The Boys from Biloxi: A Legal Thriller by John Grisham Page A

his own breathing. He pinned Patterson in a corner but he covered up and got away. The first round seemed to last for an hour and when the bell finally rang Hugh walked to his corner and flashed another smile at Keith and the boys. Buster sat him down as a second poured water in his mouth. Buster said, “Look, when he throws that left jab he drops his right hand, okay? Fake a right hook, then throw a left one. Got it?”
    Hugh nodded but found it hard to concentrate on anything. His heart was pounding, his blood was rushing. He had survived the first round with no damage at all, and as the crowd chanted he realized how much he was enjoying the fight. All he needed now was to kick Patterson’s ass.
    Patterson had other plans. He opened the second round with the same dancing and punching from long range and Hugh couldn’t pin him on the ropes. He missed badly with a couple of wild rights and Patterson countered with more jabs to the nose. Halfway through, Hugh got frustrated, ducked low and tried tocharge. Patterson hit him with a hard right that stunned him and buckled his knees. He didn’t go down, but the referee stepped in and gave him a standing eight count. By the end of it his eyes were clear and he was fired up. By allowing Patterson to bomb away, he was losing the fight. He had to get inside and land some body blows. Buster kept yelling, “Head up! Head up!” But the problem was Patterson’s long arms. Hugh practically tackled him and they grappled on the ropes until the ref broke it up. Patterson took a step back and threw a wild left that missed. Just like Buster said, he dropped his right hand, and Hugh spun a left hook that had no chance until Patterson stepped into it. The hook smashed into his right jaw, popped his head back against the ropes, and Hugh was quick enough to land a hard right as Patterson was falling. He fell in a corner, and would be there for some time.
    It was the first knockout of the evening and the crowd went wild. Hugh wasn’t sure what to do—he’d never scored a knockout—and had to be pushed by the ref to a neutral corner. As he began counting it was obvious that Patterson wasn’t getting up anytime soon. Keith and his friends were screaming and Hugh flashed another smile as he bobbed on his toes. He was almost as stunned as Patterson. Minutes passed and Patterson finally sat up, took some water, shook his head, and got to his feet. His coach walked him around the ring a few times as he came to his senses. At the appropriate time, Hugh stepped over and said, “Good fight.” Jimmy smiled but it was obvious he wanted out of the ring.
    When the referee raised Hugh’s hand and the announcer declared him a winner by knockout, the crowd roared its approval. Hugh basked in the glory and smiled at his father and Nevin, and also at the crowd from school. Oddly, he thought of Cindy and wished she was there for his greatest moment. But no, she was back at Red Velvet hustling soldiers. Nevin was right. It was time to stop seeing her.
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    Wednesday was a regular school day. The knockout artist arrived a few minutes earlier than usual. His name was in the morning’s paper and he was anticipating a pleasant day being admired by his peers. Word spread quickly and different versions of his dramatic victory were making the rounds. Keith, always with plenty to say, announced the knockout in homeroom and invited everyone to the second round of fights Thursday night. Their new hero would fight a guy named Fuzz Foster, who, according to the paper, was undefeated after eight bouts.
    The paper said no such thing. Keith was exaggerating and trying his best to whip up enthusiasm for the fight. With a nod from the teacher, Keith went on to say that, after watching at least a dozen fights the night before, he was now of the opinion that their new hero, the knockout artist, was in bad need of a catchy boxing nickname. “Hugh” just wasn’t sufficient. Therefore, it was incumbent upon them, as his