Shadowboxer (32 page)
Both of us were taking a big fat chance.
Mystery Ringtone
T
HIRI PICKED UP
Pook’s phone on the ninth ring. Pook was outside talking to the builders about the way she wanted the dormitories for the fighters to be constructed, but she had left her phone in the kitchen. Mya and Thiri were chopping up vegetables. Mya froze when she heard the ringtone. It was the same strange tune that Shea’s smartphone had played when the woman who sounded like Mya’s mother had called. This was a different phone, but the sound of that music was unmistakable. Mya trembled, not daring to pick up.
So Thiri grabbed the phone and answered.
‘It’s for you,’ she said, passing the phone over.
Mya held the phone for a moment, hesitating. She had never told Thiri about the call that had sent her running into the forest, the call she had been so certain had come from their mother.
‘Go on,’ Thiri urged. ‘Find out what they want!’
‘It’s me,’
said the voice.
‘If you’re not sure who I am right now, it doesn’t matter. You’ll work it out in time.’
The voice did sound like their mother’s voice, but this time the woman was speaking Thai, not Burmese.
‘Why do you sound like my mother?’
‘All the women in our family have similar voices. Do you get it?’
‘No.’
Laughter.
‘It’s OK. You will. Time doesn’t always flow in a straight line. Mya, the future isn’t how you think it is. You’ll find out. I know it’s hard right now because you have abilities but no teacher. I can’t do anything to interfere, but I can strengthen your heart. You will learn how to see along the river of time just as you already know how to move between the worlds.’
‘The river of time? Are you... calling me from the future?’
‘I am with you always, Mya. Trust that you do have a place in the world. You will find it. Have faith.’
The connection cut.
‘Who was that?’ Thiri asked.
Mya lowered the phone, stunned.
‘I think it was me,’ she said.
New Jade
I
CAN’T REALLY
say whether coming so close to death changed me. It sure seemed like there was a lot of death in my life at once. Nana passed in September, a week after I beat Gretchen in Las Vegas. That hurt, but at least I knew her battle was over. As much as I missed her, I knew that by the end of her illness she had been ready to go.
It was good to have my mom home. I never thought I’d want to be fussed over and protected, but after what happened? I didn’t mind so much.
Waldo had been waiting for me when I got back from Las Vegas. I cried all over him, but he never changed into Shea. Or a lion. He was just a beautiful cat, a good friend with a passion for fig cookies and pineapple yogurt. He still disappeared from time to time, but only in the way all cats do.
Shea’s body was never found. I exchanged e-mails with Parawat, and she couldn’t explain what happened. She told me she was going to focus on making sure Richard Fuller stayed in prison for the rest of his life. She said that Shea had understood the risks when he became involved.
‘The rest is down to fate,’ she wrote.
That didn’t help me. I was in pain.
I didn’t know what to think about fate.
I
WAS IN
my dressing room warming up and trying to decide if I had to puke yet when the door burst open and Malu came in.
‘Atlantic City is so tacky,’ she said. ‘It’s all crusty old white people with orthopedic shoes. Why can’t you go down to Rio to fight?’
‘Maybe next year,’ I said. ‘Let me get through this one first.’
It was December and I’d just turned eighteen. If I could beat Keisha Grant tonight, I’d win my first title.
If.
Keisha’s not exactly made of strawberry jam.
‘How’s my mom?’
‘I talked her out of coming back here. She doesn’t want to break your concentration, but she’ll be in Mr. B’s box, cheering for you.’
I started working the kinks out of my neck, but I could sense Malu giving me the Malu-eye.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Cake asked me to give you this. From Mya.’
She held out a letter. I unfolded the thin airmail paper and a photo fell out. The letter was written in Thai, with Cake’s English translation pencilled in between the lines.
Dear Jade,
I hope you are healthy, my friend. Thank you for the toys. Baby Lek enjoys the cars. Pook is getting used to nagas and is not freaked out anymore. She is a kind grandmother to us.
Pook asked me to stay on the farm and not go to the forest for a while. She says I must be an example to the others so they won’t be animals. Maybe I will change my mind about this! I will come through your spider plant and surprise you! I am kidding. Maybe I’m not kidding!
Soon we will have internet at the camp and we can talk face to face. Until then I am keeping you in my prayers.
Last week I saw Kala Sriha in the jungle, near the farm. He watches. You told me you are sad about Shea. I understand, Jade. Thiri and I still miss our parents. Pook cannot find them yet, but we won’t give up.
I believe we live many lives. I hope you will be happy in this life. The future is very large. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how big it is.
