THE WOMAN BOXER
By Mr. Morgan P. McCarthy
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the famous Brown County Arena,” said the ring announcer. “On tonight’s card we have a special women’s boxing match for you good fans here in Green Bay.” Then he went on to say, “In this corner, dressed in a gold top and gold trunks and gold tights and gold sneakers, and standing five feet eight inches and weighing one hundred twenty pounds, and hailing from De Pere, Wisconsin, and with a record of twenty-five wins and zero losses, loved by all as ‘the Ultimate Woman,’ and preferring her self-given title, ‘the American Woman,’ I present to you, ‘Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.’” And the crowd roared its delight and great favor for this woman boxer. And this woman boxer, humble and self-effacing, began to say, “To God be the glory!” many times over. Even Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir’s boxing gloves were golden. As her many fans cheered out “Ultimate Woman! Ultimate woman! Ultimate Woman!” this woman boxer deferred her honors thus and said back meekly a much more humble, “I’m just the ‘American Woman,’” giving praise to God and country instead.
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This woman boxer was a born-again Christian.
Then the ring announcer resumed his introductions, saying, “And in this corner, dressed in a black top and black trunks, standing six feet and weighing one hundred seventy-five pounds, and hailing from Athens, Greece, with a record of twenty-five wins and twenty-five losses, I present to you the self-proclaimed, ‘Greek Goddess’—the ladies’ champion of the country of Greece—’Lady Cyclops.’” And the crowd turned belligerent. Catcalls and boos thundered upon Lady Cyclops from all directions within the arena: “We hate you!” and ‘Geek Goddess!’” and “Cyclops have only one eye!” and “You cheat like a cheetah!” In fury Lady Cyclops shook her gloved fists right back at the crowd—first her right, then her left. Then she turned back to the crowd favorite—Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir—and she spat a spit toward her from across the ring that nearly reached her. And the boos became a deafening din at the antagonist.
Wanting revenge upon Jenny for the booing of the crowd here before the bell rang, Lady Cyclops turned to trash talk the Christian lady, saying to her, “Little woman, I am cyclopean. I am big. I am strong. I pack a wallop!”
Calm in the Lord and standing her ground, Miss Gilt-of-Ophir said cogently, “My God packs a bigger wallop. And Him I serve and obey.”
Provoked beyond her low tolerance for challenges, Lady Cyclops blew up and yelled, “Come here to my face and tell me that, little girl!”
“Remember David and Goliath, O Lady Cyclops,” said Jenny, standing her ground firmly.
Laughing hysterically, Lady Cyclops said, “Little dame, do you know what I have in my boxing gloves just for you? I’ve got nuts and bolts inside my gloves, and there is nothing that you can do about that. Ha!”
“Nuts and bolts do not hurt so bad as the judging hand of God,” said Jenny, confident and ready.
“Why, I am going to knock you into the next day, little wench!” yelled Lady Cyclops.
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Waxing Biblical, Miss Gilt-of-Ophir said, “No one of us has a promise of another day.”
Having lost this war of trash talk, Lady Cyclops marched right up to Jenny where she stood and swung a wild roundhouse toward her face before the bell even rang. With the adroitness of an unbeaten boxer, Miss Gilt-of-Ophir stepped back out of the way of this punch easily. Thereby powerful Lady Cyclops betrayed her clumsiness and slowness and awkwardness of punch, and Jenny showed her dexterity and professionalism and superiority of footwork. The crowd threw bottles into the ring.
Then the bell rang. And Jenny went on to execute her trainer’s strategy for her to use against this powerful woman boxer from Greece. He told her, “Let the Greek champion wear herself out.”
And that she did. Lady Cyclops swung wild roundhouse lefts and roundhouse rights with all her strength. If one of them were to connect, Jenny could be stunned. But Jenny agilely darted, feinted, weaved, bobbed, and danced about on her feet, eluding every last punch thrown by this powerful woman for the whole first round. And after one round, the whole arena saw that their hated boxer had only struck air with her gloves. And though their beloved woman boxer had not thrown one punch yet, they saw her skip up to her corner after the bell and stand there strong and sure and confident. And they saw the brute of a woman huffing and puffing and sweating from her much futile boxing, and she fell upon the stool in her corner in fatigue. In Jenny’s corner, her trainer said, “In round two keep up the same strategy as in round one.”
And the bell rang for round two. And Jenny executed this same strategy with alacrity. Again the strong lady from Greece threw wild roundhouses all over toward the head of Jenny, but every last one of her gloves only hit air. None connected anywhere upon Jenny. And by the end of round two, Lady Cyclops’s knees were about to buckle from underneath herself, and she had not been hit by any glove yet by Miss Gilt-of-Ophir. Jenny hopped to her corner and stood, fresh and energetic. And Lady Cyclops slumped upon her stool in her corner, all fight taken out of her now. Jenny praised and thanked God and prayed that she do her Lord’s will in round three. Lady Cyclops cursed God and
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goodness. The Greek Goddess was exhausted and could no longer raise her gloves at the end of her arms. And Jenny’s trainer then told the popular woman boxer, “Now go after her and take her down, Jenny.”
“The old one-two?’ she asked him.
“Yes. The old one-two,” her trainer said.
And the bell rang for round three. And Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir began to work over her foe with her golden gloves. First she threw a right into her belly and a left into her face. Then she threw a left into her belly and a right into her face. This went on for a short interim. And before round three was done, there upon the canvas lay the “Greek Goddess,” knocked out. After the referee counted out Lady Cyclops where she lay, he raised Jenny’s arm in victory and declared, “One minute and thirty seconds into round three, winner by knockout, Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.” The whole crowd cheered, “Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman!” Jenny stood there, beaming in accolades. And she said amid the applause, “I’m just an American woman,” But the celebration for her victory in the arena drowned out her statement. So she said, “Thank you all!” And the crowd went wild. One young man in the chairs heard her words, and he took them to heart. He was a born-again Christian like herself.
This man in the chairs was in the very first row. He had never seen something like this happen in front of him before. The lean girl beat up the muscular girl. He had seen men’s boxing before, and that was not real exciting to him. But he had never seen women’s boxing before. And it was different, titillating, fetish-like to him. Women could throw a punch, too. Women could take a punch, too.
And a woman could knock out another woman with a punch, too. It happened just now. He now became an instant and devoted fan of women’s prize fighting. And he had a sudden crush on this fair lady Jenny. He had never found a pretty girlfriend before. He was twenty-five years old and never had a date. He sure would be happy to go out with Miss Gilt-of-Ophir. Indeed her very wonderful and full curls of hair all about her head were like unto the “gold of Ophir,” mentioned numerous times in the
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Bible. He remembered how Jenny there up in the ring, had asked to be cheered as “the American Woman” in her resistance to any female pride in her Christian heart. A daring thought came to his man’s heart. He must ask her out and do so in a way that she might say, “Yes,” to him. He would call her by her preferred title. And as she was climbing down off of the ring apron right in front of where he sat in the first row of chairs, he called forth to her, “Oh, American Woman?”
