Tandia (46 page)

Dutch was smearing vaseline over Peekay's eyebrows and ears. "Ere, your toffee-nosed cheer squad's arrived,' he said morosely. Peekay looked up and, lifting his glove, he smiled and waved. The crowd had begun to whistle and boo and the Odd Bods sat down laughing, pleased by the attention they were getting.

Dutch turned to Peekay, speaking quietly. 'Take it easy now, my son. Don't let them take your mind off what you're doing. Let him come to you. Let him do the work. Bide your time, hold him with your left, but watch his left hook, it's how he does most of his damage.'

Just then the strains of a violin cut through the pre-fight hubbub, quietening the area immediately around the ring- side. The silence spread around the stadium. Peekay couldn't believe his ears. The large form of Jam Jar was standing up in the front row with a violin, playing the overture to Doe's
Concerto for the Great Southland.
The overture was hauntingly African and picked up the feeling of a vast, sad land. Doc had written it in prison (where he was interned during the war as an enemy alien) using the five tribes who, for the most part, made up the prisoners. Each tribe took a part, the poignancy of their singing unbearably beautiful as they sang of their love for Africa. The Concerto climaxed with the Zulus singing the great song to Shaka Zulu, the mightiest of all the warriors.

The crowd had hushed as the beautiful strains of Jam Jar's violin moved to complete the overture and then picked up the opening notes of the Zulu part. The Odd Bodleians rose and came in as one, their voices rising like thunder in the hills. The rest of the audience hushed as the beauty of the male voices rose, singing of the great Zulu impi that came as wind waving in the tall grass, sweeping all before him. It ended again with the roll of thunder as the male voices in the stadium rose in triumph and then started to die down slowly until the deep hum seemed to vibrate the air about the ring. Suddenly Jam jar's violin cut in again, picking up the refrain and bringing it to a conclusion, the male voices behind it holding the deep, humming sound and allowing it finally to die.

The audience went wild as the Odd Bodleians sat down. Peekay was not conscious that he'd risen to his feet and now the tears rolled down his cheek. He'd been scared, feeling a little overwhelmed by the fight with the highly rated Habib.
The Concerto for the Great Southland
performed by the Odd Bodleians was the strength he needed. He turned to Hymie, removing the gold chain with the lion's tooth from his neck and handing it to him. 'This fight's for Gideon,' he said softly.

Hymie had tears in his eyes as he took the talisman. 'I had no idea this was going to happen!' He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes,
'Months ago
I'd talked about the composition and Milstein had asked me if I had the music and lyriCS. I got my sister to send them over.'

Peekay sat down on the pot again, closing his eyes, regaining his concentration so that he didn't see the referee enter the ring. Dutch tapped him on the shoulder and Peekay opened his eyes, he was ready. He looked up at Habib but saw instead a black man, Jake 'Spoonbill' Jackson, welterweight champion of the world, the fastest two fisted puncher in the world. Peekay was going in after him.

The referee called the two boxers into centre ring and Habib jumped forward, throwing punches into the air, eager to get going, his anger showing. Peekay wasn't buying the showmanship and waited a moment before moving quickly and quietly to stand beside the referee.

Both boxers waited as the Scottish referee introduced them to the crowd, using a microphone which dropped down from the ceiling. The French Algerian held his gloves high and did a little shuffle as his name was called, while Peekay briefly raised his left glove. The referee allowed the microphone to retract and spoke to the two boxers, spelling out the rules of the fight. Neither listened, they'd heard it a hundred times before. The Algerian, jerking his shoulders up and down in a relaxed manner, fixed Peekay with a grin, but Peekay made no attempt to look at him, staring instead at his feet, his hands hanging calmly at his side. As the referee told them to touch gloves Peekay looked at his opponent for the first time, his eyes giving nothing away. They returned to their respective corners to wait for the opening bell.

The crowd sensed a good fight coming up, though there must have been a great many experienced fans present who, like Mitchell of the
Daily Express,
were wondering how a young, unknown South African boxer could stand up to the tough, two-fisted attack of the experienced Arab fighter.

