder were just staring in shock. Billy Kim was already looking at the guy who was wearing a Nike shirt that had been cut off at the shoulders exposing average size arms. He had seen the kid around school, but didn’t really know him. His name was Joel or Jonah or something, he wasn’t really sure. He had long hair similar to Billy’s. When it came to fighting, Billy’s approach had always been quiet and relaxed as if he was ignorant to the threat in front of him. The boy Billy Kim was staring at had refocused from the beating Betsy had just delivered on his friend. Looking at Billy, he was thinking to himself there was no way he would take a beating like he had just witnessed. He was quite right in his assumption because what was about to transpire would take less than seven seconds. The boy screamed at Billy to make a move. There was no need to scream at Billy as he would have accepted the challenge even if delivered in a low soft voice. Billy calmly started walking towards the boy as if he was going to shake hands with him and introduce himself. The boy started bouncing back and forth between his front and back foot as if he had some knowledge how to fight. Billy had closed the distance between the two of them to three feet. He timed the boy’s back and forth movement and exploded forward as the boy was in midair, leaving him with no leverage from his feet. The blur of non-stop punches being thrown by Billy caused the boy to bend over at the waist leaving his face open to the full arching uppercut that caught the boy under the chin leaving him crumpled on the ground breathing, but not moving. Billy took a last glance down, making sure the boy had no intentions of getting up again before returning to his rightful position in the formation.   

    The only sound in the clearing was the word timber, coming long and drawn-out, from the mouth of Terrence. He was surveying the surrounding area realizing there was no one left to square off with except big boy Ralph. Ralph had also taken a look around, noticing that the few kids that had come to watch the fireworks had scurried off for home or taken up new positions farther away from the action. Ralphy boy knew his odds of winning had just turned into a long-shot.   

     So now it’s only me against the four fairies, was all he could muster up sarcastically, his façade of confidence belied by the slight tremor in his tone. He silently wished he was home eating a plateful of cookies.   

    Not quite, said Terrence, capturing Ralph’s attention. You see my friend here never likes to be helped when it comes to fighting. He actually gets mad if we intervene.   

    The prospect of a one-on-one matchup gave Ralph renewed confidence, which only further stoked his aggressive nature. Then you all back up and get out of the way. Let me handle little trailer boy here.  

    Little trailer boy happened to be Shane Casey, standing to the center right. He was also the one who had beaten up Ralph’s friend at school, making him the prime target. Shane had fair to light skin with pitch-black hair and eyes, a result of his black-Irish heritage. He was of average height for his age, four-foot six, tipping the scale at 110 pounds. When he was two years old, his unwed, drug addicted mother handed him over to Terrence’s mother as if he was baby Moses being sent down the Nile river to be hidden from the dangers that might follow him. In reality, it was she who was the most dangerous thing in his life. She realized Shane’s chances for survival improved if he was not subjected to her addiction and inability to maintain employment. She disappeared into thin air leaving no trace of a memory for him to hold on to.

    The last seven years had seen Shane living under the same roof as Terrence and his mother, unbeknownst to school officials and state welfare workers. This was Cajun country and things tended to move a little slower. As long as the boys were healthy and in school, not too many questions came their way regarding their domestic situation. Shane and Terrence had become blood brothers by ritual. Two years prior, they had each cut their finger and interlocked them in a show of commitment to each other.

    Over the years, they had befriended an old soldier by the name of Hackett who lived in a run-down trailer at the end of their little neighborhood. Hackett was a Vietnam War vet who had turned into a recluse. Most of his time was spent in an alcohol induced stupor. Everyone knew he was a troubled soul and steered clear of him, except for the time Shane and Terrence had helped him get back to his trailer after finding him on the ground after a fall. After helping him into his trailer they had become wide-eyed looking at some of the war pictures adorning the walls. 

    Hackett had become just cognizant enough to talk to the boys a little about his past. He talked about being a tattoo artist at one time of his life and showed them his tools of the trade. They thanked him and had darted out of the trailer giggling in disbelief at what had just happened.

