The Cleaner - 02 by Mark Dawson

Author:Mark Dawson [Dawson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Dog Publishing
Published: 2013-07-07T23:00:00+00:00

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28.

MILTON LOOKED at the jobs that needed doing. As Rutherford had suggested, the hall was in a bit of a state. The walls were peeling in places, large swathes of damp bubbling up beneath the paint and with patches of dark fungus spreading up from the floor. Some of the floorboards were rotting, one of the toilets had been smashed and the roof leaked in several places. Buckets had been placed to catch the falling water and, looking up to fix the position on the roof, Milton took the ladder that Rutherford offered, went outside, braced it against the wall and climbed up to take a better look. Several of the tiles were missing. He climbed back down, went to the small hardware store that served the Estate and bought a wide plastic sheet, a hammer and a handful of nails. He spent the next hour and a half securing the sheet so that it sheltered the missing tiles. It was only a temporary fix, but it would suffice until he could return with the materials to do the job properly.

When Milton returned to the church hall, he found Elijah sparring inside the ring. The boy was wearing a head guard, vest and shorts, his brand new Nikes gleaming against the dirty canvas. His opponent looked to be a year or two older and was a touch taller and heavier, yet Elijah was giving him all he could handle. He was light on his feet and skipped in and out of range, absorbing his opponent’s slow jabs on his gloves and retaliating with quick punches of his own. Milton had been a decent boxer in the Forces and was confident that he knew how to spot raw talent when he saw it. And Elijah had talent; he was sure about that.

Elijah allowed the bigger boy to come onto him, dropping his head so that it was shielded between his shoulders and forearms. The boy dived forward, Elijah turning at the last moment so that his jab bounced off his right shoulder, leaving his guard open and his chin exposed. Elijah fired in a straight right-hand of his own, his gloved fist crumpling into the boy’s headguard with enough force to propel his gumshield from his mouth. He was stood up by the sudden blow, dazed, and Elijah hit him with a left and another right.

The boy was staggering as Rutherford rang the bell to bring the sparring to an end.

Elijah turned to step through the ropes but Rutherford sent him back again with a stern word; he went back to his opponent and they touched gloves. “That’s better,” Rutherford said as he held the ropes open for the two of them. He sent them both to the changing rooms. He saw Milton and came across to him.

“Sorry about that,” Milton said.

“Boy’s keen. Needs to learn some discipline, though.”

“What do you think?”

“There’s potential. He’s got an attitude on him, no doubt, but we can work with that.”

“You’ll have him back, then?”

“For sure.

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