Prologue

 

PROLOGUE

Detroit, Michigan    April 28, 1933

     She squalled the moment her head cleared the birth canal. Was she warning the world to prepare for her coming or was she enraged at the world she was about to enter? It mattered little to the startled physician who increased the dose of ether to the terrified mother. Moments later, a much relieved Dr. Marshall wiped his sweaty brow on his sleeve.

     “That was a close call,” he said to his nurse. “Despite the complications, the mother is fine and I’ve delivered a solid, healthy, screaming baby girl.” He fingered the tiny arms and delicate fingers of the wriggling newborn. “Ten perfect little fingers. Ten perfect little toes. And oh, what a crowning glory your hair will be if you keep these thick black curls.” He hesitated for a moment,  “Look at those eyes, they’re such a deep blue, they’re almost violet.” He chuckled. “You know, I’ve delivered hundreds of babies, but this one, this one has a look in her eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this one doesn’t trust me. Now, little one, what could I have possibly done that you wouldn’t trust me?”

     As he spoke, Moriah screeched as if to reinforce her discontent. “Oh, you’re going to be one tough little cuss. Just look at those fists. Yep, I think you’ll be the first woman boxer of any consequence. Looking for a fight already?” He stroked her cheek with his index finger.

     The baby tensed, stretching to her full length and appeared ready for another burst of temper.

     “Think I’m losing my touch?” Dr. Marshall asked as he handed Moriah to the nurse.

     “I don’t think so.” The nurse cradled Moriah. “I wouldn’t take her display personally. She just seems to have a mad on! What a ruckus!” The nurse clicked her tongue and began cleaning the newborn. “What a ruckus!”  

 

 

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