Mike trudged up the stairs to his room. This was his sanctuary, where he could break down without fear of reprisal from his parents for being a crybaby, as he had so often heard.
His room was at the front of the house and was sparsely appointed. As is typical for most teenage boys it was messy, with dirty clothes strewn about and countless personal effects tossed randomly around.
Upon entering the room, his twin bed was against the wall on the right, with the headboard against the wall. Above the bed and pinned to the ceiling was a poster of a beautiful, voluptuous, red-haired model in a black string bikini. He called her Anna. Immediately to the right of the doorway was a brown wooden dresser that matched the headboard and nightstand. To the left was a TV stand which held a twenty-inch television, a VCR, a game system and a radio with a CD player. In the far-left corner of the room was a full-length, freestanding floor mirror. Directly across from the doorway was a large bay window that looked out across the front yard and across the street.
Mike walked in, collapsed onto his bed and cried himself to sleep.
5:37 p.m. After a short nap, Mike woke up feeling a bit restored. He stared up at Anna and thought, At least I can always count on you, baby. From his secret place under his bed where he would conceal the evidence, Mike grabbed a sock—his “crunchy” sock as he called it—and fantasized about Anna as any normal, testosterone-rich teenage boy would do.
5:38 p.m. Mike cleaned up and wondered what he was going to do for the rest of the evening. With the testosterone dump and an improved outlook on things, Mike got out of bed. He stood in front of his mirror, staring at himself and taking an inventory. “Black eye, great. How am I going to explain to Dad how I got my ass kicked by a smaller kid? But look, I can see the outline of some —abs—maybe not a six-pack, but hey, something is going on there.” He thought he was looking better, but then he came to his senses and looked into the mirror and yelled, “But you’re still a fat ass!” Now pumping himself up like a coach before the big game in a movie, Mike started to yell with more intensity. “C’MON fat ass . . . get with the program. You need to whip your marshmallow-y ass into shape, and round’s not the shape to be! Let’s go, fat boy! Come on, Chubs! Only YOU can make the change, Tubby!”
Now invigorated and feeling empowered, Mike grabbed a pair of his dirty shorts from the hamper. He sniffed them, and shuddered as the smell reminded him of the rancid Moose. He put them on anyway, along with a clean t-shirt and his high tops. He proceeded to the garage and put those plastic and cement weights to good use.
After the most intense workout of his life to date, he was drenched in sweat and sore in ways he never knew was possible. With his workout completed, he headed to the kitchen for dinner.
“Salad again? God, I hate salad,” he said. But if Nancy knew anything, it was diet and nutrition. She knew what to eat and how much. “Look at her; she looks like a friggin’ supermodel.” Mike was always embarrassed when he would hear boys his age talk about her and say, “Man, your mom is way hot!”
He proceeded to eat the large bowlful of crisp Romaine lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, green peppers and spinach. Why spinach? He especially hated spinach. The salad was garnished with a splash of light dressing. Along with his salad, Nancy had prepared him a lightly seasoned chicken breast and some asparagus.
Mike felt that most of the time, Nancy was not much of a mom, usually distant and preoccupied, but since his decision to get in shape, she had taken more of an interest in him. She had been very supportive, and on more than one occasion over the past month, even complimented him on the effort he was putting into his workouts and eating. She encouraged and educated Mike on the importance of incorporating some cardio into his workouts as well.
One evening Mike determined, “Nancy’s right. Tomorrow morning I’m going to go for a run.”
Mike knew he was no runner, but he had been reading all the workout magazines, and with Nancy’s encouragement he determined that he could do it if he applied himself. Besides, it would speed up his metabolism and help him achieve his goal sooner. He only had eleven weeks before school started, and he would need every advantage to achieve his goal.
After eating dinner, he watched a little TV on the large screen, rear projection television in the family room where Big Mike would religiously watch football games on Sundays, when Mike would usually sit up in his room. He never understood what his dad saw in football, or why he would get so intense, yelling at the TV all day long and into the evening.
