It was like a scene from a classic mob movie — or a cheesy one, depending on how you look at it. Late afternoon, somewhere in the middle of a German city, in an alleyway riddled with puddles. In that alleyway, a large group of thirteen-year-old children were gathered for a usual Friday night event: Helmut Kuhn, the best street fighter in the local middle school, taking on any challenger who dared try and take his title. The challenger in question this week: A lone little girl… Or was Meagan Chaney really a little girl? Even at the ripe age of thirteen, when womanhood was beginning to take its form over her growing figure, she could pack a punch. Quite literally. Which city was she even in? Meagan didn’t know, nor did she care. She’d learned not to care a long time ago. An army brat, her father was constantly having to relocate all over the place, mostly out of the United States: her home country. For her, life was all about survival of the fittest from the very beginning. Her daddy taught her the basics of combat fighting. He couldn’t be around enough to teach her everything he knew, but he did soon realize that she had a natural calling for hand-to-hand. From then on, while he was gone, he had his daughter admitted in any and all after-school fighting clubs that would take her in. From place to place, they stayed long enough for Meagan to learn a few new things and hone her skills. Her favorite style was between mixed martial arts and kick boxing.
Meagan stood right in front of a large puddle in the alley. Her bright blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she wore a black long sleeve and workout leggings with regular tennis shoes. A new acquaintance from school was standing next to her. His name was Dennis, and he would serve as her corner for this fight. He had also bet on this fight. If she were to win, they would split the proceeds fifty-fifty. “We’ve got big money on this one,” Dennis said in German, speaking into Meagan’s ear so that the opposition couldn’t hear. They were less than ten feet away, a handful of kids on either side of Helmut Kuhn, hyping him up. Meagan kept her eyes trained on Helmut – sizing him up, as it were. He was quite a large boy – not by height or muscle as much as by width. She didn’t question the boy’s strength, but she anticipated that he would be slower in his movements. She had to take advantage of that. He stood there, still as a statue, and stared back at her with eyes that were cold and mean, while everyone chanted around him. Funny, this would be her first “real deal” fight she had ever been in. Sure, she’d had had her run-ins with bullies in school, where she defended herself well enough, but she always had to be careful not to get herself expelled, and had no real opportunity to demonstrate the damage she was very capable of causing. Other than that, sparing partners were the only ones she’d ever hit. Now, though, she finally did have her opportunity. Half the school was in attendance and would witness it all. No doubt they’d be talking about it the next morning in class.
“Hellloooo!” Dennis exclaimed, again in German, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She merely glanced his way and gave a curt nod. He sighed, a resigned look on his face, giving her a single pat on the back.
And that was it. Somewhere, a bell rang, and the fight was on. Helmut was instantly rushing her: an unexpected move so early on. She didn’t have time to react, as the big German boy’s meaty fist was already flying toward her.
Meagan was hit on her right cheek, the blow knocking her down into the puddle. The water was a cold shock that sent her right back up to her feet. As she regained her balance, she watched Helmut celebrating early: His back to her, he was high-fiving members of the audience.
Okay, she told herself in her head. She did that a lot: spoke to herself from her own brain. Lesson # 1: Never underestimate your opponent.
She approached the battle area as big Helmut turned around and noticed her presence. They circled each other slowly. Meagan decided she’d wait for him to strike again, which surely wouldn’t take long. Her estimation was correct. It only took a few seconds for fatboy to launch himself at her again. This time, the young, fit lady-woman was ready for the attack. She ducked and stepped to the left. Swinging wide, the punch missed her, and left a big opening on Helmut’s right side. She went to work, giving him combination body shots: left, right, left, left, and then a big right uppercut to the sternum. Helmut stumbled back, making a desperate attempt to cover himself up while he gasped for air. Meagan wasted no time. Now she ran at him, leaped into the air, spun around, and stuck her leg out, rotating her ankle just so that her heel would catch Helmut’s jaw. When it landed, blood shot from Helmut’s mouth, as he went down like a sack of potatoes and landed hard on his side on the pavement. A resounding gasp came from the entire group of kids watching, and then a stunned silence grew over them.
Excitement urged Meagan forward, and she rushed up to her opponent. She kneeled in front of him and began to give him what would later be known as “ground and pound,” punching him directly and repeatedly in the head and face until he went limp and could no longer hold his arms up in defense. Once that happened, several students quickly intervened and broke up the fight. One of them suddenly lifted her arm up, and an uproar erupted from the entire crowd.
What a rush!
Dennis appeared then, taking her by the elbow and escorting her over to the fellow student with whom he had made his bet. He had the widest grin on his face. “Du hast es geschafft!” He screamed. “You did it!”
After collecting her money, Meagan and Dennis walked off, her arm around Dennis’s shoulders, and her mind now on buying a nice gift for her mother dear.