“What's the matter with you Elena?” Mona snapped. “You're not concentrating!”
“I didn't miss a pass! I took all the intercepts!” retorted Elena.
”Just!”
Elena rolled her eyes. “It was only training tonight.”
“You think you can be slack at practice! Why do we train? To win matches!”
“We won our last matches.”
“We need to keep winning! Why else did we have this extra session? Remember, we're playing Oak Forest next. They’re the best in the league!”
“Mona, it's not the playoffs.”
“We won't get to the playoffs unless we keep winning.”
"Mona, it’s not that serious. This is supposed to be a fun competition. We’re not meant to play like we’re professionals.”
“What we are meant to do is to play as well as we can. And you're not doing that!”
Elena’s eyes flashed with anger. “What's it to you? No one else is criticising me!”
I knew that was true. Only Mona Nock was critical of Elena Savoy. But then, Mona Nock was critical of anybody and everybody. I stood at the door listening to my volley ball teammates. We had just finished a special training session and I’d been about to grab my bag and leave when Mona started on Elena. I stopped to listen. One never knew where this tension between the two women might lead. Besides, I wanted some dirt on Mona. Mona knew too much about me. Somehow she'd found out that I'd had a nasty fight at David's party a week ago. I'd lost in front of the whole crowd. I'd been humiliated – and Mona said she’d tell everyone.
Mona went on, scolding Elena. “Maybe, but I'm next to you in the game. I could see you're dreamy, you're slow. It’s like your mind isn't on the game.”
“Like I said, what's it to you anyway Mona? You're not the coach and you're not the captain.” Elena picked up her bag.
“No, but I want to win the cup. I want the Vagabonds to be the champions. Don't you?”
Elena shrugged. She was probably wondering if the championship was worth having to listen to Mona’s ranting. She turned on her heel and walked out of the locker room. “Oh hi Becca. I didn't see you there.”
“Hello,” I replied, picking up my gear. We walked out towards the car park. “What was Mona going on about in there?”
Elena shrugged again, “She's always in my face these days.”
"She's in everyone's face. She's always picking on some perceived fault. If it’s not you, it’s one of the other girls." I paused, thinking again of the last time Mona had told me I had some problems, and not just with my game. That had been when she devastated me by telling me she knew about that fight at David’s. She had gotten very personal.
It had started with her criticising my performance at the match we had just finished. That match had been only a couple of days after the fight. I'd been bruised, stiff and sore, and it had hurt just to move. I hadn’t been playing at my best but of course, I couldn’t tell her why.
It didn’t matter. To my horror, she knew anyway. She had moved onto criticizing the fight, calling me a slut, mocking me for how badly I'd been defeated. The cowardly bitch – she knew I was in no shape to do anything to her. I'd left, thinking something would have to be done about her. Of course, I thought I’d be the one to do it, but now maybe there might be another way. At the very least, Mona was making another enemy, someone who might support me against her bitchiness.
To be fair to Mona though, Elena had been off her best form. I turned back to her. “She did have a point. You do seem a bit distracted these last few weeks. Is something bothering you?”
"Well…” Elena hesitated. Was she plucking up courage?
I wondered why I even cared. The answer was, I didn’t – not about Elena, no more than I cared about any other team member which wasn’t much; I played with them, that was all, we were not a particularly friendly team. But knowledge is power; it was always worthwhile knowing something. Mona knew that. That was why she listened to gossip, followed up on rumours, confronted the person who was being whispered about. She used their weaknesses as weapons. It was blackmail; do as Mona said or she would tell everyone what she knew and you wouldn’t be able to hold your head up in public.
So I encouraged Elena. “It's more than Mona getting on your nerves. She does that to everyone, me included. She’s a bitch. But it’s more than Mona being bitchy, isn’t it? Is there something I can do for you hun?”
Again Elena hesitated. It wasn’t courage she lacked, it was trust. She was deciding whether to trust me – trust me to keep a confidence and trust me to help her. Again I encouraged her. “You look as if you need to talk to someone. You know me. Come on, let’s go get some coffee.”
About ten minutes later, Elena was pouring her heart out. I’d sat her down, bought her a coffee and waited. For a few moments Elena mouthed non sequitors. I had to ask a few more probing questions before she started to tell me what was on her mind. But when she started, there was no stopping her.
