and I see that the main fight, Elias’s one with Trent Garrison, has started. People here become animated watching their hero walking into the ring. I glance over at Kyra, see her face turned up, her eyes glued to the screen. An arrow of something sharp and painful hits me. She seems completely glued to the screen. Jessica must be salivating over this man too.
Cardoza takes off his robe, his tattooed physique on display. The crowd’s roar turns deafening. And still Kyra’s face is upturned. She can’t look away even if she tried. My teeth clench involuntarily.
I busy myself by looking over at the tables and checking to see if we need anything else. And then I hear more cheering. Cardoza looks fit and strong. He sends a powerful left hook into Garrison’s face and the crowd cheers. Kyra is clapping and cheering.
A part of me wishes I’d taken Jessica up on her offer. I could be drinking champagne, eating the best canapes, and mingling with the likes of Jessica and her friends.
“Elias!” the boy cries jubilantly, no longer invisible. His eyes are glued to the screen. He’s frozen. The cereal bar remains in his hand while the person he is serving patiently waits. I take it from his hand and give it. “Don’t forget why you’re here,” I remind him.
“Sorry.” He chews his lip and gets back to the task, still without giving me any eye contact. His sister watches him, turning all protective, like I used to be once.
“Do you want to watch this?” I ask him. “I can do this if you want to.” I feel bad, as if I’ve ruined his Saturday night for him. Who knows what horrors this kid has suffered? I’m guessing this is a respite for him, and guilt heats my face to think that I’ve rebuked him.
“Nah, it’s okay,” he replies, in a somber voice.
“Hey, buddy. Watch the fight. I can do that for you, or your sister can. Watch the fight, okay?”
The boy is about to hand out another cereal bar and I’m about to take it from him, when a memory shoots at me out of nowhere. He’s about the same age as Kane was when I left him. I try to suffocate the thought, putting it out as if I’m throwing a wet blanket over a fire. Killing it before the flame blazes out of control.
“It’s okay,” he says, and continues to hand out cereal bars, and watch the fight. I let him.
Yvette returns briefly to check our containers and refills them accordingly. She asks the girl and boy if they are okay, then disappears again. I ask him who he wants to win tonight.
“Elias,” his sister replies, as if I’m asking her a silly question.
“What about you, buddy?”
“Elias.” The boy’s focus is singular, handing out a cereal bar one at a time, his gaze going only as far as the hand of the person he is serving.
“Elias, huh? Everyone wants Elias.” I want Elias too. He’s the city’s hero, but something about him working with Kyra and Redhill, and ignoring my company, has given me a sour taste in my mouth.
Another shriek from the crowd makes us all look up. Elias staggers backwards as Garrison pummels him to the mat. Gloomy disquiet spreads around the air.
The boy shrieks as if he’s in pain. The girl moans with disappointment.
And then a chant breaks out. “Elias, Eli—yus, Eli—yus.”
Yvette returns just as the line starts to thin out even more. People are now scattered around the open space, eyes on the screen.
“We might get a bit of a break now,” says Simona. I forget she’s a good few years older than us.
“Why don’t you sit down?” I suggest, knowing that we’ve all been standing for a long time. “I’ve got this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go on, you have a break now.”
“Mommy, can we eat something?” The boy asks.
“I don’t know... uh...”
I turn to face Yvette and her kids. “Sure, they can eat. Your son wants to watch the fight.”
“I wanna watch it too,” the girl chimes in.
Yvette remains silent, her gaze trained on my face as if she’s waiting for authorization.
“How about you all hop over to the other side and let me serve you?” I suggest.
“But how will you manage?” Yvette asks.
I’ll manage because I don’t want her kids to go sit by themselves. “I can manage. Look, the line is dying down now.”
“Can we watch the fight, Mommy?” The boy. The damned boy. He’s smaller than Kane would have