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Authors: Raymond Benson
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wanted to. So did he—to state the obvious. What I remember of the event was nothing like the fireworks I expected.
It was all right. I think I mostly just enjoyed the intimacy and the closeness more than the actual sex act.
And then the weirdest thing happened.
Mack didn’t show up for a week. He didn’t call or nothing. And would you believe—I didn’t have his phone number, and the one Freddie had for Mack no longer worked. I couldn’t call him. I didn’t even know where he lived, only that it was somewhere uptown in the East Twenties. Was he hurt? Sick? What the heck was wrong? He’d certainly acted like he enjoyed what we did on New Year’s Eve, so I couldn’t imagine that he might not like me anymore. I had a good cry with Lucy and she told me not to worry—Mack would come around. Maybe he had to go out of town or something and couldn’t get word to me.
Anyway, I didn’t hear from Mack for two months. I was hurt and angry, but eventually I forgot about him. I went about my business, working at the gym, training, and trying to have fun. I didn’t date anyone else.
And then in March, Mack showed up. He walked in as if he’d never been gone, started using the speed bag, and ignored me . I couldn’t believe it. I overheard some of the guys asking him where he’d been, and Mack told them he’d moved and just “hadn’t feltlike coming.” Well, everyone knew we’d been dating, so they all figured it was my fault or something. I was furious. The famous Judy Cooper temper reared its ugly head.
I went up to him and demanded to know why he hadn’t called or come to see me. Mack just shrugged and said he didn’t want to.
“Why not?” I asked. I was near tears, I was so mad. “I thought you liked me!”
He just looked at me with an expression of disgust —that’s the only way I can describe it—and he said, “Not after that night.”
Then he walked away.
I could’ve killed him.
Instead, I went over to where we kept the boxing gloves for people to rent. I put a pair on, went over to Jimmy, one of my friends at the gym, and asked him to tie them. Jimmy was a big Negro who didn’t say much, but he asked, “What is it you-za gonna do, Judy?”
“You watch,” I answered.
I climbed through the ropes and jumped into the ring. I stood in the middle and shouted to Mack, “Get up here, you louse!”
Mack just laughed.
“What’s wrong, afraid a girl will beat you?” I taunted. That got him. Some of the men were urging him to get up there and face me.
“What, are you scared ?” I taunted.
By then, Freddie had walked into the room. “Judy! Get down!” he ordered.
“No, Freddie. This is between me and Mack,” I said.
I guess he knew me well enough by then to know I was pretty stubborn. I wasn’t getting out of the ring.
Finally, Mack couldn’t take the ribbing the other guys were throwing at him. He put on some gloves and got in the ring with me. Freddie climbed in to referee.
“I want a real match,” I told Mack. “No pulling back becauseI’m a girl. I’m playing for keeps, so you’d better, too.” Then I turned to Freddie. “I mean it. Treat this for real.”
“Judy, are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Absolutely. I want to teach this coward a lesson.”
That got Mack riled up. “Fine,” he said. “I’m gonna beat your ass, slut .”
I couldn’t believe he called me that. I almost tore into him right then, but Freddie got between us. He pushed me to my corner and waited until Mack was in his. Then we started the match.
Round one.
I moved to the center of the ring and met Mack there. He swung at me hard and connected with the side of my head. I felt it, too, but it didn’t stop me from delivering a powerful right hook—right on his nose! Mack stumbled back, but I kept moving forward. A jab, a cross, another jab, and a second cross. All four connected. I followed this barrage with an uppercut and then a slam into his stomach, which he didn’t
It was all right. I think I mostly just enjoyed the intimacy and the closeness more than the actual sex act.
And then the weirdest thing happened.
Mack didn’t show up for a week. He didn’t call or nothing. And would you believe—I didn’t have his phone number, and the one Freddie had for Mack no longer worked. I couldn’t call him. I didn’t even know where he lived, only that it was somewhere uptown in the East Twenties. Was he hurt? Sick? What the heck was wrong? He’d certainly acted like he enjoyed what we did on New Year’s Eve, so I couldn’t imagine that he might not like me anymore. I had a good cry with Lucy and she told me not to worry—Mack would come around. Maybe he had to go out of town or something and couldn’t get word to me.
Anyway, I didn’t hear from Mack for two months. I was hurt and angry, but eventually I forgot about him. I went about my business, working at the gym, training, and trying to have fun. I didn’t date anyone else.
And then in March, Mack showed up. He walked in as if he’d never been gone, started using the speed bag, and ignored me . I couldn’t believe it. I overheard some of the guys asking him where he’d been, and Mack told them he’d moved and just “hadn’t feltlike coming.” Well, everyone knew we’d been dating, so they all figured it was my fault or something. I was furious. The famous Judy Cooper temper reared its ugly head.
I went up to him and demanded to know why he hadn’t called or come to see me. Mack just shrugged and said he didn’t want to.
“Why not?” I asked. I was near tears, I was so mad. “I thought you liked me!”
He just looked at me with an expression of disgust —that’s the only way I can describe it—and he said, “Not after that night.”
Then he walked away.
I could’ve killed him.
Instead, I went over to where we kept the boxing gloves for people to rent. I put a pair on, went over to Jimmy, one of my friends at the gym, and asked him to tie them. Jimmy was a big Negro who didn’t say much, but he asked, “What is it you-za gonna do, Judy?”
“You watch,” I answered.
I climbed through the ropes and jumped into the ring. I stood in the middle and shouted to Mack, “Get up here, you louse!”
Mack just laughed.
“What’s wrong, afraid a girl will beat you?” I taunted. That got him. Some of the men were urging him to get up there and face me.
“What, are you scared ?” I taunted.
By then, Freddie had walked into the room. “Judy! Get down!” he ordered.
“No, Freddie. This is between me and Mack,” I said.
I guess he knew me well enough by then to know I was pretty stubborn. I wasn’t getting out of the ring.
Finally, Mack couldn’t take the ribbing the other guys were throwing at him. He put on some gloves and got in the ring with me. Freddie climbed in to referee.
“I want a real match,” I told Mack. “No pulling back becauseI’m a girl. I’m playing for keeps, so you’d better, too.” Then I turned to Freddie. “I mean it. Treat this for real.”
“Judy, are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Absolutely. I want to teach this coward a lesson.”
That got Mack riled up. “Fine,” he said. “I’m gonna beat your ass, slut .”
I couldn’t believe he called me that. I almost tore into him right then, but Freddie got between us. He pushed me to my corner and waited until Mack was in his. Then we started the match.
Round one.
I moved to the center of the ring and met Mack there. He swung at me hard and connected with the side of my head. I felt it, too, but it didn’t stop me from delivering a powerful right hook—right on his nose! Mack stumbled back, but I kept moving forward. A jab, a cross, another jab, and a second cross. All four connected. I followed this barrage with an uppercut and then a slam into his stomach, which he didn’t
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