10:42 p.m. Still alone, Mike was in bed and he looked up at Anna. He imagined Anna telling him how sexy he was, and how she wanted him. Mike thought, I’m gonna give it to you good, baby. Once again, he reached under his bed for “Old Crunchy.”
10:43 p.m. Now spent, Mike smiled and turned off the light as he said to Anna, “I’ll see you in the morning, good looking.”
Saturday, 8:05 a.m. The alarm sounded. Mike sprang out of bed and checked his eye. Shit, the eye looks worse than yesterday. That little shit has quite a punch. Mike’s eye had turned black and blue, though the swelling had gone down.
He could smell the coffee brewing downstairs. I wonder if Nancy and Dad are both home. This almost never happened. What will I say if they ask me about my eye? I’ll just tell them I ran into a door . . . again.
Mike went downstairs to find Nancy in her old bathrobe, sipping coffee at the table in the breakfast nook. She still had the look of a beautiful model, even in an old, tattered bathrobe.
“Good morning, Nancy,” He said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Dad?”
Nancy, never looking up from her paper said, “He had a 7:30 tee time at the country club. Where are you off to?”
“I’m going for a run.”
With an astonished expression on her face, Nancy finally peeked over her paper and immediately saw the black eye. “Oh my God. What happened, Mikey? Don’t tell me another door.”
“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, I won’t press. So, you’re going on a run, are ya? I’m very happy to hear that. I think you’ll find it will help you achieve your goal much faster. Maybe one day we can run together.”
“Really? You’d go with me?”
“Of course, honey. I just never thought I’d see the day that you’d be taking such an interest in fitness. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished so far. I’m starting to see the difference in you already.
Would you mind if I went with you this morning?”
“Sure. That would be great.”
“Okay, give me five minutes to get dressed.”
Mike was perplexed by Nancy’s sudden interest in his life. He became filled with a feeling of satisfaction, and he smiled for the first time in a long time.
After thirty minutes of primping, Nancy came down the stairs in her bright yellow, spandex leotard that accentuated her toned abdomen, black spandex leg warmers that came to the top of her knees, and white running shoes with ankle socks. The ripple of her toned thighs could be seen with every step she took. Of course, she had all her makeup on and her hair was perfect. To any other man, she was a goddess, but to Mike she was just Nancy, his mom.
This is pretty cool, he thought to himself as they stepped outside. Mike took the time to look around the still-quiet neighborhood. Across the street was the Miller’s house that had been put on the market several months ago. They had moved to California after Mr. Miller got promoted to Vice President of his company. Mike noticed for the first time that the realtor’s sign had been taken down.
He asked Nancy, “Did the Miller home sell?”
“I don’t know, but the sign is gone. Maybe we’re gonna get some new neighbors. Okay, let’s get started. The first thing to do is stretch. Stretching is very important before and after your workouts,” Nancy said, getting him to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay now, don’t expect too much from the first day. It took me quite a while to get to where I could run comfortably. We’ll ju
st go until you get tired, okay?”
Mike responded, “Yep, sounds good.”
The two headed down the sidewalk of their upper middle class, gated community that lay in the suburbs of the busy city. The sun was shining, the sky was clear and the air smelled clean. Mike never imagined himself running, but here he was, with Nancy coaching him all the way.
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Purse your lips as you exhale. Heel to toe, shorten your stride, eyes ahead, and focus on an object in the distance.”
Thinking Nancy sounded a bit like a drill instructor, Mike was getting frustrated and he thought to himself, all right already, I get it! But he remained silent; in the end he was grateful that she was there with him.
After the second lap around the big block, Mike was panting like a Saint Bernard in July. His clothes were so wet with sweat they were sticking to his body. He looked to his left, and there was Nancy, breathing normally, with not so much as a bead of sweat. It became immediately clear to Mike that she was holding back for his sake.
