Survival in The Back Yard

Mick Billings was born a fighter. He'd been small for his age all through school, until he turned sixteen. Then he spurted up to six feet. Four inches, but not much extra weight. He grew up in a rough area of the city. His small size tempted the normal bullies. He fought them, with savagery. Sometimes, he'd get his ass kicked good. Sometimes not. Eventually, the bullies left him alone, because he was simply too much trouble. He wouldn't quit and wouldn't run away. And, small as he was, he was quick and could hurt people. So, by the time he was fourteen he'd earned some peace, along with his scars.

Then he grew. He didn't lose his quickness or his edge. He decided that he needed to practice some form of fighting. He joined a boxing club. He was good at it, but it didn't satisfy. One of the guys at the gym told him about another club, where fights were 'more interesting.' The 'Club' operated out of O'Malley's Bar. Fights were held at various warehouses around town. No gloves. No weapons. No rules. You won when your opponent didn't get up.

Mick loved it.

A good deal of wagering went on at these bouts. Mick almost always won his fights, although sometimes it cost a lot. Broken ribs, swollen hands and swollen, cut eyes. The Club had medicos in attendance. Treatment was available even after the evening of the bouts. Scars eventually healed. Mostly.

Mick bet on himself. He amassed a good stake by doing that. After two years and twenty-three bouts, Mick retired. His record was 20-1-2. The ties were when neither man could continue. The loss was mainly the result of one big punch that Mick didn't see. He avenged the loss three months later. Benny Barrette went down early and often in that bout. Mick won a lot of money. He 'retired' after two more bouts.

All the time Mick was doing the fights, he was also working at Mason's Gymnasium, as a boxing instructor. He also taught yoga. It helped with flexibility. He lifted for power and needed yoga to keep from binding up.

Mick was a high school graduate with no further education. But he was quick mentally as well as physically. At Mason's he began to offer some help to Buddy Mason with the books. Buddy was loathe to spend money just for someone to keep track of his money. That reluctance cost him, because the gym collected a goodly amount of cash for daily entries.

Mick developed a system to track the cash. Credit cards were easy. But cash - fungible. And, if it could be kept in the business, cash had obvious advantages.

By the time he turned twenty-six Mick owned half of the gym. Buddy had systematically rewarded Mick, not only for the cash tracking system, but for other ideas that brought in more trade. At the start, the gym served mostly men - younger ones. Mick started yoga classes for women and older folks. He also expanded the use of machine equipment, because it was easier for beginners. He hired attractive people - men and women - to instruct. He changed the lighting. In short, he turned the place into a real money maker. Buddy was grateful.

Buddy had no family left. He was seventy-six when he decided to pack it in. He 'rented' Mick his half of the gym. In effect, Mick paid him a monthly amount. The two had become quite close, and the debt would be forgiven when Buddy passed.

Mick met Nora Brady at the gym. She came in and bought a membership. She was a looker, auburn hair and a pretty face. Medium height with a great figure. She was also quite the athlete. She'd played soccer in college. Mick made sure she was in a yoga class that he also attended.

He invited her out for coffee after an evening class, and she accepted. They spent nearly two hours talking in the coffee shop. She was a lawyer, working for a big firm doing securities law.

Mick decided to court her. That is, he pursued her in a serious way, without being too obvious about it.

Nora found Mick to be attractive, right away. And...he owned the gym. She knew he had no college education, but she also knew how smart he was.

One further qualification Mick had was sex. He was good at it, creative and strong. Nora overcame initial reluctance about Mick. She saw that he was after her. She decided to let him catch her. They were married a year after the coffee shop talk. Mick was thirty. Nora was twenty-five.

Things went so very well for the couple. Mick bought two other gyms. Nora had twin girls, and then a boy. Sadie and Sarah. Johnnie.

Nora went part time until Johnnie was six, and in first grade. Then she started back full time at her firm. Mick spent more time at home with the kids. His gyms kind of ran themselves. He hired good people and kept tabs on all of them. He had video monitors in all three gyms, feeding to the house. And he had a habit of dropping in to one or the other on an irregular basis.

So, Mick was almost always home when the kids came from school. He missed a lot of their Saturday sports, because that was the day of the week for regular gym visits. But he was always there on Sundays. Nora had Saturdays. Mick wanted her to do that so she would be there for her children, and not working.

