by J. J. Murray
"You know I have a very rigid and demanding workout, Ruth," Naomi says. I roll my eyes. Tonya says that Naomi's workouts are her substitute for sex and that they're punishing on her body because she's so hard up to get some. Naomi isn't much different from those holy men who whip their backs bloody. Her body is a temple for the Holy Spirit, and for the Holy Spirit alone, which is a damn shame because she is so much prettier than I'll ever be. "I don't want you to think that you have to keep up with me "
"I ain't gonna keep up with you at all," I say. "I'll just do what I can and get a good sweat goin'. And I promise to stay out of your way."
"Okay," she says finally. "We'll pick you up in a few."
I search my closets and find a sweat suit that hangs off me every which way. I look like a gray shar-pei. I don't have a sports bra, and I doubt they make one big enough for me anyway, so I put on my tightest bra, the one that pushes my titties up the most. Hopefully the men at the club will be looking at my titties instead of at my stomach and ass. Sweat socks, my walking shoes, a bottle of water, and a white towel wrapped around my neck later, and I am ready to get toned to the bone.
When Tonya and Naomi roll by in Tonya's Mustang, I see them laughing before the car even stops. "What you two laughin' at?"
"Shit, girl," Tonya says as she giggles, "put you on a big white head band and some wrist bands. Be completely accessorized."
"I bet you even have high striped tube socks under there," Naomi says.
"Forget you both" The tube socks aren't that high, and the red stripe looks nice. I check out their colorful Reebok outfits with their matching colorful shoes. Even the little balls on their footy socks match their outfits. "Y'all just jealous cuz I can make whatever I wear look good. And I bet I get more attention than both y'all combined tonight. Y'all cookie-cutter workout bitches, a dime a dozen. I am unique."
"You'll get attention all right from the fat-ass men who come in to work out and look at us," Tonya says. She turns off Vine Street toward the county since there's no such thing as a health club in the 'hood. Just staying healthy is enough for most folks on Vine Street. "They'll come up to you and ask for phone numbers, all right-our phone numbers"
"Better watch what you say, Tonya," I say. "What goes around comes around"
"In your case, around and around and around," Tonya cracks. She turns to Naomi at a stop light. "They got threewheeled exercise bikes for Ruth, don't they?"
"Ha ha," I say, and I look ahead at the bright neon lights of Jeffries Gym, a two-story building with lots of windows. Anyone can see you working out? That can't be good for my self-esteem. I'll have to stay away from the windows.
Before we go in, Naomi says, "Just take it easy, okay? If you get tired, sit down and rest"
"Hell, I'm tired already," I say. "Tired of both y'all's mouths. I'll be fine."
Half an hour later, I am not fine. I am soaked. My socks slosh in my shoes, and even my ears are sweating. My ass hurts and probably has blisters. Every joint in my body hurts. Even my eyelids hurt.
And all I'm doing is riding a damn stationary bike. That's all I've done the whole time: pedal a bike, drip sweat, and watch the little TV attached to the handlebars. Alone. Away from the windows and away from everybody else. No one has gotten on the bikes to either side of me, but I don't blame them. This bike ain't goin' nowhere, but my sweat be flyin'. I don't look around me and stare like so many others do. Folks who come here, like Tonya and Naomi, are obviously here to be seen with their little radios and headphones and expensive workout shoes and clothes. I don't want to be seen. I just want to survive. Wish this bike would go someplace else.
I look at the odometer. I have just reached two miles. In half an hour. On a bicycle. I could have walked faster. I'm about to give up when I see Naomi wading through all the equipment, some of which reminds me of a trip to the gynecologist's with all the straps and stirrups. She wipes her forehead with a towel that, of course, matches the blue of her sports bra and her tight, if-she-had-a-freckle -on-her-assyou'd-see-it shorts. I start pedaling again, though my knees cuss me up and down as they go up and down.
"You doin' all right?" she says with a lazy smile.
Daa-em, girl looks like she had a workout orgasm. All I got are the wet spots. "I'm fine. This seat, though. This seat wasn't made for our people. You ought to talk to the management of this place about that. This seat was made for skinny-ass, anorexic white bitches."