She now stood before him. She was a couple inches taller than he. She was about as slender as he. And she still had on her boxing gloves. She asked him in gratitude, “Sir?”
“Miss Gilt-of-Ophir?” he asked.
“Jenny, kind sir,” she told him in friendship.
“Great fight, Jenny!” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
A moment passed, and the man ventured a personal introduction, to her, saying, “Flanders.”
“Flanders,” she said. “Thank you for your kindness, Flanders. I enjoyed the fight.”
“I did, too, Jenny,” he said. “I never knew about women’s boxing until today.”
“What do you think about it now after having seen what you saw here so close to the ring?” she asked.
“It is now my favorite sport to watch for now on,” he said.
“It is my favorite sport to do, Flanders,” she said.
“You’re good, Jenny. You’re real good,” he said to her. Then he asked, “When do you fight again?”
“Oh, that’s a couple weeks from now,” she said. “Do you want to see me box again, Flanders?”
“Oh. I do, Jenny. I want to see all the rest of your fights for now on,” he said.
“My next prize fight is in Madison Square Garden in New York City,” she said.
“That’s a long way away from here, at that,” he said.
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“I do lots of traveling in my career,” said the woman boxer. “I have to go all over.”
“I’ll be there, Jenny,” he promised.
“You will be my inspiration, Flanders,” she said.
“You shall never lose on me,” he vowed.
“I hope that I never disappoint you,” she said.
“You won’t. You can’t. You’re too good to lose, Jenny,” he said.
“I can lose just as I can win,” she said in meekness.
“Someday we must get together and have you work me over this time,” he said, full of fetish.
“No. No. I could never hurt you, Flanders,” she said.
“You’re sexy,” he said. “How a man like me would like to get into the ring against a woman like you.”
“No. No. I could never do such a thing,” she objected.
“Ah, what magic,” he said. “It will be the most unforgettable thing we have ever done.”
Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir now had a problem in her personal life. She had found a crush on a strange man. And his affection for her looked to depend upon her never losing a fight. And now this same fellow wanted to go and box with her to satisfy his strange urges. And she could not bring herself to hit him, her affection for him great and growing. If she did knock him out, how could she feel any more appreciation for him as a boyfriend?
With all this happening, Flanders Nickels asked, “Would you want to get together sometime with women’s boxing’s brand new fan at his picnic table at his park, Jenny, for fellowship?”
“With just any fan, no. But with my best fan, yes,” said the woman boxer, her heart smitten by this fellow. This Flanders was cute—real cute. And now he sounded to be a Christian, like herself.
She then asked her trainer to give Flanders her card, and he gave it to him, and Flanders said, “Thank you. Thank you.” And they parted till next time.
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The next day, in his time alone with God at the park, Flanders had his great big concordance with him with his Holy Bible. He was praying to God with his thoughts upon the woman boxer’s pretty name. It was “Miss Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.” He remembered much upon the “gold of Ophir” mentioned many times in the Bible. And with a crush on Miss Gilt-of-Ophir, Flanders looked up “Ophir” in the big concordance and read all the Bible verses in the Bible of each of the references listed therein. There were twelve of them, and these were the following: I) “And Ophir, and Havilah, and Jobab: all these were the sons of Joktan.” Genesis 10:29. II) “And they came to Ophir, and fetched from thence gold, four hundred and twenty talents, and brought it to king Solomon.” I Kings 9:28, III) “And the navy also of Hiram, that brought gold from Ophir, brought in from Ophir great plenty of almug trees, and precious stones.” I Kings 10:11. IV) “Jehoshaphat made ships of Tharshish to go to Ophir for gold: but they went not; for the ships were broken at Eziongeber.” I Kings 22:48. V) “And Ophir, and Havilah, and Jobab. All these were the sons of Joktan.” I Chronicles 1:23. VI) “Even three thousand talents of gold, of the gold of Ophir, and seven thousand talents of refined silver, to overlay the walls of the houses withal:” I Chronicles 29:4. VII) “And Huram sent him by the hands of his servants ships, and servants that had knowledge of the sea; and they went with the servants of Solomon to Ophir, and took from thence four hundred and fifty talents of gold, and brought them to king Solomon.” II Chronicles 8:18. VIII) “And the servants also of Huram, and the servants of Solomon, which brought gold from Ophir, brought algum trees and precious stones.” II Chronicles 9:10. IX) “Then shalt thou lay up gold as dust, and the gold of Ophir as the stones of the brooks.” Job 22:24. X) “It cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire.” Job 28:16. XI) “Kings’ daughters were among thy honourable women: upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.” Psalm 45:9. XII) “I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir.” Isaiah 13:12.
Having finished this part of his Bible study, he said to himself about his woman boxer indeed,
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“Her hair is like unto the gold of Ophir.”
Then, full of infatuation for Jenny, Flanders spontaneously got up from his worship at this park, and he pursued a brave new thing in his life. And when he was done, there they were, a brand new pair of gold-colored boxing gloves just for himself, which he was purchasing at the mall. There. Now he could pretend to be his woman boxer Miss Gilt-of-Ophir. And he came home hurriedly and put them on, and “did box as Jenny” in the privacy of his bedroom. He was “Jenny who threw a punch.” He was “Jenny who took a punch.” He was “Jenny throwing the knockout punch.” He was “Jenny taking the knockout punch.” He was the “famous woman boxer.” And this brave new novelty was so illicit a desire that he dared not do this for long. Then he took off the gloves and put them in a special place–in his green wooden bin in a corner of his bedroom. And he spoke a hasty and impetuous declarative to the woman boxer who could not hear him now, “I love you, Jenny.”
Then he remembered the Lord. And he came to realize that he had left God behind in the park to go and run off to buy these gloves. He had completely forgotten the Lord through all of his shopping spree. He had even overlooked praying to God that God get him these golden gloves. And he had, in effect, “abandoned Christ to run away with Miss Gilt-of-Ophir.” And then of all things, he in his bedroom, had symbolically “made love with a prize fight” with her where no one could see him.
And God was no longer in all of his thoughts. Now his woman boxer was in all of his thoughts. And his new girlfriend was suddenly more important to him than was Jesus in his walk with Christ. And the Lord was now second best to him.
The born-again believer Jenny knew nothing of this. Right now she was praying to her Heavenly Father that He get the glory in her personal life, in her public life, in her next bout, and in her new romance with her new greatest fan. For the woman boxer, the Lord Jesus Christ was ever the Lord of her life. And her walk in Christ did not falter now that she had Flanders Nickels as her boyfriend.