Mike pressed on, refusing to show weakness to his Olympian-like athlete of a mom. After about fifteen minutes, and the end of their third lap around the block, Nancy said, “Wow Mikey, do you realize you just ran a mile without stopping?”
“A . . . a . . . a mile?” Mike gasped. His lungs were on fire and his legs were shaky. Now hunched over, he said “I . . . I ser . . . seriously just ran a . . . a mile?”
“Ran? Well . . . we jogged a mile,” Nancy explained with a smile on her face. “But still, I’m very impressed. I’m so proud of you. I could never have run, walked or jogged a mile without stopping when I first started way back in the day.”
Mike had never heard such an uplifting discourse from Nancy before, and he was overcome with a feeling of accomplishment. Seeing the shape Nancy was in became an inspiration to him. Maybe there’s hope for me yet, he thought. Mike knew this would be the start of a new chapter in his book of life. This was his time, and there was no way he would screw this up.
Mike and Nancy continued with their small talk as they went back in the house. “Great job today. I’m not doing anything tomorrow. Are you up for another run?”
Before he had a chance to think about how much pain he was in, Mike responded, “Yeah, I can’t wait!”
Now with a lighter step, Mike bounded up the stairs to take a shower.
Nancy watched her son walk away. She saw him in a new way she never had before. She felt something that had escaped her as a mother—until then—pride. She thought to herself, with a little tweaking, I bet I can transform this burly boy into a chiseled man. Maybe there’s a little more of his father in him than I thought.
9:43 a.m. Mike got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel, and stood in front of his full-length mirror to re-examine himself, this time with a fresh perspective. Now he could imagine himself in a different way. With the music blaring in the background from his Discman, he let his towel fall to the ground. Mike started to pose, like the guys in the muscle magazines he had been reading.
He envisioned himself with large biceps and ripped abs. Now naked in front of his mirror, he flexed and practiced the poses: the crab, the front double bicep, the front lat spread, the side chest, the side triceps, most muscular and several others. While he was distracted by his posing techniques, he didn’t realize that his blinds and window were wide open.
Mike then heard a loud “PSSSSH.” It was the sound of a truck’s air brakes being set from across the street. He turned around and realized the window was open. To his horror, he saw a girl staring at him from the front yard of the old Miller house.
Oh my God, how long has she been there? he thought.
Mortified, he fell to the ground and grabbed his towel. He crawled to the window, reached up and closed the blinds. Now covered, Mike stood up and peered through the blinds. He stared at the girl. She was a redhead like his beloved Anna, kind of cute, not gorgeous, but not too bad at all. It was clear by the large moving van that she and her family were just moving into the Miller house.
“I thought yesterday was the worst day ever, but this might top it. I wonder if she saw me naked. Oh my God, I can never face her.”
Mike could see that the girl was smiling, but not in a mean way. It seemed to be an innocent smile. The more he watched her, the prettier she became.
“Forget it, stupid. She’ll never notice you, at least not yet.”
***
Sunday morning, Mike awoke to Nancy badgering him. “C’mon sleepy head, it’s nine o’clock. You promised me a morning run.”
Mike begrudgingly woke up, feeling pains in places he didn’t think were possible.
Nancy could see his anguish. “Did you remember to stretch like I told you?”
“No, I forgot.”
“Now you know why we stretch. I’ll see you downstairs. Hurry up, slowpoke,” Nancy said in an unfamiliar loving tone.
Mike stared at the ceiling, admiring his Anna. “You get me, don’t you?” Then he remembered the incident at the window the day before. “Oh man, I hope she’s not outside.” Mike knew he would have to hurry, and would have no time for intimacy with Anna. “Sorry sweetie, maybe later.” He smiled and winked at the poster.
When Mike got downstairs, he was surprised to see his dad sipping on a cup of coffee. There was Nancy, standing behind Big Mike, rubbing his neck. Of course, she looked like a Greek goddess as usual in her tight-fitting workout clothes, but what was more surprising to Mike was to see his father wearing gray running shorts, a blue tank top and running shoes.