    Three months later, Terrence talked Shane into going over to Hackett’s trailer and asked him if he would tattoo their initials on the bottom of each other’s foot as another sign of brotherhood. Hackett never gave it a second thought, performing his magic as requested. The boy’s secret lasted seven months until Terrence’s mother uncovered it as a result of Shane breaking a toe from hitting a hidden rock while running through the woods one day. Terrence’s mother had them both lay on their stomachs and proceeded to paddle the bottom of their feet while they squirmed in agony. Afterwards, she headed down to old man Hackett’s trailer giving him an earful before storming away in disgust. Nothing happened to Hackett as a result, presumably Terrence’s mother figured what was done was done. Not much she could do about it now, and it could have been much worse.

    Terrence, Billy, and Betsy had taken a couple of giant steps backward, leaving Shane out front and center with Ralph. They had seen this movie play out before, only with different actors each time. Shane had never given any consideration to his approach to fighting. He had always had great reaction time and a right-hand knockout punch that was infamous among the many kids that had challenged him over the last three years. He had never lost a fight, and that undefeated record was moments away from staying intact.  

    At that moment, Ralph lunged towards Shane, hoping to grab him and pull him in close in order to use his weight as an advantage. Shane stepped to the left like a bullfighter avoiding a charging bull while watching Ralph grab nothing but air. At this point, it would have seemed reasonable for Ralph to consider a different tactic, but, given his arrogance, that wasn’t the case. Ralph mistook Shane’s actions as a sign he didn’t want any contact with him. He turned and charged again towards Shane, throwing a right-hand punch that started way too far from the right in a sweeping arc. Shane had seen the punch coming a mile away from its starting origin behind Ralph’s hip. Shane stepped back with his right foot, creating a launch pad as he felt all his weight loaded up on his back leg. He rotated his right hip and shoulder, and buried his fist into the Pillsbury boy’s solar plexus region, wreaking havoc on Ralph’s nerves and diaphragm shutting down any hopes of oxygen for the next thirty seconds. Shane didn’t wait for the recovery phase to happen as he unleashed a follow up shot with blinding speed to Ralph’s face that was only heard even though all eyes had been glued to the scene unfolding. There was only one word to describe what happened next, and Terrence repeated out loud the word Timber as Ralph hit the ground like a redwood being cut down in the forest. 

    Shane turned and walked back towards his friends knowing there would be no more fisticuffs for the day. The four of them started the journey back home as if it had been just any other day. Meanwhile, Ralph Binder was still laying on the ground in a state of shock realizing his days of being the reigning heavyweight champ of Ville Platte were long gone.

    2

    The banging sound on the trailer door was vibrating through Shane’s teeth as he lay in bed. It was early Sunday morning and the sound of a flimsy metal door being pounded on was one of the most annoying sounds no matter what time of the day. Terrence’s mother was struggling to put a thin white cardigan sweater on over her nightgown as she made her way down the narrow center aisle inside the trailer. Shane glanced over at Terrence who was still sleeping through the noise like a bear in hibernation. As Terrence’s mother opened the door, Shane wondered who could possibly be visiting this early. Probably Billy Kim’s mother needing some seasoning to spice up a Korean breakfast or Betsy’s mother asking if they didn’t mind watching her daughter while she left for the day, which seemed to be happening a lot lately. Shane’s last thought was maybe old man Hackett was drunk and decided to come looking for Terrence and him to tell some more war stories, but the female voice that greeted Terrence’s mother was unfamiliar to him.

    Good Morning. My name is Catherine Whitmore. I’m with the Louisiana Department of Children and Family Services, and this is Deputy Stratton. He has a search warrant for legal entry into your trailer, and I have some questions for you regarding a child by the name of Shane Casey.

    Terrence’s mother’s mind was racing, trying to come up with an answer or question to ask, but, given the unexpectedness of the intrusion, nothing was registering.

    Ms. Whitmore continued, Ma’am, I am going to respect your situation so I will need you and whoever else is staying in the trailer to come out before officer Stratton enters to do his job. The door has to remain open while you get your things together. She was looking at Terrence’s mother with a compassionate expression on her face and finished by saying, Take a couple of minutes.

    Shane was already out of bed shaking Terrence awake. Terrence’s mother didn’t say a word as she side-stepped Shane on her way to grab what necessities she would need once outside the trailer. Shane signaled Terrence to follow him as he made his way towards the door. Once outside, it became apparent that they weren’t the only ones receiving a wake-up call as every trailer had a police car parked in front of it with everyone being escorted outside. Shane could see Billy Kim in the distance, standing in a lime colored bathrobe with his head and eyes tilted downward as if he was being scolded by his mother. Betsy Corrigan had her hands on her hips surveying the situation like she was about to make a decision that would affect everyone involved.