The two of them also hired a woman to live in, clean and usually cook. Lena Rodriguez. Lena was a huge help to Mick keeping the house together. She was eighteen when she came, just after Johnnie was born. She married at twenty-three and had two kids. But she was still at the house daytimes. Her two kids also came quite often. Lili and Linda. Mick and Nora's brood took them into the family as if they were younger sisters. Eventually, Mick had a smallish house built on an adjacent property and Lena, her husband Ralph and the kids moved in. Ralph was a roofer. He was a dashing guy, though, with dark hair and a thin moustache.

Nora kidded Mick and Lena about slipping off with Ralph. The two of them flirted. But that was as far as it went. For Nora, flirting with the handsome Ralph spiced up her nights with Mick.

Mick was fifty-two and rich when he began to have some doubts about Nora. She was forty-seven and a partner at her firm. The kids were out of the house. Johnnie had started college. But Nora.....well, she stopped working out at the original, Arlington, gym. It was gradual. For all the years of the marriage, Nora had come three times a week to the original gym, to keep fit. Now she'd tapered off and then stopped. She believed that Mick wouldn't notice. She was still quite fit. But she was keeping fit in another way now.

Mick did notice.

He did a discrete investigation and found out that Nora was taking lessons in some Korean fighting technique - taekwondo? She was going to a small operation near her work. Don's Dojo. It was run by a fellow named Don DeMarko. Mick had a friend go by and check it out. He found out that Don was quite accomplished, as a fighter and a businessman. His dojo was a sidelight for him. He owned three restaurants and a spa. He was thirty-four. An internet bio listed him as 6'2", 190 pounds. A photo showed him as about that build, darkish blond hair in a ponytail. A little further research revealed that he was a silver-spoon kid - the youngest son of a multi-millionaire couple active in philanthropy in the area.

But, silver-spoon or not, Don had won quite a few competitions.

Further inquiry by an agent Mick hired showed that Nora was taking 'private lessons' at the dojo.

Mick and Nora had always kept separate finances, both contributing to the family pot equally. Mick had a buddy hack Nora's main bank account and the credit card associated with it. No payment to Don's Dojo, or any other of his businesses. But there were weekly cash withdrawals of $600.00.

Having found out all of this, Mick was nevertheless unsure what Nora was doing. He had no direct evidence that she was screwing Don.

Mick had a heavy bag delivered to him from the gym. He hung it in his basement. He used it every day, morning and afternoon. When Nora was home, he never went down to the bag. Sometimes, on weekends, Mick would go to the gym farthest away and use the bag there. He'd always liked the heavy bag. Every week for many years he had worked out with one. Once a week. Now it was way more than that.

Mick also watched Don DeMarko fight, on YouTube. The taekwondo matches were stylized. Everyone wore pads and could only hit and kick. Even then, some punches and kicks were forbidden. No head butts. No elbows or knees. Nothing below the belt. DeMarko was very gifted at this sport. He was powerful and quick enough to win.

At fifty-two, Mick had not had a real fight for eight years. Even that was over in seconds, when Mick cold-cocked a guy who tried to strongarm him outside one of his gyms. But, earlier in life, of course, Mick had often fought. When he trained on the bag, Mick gradually got his mojo back.

One Wednesday evening, Mick was downstairs doing bag work when Nora came home. He had a Don Henley CD playing 'The Heart of the Matter' over and over. Not all of it. Just the part that went,

'I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak, and my thoughts seem to scatter. But I think it's about FORGIVENESS, FORGIVENESS....even if, even if you don't love me anymore.'

That passage played over and over. When the forgiveness part came, hard, devastating blows were delivered to the bag, sometimes low, sometimes high. Sometimes with fists, sometimes with elbows, sometimes with knees - low. The phrase from the song played over and over.

There were very loud grunts and very loud sounds of body to bag collisions which could be heard over the loud music.

Nora was early and she heard all of that. She went down the stairs and peeked around the corner. Mick had his back to her. Nora stared for, maybe, a full minute. Then she scurried up the stairs. The workout continued for another thirty minutes. Nora showered, changed into sweats and started cooking spaghetti. She was in the kitchen when Mick came up the basement stairs, unwrapping his hands.

He stopped and stared at Nora. She stared back. There were no words spoken. Mick nodded, brushed by Nora and jogged up the stairs to the second floor. Soon the shower came on.

