Felix 'The Cat' Langston vs. 'Ragin' Randy Wilson

Posted on 03 Sep 2016 @ 1:58am by Lieutenant JG Felix Langston

2,030 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: History
Location: Birmingham, AL - Earth
Timeline: 2378

Sixteen-year-old Felix Langston found himself on his back during the middle of the second round of the finals at the Golden Gloves Southern Regional Championships.

"ONE!" the referee called out as Felix senses reeled. He blinked several times to try and make his vision less fuzzy. No dice. The room swam and swirled about.

"TWO!"

Felix shook his head slowly and placed a gloved hand on the mat, using what was left of his strength to try and get back up.

"THREE!"

Felix used both of his hands to push himself up. He drew his feet into a kneeling position. He had to catch what was left of his breath. He shifted his mouthguard around and scrunched his face to try and regain his senses.

"FOUR!"

Felix slowly stood to his feet. He tried to mask the fact that his knees were about to buckle at any moment. Surely another punch like that would send him back to the mat.

"FIVE!"

Felix turned to look at the referee. "You okay?" the referee asked. Felix nodded and brought his hands back up, eyes back on his opponent. The referee backed up and started the fight again. The two fighters started their dance anew, bobbing and weaving around the ring. Felix threw a few jabs to keep his opponent at bay. They both knew it was a cursory exercise, a last ditch effort to try and run down the clock. Felix knew he was down in the points; he had to find a way to make up the difference quickly.

Felix's opponent, Randy Wilson, was a hulking brute from Georgia, a kid with freckly white skin, flaming red hair, and a mean streak a mile long. He easily had three inches of height on Felix and just as much if not more muscle mass. Felix wondered how a kid that big was in the same weight class as he was. Felix often heard horror stories about "Ragin' Randy Wilson," and dreaded the thought of going up against someone like him. Yet now, here he was, getting his clock cleaned by the opposing seventeen-year-old.

Felix threw another flurry of jabs punctuated by a left cross. The cross connected with Wilson's jaw, staggering him for a second. Felix took the opportunity and threw a series of jabs aimed at the startled opponent's midsection. Wilson glared at Felix and wound back for a huge haymaker to try and counter. Felix ducked, barely missing the wrecking ball of a punch. He countered with a couple of quick jabs with his right and backed off. He hung back, assessing Wilson's strategy, or rather lack thereof. He seemed to favor huge power punches, usually trying to steamroll his opponents with overwhelming force. If I can make it to the next round, I may have a chance of tiring him out, Felix thought.

Just then, Wilson came with another series of huge punches that would've leveled Felix if he didn't duck out of the way. Felix countered with a series of jabs to Wilson's midsection again and backed off. The bell rang and both young men went back to their corners. Felix sat down on the stool his trainer brought out, taking a sip from a water bottle his cutman provided. He eyeballed his opponent as his coach tried talking to him.

"Felix, you need to protect yourself," Felix's coach, Artie, said to him. "You're not keeping your hands up. That's how you wound up on your ass that last round."

Felix nodded, only partially listening.

"Keep your hands up, keep punching, you'll pull this out, kid," Artie said. Felix kept his eyes on Wilson and Wilson returned the gaze. Wilson's mouth turned up into a sadistic grin, taking Felix aback. Felix's attention turned to his cutman, who provided his mouth guard again. The bell rang and the two fighters were back on their feet and weaving to the middle of the ring.

Felix had to focus on counter-punching this round. There was no victory in charging in, Wilson would take care of that in ten seconds flat. He let Wilson make the first move. Wilson threw two jabs followed by a cross. The jabs tapped at Felix's leading right shoulder. He'd been able to confound Wilson for the early rounds by being southpaw to Wilson's orthodox, but that strategy had long worn off. Felix jabbed twice himself, following with a shallow uppercut. His punch hit, but not with much force; he had to save his strength. Wilson glared and reared back, throwing three more punches. Felix brought his hands up and the blows glanced off his blocks. Felix countered with a couple quick jabs. Felix gained a new sense of confidence. Just stay the course, he thought, this fight'll be over by decision in no time.

Wilson became enraged and Felix's strategy. He grunted and put power behind each one of his punches in order to get Felix down to the mat again. Felix grinned a bit, he knew he was frustrating the brute in front of him. Just then, Wilson reared his head back and came down at Felix, connecting their foreheads with a sickening thud.

Felix staggered backwards. He saw the referee back Wilson into his corner and give him a reprimand. Wilson wasn't even looking at the referee, he just stared at Felix with a sinister smile. He was out for blood. Felix's blood.

Felix's mind instantly flashed to that moment on the ship with the pirates who took his mother. He saw one of the pirates give that exact same look to him before he disappeared with Felix's mother.

In that hazy moment, Felix stopped thinking. The referee backed away and signaled for the fight to continue and hadn't backed away for two seconds before Felix charged in. Felix's eyes had almost glazed over as he gave into his fight-or-flight reflex, leaning heavily on the former. However, his attacks were different this time. Felix swung at Wilson, not caring if his blows damaged or even killed his opponent. If Wilson wanted blood, he was going to get it.