Peekay returned to sit on the pot, while the slightly taller Habib stood waiting in his corner. The bell sounded for the first round and the dark-eyed fighter moved like a blur towards the young blond boxer trying to force him into the neutral corner.

Peekay was fast enough to step through the gap, taking a left and a right on his gloves, turning Habib and moving backwards towards centre ring. He knew Habib wanted him on the ropes where he could rough him up early and perhaps put a few hard punches into the body. The Algerian came hard at him again, throwing a lot of leather, and Peekay was hard put to keep him out. Habib was strong and his aim was to unsettle the less experienced boxer quickly.

Habib broke away suddenly, dropping both his hands, a sign of contempt intended to throw Peekay. Perhaps he hadn't met a boxer with Peekay's speed and anticipation before. Peekay sensed the gesture coming, read the other man's thoughts through his eyes. He hit him with a straight left followed by a lightning right cross which sent the French Algerian sprawling, hitting the canvas hard.

Peekay moved quickly to a neutral corner as the ref started to count. The Algerian fighter had risen to his haunches, using the count to clear his head. At eight he stood, nodding to the ref that he was all right. The respect was back in the fight; he'd underestimated his opponent and he now knew he had a fight on his hands.

Peekay moved in quickly, but with caution. He'd hurt his opponent but his eyes were clear. It would take more than an early knock-down to intimidate the other fighter. The Algerian pushed him away with a couple of short rights, but Peekay stepped around the left that followed and caught his opponent a good blow under the heart. Habib went into a clinch, holding Peekay until the ref ordered them to break. The first round began to take shape, Habib still the more aggressive, chasing Peekay around the ring, both boxers scoring well, neither doing any real damage. Towards the end of the round Habib caught Peekay with a right cross which sent the younger boxer several paces backwards and brought a roar from the crowd. It was a beautiful punch and Peekay felt it in his toes.

The knock-down probably gave the round to Peekay but the other boxer had seemed more aggressive. He was beginning to look impressive, as though in control, the way an experienced boxer can, often without doing a lot more than his opponent. He'd caught Peekay several times on the ropes and done some damage. He was faster than he'd looked on film and Peekay knew he had the capacity to put him away with either hand.

The second round saw Peekay staying away from the Frenchman, counter-punching and moving Habib around the ring. Peekay was a back-foot fighter who allowed his opponent to come to him so he could work out the other man's idiosyncrasies. Neither Hymie or Dutch could pick anything about Habib's style which Peekay could use. After the knock-down the Arab boxer wasn't being careless and was putting his punches together well. He seemed to be breathing a little heavily after the first round but this could have come from the effects of the knock-down. Nevertheless Peekay determined to move him around as much as possible, making his opponent miss, keeping himself away from the ropes. Peekay managed a couple of hard hooks to Habib's body, one of which made him grunt. But it was a reasonably tame round which the Frenchman probably took with his extra aggression. Almost at the end of the round he seemed to gain confidence and was starting to be a tad liberal with his left hook; all Peekay had really managed to do was to confirm to his opponent that the novice wasn't going to be a pushover.

The third round in a six-rounder is the one in which a boxer tries to assert his authority. Peekay was clearly the faster of the two fighters with a slightly longer reach. But the French Algerian was bigger about the shoulders, stronger in the legs; he was a stand-up fighter and needed to get Peekay on the ropes where he would work on him. His tactics had been right when he'd come out for the first round; it was only his arrogance which had been his undoing.

'He's going to come out hard, lad, try to work you in close. Keep him walking, dance him, he's beginning to work a little flat-footed. If he gets a little slower, in the second half of the round take the fight to him, surprise him,' Dutch said.

Peekay had already decided Habib was a good fighter but lacked imagination. Dutch was right. If he was certain the Algerian had lost some of his speed then turning the tables on him might work.

