KAUFMAN FIGHTER’S LIFE Ep. 1.2 The Deair Shaw Story

Fighter profile of Deair Shaw by

KAUFMAN presents FIGHTER’S LIFE

Episode 1.2 The Deair Shaw Story

…Vernita Perkins: And here you are, a professional fighter, the gang life seemingly in your rearview. What changed?

Deair Shaw: *smiles sincerely* It wasn’t a what, Vernita. It was a who. *Deair displays twinkle in his eye*

VP: Ok Ok *wags her finger at Deair slyly* I recognize that look. Boy, now you got Vernita interested…spill the beans!

*We are back to the familiar alley where all the turning points in life just seem to occur. Everything looks the same. Same trash, same shit smell, same dim lighting, same metal bin. It’s as if nothing has changed, except time. At one end of the alley, the footsteps and dissonance of belligerent youths is heard. It is Deair and his crew. Same as a few years back, only further into the throes of puberty. They strut along, punting anything in their path. On the other side of the alley, walking toward them, are two teenage girls. One is especially radiant. Emitting a certain…glow. As they prepare to meet in the middle, members of Deair’s posse start to get riled up, sensing prey approaching*

Thug 1: Hey girl, why don’t you smile. C’mon baby smile for daddy.

Thug 2: Where you goin? What, you don’t wanna come hang out? I could think of plenty of fun things we could all do together.

*Deair’s crew erupts with laughter and exchanges congratulatory fist bumps at the “wisecrack.” Deair reluctantly joins the banter. The teenage girls, suddenly scared and uncertain, focus their gazes down trying to avoid eye contact. They attempt to squeeze past the group, but one of Deair’s peers gets directly in front of them and blocks their way. He takes a few steps forward, into the girl with the special aura. She stumbles back against the wall. The thug places the palm of his outstretched arm against the wall so that his wrist passes just near the girl’s ear and gets in her face. The girl tries to shrinks lower and squirms to avoid being directly in front of him. Tears stream down her face*

Thug 3: Listen, bitch, you either start playin nice or we can do this a different way. Either way, we gettin somethin tonight.

*The gang hoots and hollers in the background. Deair looks at the young girl against the wall crying, then to her friend who is also now quietly sobbing and shakes his head slowly. His boys are too engaged in their abuse to notice the look of consternation that unexpectedly, even for himself, crosses his face. The invisible stone mask he had been wearing for his entire conscious life seemed to fall to the ground and shatter. An unfamiliar tightness gripped Deair’s stomach and then his chest*

Thug 4: Look what I got!

*Thug 4 pulls a Velcro wallet out from the other girl’s purse, which she had hanging around her shoulder. He holds up the wallet proudly. The girl tries to grab at her wallet. But the thug moves his hand quickly taunting the teenage girl in the process*

DS: ENOUGH! *All the thugs turn to him* That’s it. We done with these bitches. Why fuckin you with em anyways. This girl *points to the girl against the wall* lives in the neighborhood.

Thug 4: Yo Savage, you betta slow your roll there. We know you tough, but you don’t call the shots.

*Thug 4 begins to open the wallet, the loud CRUUUUNCH of the Velcro’s undoing amplified by the tension in the air. Before Thug 4 could open the wallet, Deair grabs the wallet out of Thug 4’s hand with lightening speed. So fast that Thug 4 is left looking at his empty, outstretched hand. The thug looks at his hand and then at Deair. His eyes fill with rage and his outstretched hand clenches into a fist. Thug 5, the apparent shot-caller, intervenes*

Thug 5: Nah Nah, *To Deair* Joker is right, these hos on our turf. They gonna get taxed like everyone else.

*Thug 5 prods a few thugs out of his way and confidently saunters over to the girl still trembling against the wall. He put his index and middle finger under her chin and lifts up her face. Two teary, mascara-stained eyes stare back at him petrified. He runs his hand down the girl’s cheek*

Thug 5: Don’t you worry, girl, we’ll take gooood care of you. Why don’t you give me a kiss and we could forget about this whole mix-up, huh? Seeing as how you and your girl have been so rude to us and all.

*Thug 5 puckers his lips and moves in for a kiss. The girl tries to turn her head to avoid the thug’s advance. She does not need to, however. Before the thug’s mouth could reach hers, it is met by the unforgiving right cross of Deair “King” Shaw!*

POW!

Thugs: WTF?!?

*Deair steps in front of the girl, between her and slept thug on the ground, shielding her with his freakishly wide frame. The thugs converge. Deair lurches forward, head down, throwing wild haymakers. It’s not pretty…or technical, but doggonit, it’s effective. With each punch, thugs are thrown back and off to the sides until Deair stands alone at the center of the alley with thugs out cold or barely recovering all around him. The two girls stand hugging each other against the wall. Moments before Deair dispatches the last two thugs, a car speeds into the alley and makes a screeching halt in front of the group, the headlights illuminating the entire scene. Two athletically built men run to where the scuffle is ensuing. They reach it just as Deair throws his final punch. One of the men swiftly grabs Deair’s arm as he is pulling it back from the punch. The youth struggles for a second, but the man is able to skillfully maneuver the arm behind Deair’s back and slam him face-first against the brick wall. One of the girls jumps forward and grabs the man’s arm*       

Girl: Daddy, no! He helped us. He saved us from them!!

*The man stares at the girl stunned for a second. It takes him a second to snap out of fight mode. “Oh!” he exclaims, wide-eyed, before slowly releases his grip on Deairs arm and swinging him around until they are facing each other. The man firm grabs Deair’s collar with one hand*

Man: This guy?! *roughly poking Deair in the chest* This guy helped you? 

Girl: Yes, daddy, I’m telling you. His friends started messing with us and he…*Looks up at her father* he stood up for us. He fought them…he fought ALL of them.

Man: *To Deair* You know, maybe I had you all wrong, son. *stretches out his hand…Deair shakes it* my name is Jackson Williams, I train and manage a few fighters at the gym down the street. No one big…yet. I’ve seen you around here, mostly causing trouble. By the looks of it, you can fight. Why don’t you come down to the gym and we’ll try you out. It’s the least I can do for you *puts his arm around his daughter’s shoulder* watching out for my little girl.

*The girl steps forward from under her father’s arm towards Deair. She looks down at her feet and then up at him smiling shyly. The girl reaches out and takes one of Deair’s meaty hands in hers. Their eyes meet. Deair isn’t sure what is going on. He feels light-headed and nauseous. In a good way, if that’s possible. His stomach suddenly feels like it is full of butterflies and they are all singing harmoniously. Fireworks explode inside him. The girl’s hand feels warm and comforting. Like home.*

Girl: *looking right into Deairs eyes* Thank you for helping us. My name’s Lucy.

To be continued…

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