I sat listening, murmuring a sympathetic word now and again, as she told me how she'd met a young attorney at a Cubs game. She thought they'd hit if off – or at least she really liked him and had gladly given him her phone number – but he hadn’t called her back. After a week without a call from him, she had shown more initiative than I thought the rather dull office worker possessed, and went looking for him at some bars and clubs he’d mentioned that he frequented after work. It took her another two weeks to track him down in some bar on the Golden Mile and when she finally did, it seemed she didn’t have a very pleasant time. But then Elena was clearly out of her league. I almost switched off. Why was I here, listening to some clerk tell me about her shattered romantic dreams? It was like something out of a cheap romance movie – probably Elena’s favorite genre but certainly not mine.
She went on, “Some of the guys were so nasty! They just shut me out of the conversation, talking about things I didn’t know.”
“Elena,” I said inwardly, “if you go after a high-powered attorney, you're going to have to get used to this. Or go to college and learn.” Outwardly I just nodded and clucked sympathetically. I was tuning out, starting to think about some work problems. Elena reminded me of Madeleine, one of the vet nurses at my clinic. They were both pretty, athletic – Madeleine played A-grade racquetball – but ditsy and always having guy problems.
Suddenly she said something that startled me back to attentiveness. I had to think for a moment, replaying her words in my head to figure out what it was. “Elena, did you just say you fought her? Who’s her?” Suddenly she had my compete attention. I wanted to hear all about the fight. Fighting excited me. Listening to another girl's account of her fight was nearly as big a turn on as fighting myself, especially when I was too sore and sorry for myself to fight. I'd lost to that bitch Jane DeVille and the thought of that made me grind my teeth in fury but I pushed it out of my mind – for now – and focused on Elena.
“Margot,” replied Elena. “Malcolm’s ex.”
“What happened? Yes, I know you told me, hun, but it’s important. Tell me again …please.”
And Elena told me the whole story. The girl showed more spunk, more courage than I thought she had. She had successfully sought Malcolm out. That alone showed initiative. She’d been put down by some of Malcolm’s friends. Clearly they thought she was trash. Perhaps they were right. No, I wouldn’t go that far, but Elena described them as far more intelligent, cultivated and sophisticated than she was. She had left dejected, trying not to cry.
Malcolm had followed her and brought her back. From what she told me, I wasn’t sure why. Was he being polite or was he – then – genuinely interested in Elena? And if he really was interested, what was his interest? Did he just want a brief fling, someone he could ‘love’ and leave? That was always happening to Madeleine. But bring her back he did. They danced and talked. I suspected, from how Elena glossed over that part, that they did more than simply dance and talk. Madeleine would have.
Just when Elena had thought everything was going well, she had to go to the bathroom. On her return she found another woman , well groomed, conservatively and modestly dressed, a woman with poise – in short, someone who fitted the scene – snuggling up to Malcolm. Again I recalled Madeleine's disastrous forays and restrained myself from commenting, “You'll find that happening a lot if you pick up men in bars.” I restrained myself because this was clearly the build-up to the fight and I didn’t want to shut her down now.
And so it proved. Elena told me how she had stumbled in her confusion, knocking over a table and sending the cutlery crashing to the floor. She thought the other girl looked superior, smug and had smiled at her misfortune. “I just lost it, Becca. I went over and slapped her face – four times! – before she could even react!”
And so the fight started. It hadn’t gotten very far before the bar staff pulled them apart. “Luckily for you,” I thought, since Elena told me the other woman had recovered quickly from the shock of Elena's sudden assault. She'd stood up and was counter attacking effectively. So much so, that she insisted on continuing the fight outside in a back alley.
Whether it had been the pause, or that Elena was a natural alley fighter, or some other reason, once they were outside, along with a lot of people who had followed Elena and Margot –Elena had dominated the fight. The way she told it, Margot had hardly gotten a blow in and Elena was so pissed and furious she ferociously stormed to an easy victory.
Not that that was her only victory that night. She had won Malcolm – he drove her home.
“And we’ve been together since,” she said, finishing her tale. Now she wanted advice. This is what she’d been obsessing over. “I…I don’t want to have to fight some chick just to keep him interested. Nor do I want to have to fight every girl who approaches him. How…how do I…what do I do to keep him?”
I told her I’d think of something, but again I wasn't focusing. Her story had not only excited me, it had set me thinking. Elena clearly liked fighting. It seemed Malcolm liked her fighting too. I knew Mona had had a scuffle or two and wouldn’t back down from a fight. If I got Elena to fight – and beat – Mona in front of Malcolm, it would put Mona in her place and I’d be a match maker to Elena and Malcolm. I just had to think of the ways and means to make it happen.
It turned out to be far easier than I expected. Our next match was a big one - against Oak Forest, the leading team in our division. Everyone invited their friends, since we needed all the moral support we could get. Elena invited Malcolm and she introduced him to me.
