Sam’s got a concussion. But don’t worry. He sounds fine to me. He’s giving them hell over at the Veterans’ hospital. He wants to leave, but they’re not letting him. Where the hell are you and how come you’re not answering your phone? That old crank still won’t tell me where you are!

Hector frowned. Being a boxer, he knew all too well that a concussion could be nothing but it could also feel like nothing and turn into something bad. He’d been telling Sam for years now that old VW van of his was a deathtrap. He’d seen them look like accordions after a wreck. No telling how bad the wreck had really been. Sam was too old to be dealing with that shit.

He listened to his voicemail next: the first from Sam telling him he’d be late and arguing with someone else in the background then two from Abel saying basically the same thing he’d said in the texts. The last one was from Abel again just a few minutes earlier. In it, he wasn’t as calm as in the first two.

“Sam’s pissing me off. Nobody’s heard from you in hours, and he’s the only one that knows where you are, but he ain’t talking. Call me now, Hector, or I swear to God, concussion or not, I’ll go down to that hospital and beat it out of that old man.”

“Damn it.” He hung up and hit speed dial.

“Something wrong?” Leticia asked, pulling away just slightly.

“Yeah, there is. Do you two have a car here?”

They both shook their heads. “No, we were dropped off and were gonna call and get a ride until . . .”

Abel answered just then. “Where the hell are you!”

Hector motioned to Leticia to give him a second. He explained quickly about the tournament and having to turn off his phone then asked about Sam.

“How’s he doing?”

“Good enough. You know him. He’s probably driving everyone crazy at that hospital. I guess he’s got some hemorrhaging in his brain, but he ain’t saying much more.” Abel chuckled. “He says they’re full of shit. He feels just fine.”

Hector was still focused on the words that scared the hell out of him. He’s got some hemorrhaging in his brain.

As soon as he was off the phone with Abel, he asked the girls where they wanted to be dropped off and apologized for having to postpone their night together. He skidded out of the parking lot, his heart racing in fear. He should’ve known something was wrong when Sam never showed up. The only thing that would’ve kept Sam from being here today was death itself or being held against his will. Hector was only grateful it was the latter.

Chapter 5

Between dealing with Sam who was released the day after the tournament and his training for the fight that Friday, Hector hadn’t been able to make it to either of the chess teams meetings yet. To say his brother had been ecstatic about Hector making the U.S team was the understatement of the century. Abel said he’d always known Hector was good but he’d never imagined he was U.S. team good. The guy was telling everyone that would listen, and even though Hector would roll his eyes and pretend to be annoyed by Abel’s bragging, he secretly loved how proud he’d made his big brother.

Sam had been adamantly warned that he needed to take it easy—no overexerting himself, just rest. But he was moving that week to Florida, and, of course, his stubborn ass wasn’t putting that off for anything, no matter what the “quacks” said.

So Hector and Abel had done most of the work, helping Sam load up the huge moving truck for the last few days, and then Hector hit the gym every evening. Sam and his brother would be driving cross-country for the next week. Hector had already downloaded and setup the video message app on the old crank’s phone so they could stay in touch about anything Hector needed to ask him about chess. The chess team would have to wait until the end of week at the earliest. But he was getting antsy, wondering if he’d have to prove himself still.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait until the end of the week to find out. To his surprise, Walter showed up on Wednesday at the gym. Hector spotted him just as he was finishing up his training with Abel in the ring. He walked over to the side of the ring and leaned on the ropes. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Walter shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. He glanced around the gym. “I’ve been, you know, thinking about joining a gym. You’re right: I need to get in shape.”

Hector laughed. “But I thought you were up to lifting thirty-five pounds.” He climbed over the ropes and jumped off the ring, landing next to Walter. He jabbed the big guy against the arm to show him he was only messing with him. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, my friend. And I just finished my workout, so I can show you around and get you started if you want.”

Walter smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for.” His eyes went a little sheepish. “You did say you owed me one, so I thought maybe you could show me what the best workout for me is. Just this once,” he added quickly. “After that, I’ll just do whatever you showed me on my own.”

Hector smiled as they both made their way to the locker room. Walter certainly hadn’t wasted any time cashing in the favor. Hector hadn’t even remembered saying it until Walter brought it up. Of course, he agreed, not so much because he owed him for his help at the tournament but because he was still feeling that annoying twinge of remorse.

“First thing,” he said as he took a seat on a bench in the locker room. He started to work on taking the wrap off his hands but stopped and looked up. “What your wearing is not gonna fly. It will for today, but next time you need to wear shorts.”