The Ice Box

A woman's underground fight during the off season

One of my favorite short stories or "quickies" in Diana's library were the stories by Ice Cold Alphaman. In honor of the author, I'd thought I would write one of my own tales in that fashion.

The facility called the Ice Box in north Minnesota was not given that title because of the winters of that state. The place was actually an underground basement of a large building on the outskirts of town. The business that operated in that building had closed many years ago; so except for a small amount paid to the electric company to turn on the lights and a few facilities by an anonymous owner, nothing was done about the heat. Being underground, it wasn't too cold in the winter, but it wasn't too cold in the summer either. So it was not an unusual sight for the spectators to wear blankets and coats in the middle of June.

The large basement was painted white, matching the white tiled floor, which seemed to glow, even when the lights were turned off. A large spot in the center was covered by firm, white mats, similar to what was used in gymnastic competitions. In the center of that was an octagon made by large burlap sacks of wheat, flour, etc., stacked five high. The Ice Box was one of the facilities that belonged to the Female Fight Club, a loosely organized underground organization where women from all backgrounds and fighting styles meet to compete and utilize their combat skills. Though the Ice Box was well-attended, its existence and that of the Female Fight Club (FFC) subsisted in the area between rumor and urban legend to most local residents, authorities included. And that suited the owners of the Ice Box fine, because that meant no feds will come by looking for a myth.

On this day (or evening; at the Ice Box, with no windows, there's no way of knowing without a watch), the two contestants chosen for this match were about as different as night and day.

Brenda was one of the veterans of the Ice Box. A factory worker by day, she stood 5'9", and had broad shoulders and shoulder length blond hair. A favorite, she had supplemented her standard salary by participating in the fights at the Ice Box, and other FFC facilities. Brenda's fighting style was basic street fighting; her finishing move was to corner or trap her foe, and just pound away until a submission was heard or unconsciousness took them away. This made her popular with the crowd, especially those who liked to see blood. Her latest claim to fame was the dismantling of a woman who claimed to be a second-degree black belt in karate, and had a few titles in karate competitions. The match lasted twenty seconds before the referee stopped it. When the horn sounded, Brenda rushed forward and fired a right cross followed by a left jab. As the other fighter fell to the ground, Brenda mounted her and hammered away.

"This ain't no dojo!" She yelled as the referee raised her hand in victory.

Dressed in blue sweatpants, a hooded red sweatshirt, fingerless gloves, and cross trainers, she looked with distaste at her opponent standing across from her.

Naoki stood 5'5", wore a yellow one-piece swimsuit, and was barefoot. She had shoulder length brown hair, a pleasantly attractive face, and displayed the typical sumo wrestler's build: large legs, solid core, broad shoulders, and probably much heavier than she looked. The Japanese-American had been rather successful in the sumo wrestling lightweight ranks; and unknown to Brenda, the customer-service representative and part-time college student always attended the fight clubs in the off season to keep her skills sharp. The extra money didn't hurt either. It was after her last bout the FFC site manager recommended the Ice Box, and the opponent she was now facing.

Brenda had heard about women's sumo, but she didn't know much more than the sports' main objective and the quote she heard about the wrestlers: the heavyweights were known for their power, and the middleweights were known for their skill, but the lightweights were known for their ferocity. Looking again at Naoki, Brenda figured she looked ferocious all right, ferocious as a poodle, but I'm a Rotweiler. If she beat her to a pulp quickly, she could get home early, or maybe stop and get something. And aren't sumo wrestlers supposed to be fat? She seemed to look more like a gymnast or swimmer than a wrestler of any kind. As she was pulling on her fingerless gloves, Brenda decided to try an intimidating stare.

When Naoki looked up, she saw Brenda staring at her menacingly flexing her muscles. If she was affected in any way, she did not show it. Instead, she dropped into a low sumo squat that made Brenda hurt just seeing it, and started doing a few shiko moves to warm up. Shiko is a stomping exercise that starts with the sumo wrestler lifting one leg up sideways from the squat position, then that same leg is slammed down in a stomp, shortly followed by the other leg to do the same thing. The exercise strengthens the hips and legs. Professional male sumo wrestlers are said to do about five hundred of these a day. In her personal training, Naoki does a thousand.

Never seeing this exercise before, Brenda's scowl turned to one of confusion, while Naoki performed a few more stomps, returning Brenda's stare with a neutral expression.

Finally, introductions were made, and Brenda pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing a white T-shirt that revealed her upper body. She received applause and cheers while Naoki, a stranger to the area, received polite applause and an insult from some man to go back to Japan. To Naoki, who was born in Minneapolis, it had little effect.

The rules in the Ice Box were simple. The matches were won by knockout, verbal submission, and referee stoppage if someone was getting beaten to a pulp. No bites, scratches, or shots to the eyes, breasts, or crotch were allowed. Outside of that, everything else went. Brenda glanced over at Naoki, who was still in a squat position like a yellow frog, until she shifted to a standard sumo crouch, the same impassive eyes still focused on Brenda.

Then the horn sounded, a boat horn that's been known to startle new fighters half to death with its blaring sound. Naoki launched from her squat, running toward Brenda. Brenda planned to use her standard response to chargers, a right jab directly in the face. However, at the last minute, Naoki dropped low, slamming her shoulder into Brenda's stomach. At the same time, she wrapped an arm around both of Brenda's thighs and jerked them up when she hit.

As a result, Brenda felt like a sledgehammer hit her stomach. On top of that, she found herself staring at the ceiling, which was about as white as the rest of the basement. Short of breath, Brenda forced herself up, only to be struck back down by a blow to the forehead, courtesy of a palm heel blow from the left hand of Naoki. For both the shoulder blow and the palm strike, she was thankful that those hours of Teppo exercises paid off. Teppo was a sumo pushing exercise where a sumo wrestler faced a large wooden pole and struck it with the palms of their hands.

Naoki quickly grabbed Brenda's left wrist and stood up, extending her arm. She planted the toes of her right foot around the arms' socket. And then with a voice that you would normally hear giving advice on how to deal with a stubborn appliance, she asked Brenda, "Do you submit?"

Brenda retaliated with venom. "No, you little runt, I'm not going to submit! And when I get up, I'm going to cave in that pretty face of yours. Your own mom won't recognize you when I ' aaah!"

A twist of the wrist made Brenda cry out. Naoki maintained the lock with one hand while she probed the arm with the other.

"What are you doing?" Grunted Brenda as she struggled to get up.

"You should have submitted. I only offer mercy once," Naoki said as she grabbed the arm with both hands and gave a sudden jerk.

Brenda screamed as the pain hit her and she realized her arm was now dislocated. Naoki dropped the arm, and flipped Brenda on her stomach. She sat on her back, grabbed her head and her neck, and pulled backwards, forming a combination Camel Clutch and Rear Naked Choke. As Brenda was seconds away from unconsciousness, Naoki asked in Brenda's ear, "Submit?"

Brenda managed to gurgle a yes, while slapping the mat frantically with her good hand. The referee confirmed the submission, and Naoki released her and walked back to her dressing room, while the audience applauded wildly. Later, as she counted her prize money, she pondered that there were still a few more weeks before the sumo-wrestling season started. That would give her some time to check out other Female Fight Clubs and other underground fight clubs in the state and beyond. The competition in the immediate area was becoming much too easy lately.

For comments, suggestions, or story ideas, send an email to shrewsberry@juno.com.

#2008, Barefoot Heroines, Inc.