We narrowly lost the game but we all played well and no one was disappointed except Mona. To be just barely beaten by the leading team was no disgrace. As Amanda Penn, another of our teammates, said, “Girls, this just about puts us right into the playoffs. Just keep practising and we’ll come from behind and beat Oak Forest – we’ve done it before.”
Mona, of course, couldn’t stop complaining and Elena, with her man there, wasn’t taking it. I wasn’t going to let her. “Elena, she can’t bitch off at you like that! Don’t let her get away with it.” I whispered. Elena looked undecided. “”Do you want Malcolm to think you’re weak?”
My words had the desired effect. Elena flushed. “Stop it Mona! You heard Amanda – why do you have to run everyone down? Maybe your name should be spelt M-o-a-n-e-r.” She giggled at her own weak joke. I was sure everyone had heard it before, and I thought Mona would have been used to it.
Instead she hissed something at Elena. I didn’t hear what she said but whatever it was, it infuriated Elena. “Shut your mouth, you worthless troublemaker!” She turned on her heel as if to storm off.
That wasn’t what I wanted at all. I whispered, “You can’t run out like this! What will Malcolm think? Yeah, I know you don’t want to fight every woman to keep him around, but you’ve got to show him you won’t put up with crap.”
For all my pushing, I think Elena would still have walked away if Mona hadn’t annoyed her more. “That’s right!” she taunted scornfully. “Run away, li’l girl!”
Elena stopped dead, and turned round slowly. She raised her hands, glaring at Mona. “All right…bring it! I’m ready.”
Mona snarled, “Let's do it!”
I blinked. I had hoped they would fight. I wanted Elena to thrash Mona, but I hadn’t dared to hope that the fight would break out in the main corridor in the sports complex. I thought they’d go down to the gym. This was going to be good.
The two women sized each other up for a few seconds. They were about the same height. I’d have put Elena at five foot six and she might have been an inch taller than Mona, that was all there was in it. Perhaps Elena was about 10 lbs heavier. She was well built, curvy, slim waisted with a good bust and butt, So was Mona, though a little smaller in almost all dimensions. She might have been 135 lbs to Elena’s 145. Both were still in their volleyball uniforms – tight fitting short sleeved tops, short skirts and sneakers.
Mona's fists went up. She circled Elena, and smiled confidently as she jabbed her fist at Elena's chest. Elena reacted quickly, stepping back, pushing down her left arm to block the blow. “Not bad,” she smiled, launching her own lower punch aimed at Mona's navel. Still still stretched out from her jab, Mona couldn't defend speedily and Elena's blow hit home. Mona grunted, stepped sideways and hooked her left fist into Elena's side. That hit hard as Mona was too quick for Elena to bring her hand down to parry it. I almost felt the waves of pain that blow, delivered with all Mona’s power, must have sent to Elena’s rib cage.
Elena bent sideways but fired her own punch back, right to the middle of Mona’s stomach. Mona had followed Elena by stepping to her side and was readying herself to strike again, so her fist was raised when Elena’s punch struck. Mona groaned. Retreating to get some breathing space, she reached down and rubbed her belly.
Elena closed, wincing. Clearly her side pained her, but just as clearly she’d noticed – she’d have been more of a fool than I thought if she didn’t – that her belly blow had been effective. She had pounded Mona. She feinted at Mona’s belly again – or rather like the Duke of Marlborough, she hoped her move was effective but if it wasn’t, then she had another ready. Mona’s hand dropped to protect her stomach, leaving hers wide open to Elena’s right fist, powering into her left breast.
“Oh! Oh…shit!” Mona squealed, then gasped. She retaliated with a hook shot to Elena’s temple that bought her some breathing space but nothing more. Elena regrouped with impressive speed. Dancing around Mona, she peppered her foe with light jabs to her flanks. Mona faltered and retreated, but Elena kept the pressure on. She kept Mona defending. Not many of Elena’s blows hit and those that did, did little damage in themselves but she was wearing Mona down.
Elena herself looked to be running out of steam though. ”Ooh…ooof…” she gasped. A desperate Mona, abandoning her defense, struck out at Elena. Her right fist slammed into Elena’s temple. Elena paid for her overconfidence as Mona struck with a quick barrage of punches at the blonde’s belly. Elena deflected some, dodged others, but each of the few that hit elicited a groan or a gasp. Elena doubled over, but she was still fighting and fired some short sparring punches. They hit and Mona retreated. Perhaps she feared Elena would recover and pepper her once more.