She hits a few buttons on the little computer in front of me. I didn't mess with any of them mainly because I was afraid the bike would pedal itself faster. "Let's see, you've burned ... a hundred calories." She frowns. "That can't be right. You've been out here for thirty minutes."
"I've only gone two miles," I say.
"Oh," she says, checking her fancy sports watch with a blue strap. "Time for my step class. Want to watch?"
"I'll just cruise around for a little while more thanks."
She presses a button on my little TV screen, and a room full of skinny-ass bitches, most of them white, fills the screen. Anorexia in motion. "You'll see me in there in a few minutes. That's just the intermediate class. What you'll see is the advanced class."
As soon as she skips away, I turn off the little TV. I don't want to see anything except the soft mattress of my bed. Wish I had me some headphones so I couldn't hear all the grunts and groans ... that are coming mainly from me. Think my left knee's squeaking a high D. Maybe I'd do better if I was listening to some gospel. Maybe if I heard "No Ways Tired" I'd get a second wind. I laugh and stop pedaling. "I Surrender All" of this nonsense, Lord, and hope there's still some "Balm in Gilead" because this is "More Than I Can Bear." You better "Wash Me Lord" because when I get off this thing, "Its Gonna Rain" some Ruthsweat all over the-
"Hey, Ruth!" Tonya shouts from somewhere close by.
I try to play it off as she bounces over. "Just taking a little rest" I stare my knees back to their pedaling, then look up at her.
"Guess who's here, girl?"
Oh, how I hate when she does this. "Just tell me"
"I'll give you a hint. He's thin, bony, and runs Antioch Church"
"Deacon Rutledge?"
She turns my head to the side. I see Jonas pulling down on a bar attached to some machine, and the bar is winning. "Your ex is here, girl."
"So?"
"So? Look at him."
"I'm lookin'. So?"
She leans in and whispers, "He's only working out with twenty pounds" She massages my shoulders. Oh-that-feelsso-nice-please-don't-stop-She stops. "Why don't you go over there and show him up?"
I point at my other shoulder. "Massage this one first" She only gives me one weak squeeze. "I'm late for step" She, too, turns on the little TV "You can watch me if you want to.,,
I snap it off. "No, I don't want to watch you bouncing off the walls with a bunch of anorexic white bitches, and no, I do not want to outlift my ex-husband." I tap the bike. "Me and this here bike are doing just fine"
"Suit yourself." Tonya bounces away, and every man in the place watches her ass bounce by. I ought to tell 'em all that she's pushing thirty-seven ... though the bitch still somehow looks like a teenager. God, You are a funny crc- ator.
"One more mile," I whisper to my knees, "just one more mile and then we'll go soak someplace. And we'll even sleep in tomorrow. Promise."
"Still talking to yourself, I see," JonASS says behind me.
I don't answer and see the speedometer go up two miles per hour. My knees are burning in pain, but I ain't slowing down.
He gets on the bike next to me, hits a few buttons, and starts to pedal. "Looks like you've lost some weight, too. You look good, Ruth."
I am in no mood for this, so I concentrate on the odometer. There's another tenth of a mile. Nine-tenths to go.
I joined here to gain weight, can you believe it?"
No. You joined so you could pick up stray men and slutty women skinnier than you. Two-tenths done ... eight-tenths to go. My knees, thankfully, are
now numb.
"But I can't seem to get anything to stick to me"
A truer statement has never been spoken. Jonas Borum, a living, breathing nonstick surface. The Teflon preacher.
"Guess you spoiled me with all that good cooking."
Seven-tenths to go. A compliment? All the man ever did was grub and get on, leaving me with the dishes and the leftovers.
"So how have you been?"
Six-tenths. I am flying! Daa-em, if he sits there all night, I might shrink down to Tonya's size. The "Hate Your Ex And Lose Weight Diet" works!
"I can understand your reluctance to talk to me"
No you can't. You never even understood me. Hell, you don't even understand yourself. Halfway there. This isn't so bad. All I needed was some practice. I am one with this bicycle. We are-
"I'm sure you've heard about my engagement."
Jesus, Your Daddy is playing with me again! Make Him and the asshole beside me stop! To a man or a woman? I almost ask, my speed increasing another mile per hour. Fourtenths to go. Keep your eyes on the prize, girl. Ignore the petty man to your left. He's already got a nice cozy room waiting for him in hell ... but he's already engaged?