The bell for the third round went and, as predicted, Habib came out fast and aggressive. Peekay danced him, slipping his punches, occasionally tying him up. Habib was strong and he tried to pull himself out of the clinches but Peekay held him, allowing the other fighter to waste his energy whenever possible. The older fighter was throwing so many punches that some of them were landing and hurting Peekay; but Peekay was doing enough to frustrate Habib's aggressive stand-up style and the Algerian was getting angry, which was affecting his timing. Peekay was also hitting him on the break and tying him up whenever he got in close. It wasn't what Habib expected and his frustration was making him careless. Using both hands to get at Peekay's head, Habib was leaving his torso open, whereas Peekay was laying down a pattern of punches which would begin to tell later in the fight.

Towards the end of the round, Habib decided to go for Peekay's body and brought his left hook into play, missing on several occasions. Peekay waited until he tried it just once too often. The younger fighter was perfectly balanced and positioned for the right cross. It came as though in slow motion, exploding to the side of the French Algerian's jaw. The older man staggered backwards and, moving in fast, Peekay hit him with a left to the head and another right cross; then closing in he belted him hard to the body with a left hook, following through with a hard driving right under the heart. The Algerian backed into the ropes, where he tried to grab Peekay and hold on. But the younger boxer was too fast and he hit him again with a straight left. The punch was hard, but going away so that some of the sting was missing. It was enough for Habib to grab onto the ropes and stop himself going down. Peekay moved in just as the bell went for the end of the round. He'd left his run ten seconds too late to knock Habib down, a timing mishap which could cost him the fight.

The crowd, sensing a big upset, were solidly behind Peekay, hoping for a fourth round knock-out. But in the fourth round, Habib managed to tie Peekay up, even hitting him with a left-right combination which had Peekay going for a few seconds as he back-pedalled frantically out of trouble. Yet Habib simply wasn't fast enough to capitalise on the two great punches, and Peekay was able to escape.

The round came to an end and, while the crowd were now plainly on Peekay's side, the honours probably went to the French Algerian who had grown stronger and stronger as the round progressed. Peekay's inexperience showed; he'd let his quarry off the hook and, coming up for the fifth round, he seemed likely to walk into a whole heap of trouble.

In the fifth round, the Algerian had worked out Peekay's hit-and-run tactics and he began to stalk the young South African, moving him into a corner whenever he could. Peekay was mostly able to fight his way out but, towards the middle of the round, the big-shouldered Algerian nailed him with a beautiful left-right combination which put Peekay down.

Peekay had seen the punch coming but his head somehow wouldn't move. The left smashed into his mouth and the right that followed felt as though his head had been taken off. He went down fast, his bum bouncing on the surface of the ring. 'Jesus, he's nailed me. Get up! Get up!' his mind screamed. 'Christ, I've been knocked out! Get up! Get up!' But the voice in his mind came back clean and far away, as though it was an echo travelling up a long glass funnel. 'No count? There's no count! It's over, I didn't hear the count!' Peekay tried to stand but it was as though he had no legs.

Habib, elated and angry, certain that he'd hit Peekay hard enough so he wouldn't get up again, didn't move immediately to a neutral corner. Standing over Peekay he swore at him in a mixture of French and Arabic. The referee screamed at him to get into a neutral corner but the Arab remained standing over Peekay's fallen body.

The seconds gained were critical. Peekay felt the pain rush back into his legs as the count commenced at last. He still couldn't see properly but his strength was returning. 'The count! Listen for the count! Take all the time you've got! Get up at eight!' he told himself.

At the count of eight he was on his feet with enough strength in his legs to move, his eyes clear. The referee gave him a few precious seconds more as he examined him. 'Box on!' he commanded.

Habib came in fast but missed, first with a straight left and then badly with the right that followed. Peekay moved in and held him, buying the precious seconds until the referee shouted for them to break. Then Peekay switched to southpaw as he came out of the break and hit Habib with a beautiful right lead, stopping the French Algerian momentarily. Peekay was back in the fight again, and the crowd was loving his courage as he managed to weave and dance through the remainder of the round, staying out of trouble. 'Jesus, Peekay, we thought you were gone! Nice one!' Hymie said as Peekay, breathing heavily, sat down.