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A few days later, the woman boxer and her admirer got together for a date at his park where he had often come to worship God in his quiet time. They talked about her career for a long time. Then they talked about his life at age twenty-five. Then they came upon fellowship in Christ, when Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir asked him how he had first found the Saviour in his life. She had to find out whether he were a true born-again believer as herself, herself ready to preach the plan of salvation to him were he to not truly be saved as he said he was. And he gave a valid and legitimate testimony of salvation. And this true tale is summarized thus:
All of his childhood he feared the children’s personage called “the bogeyman.” He heard tales from his mom that “The bogeyman’s going to get you.” And he heard tales from his dad that “The bogeyman hides under the bed.” And he heard tales from his brothers and sisters all saying to him, “The bogeyman eats little boys.” But little Flanders believed them. He often looked up the word “bogeyman” and did memorize it several times, trembling as he did so. This dictionary said this about the word “Bogeyman”: “1. A monstrous imaginary figure used in threatening children. 2. A terrifying or dreaded person or thing: bugbear.” The dictionary thus claimed his bogeyman to be imaginary. But to him his bogeyman was very real. He even had a nightmare one time about the bogeyman. In his dream, it was night time and dark. He was out in the upstairs hallway outside his bedroom with all the lights off. And a fearsome shadow man no taller than himself as a little boy was standing there in front of him, his darkness darker than the night in this hall. And he chased Flanders down the stairs. That bogeyman that he met in his bad dream was the bogeyman that he feared in his waking life of the day and the night. Well one day two good visitors from God came to the house, spreading the good news of the Gospel. They were from the little church down the road—”Third Day Baptist Church.” And the two visitors were Pastor and his wife. His name was “Pastor Honour,” and
her name was “Emmy.” Everybody in town knew them, and they were beloved in their community.
And wherever he and his wife went, they were both always welcomed into all of the homes. They
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always talked about the love of God and never feared to preach upon the fires of Hell. And Flanders and his whole family were there that day that Pastor and his wife called upon their house. It was Thursday Evening Visitation for that good Baptist church. And Pastor asked the whole family that thought-provoking and soul-convicting question, “Do you folk know where you’re going after you die?”
And Flanders trembled in visible fear and said to him, “I am going to the land of the bogeymen.”
The whole group could sense the sincere dread that little Flanders had for this bogeyman. And no one laughed at him for this. And all the family knew that their very own eternal destiny without Christ was as the doom confessed by Flanders in his own interpretation of his eternal destiny.
Pastor Honour went on to tell him, “Flanders, take comfort. In Luke 12:4-5 God says this: ‘And I say unto you my friends, Be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, which after he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell. I say unto you, Fear him.’”
“That’s the bogeyman. Isn’t it?” asked Flanders.
“No, good Flanders,” said Emmy. “It is not.”
And Pastor said, “Good Flanders, God loves little children, and God is real. The bogeyman hates little children, and the bogeyman is not real.”
Then Emmy bowed her head and silently prayed for Flanders and his whole lost family.
And Pastor went on to say in encouragement to Flanders and to his lost family, “Fear the Good Lord. For the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”
“Are there bogeymen in Hell?” asked Flanders.
“There are worse things in Hell,” said Pastor.
“Are there bogeymen in Heaven?” asked Flanders.
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“There are better things in Heaven,” said Pastor. “There are no bogeymen in Heaven.”
“Then I want to go to Heaven, Pastor Honour,” said Flanders.
“I, too,” said all the rest of the family.
And Pastor went on to preach the plan of salvation, saying to them, “Mankind are all born sinners. We sin the moment that we come into this world. As it is written in Psalm 58:3, ‘The wicked are estranged from the womb: they go astray as soon as they be born, speaking lies.’ And as it says in Psalm 51:5, ‘Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.’ But the Lord Jesus was different. He was born of the Virgin Mary, and He was conceived of the Holy Ghost. He never sinned even one time in His whole life on Earth. He was our sinless substitute Who died in our place on the cross. As He hung upon Calvary’s cross, the Lord Jesus bore all of our sins upon His body. That must have been His greatest pain of His crucifixion. Even His own Heavenly Father could not look upon Him then, the Father Who could not look upon sin. And Christ called out, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?’ And Jesus died. His work of redemption for fallen mankind was finished. And on the third day, He arose from the grave. This was the Easter miracle. This was the resurrection. Christ arose! No greater act had ever happened on Heaven and Earth. And any who place their faith in Him for salvation according to the way of God are thereby saved from their sins. What is God’s way for salvation? Confess that you are a sinner, and blame yourself for your sins.
Believe the Gospel—that Jesus bled and died for your sins and rose again from the dead. And pray to God and ask Him to save your soul, and accept this saving as by grace through faith. Ii is written in Acts 2:21, ‘And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’”
Pastor stopped this efficacious preaching and looked at his wife, “Do you think that they are ready, O Emmy?”
And Emmy said, “I believe that they are, Pastor.”
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And Pastor Honour right then led Flanders Nickels and his whole family through the sinners’
prayer line by line, lock, stock, and barrel. And the first thing that little Flanders said after praying this prayer was, “I’m not afraid of that old bogeyman anymore.” This was how Flanders Nickels had become a born-again Christian fifteen years ago at age ten.
And here at the picnic table at the park with his pretty woman boxer Flanders said, “I’m so glad that I became born again, Jenny.”
“If you think that you’re glad for being born again now in this life, Flanders, just wait till you see how glad you will be when you come Home to Heaven in the life to come,” said Miss Gilt-of-Ophir.
“Heaven is a great place to be with a girlfriend who boxes for a living,” he said.
“Seeing Jesus is better than getting into the ring,” said Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir in reproof.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Of course,” she said in rebuke.
The big day of her next bout was upon her now. Once again the lean and supple American Woman was taking on a much more powerful and taller lady prize fighter. Miss Gilt-of-Ophir, in the ring, looked for her boyfriend fan in the crowd. There he was once again in the very first row. He waved to her and cheered her with her preferred title. She waved back and smiled upon him. And the whole crowd began to chant, “Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman!” in great cheer for this beloved woman boxer. And she took it in and felt elated despite herself, and she waved her gloved hand to her arena full of fans. And the referee stepped up into the ring. And the announcer stepped up into the ring. And her trainer said to her, “Don’t turn your back on this one, Jenny. She is a real dirty fighter. She’s a regular ogress.”