"We're planning to be married sometime in October, and, well, since you're the church organist, naturally we'd like you to play at our wedding."
I am numb from my head to my toes. Even my hair seems to freeze. He wants me to play at his wedding? I didn't even play at our wedding!
"I was against it, for obvious reasons, but Junie was insistent that you play."
Junie? Junie Pruett?
"She says that you can't have a wedding at Antioch without Ruth Childress at the organ"
Junie Pruett, second row, right side, always comes early and alone, never testifies, sings too loud, skinny as a switch, has to be at least fifty, sometimes uses a cane. That Junie Pruett?
"I don't expect you to give us an answer right now. I imagine it will take some prayer on your part"
Junie Pruett, who visited me in the hospital all those times, who brought over those wonderful casseroles when I was resting in bed, who has been complimenting me on my music after nearly every service for as long as I can remember? Her? I look at the odometer. I am two-tenths over my goal.
"If you could give us an answer by, oh, the end of September, we'd really appreciate it."
I slow and stop the pedals. My knees are dark gray splotches of sweat. I wipe streams of sweat from my face. I want to cuss him, I want to hurt him, I want to take his arm over my leg and snap it in two. Why aren't I reacting? I should be. No woman on earth would agree to this, and no amount of time on my knees should make a difference. I am not going to play at their wedding. I bet even Miss Manners would say that Jonas and his new bride-to-be are trippin'.
"So we'll hear from you?"
I nod, my eyes blank, and he leaves. What the hell just happened?
I struggle to the locker room and sit on a bench near Tonya's and Naomi's lockers. Some skinny-ass women go giggling into the shower ... and I follow them. Fully clothed. They cover themselves, which isn't a hard thing to do when you're as thin as a dime, as I go to a corner, direct two shower nozzles toward the corner, and sit. They're gone before I can settle my sore ass onto the tiles. The water is only lukewarm, and I know my hair is gonna be for shit, but I don't care.
I should have said something. I should have told him that he had a lot of damn nerve asking me. I should have said that he and his senior citizen wife, who'll have to use a walker to get down the aisle, can call someone else. I should have cussed his ass for being such an ass.
I said nothing. I just kept pedaling. What You tryin' to teach me here, Lord? This silence is not part of my culture! You made me; You know what I'm capable of. What'd You do, grab my tongue? How dare You! And here I am, my sweat mixing with these showers and runnin' down the drain while he's engaged to be married-
I look up. Showers. Showers of blessing. I scratch at my hair with both hands, lumpy locks falling over my eyes. How is what Jonas said to me a blessing, Lord? If I play at their wedding, I see a man I loved marrying someone else. I actually help them do it! That ain't no blessing ... is it?
Another skinny-ass bitch walks in, sees me, and scurries out. I smile. "Y'all still outweigh her, don't you?" I say to my legs.
Okay, let's say I don't play at the wedding. I am a proud woman. No one could blame me for not playing. I mean, even Naomi, who'll probably sit her skinny ass down near Your right hand, Naomi will agree with me. It's just not done, Lord! A man's ex-wife does not play the organ or even attend the wedding of her ex-husband! It shouldn't be done!
A trio of towel-wearing white women sticks their heads into the shower. "You all right?" one of them asks.
Just arguin' with God. Does no good. He always wins. "I'm all right." But I am soaked to the bone. I stand and have to grab at my sweatpants, holding them up by the drawstring. I slosh past them, smiling, and drip water all the way to Naomi and Tonya, who are freshening up at their lockers.
"You took a shower?" Tonya says.
"No. This is from my workout" With God, the ultimate personal trainer. I let my sweatpants drop to the floor with a loud thwack. "I know I lost at least twenty pounds. How 'bout y'all?" I peel off my sweatshirt and ring it out over a little drain in the floor.
"Ruth," Naomi hisses, "stop embarrassing us "
I act like I'm covering myself. "Oh, sorry." I sit on the bench and pull my sweatpants off over my shoes and wring them out as well. "Any of y'all got a change of clothes for me?"