    The scene that was taking place in the trailer park had been the direct result of Ralph Binder’s beat down a week earlier at the hands of the Fearsome Foursome. Ralph’s father was president of the bank that held the note on the trailer park where the Fearsome Foursome lived, a mortgage that was frequently past due. When her little angel Ralph had arrived home from the fight with a nose in the shape of an S, his mother took action, insisting that her husband shut down the development, citing unsafe conditions as grounds for calling in the loan. She was also on the local school board and had strong connections with powerful people at the local and state level. She made it clear that she didn’t just want the families to be homeless, she wanted them gone. It was also understood that if her wishes were not carried out, certain people’s jobs would be at risk. Heads would roll if the trailers, along with their disgusting inhabitants, were not removed within a week of her phone call.

    At that moment, old man Hackett appeared at the door of his trailer using profanities as he was escorted to a waiting area. He pulled his arm away from the police officer, letting him know he could manage on his own. Shane thought the situation would have been a little different had it happened in the afternoon when Hackett would have consumed his fair share of alcohol. More likely the officers would have had to carry him out. Shane’s attention was drawn to the Whitmore lady who was asking Terrence’s mother who Shane belonged to. She responded that she was in charge of him. Whitmore looked puzzlingly at Shane trying to make sense of the racial differences. In a lot of ways, Ville Platte had never really moved past the early 1960s in terms of racial diversity and acceptance. For certain people, a white boy living with a black family, well, it just wasn’t done.

    Where are his parents? Whitmore asked, one eyebrow raised.

    There was a pause. No father. His mother left him with me years ago, giving me permission to raise him.

    Did you go through the adoption process?

    The question left Terrence’s mother silent before nodding her head back and forth letting a no softly depart her lips.

    Any brothers, sisters? the lady from the state asked, checking off items from her list.

    Not that I know of.

    How long has he been under your supervision?

    Seven years.

    Whitmore paused for a moment shaking her head slowly before speaking into her two-way radio asking for her colleague, an agent named Haskell, to come over. Haskell walked up looking way too energetic for an early Sunday morning ready to do his job.

    Yes ma’am, was all he uttered.

    The boy here will be escorted in a security vehicle. He’s a possible drop out that will fall under state jurisdiction. I will accompany him in the vehicle for the drive back.

    Shane was catching enough of the conversation to understand he was departing the trailer park he had called home for as long as he could remember. He had no clue to the process he was about to endure that would involve numerous agencies making decisions on where his next stop would be regarding youth shelter homes. He glanced over at Terrence who was actually starting to cry. Terrance didn’t cry easily but at that moment he was longing for a father to be there and stand up for all of them against these people who had taken over their lives and home.

    That father Terrence was wishing for had ended up dead in prison four years previously after being sentenced to eleven years on manslaughter charges. Six months after his sentencing, Terrence and his mother had made the two-hour trek to Louisiana State Penitentiary to visit him for the first time. Upon arriving at the prison, Terrence and his mother were whisked away into a room where they thought they would be meeting his father face-to-face. They had sat for what seemed an eternity before the prison warden walked in, accompanied by a physician in a white coat, who was there to help with any emotional fallout from the message being delivered by the warden that Terrence’s father had died just one hour before their arrival at the hands of another prisoner in a dispute over a pack of cigarettes. The efforts to save his life by medical personnel had lasted thirty minutes but to no avail. The State Medical Examiner would arrive later that day concluding that strangulation was the culprit as there were numerous bruises and handprints on his neck.

    The warden had asked Terrence’s mother if she had the financial means to bury the body as the prison would take care of cremating him if finances were, in fact, a problem. Her reply to the warden had been sarcastic and quick saying, We’re so poor our dog gets nervous every Thanksgiving. Terrence had stared at the warden, watching him wrestle with his mother’s comment, while wondering to himself what dog was she talking about as they had never owned one. Before the warden could respond, Terrence’s mother waived him off with her hand and said, Do what you want with the body, we’re done here. The warden quickly surmised that there was no love lost between the parents which, unbeknownst to him, was due to the husband’s years of womanizing and gambling that had left Terrence and his mother in their present predicament of living in a trailer park to fend for themselves over the years. Terrence followed his mother out of the prison

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