Then in stepped her opponent, with ferocity in her eyes upon her. And at once this nasty woman began to heap anathema upon Jenny. She stood there and made false accusations against
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Jenny’s womanhood, against Jenny’s character, against Jenny’s face, against Jenny’s form, against Jenny’s faith, against Jenny’s boxing. Her name was “Demoness Gadarenes.” And Jenny was patient and forgiving upon hearing all of this maligning against her person. But when this maligning breached propriety and became trash talk against her Jesus, then Jenny fought back with her own rebuttal against Demoness Gadarenes.
And Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir stood there and declared, “Demoness Gadarenes, it is written in Mark 5:1-5, ‘And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when [Jesus] was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, Who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains: Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces; neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones.’”
“You dare compare me to this demon of Gadarenes?” asked Demoness Gadarenes, losing it.
“’For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he:….’ Proverbs 23:7.” quoted the Ultimate Woman a most consummate rebuttal from the Bible.
She then turned to gaze upon handsome Flanders, and she raised her right glove in confidence for today’s win. His eyes suddenly grew big, and his mouth gaped in apprehension for her. She turned around, and “BOOM!” Something like nothing that she ever felt crashed hard upward against the underside of her chin. Her lower jaw smashed up into her upper jaw. She felt her mouthpiece fall out of her mouth and she knew not where it went. Everything turned black. Or maybe more like gray. She felt her form grow stiff. And she felt herself falling back upon something. It felt like three ropes. She must still be on her feet anyway. What hit her? Her knees felt weak. Her head never felt this way before. And her hands felt heavy at the ends of her arms. This was how Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir comprehended this strange new thing that happened to her. And this was what Flanders and the whole
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crowd saw: Demoness Gadarenes had cheated and had thrown the hardest punch of her career right into Jenny’s chin with an uppercut that could knock out a guy fighter. Jenny’s head of golden curls snapped back hard. Her mouth piece flew out of her mouth and into the first row of seats. She had to be out on her feet. She then fell back against the ropes, and the ropes saved her from falling to the canvas. Her eyes were open, but there was a look of awe and confusion coming from them. She looked like she would faint any moment. Their hero did not know where she was, nor what she was doing. Then her her head fell forward, and downward, but she remained upright. And it was an illegal punch. The bell had not rung for the start of the fight yet. Never before had the boxing commission seen so flagrant a cheating. And at first they did not know what to do. And even Demoness Gadarenes felt her guilt. But she was glad, because she had hurt women’s boxing’s Ultimate Woman. The fight was suspended for the moment. Her trainer came up to Flanders, and he said, “I think Jenny needs you now, Flanders.” And Flanders stepped up into the ring and put his arms around her and helped her down upon her bottom there on the canvas. And she started to come back to.
And the whole arena in indignation yelled bloody murder at Demoness Gadarenes. And a riot was about to begin. The announcer did not know what to do. The referee did not know what to do. Demoness Gadarenes did not know what to do. She feared for her life now. Then Flanders asked his girlfriend’s trainer, “Is Jenny going to be all right?”
And the trainer said, “She will be okay,” He was Jenny’s boxing trainer, and he knew if his woman boxer was okay or not.
Then the women’s boxing commissioner stepped into the ring. And he spoke to all in Madison Square Garden, “Ladies and gentleman, Demoness Gadarenes with a record of zero wins and zero losses, and with one forfeit and with one disqualification and with one illegal assault is hereby ejected from this prize fight and is hereby given a loss. Furthermore, no more such unsportsmanlike conduct by any boxer in any prize fight will be allowed in women’s boxing. I hereby officially and
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permanently suspend Demoness Gadarenes from any further participation in women’s professional boxing. She will be fined ten thousand dollars. And she will appear before the judge in one of our courts of New York City regarding an official prison sentence.” Then he said, “I officially declare the winner of this bout to be Jennifer Gilt-of-Ophir.”
And the crowd went wild for the American Woman and her victory. And the crowd’s love for her was greater than the crowd’s hate for her cheating opponent. And this chorus of “Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman!” spared Demoness Gadarenes. The cheerers no longer felt like ambushing the cheater. And she quickly escaped the arena for her life, never to come back.
Meanwhile, Jenny was standing on the arena floor beside the ring and laughing and chatting with her boyfriend and her trainer. She was now at twenty-seven wins and zero losses. Her head hurt bad now, and her chin hurt just to talk. But she was quite fine now. Then Flanders pulled out something from his pocket. It was her mouthpiece that had fallen out. “Leave it to you, Flanders, to find that,” she said in gladness.
“It landed on the floor right in front of my feet, Jenny,” he said.
“Do you still like me?” she asked.
“I like you even more now that I did in your first fight,” he said.
“Did I get knocked out?” she asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” said Flanders.
“She got KO’ed,” said her trainer, who would know. “But it didn’t count.”
“You still won, Jenny,” praised Flanders.
“What if I got KO’ed, and it counted, and I lost?” she asked.
“That will never happen to you, Jenny. You’re the American Woman. Remember?” he said.
“Do you still want to box with me alone in private, Flanders?” she asked.
“I’m not so sure now,” he said. “This fun you have gets awful rough sometimes.” She cocked
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her golden head to the side at him. And his understanding was opened. He said now to her, “If you beat me up like that, you a woman and me a man, would you still respect me?”
And she said, “Let’s not find out.”
“Where is your next fight taking place?” he asked.
“In the MGM Grand Arena,” she said.
“Where’s that?” he asked.
“That’s in Las Vegas, Nevada,” she said.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“In the first row?” she asked.
“Definitely,” he said.
“I won’t disappoint you,” she said.
“Jenny,” he said.
“Yes, Flanders,” said the woman boxer.
“Would you let me touch your gloves?” he asked tentatively.
“I’d be glad to let you touch my gloves,” she said.
And she held out her golden boxing gloves that covered her fists before him. And he reached out both hands toward his burgeoning fetish, and he stroked them like he were petting a call girl, and he drew back his hands. He could not say any words. He could not draw away his eyes. His body surged with wantonness. All he wanted now was his woman boxer. And they parted for the day. And he pined for Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir. And on his way home he chanted by himself, “Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman! Ultimate Woman!” And he forgot God.
Their next date was at his place in the front yard on the nice green lawn, boyfriend and girlfriend both sitting comfortably face-to-face upon the short grass of summer. He had teased her and said, “Bring your gloves, or don’t come at all.” And here she was with her gilded boxing gloves resting
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upon the grass, one to each side of her. He brought his golden boxing gloves as well outside here and did have them resting upon the ground, one to each side of him, too. His golden gloves had a different shade of gold than did her golden gloves.
After they chatted a while, Jenny, seeing him distracted by her gloves, asked him, “Are they prettier than I am, Flanders?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “All three of you are spellbinding.” Then he said, “But I suppose that the rule is on this date, ‘Look, but do not touch.’”
“Oh, you can touch them again,” she said. “In fact you can put them on.”
“I can?” he said.