Nora was unnerved. At a loss. She feared that Mick, somehow, had the idea that she didn't love him anymore. But the sight and sounds of the attack on the bag absolutely did not indicate forgiveness. Not at all.

Mick was wrong about Nora's love for him, if he thought it had gone. But...but, it was true that she had been attracted to Don DeMarko. Very attracted. Her lessons with him had begun almost three months before. Gradually she ramped them up, until she was going three times a week, and staying for two hours. She was in great shape - physically. Mentally, she was a mess. Don had been trying for her almost the entire time. She'd shut him down - kind of. Not completely, as she should have done.

The two were often alone in the dojo. Don pressed. He was younger, cut and handsome. And he clearly wanted her. She was much older, and she was flattered. She let him get close. One afternoon, as she was leaving the place, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her. It was not unexpected, and it was returned. They made out, just inside the door. His big hands were all over her, and hers went to his cock. His big, hard dick.

But she broke away from him and almost ran to her car. She drove around for a while before she went home.

The next time she was scheduled for a lesson at the dojo she was conflicted. But she went. In the end, she went to Don, knowing what would likely happen. That was two weeks before she heard Mick's basement workout. In those two weeks, Nora had been royally fucked by Don after each of the six 'lessons.' Always at the dojo. There was a couch in the back, in his office. But at times Don would toss her down onto the mat, strip her and fuck her right there. He easily overpowered her. She liked that so much.

The sex with Don was great for Nora. It was also great for Don. He was single, and he had many women for sex, when he wanted that. But Nora was, to him, tops.

Don wasn't exactly 'tops' for Nora. She and Mick had maintained a fantastic sex life during the marriage. Mick was ardent and creative. But, after all, she thought, he was only Mick. The only guy for her for many years. She felt guilt at having given in to Don. But she also felt as if she had found a fountain of youth. On the weekends, she'd brought her newly youthful attitude to bed with Mick. Their sex had reached new levels of intensity. Mick didn't mind that, but it made him suspicious. Nora thought that she was doing Mick a favor by arranging to intensify his sexual experience.

The weekend sex, and maybe one weeknight's sex, had started ramping up before Nora gave in to Don. Mick became more and more certain that Nora was fucking around. At first, he was wrong about that. But later...he was right on time.

He'd been doing the bag work for five weeks when Nora heard him. She was just back from getting fucked at the dojo. She was filled with dread when she saw Mick at the bag. She thought about all of it as she showered (and douched). She thought more as she cooked. She was sure that Mick was in some sort of controlled rage. But she was not at all sure that he knew all of what she'd done. Of course, maybe that uncertainty would make no difference at all.

Nora decided that she had to stop all contact with Don. She'd miss the sex. She'd also miss Don. He was a quick witted, intelligent guy. Even a kind man, in his own way. She was so much older. But if she had been his age, she might have....what? Left Mick? No way. No way, if he didn't leave her first.

And she also thought that she would miss the taekwondo workout. Even absent the sex.

She was not a woman to panic, but this was as close to panic as she'd experienced in quite a while.

Mick came back downstairs as the meal was ready. He looked at her and moved to serve himself spaghetti and salad. He didn't speak. Nora served herself a plate and sat across from him at the kitchen table, where they'd been eating since the kids were gone. She started eating, as did Mick. It was eerily silent as they ate. Slurps from Mick. Nora ate more delicately. She was so tense that she stopped eating, for fear that she'd toss her dinner. Mick didn't seem to have that problem. He finished quickly, as usual. He walked back upstairs and soon emerged with a small duffel bag. He got a jacket from the hall closet.

Nora watched and followed him. As he approached the door she said, "Don't leave me, Mick. I love you."

He turned. He said, "I'll be back here at seven tomorrow evening. Have the asshole here. We'll settle this then."

Nora said, "That's not a good idea, Mick. Please stay."

He said, "If he isn't here, we're toast." Then he walked out and got into his Camry. He drove away without looking back. Nora watched. She turned and saw that his phone was on the hall table.

That Saturday Mick made the rounds of the three gyms, as usual. He found that the work settled his mood. After he finished the rounds, he made a Don Henley set of music and put it on his small MP3 player. It had the forgiveness part. It also had a part of 'I Will Not Go Quietly.'

'Yeah, I'm gonna tear it up, gonna trash it up, gonna round it up, I'm gonna shake it up, Ooh, baby, I will not lie down.

