Silent Night: A Spenser Holiday Novel by Robert B. Parker Read Free Book Online

heavy bag and the other a speed bag. Some jump ropes. Some hand wraps strung over the back of a bench.
    “Okay,” I said. “Any of you do any running? Or any other exercise?” I said.
    “Naw,” Mike said. They all shook their heads. “We ride our bikes, that count?” Teddy said.
    “Sure. But boxing takes both strength and endurance, maybe more than any other sport. You have to be in good shape,” I said. “So the first thing we’re going to do today is run in place and jump some rope.”
    Carl sneered. “Jump rope’s for girls,” he said.
    Hawk looked at him. “Jump rope’s for athletes,” he said.
    I handed out the ropes. One to Teddy, one to Pedro, and one to Hawk the athlete. “Mike, you run in place with me,” I said. “We’ll try five minutes. Come on, Jackie, you up for this?” He grinned at the challenge and grabbed a jump rope.
    Five minutes later the three boys were red-faced and puffing. “You guys ain’t even breathing hard,” Mike said. “Neither’s Jackie.”
    “We’ve had a lot of practice,” I said. “If you want to box, you need to do this every day. And look, the fun part.”
    Hawk and I took the hand wraps and put them on the boys’ hands in figure eights, fitting them snugly on their small hands. Then we put mitts on them and took them over to the speed bag. “Try hitting it, any way you want, just to get the feel of it,” I said. “Take turns.”
    “You box?” I said to Jackie.
    “A little,” he said. “But I can mix it up with them anytime. Today’s for the professionals to show their stuff.”
    The kids had stepped up to the speed bag one by one, and flailed away, missing it most of the time, laughing and jabbing one another in the ribs, and dancing around the bag. Carl watched. He had put on wraps. He went over, picked up a pair of old leather boxing gloves, and went to the heavy bag. He stepped up to it and whacked it like an amateur, but with some strength. I held the bag for him. He went at it again.
    “Good,” I said. “Next we’ll work on your footwork.”
    “Don’t need to,” Carl said. He was starting to breathe heavily. “Footwork’s fine.”
    I pushed the heavy bag slightly, and Carl’s next punch hit the side and brushed off. His momentum carried him forward, and he tripped. He staggered through the punch and stumbled to the floor.
    The others kids stopped and stared at him. Pedro and Mike stifled laughs in their gloves.
    “Hey!” Carl said. “That’s not fair. You tricked me.”
    “You don’t have to worry about footwork if you’re hitting something that’s stationary,” I said. “Problem with people is they tend to move. If you’re going to box something that has feet, you’ve got to have good footwork.”
    I put my hand down to help him up. He pushed my hand away and pulled himself to his feet.
    “Okay,” I said. “Let’s try it again. This time I promise I won’t move the bag. We’ll work on footwork next time.”
    Carl ripped into the bag with a sullen fury. After a few punches his pace slowed, and in less than a minute he was spent.
    Hawk and I worked with the other three kids for the next half-hour. When they finished, the boys piled the equipment back into the boxes.
    Pedro said, “Will you return and teach us some more?”
    We nodded.
    “In the meantime,” I said, “take good care of that equipment. It’s yours now.”
    The boys and Jackie beamed. “Say thank you to Mr. Spenser and Hawk, boys. That’s very generous of them.”
    The boys responded with a uniform singsong chorus of thanks. Even Carl managed a grudging “Thanks, man.”
    Jackie smiled, then turned to the boys. “When you are boxing, boys, your hands are your weapons. You need to know how to use them, and when. Mastering any weapon is about discipline and control. That’s it for today. You guys go get something to eat,” Jackie said.
    The boys bolted in the direction of the kitchen. Carl’s elbows put him in the lead.
    “Sorry about Carl,”