“Yes. But the rule is, ‘Don them, but do not punch with them,’” she said.
“I can do that,” he said. And he quickly put on the famous woman boxer’s golden gloves.
And she went ahead and put on his golden gloves.
She knocked his gloves together on her hands just exactly as boxers do. He did the same with her gloves on his hands.
“This is the most fun I had ever in my fun life, Jenny,” he said.
They chatted more. Then she said, “We have not talked about Jesus yet on this date, Flanders.”
“Oh. That. Yeah,” he said. He then threw a punch into the air at nothing. Then he suddenly knew what he just did after his promise.
“Flanders, you promised,” the woman boxer confronted him.
“I forgot,” he said. “I was only pretending.”
“What book are you reading in the Bible these days?” asked Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.
“Oh, not so much,” he said ambivalently.
“I’m in the book of the Song of Solomon in my Bible,” she said. “That’s even better than Shakespeare’s sonnets.”
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“I’m not in any book of the Bible nowadays,” he said.
“You’re not?” cried out the born-again Christian lady.
“But that’s all right, Jenny. I’ve got you as my girlfriend,” he said.
“You’re not reading the Holy Bible, Flanders?” she asked.
“Well…no,” he said, surprised at her reaction.
“Didn’t you used to read your Bible every day?” she asked.
“Well…yeah,” he said. “Jenny, we have each other now.”
“I have caused a son of God to became a prodigal son,” she cried out.
“Someday woman, you and I, one on one, in the ring,” he fantasized out loud. Then he said a comical, “Be there, or be square.”
“Flanders, this is no laughing matter,” said Miss Gilt-of-Ophir.
“I have found something better than the Holy Bible,” he said. And he raised her boxing gloves upon his fists triumphantly in the air before his girlfriend in indication.
She turned away. And she went ahead to take off his gloves from her hands. And she threw them upon the grass in rejection.
“Hey, girl. Those are mine. Treat them with reverence,” he said to her.
“’…: holy and reverend is his name,’ Psalm 111:9, O Flanders,” she said.
“Yeah?” he said, his feelings hurt.
“I choose to reverence my Lord in my walk with Christ,” she said. “I choose not to reverence the gloves with which I make my living.”
“You and I are different,” he said.
“Tell me this, Flanders,” she said. “Have you prayed to God yet today?”
“Not yet. But…,” he said.
“Promise me that you will come to the Lord in prayer later on today,” said Jenny.
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“Why should I do that today?” he asked. “I did not do that any yesterday.”
“You went a whole day in your Christian walk without once praying to your Heavenly Father?” she asked in dismay.
“I don’t need to pray everyday now, Jenny,” he said. “I’ve got the Ultimate Woman now.”
“The ‘American Woman,’ Flanders,” rebuked the woman boxer in correction.
“You are like a goddess to me now, Jenny,” he thought to flatter his woman boxer.
“Woe! Am I become a false god to you, Flanders?” she cried out.
In seeking conciliation he sought to flatter her and said, “I had God before. And I have you now.”
In Scriptural chastisement, Miss Gilt-of-Ophir said to him, “Flanders, God says, ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’ Exodus 20:3. And God says, ‘Thou shalt have none other gods before me.’ Deuteronomy 5:7.”
“What’s wrong with me having a woman boxer for a girlfriend?” he asked.
“I ask you to take them off,” she said. He looked at the famous Ultimate Woman’s golden gloves on his hands. “Take them off right now, Flanders. Please,” she said.
“This sounds like we’re having a fight,” he said. “You’re yelling. I’m yelling.”
“Just…take them off,” she said, firmly.
And he gave in to her, and he took off her gloves from his hands. He refused to throw them upon the ground. Instead he set them adoringly and meticulously upon the grass in front of him. And then he said a terse, “There. That’s that. Now what?”
“I must come before God and ask Him to forgive me for what I let happen to a true man of God,” she said.
“What is it that happened?” asked Flanders.
“I tempted you into backsliding,” she said remorsefully. “And I never knew. Until now.”
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“I a backslider?” he asked, taken aback and thinking upon her words.
Having said what she said, the Christian woman boxer then said, “We have to stop seeing each other for a while, Flanders. We both have to get away and get right with Jesus. And we must go on and get back to making Jesus the Lord of our lives.”
Knowing the sincerity of her stand for Christ, Flanders asked, “Will I see you again, Jenny?”
And she replied an ambivalent, “I’ll write to you, Flanders.” Then the woman boxer got up, gathered up her gloves in her hands, and left, her Holy Bible still in her purse.
Flanders was alone now. He saw his own gloves still upon the green grass. And he gave them each a vicious kick, sending them flying, first one, then the other. And he went into his house. And he had a short word of prayer and a short little Bible-reading. And the gloves were left behind out in the front yard.
A few days later, Flanders Nickels got a letter in the mail from Jenny. And it was the testimony of her salvation. In it she told all that happened that led to her becoming a born-again believer. This paragraph tells the tale in the letter in third person narrative: It happened for her fifteen years ago. She was a little ten-year-old girl. And Grandma and Aunt Glad had a great and godly influence upon her life. Grandma was Mom’s mom. And Aunt Glad was Mom’s aunt. Technically Glad was Jenny’s great-aunt, but she and all of her brothers and sisters always called her “Aunt Glad.” And until recently Jenny had not known that Grandma and Aunt Glad were sisters. Being the granddaughter and great-niece, Jenny had never stopped to wonder upon that. About where Grandma and Aunt Glad stood in the Lord, sufficient to say, Jenny saw Grandma as godly; and Aunt Glad as saintly. And at the dinner table Grandma always said for grace, “God is good. And God is great.” And Aunt Glad had a big softcover King James Bible with almost two thousand pages and with the largest typeface that any Bible ever had. And Aunt Glad was once an English teacher at Oshkosh High School, where Jenny’s Mom and Dad graduated before her time. And Grandma was a widow of some decades, her husband
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having died tragically in a terrible work accident at a young age before Jenny’s time. That special first day of salvation happened for little Jenny on her day alone with Grandma and Aunt Glad. They took her out for lunch at Lum’s Restaurant in Oshkosh—the three of them together and reveling in the love of family. Jenny filled up on hamburgers and French fries and nice lemon iced tea. And Grandma asked Jenny, “What do you want to do in Oshkosh with Aunt Glad and myself for the rest of this day, O good Jenny?”
And Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir, loving being at Grandma’s and Aunt Glad’s house so dearly, went on to tell them, “I want to go to the Oshkosh Museum and go to the gift shop and buy those owl erasers again with the eyes and another of those little wooden flutes. And I want to go to the Payne Art Center and see those grand doors that they have inside that are so full of smooth woods. And I want to go to Walter’s Grocery Store and buy some more potato sticks in a canister. And I want to stand by that little black iron pole at the corner of your yard and watch the train go by down this road. And I want to play kickball by myself with your big orange ball in your backyard. And I want to make somersaults and get dizzy in your front yard. I want to eat some delicious crackers that you always have in that special kitchen cupboard. I want to drink some more orange juice from that dark green glass bottle that you have in your refrigerator. I want to have a midnight snack of that new cereal ‘Nilly Crunch.’ It is like ‘Peanut Butter Crunch’ but it is vanilla-flavored and not peanut-butter-flavored. I want to be pulled around the block in your little red wagon again. I want to go to the Oshkosh zoo again at the park. I can’t wait till tonight comes when I get to go to bed in the basement bedroom. That mattress is so comfortable; a girl can sink into the mattress so deep and fall right asleep. I want to look at all of the Oshkosh Northwestern newspapers that you save up for Mom and read all of the Ripley’s Believe It Or Nots in there. And I want to cut out all of the Blondie cartoons that are in that newspaper every day. My favorite character on Blondie cartoons is ‘Daisy the dog.’” And I want to do the word search puzzles that come in each issue of your Modern Maturity magazine, Grandma, and also in your NRTA
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Journal Magazine, Aunt Glad. And I want to read your little book again that you wrote, Aunt Glad—”Lizbeth Jane’s Own Diary.” And I want to have that wonderful casserole that you make, Grandma—with the Kluski noodles and the corn and the veal and the nice white sauce. Oh, too bad that I have to go back home tonight.”
“Are you unhappy at home?” asked Grandma.
“No,” little Jenny said.
“Are you happy at home?” asked Grandma.
“Yes,” said little Jenny.
And Aunt Glad said, “She is most happy with us, Lucille.”
“Our wonderful granddaughter and great niece, Gladys,” said Grandma.
Then Aunt Glad said, “Little Jenny, did you know that there is an even better place for little girls to go to than to Grandma’s house?”
She thought for a moment, then asked, “Is the Winnebago County Fair in town?”
Aunt Glad said, “It is better than the carnival.”
“Is it the E.A.A. when it comes to town?” asked Jenny about the famous annual air show.
“It is better than the E.A.A.,” said Aunt Glad.
“Is it Christmas Day here at Grandma’s when I get lots of presents and a box of Hughes’ chocolate covered toffees and double chocolates?” asked Jenny.
“It is better than that,” said Aunt Glad.
“What can be better than coming here?” asked little Jenny.
And Grandma said, “Going to Heaven, O Granddaughter.”
“I’ve never gone There,” said Jenny.
“We two old gals are going There,” said Grandma.
“What will it be like?” asked Jenny.
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“It will be better than anything that we have ever seen,” said Grandma.
“And once There, we will never want to come back to Earth,” said Aunt Glad.
“Are you going away, Grandma and Aunt Glad?” asked Jenny.
“Not for a good long while yet, Jenny,” reassured Grandma. “Your great aunt and I feel pretty good yet. And though we are both older in life, we’re not old as far as old people go.”
“I want to be in Heaven so that I can be with you two forever,” said young Jenny, understanding the temporary span of life for her first time.
“We old gals want to go to Heaven so that we may be with Jesus,” said Grandma.
“He is our Saviour,” said Aunt Glad.
“And we want you to be in Heaven with us,” said Grandma.
“Jesus wants to be your Saviour, too, Jenny,” said Aunt Glad.
“I want Him to be my Saviour now most of all,” professed good innocent young Jenny.
“In order to be with us?” asked Grandma.
“In order to be with Jesus,” said Jenny out right. Then she specified her statement, saying, “If you want to be with Jesus, then I want to be with Jesus.”
“That is so good to hear,” said Aunt Glad.
“Is now the time, do you think, Gladys?” asked Grandma her sister.
“I think so, Lucille,” said Aunt Glad.
“But Who is Jesus?” asked truthful and sincere Jenny.
“It is the right time,” said Grandma.
“She asked the right question,” said Aunt Glad.
And Aunt Glad put her King James Version Bible upon the table top of this booth in the restaurant, and she began to share with little Jenny salvation verses from the book of Romans, verses that Aunt Glad called, “The Roman’s Road.” As she did so, Grandma had her head bowed in silent
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prayer. At the end of this powerful Scripture of the Romans’ Road, Aunt Glad read out loud to Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir Romans 10:13, which says, “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” And ten-year-old Jenny understood the simplicity of the Gospel.
Aunt Glad then asked her, “Jenny, would you like to get saved now?”
And Jenny said, “Yes, Aunt Glad. I want to get saved now.”
And Aunt Glad led Jenny, the girl seeking and finding eternal truth, through the following sinners’ prayer line-by-line: “Dear God in Heaven: I am a little girl who has already done a lot of sinning. And that is the one thing that makes You mad at me. Above all things, You hate sin. Sin is most unholy, and You are most holy. Because of my sins, I have to go down to Hell, which is full of fire. But You care about little girls like me. You don’t want me to go down there. You want the best for me, despite the fact that I do my worst against You. You sent Your only begotten Son to the cross for me. He bled all over the cross for me. He died on the cross for me. And He came back to life on the third day as the Victor over death and dying and doom. Your coming back from the dead was Easter and what it is all about. I need You to forgive me for all those bad things I did. I need You to take away all my bad things that I did. I need You to help me to change and to stop doing all those bad things that I do. Lord Jesus, please become my Saviour as You already have become Grandma’s and Aunt Glad’s. And let me live in Heaven where You are forever and ever. And let the three of us down here be with each other and with You Up There. In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen.”
Thus did Flanders Nickels read the written testimony of salvation of his dear woman boxer.
And there was a postscript to this letter. It read a precious promise to him, saying, “I’ll come back to you, Flanders.”
Romantic thoughts of being with his gorgeous girlfriend with the hair as the gold of Ophir once again stirred him up into happiness. And the first thing he did was to get alone with God in his bedroom and to pray a thanksgiving prayer to his Heavenly Father about this for a full hour. And then
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he spent a full hour in Bible study, reading from the book “The Song of Solomon” and memorizing some of its romance verses in romance of his woman boxer.
The afternoon of her next big bout came upon her. It was at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas, Nevada. And, sure enough, there was her loyal fan and boyfriend Flanders in the front row for her, cheering her on. She was 27-0 now in her career. Then her opponent came walking toward the ring. Why, even down there her head was almost at the level of Jenny’s own head up here in the ring. And when she climbed up into the ring, Jenny had to tilt her head way back to look up at her face. She thought to herself, “Why, my reach cannot reach her head.” But this woman looked sickly gaunt despite her towering height. She could even be anorexic. She was definitely malnourished. She was lucky if she weighed a hundred pounds. And her face looked almost like a death’s head. Yet there was a look in her eyes that gave forth a certain confidence in her coming bout. She looked like a prize fight woman who was used to winning. And the American Woman doubted herself before this bout. And the woman boxer wondered if this would be the time for her.