Turn this thing around, I will not go quietly, I will not lie down, I will not go quietly, I will not lie down, I will not go quietly, I will not lie down. No, I will not lie down, no.'

He went down to the boxing room at his gym and worked the bag there, for a while. Just to keep rhythm.

Nora's mood was anything but settled. She had called Don that morning. She knew that he would be at one of his restaurants. She met him there at ten am.

They sat at a table and Don asked, "Why are you here, Nora?"

She said, "Mick....Mick is in some sort of mood. He's in a savage mood, really. He walked out on me last night and just said to have you at the house at seven to settle all this."

"What the fuck, Nora? What does he mean?"

"I think...well, I think he wants to do you harm." She described what she saw in the basement with the heavy bag.

Don smiled. He said, "He's old, Nora. Will he try to shoot me?"

"No. But he maybe wants to fight. Or...talk. I don't know which."

Don said, "I'm not gonna fight an old man. No way I can win. I'll kick his ass and get arrested."

Nora said, "Don, maybe. But if he, somehow, defeats you. I mean if he wants a fight, and he wins. Well, maybe I can save my marriage. You could let him win."

"I WILL NOT LET SOME GEEZER BEAT ME!"

"Okay. Well. Then decline to fight. Come to the house and then refuse to fight. Maybe he'll see that as a win."

Don asked, "What does he know about what we've done? I don't see how he can be sure we did the deed."

Nora shrugged. "All I can say is that he's really pissed off. I need to...I love him, Don. I don't want to lose him. I need your help."

Don said, "It really shouldn't matter to him. He's not losing you. And I bet your marital sex has ramped up, yeah?"

"Yeah. But he'll need some form of...of...he'll need to regain some respect."

Don hesitated. He said, "Nora, I'll be at your house. But I won't let him mess with me. If he does, I'll beat his ass. Maybe I'll fuck you on his bed, then. Make him watch, if he's conscious."

Nora was dismayed by his intransigent attitude. Men! Macho assholes all of them.

She got up and left. As she was walking away, she said, "You won't be doing me again, Don. This was a mistake." She walked off.

Don sat and considered the situation. He very much enjoyed fucking Nora. He didn't want that to stop. He decided that he'd react to Mick, depending upon what happened at the house. His goal was to humiliate Mick and keep fucking Nora. He didn't want her forever. Only for the next year or so. He thought that seeing him beat down her husband would overcome any reluctance on her part to continue with him. Or...maybe Mick would simply back down.

Mick arrived at the house exactly at seven. There was a Maserati parked in the driveway. He opened the door and saw Don sitting in the recliner. Mick's recliner.

Nora was in the kitchen. She hustled in when she heard Mick come in the door. She saw that Don was in Mick's chair.

She said, "Mick, Don only just got here."

Mick walked through to the kitchen. He said, "Let's talk out here." He walked past Nora. He was wearing some low-rise boots, loose jeans and a dark sweatshirt. Don looked at him as he passed by. He didn't look his age.

Don was forced to get out of the recliner and go to the kitchen. Mick was sitting in a chair at the table. Nora was across from him. Don sat between them, at right angles.

Looking directly at Don, Mick said, "You're through screwing my wife."

Nora gasped. She said, "Mick....Mick...."

Don chuckled. "Isn't that her choice?"

"Not if she wants to stay married. You're a major asshole, and I'll just say, if you keep on with her, I'll fuck you up."

"Bullshit." Don was getting annoyed. "I'll do what I want. You're not going to do shit."

Nora shouted for them to stop.

Mick arose. He nodded toward the back yard. He said, "Out there. We need a more robust discussion." He walked out the patio door and proceeded into the yard.

Nora screamed at him. "Mick. Mick....he's a black belt. Please don't....please."

But Don was already on his way out the door. The sliding door to the back. He walked down the patio stairs and strode up on Mick, who was sidling back and forth, half turned away.

Suddenly Mick sprang at Don, taking him by surprise. Mick head butted Don. A blow to the cheek as Don tried to evade. He was too late.

Apparently, in taekwondo, people bowed before any attack. Mick skipped that part. After the head butt, Mick kicked Don in the shin as Don reeled away holding his face. Don could be heard to gasp. Mick's boots had steel toes. Don tried to hop away. But Mick was on him, elbows flying. There was no let up. Don went down hard.