“Who are you?”
Walter looked down at his old hands.
“A janitor.”
“No.”
Dylan shook his head.
“You're not.”
Walter picked up his shoes.
The referee stepped toward him.
“Mr. Bell…”
Walter smiled politely.
“Please don't.”
He put his shoes back on.
Then he returned to the mop bucket.
The crowd began talking all at once.
One teenager had recorded everything.
Another was already replaying the footage.
Marcus walked over.
“Walter.”
The old man kept pushing the bucket.
“Yes?”
“That wasn't luck.”
Walter continued cleaning.
“I know.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Where did you learn that?”
Walter stopped.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at Marcus.
“Somewhere a long time ago.”
“Where?”
Walter's eyes hardened.
“Somewhere I don't like remembering.”
Then he pushed the mop bucket away.
Marcus watched him leave.
Behind them, Dylan remained on the mat.
For the first time in years, the young fighter wasn't smiling.
The Janitor Everyone Knew
By Monday morning, everyone at Eastbrook had heard about Walter Bell.
By Tuesday, the video had been viewed thousands of times.
By Wednesday, somebody had edited dramatic music over the footage.
By Thursday, a local sports page had posted the clip with the headline:
66-YEAR-OLD JANITOR DROPS LOCAL FIGHTER IN FOUR SECONDS.
Walter hated it.
He refused to watch the video.
He refused interviews.
He refused every invitation to demonstrate what he had done.
Instead, he showed up at six every morning.
He cleaned.
He repaired.
He emptied trash.
He changed lightbulbs.
He greeted children.
He remembered birthdays.
He lived quietly.
That was what Marcus found strange.
People who possessed extraordinary ability usually enjoyed recognition.
Walter seemed terrified of it.
One afternoon, Marcus found him fixing a broken cabinet in the equipment room.
“You've become famous.”
Walter sighed.
“I noticed.”
“Dylan wants a rematch.”
“No.”
“He's serious.”
“I don't care.”
Marcus leaned against the wall.
“Why?”
Walter tightened a screw.
“Because the first match wasn't supposed to happen.”
“You embarrassed him.”
“I didn't.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“He fell.”
“Because he attacked me.”
Marcus studied him.
“What were you?”
Walter stopped.
“What?”
“Before you became a janitor.”