Mya
P.S. Can you send Eva’s recipe for pączki? Everyone here wants to eat them.
I looked at the photo. Pook was in the middle with one arm around Mya and the other around Mya’s sister Thiri. I’d never seen Mya really smile before. The effect was dazzling.
I wiped away a couple tears. Shea hadn’t died for nothing.
‘Oh no, none of that,’ Malu said, whisking the letter away before I could drip on it. ‘You got to stay hard for this fight. Keisha’s probably over there in her dressing room chewing on some raw steak or something.’
I laughed. ‘Khari said almost the exact same thing.’
‘Did he?’ Malu made a hmmph sound. ‘I saw him hanging around outside like a big giant puppy. What’s going on with the two of you?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, and she snorted.
I could see myself in the dressing room mirror. I hadn’t even thought about Khari that way, not lately. And I used to want him so bad.
Could I be the same girl who had been so intimidated by Eva that I’d gone outside to visit Quinton instead of standing up for myself? Was I the same Old Jade who had lost my shit all over Tommy Zhang and accidentally set in motion this whole chain of events that had ended up with Richard Fuller in jail, Mya on Pook’s farm, and Shea dead?
I don’t know. They say you can’t put your foot in the same river twice. Maybe I was still the same river, but there was a lot of water gone downstream since that day I’d woken up with a black eye and a bad attitude.
‘Khari and me are just friends,’ I said. ‘I had my chance, but I decided to take a different path. That’s how it’s meant to be.’
Malu looked surprised. Maybe I even surprised myself. My ass says all kinds of things I don’t expect.
A
FTER SHE LEFT
me alone in the dressing room, I started going through my pre-fight rituals. First, I puked. Then I brushed my teeth and did a little shadowboxing. I was probably outmatched by Keisha Grant, and I didn’t really care.
I picked up my rope, did some skipping in the dressing room, thinking of the kids in Bangkok training hard every day. I imagined Pook setting up her camp—if she wasn’t afraid of nagas, why should I be afraid to be happy? Maybe I just had to accept that the things that make me happy are the things that make most people run the other way.
‘Jade? You ready?’ Mr B. was tapping on the door.
Limping a little, I followed him down the hall to the open doorway where I could see my team waiting for me. The lights and the noise and the music hit me like a wave. It was everything I ever wanted.
‘I’m ready,’ I said.
Acknowledgements
I started working on
Shadowboxer
in 2008, which is a long time ago now! A lot of people have helped me; if I’ve overlooked anyone, I hope they will forgive me.
For their thoughtful and encouraging readings of various drafts I would like to thank Stephanie Burgis, Kim Raimann Harnett, Justina Robson, Renée Sweet, Nicky Browne, Farah Mendlesohn and Alis Rasmussen. For professional advice I’m grateful to Karen Mahoney, Patrick Ness and Mic Cheetham.
When it comes to writing across cultures, I tried to follow the guidance in
Writing the Other
by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. I did as much research as I could, and I ran the book by people who know the cultures. No doubt I will have made mistakes here, but I have done my sincere best. I’m grateful to Lee Ferguson for telling me about life in a Muay Thai camp in Bangkok. I thank Rochita Loenen-Ruiz and Aliette de Bodard for talking at length with me about the mistakes writers make when working across cultures, and for helping me to recognise when I was making them. Dariya Suebkraisorn was instrumental in advising on cultural detail and I especially value her suggestions for ways to depict Thailand without continually falling back on stereotypes. I am indebted to Azyaded Huerta for her kind assistance with details of Latino culture in the New York City area. I thank Marianne de Pierres, Caroline Holley, Tori Truslow, and Samuel Cerritos for offering valuable contacts.
Huge thanks to my partner Steve Morris for explaining so much about MMA and for technical advice on fights and training.
My agent Alex Adsett believed in this project even in the times when I lost faith. Thanks, Alex. I’m grateful to Erik Mohr for applying so much talent and effort to the cover art. I would like to thank my editor Jon Oliver as well as Ben Smith, Michael Molcher, Simon Parr, David Moore, and everyone else at Ravenstone. Working with you guys has been such a pleasure.
Finally, a big shout-out to my kids: Tyrone, Rhiannon, and Sean, who are the motivation behind everything I do.
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In the house with no front door, a group of teenagers are trapped in assorted dimensions of myth and history, undergoing the trials that will shape them to step into his cloven footwear – or destroy them. Assisted by an aspiring chef called Gavin and Jinx, a young witch with more face-piercing than fae-power, Pen must try to stop the Devil’s deadly game – before it’s too late.
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Lavie Tidhar, World Fantasy Award-winning author
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