A monologue from the play by Sunil Kuruvilla
PEG (twenty-five)
Peg is a Welsh woman in love with boxing and in love with local hero, boxer Johnny Owen, who’s fighting a bout in Los Angeles for the world welterweight title.
Here she is talking to her sister, Nia, about why she and Johnny are, as they say, made for each other.
I know Johnny’s hands. (Silence. Peg slowly starts to confess her relationship with Johnny to her sister.)
Every Saturday night, Johnny and I meet in the basement of the church with the rest of you.
We wait until everyone starts dancing close then we sneak away. We go to the gym. I boost Johnny to the window.
I can’t fit through but he can. He comes around and unlocks the door. You don’t want to hear the rest. . . .
Johnny never likes to take his shirt off. I have to go first. My skirt. His trousers. My stockings. His socks. Stripped naked, we dress each other.
Working from the ground up. Socks, shoes. Leather cup. The laces rub my spine. Satin trunks tied in the front.
The knot against my belly. Fingers on my lips. His rough hands rub Vaseline on my face. . . . We try to make each other bleed.
Eyes wide open. Seeing everything. I’m bigger but he’s quicker. I try to get inside on him, close the distance.
I make him go hard: (Shouts:) “Don’t hold back! Floor me! Go for my body!” (Peg moves toward Nia.)
Hook to the kidney. Shot to the belly. He makes me ache. But I study his body. He drops his shoulder after double jabbing.
He sits down on his back foot. He always backs away shocked when I figure him out. In the end we come together.
A tired clinch. (Peg clinches Nia.) Shoulder to shoulder. Our arms hooked together to keep the other from punching.
Breathing each other’s breath. Exhausted. Alive. You hear your man breathe. You hear yourself.