Backing away was the wrong move. Mona’s leg glanced against a sofa that was there for friends or family members to wait while team members were in the locker rooms. As Mona turned to see what her leg hit, Elena saw her chance and lunged. Her fist pounded Mona’s navel. It was a solid blow. Mona groaned and doubled over, hands clutching her battered stomach, her mouth open wide, sucking air. Another punch – a left hook to her face – and Mona sank, her butt sitting on the couch.
Mona swung her legs up, kicking out defensively. Elena stepped back. She was hurt, she was tired, but she was relishing the fight. I smiled to myself. I’d been wrong about her. I thought she was a non entity – just another paper pusher who played volley ball with us. Instead, she was an aggressive woman, striving to reach the top of the heap. From the way she had described Malcolm, I could see just how attractive a man like him would find her.
Mona got up, her hands up high, protecting her head. She glared at Elena. “Nice shot, bitch... you'll pay.” She closed on Elena. Elena feinted high and then, faster than Mona’s reactions, she bobbed down, bending at her knees, and sent her right fist jabbing into Mona’s belly just above her waistband.
Mona was caught. She’d tried to lunge forward and she realized, too late, that she’d been outwitted. Elena’s fist sank in deep. Mona’s legs buckled. She dropped to one knee. Her hand reached out towards Elena’s waist. I don’t think she knew what she was doing. Maybe she was trying to push Elena away. Whatever it was, it didn’t work. Elena could smell victory and it spurred her on, giving her a last burst of strength. She pivoted on her right leg and raised her left, her knee aimed squarely at Mona’s nose.
“She’ll break her nose!” Amanda Penn hissed.
Amanda would have been right if Mona hadn’t flinched, her head jerking back. Even so, the blow was savage enough. Mona’s nose burst blood as Elena’s knee sent her flying. She landed on her back.
“Seems like you got some trouble!” sneered Elena. She added to Mona’s trouble, raising a foot ready to stomp on her enemy’s belly.
“Look at Mona!” Malcolm gasped, wide eyed. I did. Mona knew what was about to happen. She knew she had no way of defending. She was helpless. Then the foot struck.
Mona groaned but even as she writhed in pain, she tried to grab Elena’s ankle. She failed.
“Put that hand away,” Elena taunted. She ground her foot deep into Mona’s belly “Give!” she spat.
“Never…” Mona croaked. Her hand snaked up and her nails dug into Elena’s bare calf, scoring deep furrows. Elena screamed in pain. She stepped back.
Mona used the sofa to claw herself up to her knees, facing Elena. She was clearly finished. “It's a pity you didn't give up" Elena said sarcastically. “A pity for you.” She lashed out again, kicking at Mona’s left temple. The kick was right on target, and Mona fell back to the floor. She rolled, ending up prone.
“That’s enough, Elena!” Amanda tried to end the fight.
“It’s enough when she says it is!” Elena snarled, one eye on Malcolm who stood nearby, mouth wide and a noticeable bulge in his trousers.
“So sorry for you.” Elena stomped hard on the small of Mona’s back. “So sorry that you didn’t give.” She stomped again, harder. “So sorry that you’re a pathetic moaner.” She stomped a third time, to the side, her heel driving into Mona’s right kidney. Mona’s body spasmed. Her head arched back. She screamed. Her limbs beat the air then fell limp.
“Better flatten this body some more!” Elena trumpeted. She stood with both feet on Mona’s back.
Mona moaned. She raised her arm weakly and thumped the floor, tapping out. Elena remained on top of her but braced herself against the wall, relieving some of the pressure on Mona. “I give…I give…” Mona whimpered.
Elena stepped off to the side. She seized Mona’s hair, pulled her defeated foe up and flung her onto the couch. “Don’t mess with me again.”
She turned, walked over to Malcolm and kissed him hard. She slipped her arm though his. “Let’s go, babe,” she said. They walked out leaving us to deal with the sobbing, bleeding Mona.
I tried to suppress a smirk as I helped her walk to the change rooms. Mona had gotten exactly what she deserved. I hadn’t had to lift a finger, and she didn’t even know I’d set her up. She even thanked me for helping her – she thought I was on her side. She wouldn’t be telling anyone about my loss at David’s place – not after this. Things had started to improve.
I drove home humming.
This story owes much to the Scribbler's editing and to lots of encouragement from my friends and is another in the Becca series coming afterBecca’s first fightBecca’s Beach volleyball BoutBecca's BBQ BashBecca's Halloween PartyBecca at David's Partybut before
Becca v JennMore than She Expected Becca's pool fights