Then the ring announcer spoke and said, “Ladies and gentlemen and children, welcome to the main event of today’s ticket. In this corner, dressed all in silver and the reigning Western European Women’s champion from Parts Unknown, I present unto you Dame Pippin Poppin.” And half of the arena cheered Pippin Poppin.
Then the ring announcer went on to say, “In this corner, dressed all in gold, the number one contender of the United States’ women’s professional boxing, from America’s Midwest, I present to you “Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.” And half of the arena cheered Jenny.
The two women boxers approached each other in the ring before the bell. Jenny spoke and said, “I have to take you out.”
And Pippin Poppin said, “I pip. I pop. And the woman goes down.”
The referee gave instructions, and the two women pugilists then stepped back into their corners.
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And the bell rang. And Jenny had forgotten to pray before this fight. The two women boxers came in upon each other in the center of the ring. One punch from the Ultimate Woman were likely to break Pippin Poppin into two. Suddenly something struck her in her nose. Pip! Then right after that something struck her in the same nose once again. Pop! Why, it was a left and a right that struck her.
Never had two gloves struck her face so fast before. Yet she hardly felt them they were so powerless. Dame Pippin Poppin, though fragile and full of bones, had the speed of a lady ninja. And before Jenny thought what to do next, another left and another right struck her in her belly. Pip. Pop. Miss Gilt-of-Ophir had not seen those two coming either. And yet neither did these gloves hurt her, also. Why, this giantess could not hurt a flea she was so weak in her arms. In secret thoughts, Jenny said to God, “If she hits me too hard, she’s liable to break an arm—her arm.” And Flanders’s woman boxer laughed within and in continued confidence. And she moved in upon her fragile foe to begin to work her over as she did with all of her other opponents in the ring. She swung the fastest stiff jab that she ever threw. It was meant to hit her in her forehead and ring her bell. Behold, Dame blocked it with her glove. Then Jenny threw an equally swift stiff jab straight out toward her belly. A body shot would slow her down. Again Dame blocked it with her glove. This woman was quick! Again, this Dame was like a woman ninja. Her defense was as polished as was her offense. Then came another pip and another pop swung by Pippin Poppin. The first glove struck her left temple, and the second glove struck her right temple. Her head moved slightly from these two blows. And they did not seem to hurt Jenny any. Pip. Pop. Another combination of two blows from Dame. And they struck Jenny’s breadbasket. Pip and pop. Another right and left from Dame striking her in her two cheeks. Still was not the woman boxer of Flanders fazed. And in her indiscretion the woman boxer thought to see this most odd adversary in the ring as a pesky fly. Nonetheless, every time Jenny threw a punch, Dame blocked it with her gloves. And even Jenny’s combinations all got blocked by Dame’s gloves. And every time Dame threw a punch, it came home. And all of Dame’s combinations came home to Jenny.
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Not one glove struck Dame from the woman boxer. And every glove of Dame struck the woman boxer. And at the end of round one, Jenny, confused and wondering, walked back to her corner.
Her trainer said, “She’s killing you out there, Jenny.”
“I feel fine,” said Jenny, confident and ready for round two.
Her trainer then said, “She’s going to kill you out there, Jenny.”
And the woman boxer said, “No. She’s not. She can’t hit like I can hit.”
She took a look at Flanders in the first row. He gave away an expression of doubts about her this time in this fight. And she said to him, “Don’t worry, Flanders. Dame hits like a girl.”
And the bell rang for round two. Pippin Poppin marched right up to her where she stood in her corner, and she began to seek to work the woman boxer over. With combinations of lefts and rights to the body and to the face of Jenny, Dame pipped, and Dame popped for the whole rest of round two.
And they were beginning to sting the woman boxer. Furthermore, every time the woman boxer threw any of her punches, Dame saw to it that her gloves never struck her, but instead her gloves could only strike Dame’s gloves. And Miss Gilt-of-Ophir was beginning to hurt in her head and in her body. And she was no longer so confident. And when the bell rang ending round two, Jenny was aching throughout in all the parts of her body. She struggled to her corner and sat herself down upon her stool with a strange feeling about this fight. She was not looking forward now to round three.
Frustrated, her trainer said to her in the corner, “Jenny, don’t fight her fight.”
“What is her fight that I am not supposed to fight?” asked Jenny in indignation.
“I don’t know,” said her trainer. “I have never seen anything like it.”
Then the bell rang for round three. Pip. Pop. Pip. Pop. Pip. Pop. This round three was more of the same story for the woman boxer. And she was beginning to become fazed by these many punches. Her body began to be sore. Her face began to be bruised and cut up. And her head began to ache all over inside and outside. And her arms began to feel heavy with her golden gloves. And the
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woman boxer was becoming overwhelmed now with Dame’s silver gloves. And Dame was still refreshed and energetic and unhurt. Then the bell rang ending round three. It was hard now for Jenny even to walk to her corner, and she fell down sitting upon her stool.
And Jenny feared round four. She said to her trainer, “I’m getting beat up pretty bad out there now.”
“Like I never saw you get beat up before,” said her trainer, fearing the worst.
“What do you think that I should do?” she asked.
And he said a shocking, “I don’t know what we can do, Jenny.”
The woman boxer thought about her boyfriend in the first row. What if he did not approve of her the way this bout was going? What if he refused to return her look? What if he were to look at her like he did not know her any more? What if this time her fight would not be a victory for her? Would Flanders break up with her? Would he quit being her fan and her friend and her boyfriend? Thinking all of these thoughts, she could not turn to look upon him now.
And she lost all confidence in her women’s boxing.
And the bell rang for round four. And it was more of the same for the woman boxer. Dame Pippin Poppin pipped and popped her same way for the entire fourth round once again. Each punch was now taking away from her a part of her consciousness. Dame’s gloves were now rocking her head and pounding her body. And these blows were beginning to knock Miss Gilt-of-Ophir senseless. And
the woman boxer was bleeding down her face.
Then the referee stepped in between the two fighters. And he asked the stunned and bloody woman boxer, “What day is this?”
She asked, “Sunday?” It was Saturday.
He then asked her, “Where are you?”
“Am I in Green Bay?” she asked. She, of course, was in Las Vegas.
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He then asked her, “Where is your corner?”
And she pointed to a corner and asked, “Is that my corner?” That was Dame’s corner.
Then he asked her, “Who are you?”
And the American Woman said, “I am the Ultimate Woman.”