Wilson put his hands up in a desperate attempt to quell the oncoming onslaught in which he found himself trapped. However, it was no use. His previous round's attempt to knock Felix out had left him without much stamina and he looked in horror as his hands drooped down and Felix started connecting with his jaw. There was nothing he could do except try his best to tank the hits on the chin. Where did this come from? he thought as blows rained down upon his face.

Wilson finally fell backwards onto the mat. The referee pulled Felix back, whereupon he snapped out of the trancelike state he was in. He saw Wilson struggling to get up from the furious flurry he'd just been delivered. The referee started the count.

"ONE!"

Wilson heaved and turned onto his side.

"TWO!"

Felix looked as Wilson flopped back to his back.

"THREE!"

Wilson inadvertently spat up his bloody mouthguard and a tooth with it. A white towel flew in from his corner. The bell rang as Felix looked at his opponent. Holy cow, I did that? he thought. The referee came to Felix's side and held up Felix's right arm as the crowd in attendance cheered.

"And the winner, by technical knockout, Felix 'The Cat' Langston!" the announcer said over the convention center's loudspeaker. The crowd cheered again. Felix smiled. He saw his grandparents, siblings, and father among the people rushing to congratulate the young boxer. Felix's father came up and grabbed him in a giant bear hug.

"Son!" the old spacefarer exclaimed.

"Hey Dad!" Felix said, mustering up the energy to match his father's enthusiasm. "Great fight, huh?"

Remy smiled and hugged his son tightly. The crowd chanted and cheered. Felix waved graciously, basking in the recognition. Yet, he felt something gnawing at him that he couldn't explain. He hugged his siblings and his grandparents and then posed for some victory photos before and after the trophy ceremony.

After all the post-fight rituals concluded, Felix found himself, his coaches, and his father in the locker room. His coaches had just finished removing Felix's hand tape and giving him more congratulations saying things like "helluva fight" and "way to knock him flat on his ass!" Felix heard them in hushed tones as he slowly tuned the room noises out. He had to find a way to quiet things down, but it wasn't happening here.

Remy noticed his son's discomfort at his current situation. "Uh, fellas?" he asked the coaches. "Can we have the room for a second?"

Artie and Upton nodded and gave their verbal affirmatives as they exited. Remy sat down next to Felix on the bench in the locker room, facing the other way from his son.

Remy breathed out a deep sigh. "You okay, son?" he asked.

Felix continued staring at the lockers in front of him. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said weakly. He used his hands to rub his face and try to reorient his senses.

"You didn't look okay in that ring earlier," Remy said.

"I said I'm fine, dad," Felix said with a hint of aggravation. Felix caught himself. What the hell are you doing?! he thought, no one talks to the admiral like this!

Remy immediately picked up on the distress in his son's voice and swung himself around to face the same way his son was. Felix continued looking at the lockers, but felt tears welling up in his eyes. He buried his head in his hands and started crying.

"Dad, he was going to hurt someone," Felix said. "I don't know what happened, something just came over me."

Remy immediately put his arms around his son and drew him in closer. "It's okay, son, it's okay," he whispered.

"I didn't mean to hurt him like that," Felix said through tears. "I just...I...I couldn't let him do something like that...when he head butted me...he looked at me...I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't, I know," Remy said as he consoled Felix. He paused. "This is about your mother, isn't it?"

Felix said nothing, yet his silence told Remy all he needed to know.

"It wasn't your fault for what happened to her," Remy said. "You can't keep trying to make up for what happened by taking it out on other people like that. I know, you want revenge, even though you're not saying it. It's a subconscious thing. And believe me if I'd been in your shoes, I'd want the same thing. But we gotta learn how to control those feelings. Otherwise, we'd have no peace at all and the galaxy would just be a fiery mass."

Felix nodded through tears, and continued listening to his father.

"I know the universe can be a messed up place sometimes," Remy continued. "But that's why it's so important for us to be the ones who bring peace. I love you, and I know that you are a loving and kind person, Fe. You're gonna make this uniform proud. I know it."

"You think so, dad?" Felix asked.

"I know so, son." Remy answered.

Felix smiled and sat up on the bench while wiping away his tears. "Thanks, pops," he said as he sniffled and wiped away his tears. He got up from the bench and went to put his gloves and boots in his bag.

"Son?" Remy said.

Felix stopped his ritual for a second. "Yeah, dad?"

"It really was a helluva fight," Remy said, smiling.

Felix laughed and went back to putting his gloves back in his bag. Remy got up and put his arm around his son as they walked out of the locker room. Felix saw a crowd of people gathering around, wanting to take pictures and shake his hand. He smiled and waved at the crowd of people. He turned towards his father and saw him wink. Felix returned the wink and then went on to pose for more pictures with the people of the Golden Gloves organization.

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