Illustration Friday: Wrapped

Mr. Campbell was a volunteer who was once a boxer. I met him while I was learning how to box at Good Shepard's Gym in Akron. He was lean and balding with tired yellowish eyes. Mr. Campbell would show me how to jab and work the heavy bag. He would get in the ring and take punches with the pads as we worked on our jab, saying that's right, mhm-hmm. He always looked tired and sometimes he'd even fall asleep in the chairs while we hit the heavy bags or shadowboxed. Mr. Campbell would wrap my hands for me whenever I looked like I needed help, which was often. He would tell me to spread my fingers wide and then he would proceed to wrap my hands in such a way that I thought they would resemble bound feet by the time I'd get done boxing. I'd look at his hands while he wrapped mine. They were like darkly tanned leather, worn but with a shine to them, frail.
Today, after seven years, I returned to the gym at its new location. Mr. Campbell was nowhere to be seen. He had passed away.