"I don't believe this," Naomi says, slamming her locker shut. I am wide-eyed with wonder. I have never seen Naomi lose her temper before. I like it. Makes her more like the rest of us heathen.
"Well, believe this," I say, sliding off my shoes and emptying the water down the drain. "Good old Jonas just asked me to play the organ at him and Junie Pruett's wedding." I strip off each sock, wringing them together over the drain.
"Jonas and Junie Pruett are engaged?" Naomi asks.
14 Yep
"And he asked you to play at the wedding?" Tonya asks. I nod. "What a complete asshole!"
"And that's why you were in the shower?" Naomi asks, her voice changing back to nice, concerned Naomi. I liked Naomi the Bitch better. I don't need her pity.
I look down at my bra and bloomers. I think I'll leave them on, spare the world that particular sight. "I went into the shower to cool off. I'm cool now, almost cold." I rub my arms. "Can I borrow a towel?"
Naomi spins the dial on her combination lock and pulls out two towels, draping one over my shoulders, the other over my legs.
"You're not gonna do it, are you?" Tonya says.
"Don't know," I say.
"Don't know?" Tonya says. "Girl, there is only one answer to that question: no. No motherfuckin' way."
"I have till the end of the month to think about it," I say, drying the water out of my ears. I sniff a laugh. "I can't believe how calm I am, can you?"
Naomi sits next to me. "Normally, Ruth, I'd say to pray about it."
"Done that" Kept getting interrupted by skinny, naked white bitches, though.
"But this time ... This time I agree with Tonya. It just isn't right, not only for him to ask you, but for you to actually consider doing it."
I shrug. "Maybe it ain't a question of right or wrong. Maybe it's a question of which decision is more right. Yeah, it's a shitty offer, but ... Maybe I ought to do it anyway. It might give me some closure." I know "closure" and a bunch of other talk-show words. "Maybe seeing him end it with Junie will start something with me."
Naomi pats my hand. "Ruth, dear Ruth, believe me when I say this, but that's just pure bullshit."
My mouth drops to the floor, and for once, Tonya doesn't say a single thing. Naomi the Perfect just cursed! Lord, I think that seat at Your right hand is vacant now.
"Forgive me, Lord, but it's true," Naomi says. "Folks at that wedding will see a scared, defeated woman, a woman who's still under
that man's power, a woman who has no kind of self-respect, a woman-"
"Who can really fuck up his wedding," I say with a smile.
Naomi starts to say something and stops. "No, Ruth," Naomi says real slow. "Oh, no, not that"
"Yes," Tonya says with a broad smile. "Yes! That's perfect! Damn, I wasn't gonna crash it before, but now I want to be in the front row! I mean, even if you don't fuck it up, it'll sure make those two paranoid. When the preacher gets to `speak now or forever hold your peace,' all eyes will be on you, Ruth. Now, that's some motherfuckin' power"
I smile. "I'd have to practice what to say, of course"
"Of course," Tonya says.
"And I could sing `Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen' instead of `The Wedding Song,' huh?"
"You could," Tonya says. "Even though you can't sing ... but that would be even better!"
"No, Ruth," Naomi says. "Doing that would be wrong"
"Wronger than him having the living gall to ask me or wronger than not playing at the church where I've been the organist for over twenty years?"
"Ruth, I-"
I put a finger on Naomi's lips. "No sense in discussing this now. I'm gonna do what you always say to do, Naomi: I'm gonna pray about it."
"But in this case-"
I press my finger harder on her lips. "And when the time comes, Naomi, I'm gonna make the decision all by myself." I pull my finger away. "Now, do you, or do you not, have a change of clothes for me?"
"Fine." I unroll the sweatpants and slide into them. "You know I ain't ever comin' back here" I squeeze into the sweatshirt and decide to carry my shoes and socks.
"Why not?" Tonya asks. "It looked like you were having a good workout"
"Oh, I had a good workout. Know I lost some weight, too. I just think I can get a better one somehow without my ass gettin' blisters. Thanks for inviting me, though"
"You invited yourself," Naomi says.
"Well, thanks for not saying no"
And all the way home I think about it: if I hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen Jonas. Oh, I'm sure he would have asked me to play at his wedding eventually, but for that monkey of a man to ask me the same day I fall from the monkey bars? This has to be God's will.