As soon as he heard that, the referee called the fight at an end. Then Jenny, beaten up and dazed and nearly unconscious, now gathered her courage to look toward Flanders, whom she remembered despite her faint head. There he was, affection and approval and admiration still in his eyes for her. He still liked her. He still wanted her as his girlfriend. He still wanted to be her boyfriend. He still thought she was pretty. Even now, her pretty face, now looking not at all pretty, was still beautiful to him. And she smiled at him in her disorientation. And he smiled back at her in his fidelity.
The prize fight was done now, of course. Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir had lost her first bout of women’s boxing. And her trainer helped her to her corner and helped her down to her stool. There stood faithful Flanders right up at ringside to be with her. And the referee held up Dame Pippin Poppin’s right glove in victory, and the ring announcer said, “Winner by technical knockout, two minutes fifty-nine seconds into the fourth round, Dame Pippin Poppin.” And the fans cheered her name and Jenny’s name at the same time.
“TKO, Jenny,” Flanders Nickels said in sincere infatuation.
“Uh huh,” she said.
“Not bad, girl,” he said in a great crush for his girl.
“I’m sorry that I lost, Flanders,” said the woman boxer.
“My woman boxer is no loser in my eyes, girl,” he said to her.
“Am I still pretty to you now that I look like this?” she asked.
“Now you look beautiful,” he said.
‘Uh uh,” she said in denial.
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“Would you like to go out with me again, Jenny?” he asked.
Fearful of his great dreams of getting into the ring with her and maybe harming their romance in the long run, she asked, “Do you still want to box with me alone, Flanders?”
No longer bonded by his fetish, Flanders said, “We will never box each other, O Jenny.”
Oh good. He would never lay his glove upon her, and she would never lay her glove upon him.
And the woman boxer said, “I would still like to go out with you, Flanders.”
“You’ve come back for me,” he said. “Just as you promised in your letter and its P.S.”
It was the next week, and Flanders and his woman boxer got together for a date at his other park in De Pere—Voyageur Park. This time they were sitting side-by-side at the end of a dock that extended out into the Fox River, and they were both barefoot. It was the sunset of evening and dusk was coming soon. Their legs dangled off of the far edge of this dock, and the river was already deep here, even though the shore was not far away behind. “Flanders,” said Jenny, “try as I might, I cannot quite get my feet down into the river from up here. It is too far away for my toes to reach.”
“I can’t, either, Jenny,” he said. “Either the dock is too high, or the river is too low.”
“Flanders, this dock moves up and down and left and right,” she said. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“That must be how they built this,” he said.
“I hope that I don’t get thrown forwards into the river,” she said.
“Be careful not to get thrown forwards into the river, Jenny,” he said in tease.
“And I also hope that I don’t get thrown sideways into the river, either, Flanders,” said Miss Gilt-of-Ophir.
“Oh, Jenny,” he said in tease, “be careful not to get thrown sideways into the river, either.”
“Look how the sun is turning from yellow to orange, Flanders,” said Jenny.
“I can see it both in the sky and on the water,” he said.
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“God’s sun,” said Jenny.
“In Malachi 4:2, Jesus is called, ‘the Sun of righteousness,’ Jenny,” said Flanders.
“I remember reading that verse a few times in my Bible,” she said.
“And look at those beautiful seagulls,” he said.
“You might like seagulls, but you are the only one who does,” she said.
‘God’s seagulls,” he said.
“You’re right, Flanders,” said Jenny.
“And look at those nice big pelicans, Jenny,” said Flanders.
“Now pelicans I like,” she said. “God’s pelicans.”
“I have to thank you for helping me to come back to God after I had made a false idol out of your boxing gloves, Jenny,” he said.
“I did that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“How did I do that?” she asked.
“God turned a bad thing into a good thing,” he said.
“What was the bad thing?” she asked.
“It was something that opened my eyes to what it feels like to be a woman boxer,” he said. “I learned what it is really like to be a lady prize fighter.”
“Women’s boxing is just as much a full contact sport as is men’s boxing,” she said.
“I tell you, Jenny, that day in Las Vegas I saw you get it from all directions for four rough and tough rounds,” he said.
“Getting knocked out is not what it is cut out to be,” she said.
“And getting hit by a boxing glove does not feel good after all,” he said.
“What was the good thing that changed your mind about your old fetish?” she asked.
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“When I was reading the Bible that night and I saw the verse Hosea 14:4. That says, ‘I will heal
their backsliding, I will love them freely: for mine anger is turned away from him.’” said Flanders.
“God convicted you of your backsliding; He said that He loved you; and He said that He will not rebuke you,” said Jenny. “Is that when you got right with God?”
“Uh huh,” he said. “And I have you to thank for it.”
“How did I do the will of God for you, Flanders?” she asked.
“When you were declared the loser by technical knockout, you looked down at your gloves, then at me, then at your gloves again,” he said.
“I did that?” she asked. “I didn’t know what I was doing then.”
“You did that,” he said. “And I saw your own blood on your own boxing gloves.”
“Whoa!” she said. “I got beat up pretty bad after all.”
“And it all came back to me later that night when I read that verse,” he said. “From then on I no longer adored your gold boxing gloves, nor any boxing gloves of any color for now on. They cost my beautiful girlfriend her blood.”
“Will you still come and see me box any more?” she asked.
“Every fight. Every place. And always the first row, Jenny,” he said. “But women’s boxing is no longer my fetish and my god and my addiction.”
“Look. Flanders. The sun is turning from orange to red.” said the woman boxer.
“Twilight is coming soon, Jenny,” he said.
“What can we do together as boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-the-Lord that can be romantic for us here now, do you think?” she asked.
“Pretty soon tonight the city band will be here and play their weekly summer band concert for all who come,” he said.
“Oo, fun!” she said in delights. “What kind of music does the city band play at this park?”
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“The good old patriotic songs, Jenny,” he said.
“Like the patriotic songs that come in church hymnbooks?” she asked.
“’The Star-Spangled Banner,’ ‘My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,’ ‘America the Beautiful,’ ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic,’ for sure, Jenny,” he said.
“Those are my favorites of any songbook,” she sang out in great gladness.
“We two Christian patriots can stand up and put our hands on our hearts and honor our great America when the city band plays our national anthem,” he said.
“The United States—still the greatest country on Earth,” said Jenny Gilt-of-Ophir.
“Look, Jenny. The sun is below the horizon,” he said. “Dusk has come upon us.”
“And twilight is coming to this park,” she said.
“Do you see the park lights going on over there on that far end of Voyageur Park?” he asked her.
“I do, Flanders,” said Jenny.
“That’s where the band will be playing anytime now,” he said.
“Let’s go and honor God and country and have more fun together,” she said.
And twilight fell upon the woman boxer and her boyfriend-in-Christ.
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