There was a speed bag, a heavy bag, a little two-ended jeeter bag that even Hawk had trouble with, a couple of body bags, and an open space with rubber floor mats for sparring.
Henry Cimoli came in wearing a white satin sweat suit. And custom sneakers.
'Thought I saw you come in,' Henry said. 'New sparring partner?'
'Sort of,' I said. 'Henry, this is Z. Z, Henry.'
They shook hands. When they finished, Henry shook his as if it hurt.
'Nice grip you got there, Z,' Henry said.
Z nodded.
'Hawk still in East Bumfuck?' Henry said to me.
'Central Asia,' I said.
'When's he coming home,' Henry said.
'Whenever he wants to,' I said.
Henry nodded.
'That would be Hawk,' he said. 'You guys gonna box?'
'I'm conducting a little introduction for Z,' I said. 'Wanna sit in?'
'He want to be a pro or just win the fights in the alley?'
'Alley,' Z said.
'Probably win most of those now, being so big and strong,' Henry said.
'Wanna win all,' Z said.
'But no one ever taught him,' I said to Henry.
Henry looked at Z.
'Okay,' Henry said. 'I fought at one-thirty-two. Long time ago. I weigh about one-forty-five now. And, if you don't know, I'd clean your clock.'
Z shook his head.
'Can he take a punch?' Henry asked me.
'Yes.'
'You've tested that?'
'Yes.'
Henry nodded.
'Wanna try it?' he said.
'Me and you?' Z said.
'Sure, open hand, we'll just slap. Nobody gets hurt.'
Z looked at me.
'It'll be instructive,' I said. 'You won't hurt him.'
He shrugged.
'Right here?' he said.
'Sure,' Henry said. 'That'll be your corner. This'll be mine. Spenser will ref.'
'No need to worry about hitting him below the belt,' I said to Z. 'He's so short nobody can reach that low.'
Z stood in his corner.
I said, 'Bong!'
Henry went into his fighting stance. Left foot forward, knees bent, hands high on either side of his face. Z came from his corner with his hands held loosely a little above his waist. He put out a left jab at Henry, who moved around it. Z followed with a right cross, and Henry moved around it. They went around the room that way for more than a minute, with Z throwing openhanded punches, and Henry bobbing and weaving just enough to make him miss.
Z was breathing hard.
'Stay still,' he said.
Henry grinned at him.
'Okay,' he said, and stopped.
Z closed with him. Henry leaned and rolled and bobbed without moving his feet and Z still couldn't hit him. Z was arm-weary. His hands were low. He tried a left. Henry checked it with his right, and stepped around it. Henry put two open-right-hand punches into the body, and as Z wheeled toward him, Henry put an open left hook onto Z's chin. Z shook his head and tried a right. Henry checked it with his left hand and put an overhand left onto Z's jaw. Z lunged at Henry, trying to grab him. Henry put out a left jab that Z ran into, and then rolled around Z so that he was behind him. He hit him a couple of times in the kidneys. And as Z turned wearily, his hands down, his voice rasping,
