DON'T FIGHT TYSON.
Why you say that,
He's gonna knock
you out, Daddy.
Michelle. But I might knock him out, too.
He's gonna hurt
He might. But I
might hurt him, too.
Shelly, don't say
those things to your father, it's not right. Just pray I don't get hurt. Just
stares at the ceiling. There is silence on the phone. His little girl is seven
now. Perhaps the time has come to tell her everything, about life and death and
fear and God and the Tysons stalking all of us, about how to dodge and feint,
grab and let go, risk and run back to the shadows: how heavyweight champions
and little girls survive. A million thoughts are running through his head;
maybe seven's too young and he won't do it now, but one day soon he'll have to