Turn 135 of 226

Meet in the finals. Draw again. The prize money is split between the both of us. Both of us start growing together at the same rate

The bracket narrows the way brackets narrow — the math that is subtraction, the 40,768 becoming 20,384 becoming 10,192 becoming the thing that is the pool shrinking. The body clears the early rounds the way the body clears early rounds. The opponents are the same opponents — the fighters who are large but not the body's large, the fighters who are skilled but not the body's skill. The body finishes them. Diane finishes hers. The body does not watch Diane's fights. Diane does not watch the body's fights. The watching is the thing that is for later. The bracket puts them on opposite sides — the body in the top half, Diane in the bottom, the path that converges at the final.

The semifinals are the thing that tests them. The body's semifinal opponent is a fighter the body has not seen — a woman who is 6'10" and 380 pounds, a woman who moves like a kickboxer, a woman whose teep is the thing that keeps the body at range for two rounds before the body finds the timing and the timing is the thing that puts the overhand on the jaw. Diane's semifinal is the thing the body hears — the crowd sound, the impact sound, the silence that means the finish. Diane walks back to the staging area. Diane's face is marked — the swelling under the left eye, the blood from the nose. The body's ribs ache from the teep. The bodies look at each other across the staging area. The looking is the thing that does not need words.

The final is the thing the warehouse built. The ring is the same ring — the raised platform, the concrete floor, the crowd that is the thing that fills the warehouse space. The crowd is different. The crowd is the thing that knows. The crowd has seen the body clear four brackets. The crowd has not seen Diane. The crowd does not know that Diane is the body. The body steps into the ring. Diane steps into the ring. The stepping in is the thing that is the mirror — the same height, the same weight, the same stance, the same calloused hands hanging at the same sides. The crowd goes quiet. The quiet is the thing that is the recognition — the recognition that the two fighters in the ring are the same fighter twice.

The fight is the thing the warehouse already held. The body throws the jab and Diane slips the jab and the slipping is the thing the body taught and the thing Diane made her own. Diane throws the jab and the body slips and the slipping is the mirror. The combinations come — the same combinations, the same chains, the same nine-hit sequences thrown by two bodies that learned the sequences from the same floor. The ring fills with the sound of the impacts. The impacts are the things that are equal — every shot matched, every angle countered, every takedown defended. The body shoots the double-leg and Diane sprawls and the sprawl holds. Diane shoots and the body sprawls and the sprawl holds. The bodies trade on the feet. The bodies trade on the ground. The bodies bleed the same blood and grin the same grin.

The rounds pass. The passing is the thing that is the clock — the clock that is the thing neither body can beat. The fifteenth round comes. The bodies are standing because standing is the thing the bodies do. The bodies are throwing because throwing is the thing the bodies do. The bodies are not finishing because finishing is the thing the bodies cannot do to each other. The bell rings. The ringing is the thing that ends the fight. The referee steps between them. The step is the thing that is the decision the referee does not want to make. The referee looks at the two bodies. The bodies are the same. The bodies are marked the same — the same swelling, the same blood, the same exhaustion that is not exhaustion but depletion. The referee raises both hands. The raising is the thing that is the draw. The crowd does not cheer. The crowd does not boo. The crowd is the thing that is silent because the silence is the only response to the thing the crowd saw.

The prize is the thing that is split. The $800,000 is the thing that becomes $400,000 each. The bodies leave the ring together. The leaving is the thing that is the bodies walking side by side — the same limp, the same arms hanging, the same blood drying on the same faces. Cal is at the edge of the ring. Cal does not speak. Cal hands the body the envelope and hands Diane the envelope and the envelopes are the same weight. The bodies walk out of the warehouse. The walking is the thing that is the industrial district at night. The bodies walk home. The home is the warehouse. The bodies stand on the scale. The scale reads 1,040. The bodies stand at the wall. The tape reads 9'0". The numbers are the same. The numbers have been the same for ninety days. The numbers are the thing that changes the next morning.

The morning is the thing the body feels before the body sees. The feeling is the thing in the skin — the stretching, the warmth, the thing that is the wish's warmth. The warmth that the body has not felt in ninety days. The warmth that is back. The body stands on the scale. The scale reads 1,052. The body stands at the wall. The tape reads 9'1". The numbers have moved. The body looks at Diane. Diane is standing at the wall. Diane's mark is the thing that is higher. The tape reads 9'1". Diane's scale reads 1,052. The wish is the thing that is moving again. The wish is the thing that is moving both. The wish is the thing that is not done.