Looking up from his paper, Big Mike said, “Hey! There he is. How ya doing, champ? Door again?” Big Mike said with a smile. “Your mother tells me you’ve been working out. She told me how good you did yesterday on your first run. I’ve been meaning to start running again. I hope you don’t mind if I join you two.”
Mike couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t done anything with his parents in such a long time. If I knew this would happen, I would have done this a long time ago. he thought to himself.
Mike responded, “No, sir. That would be awesome.”
“Well then, let’s hit the road, literally,” Big Mike said in his best comical voice. Big Mike was always so serious, and it was odd for Mike to hear his dad trying to be jocular.
Mike did his best to smile at the lame attempt at humor.
The trio went outside to start their run.
Mike looked across the street. Whew, she’s not there. Thank you, God.
They all stretched, and Nancy said, “Ready?”
Mike said, “I think so.”
Nancy said to Big Mike, “How about you, big daddy?”
“As ready as I’m going to be. You know, I used to be quite an athlete back in my day.”
“Yes, you were, daddy. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
Nancy gave his dad a kiss, and then she poked him in the belly with both index fingers, saying, “But that was a long time ago, chubby.” The two laughed, then hugged and kissed again.
Mike was almost sickened by the public display of affection shared between his parents, but he saw them in a way he never had before. He liked it, and he smiled to himself.
“Let’s go, you two. Geez, get a room.”
They all laughed and started their journey through the familiar neighborhood. On their second lap around the block, Mike noticed the girl from yesterday.
Oh no, there she is. He started to sweat profusely, but not just because he was about to collapse from the running. Mike felt a wave of nausea come over him. I’m gonna hurl, I know it.
The three of them, jogging in unison, ran past the house with the girl in the front yard. She saw Mike and smiled at him. It was that same sweet smile he had seen the day before from his shameful perch, not the scornful sneers he had grown accustomed to from the other girls. She waved at Mike in a gentle way as he ran by. Distracted by the cute redhead, he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, but managed to
keep from falling.
Mike’s dad laughed, “She’s kind of a cutie, huh son? Sort of reminds me of that hottie that stares down at you in your bed.”
“She’s all right, I guess,” Mike said hesitantly, rolling his eyes.
“I guess someone finally moved into the Miller’s house. Maybe later we’ll go over and introduce ourselves.” Mike panicked at the thought.
On their third lap, she was nowhere to be seen. Relieved, Mike said to Nancy, “Is that a mile?”
Nancy responded, “That’s a mile.”
“Can we go another lap?”
She smiled with pride and said, “If you’re up for it. How about you, daddy?”
Big Mike, a once proud athlete, had become a middle-aged man, spending his days wearing a suit and moving only between a sedentary office and a courtroom. He realized that he had let himself go, but was now inspired by his son’s enthusiasm. “I’m up if he’s up. No way am I gonna let some young punk best me.”
The three continued on, and Mike was the happiest he could remember.
***
The summer forged ahead, and it proved to be a busy one for Mike. He never wavered from the special diet that Nancy planned out for him, and he worked out every day. Mike’s body transformed before his eyes. He would check his body fat, weigh himself, and eat everything in just the right proportions. Mike went through two complete wardrobe changes between June 21st when school let out, and September 3rd, the first day of high school.
He would spend most of his afternoons in his bedroom watching the girl across the street sunbathe. From his roost, he could see into her backyard and the area around her pool where she would lie in the sun. The cute redhead would often wear a black bikini, and when she did, she looked more like his beloved Anna. She, too, was transforming that summer. Her breasts had developed and filled out the bikini top now. More and more, he would think of her as he lay awake in bed, and Anna became less and less the object of his desire. On one occasion, he caught her sunbathing topless. If only she knew I could see her and what I was doing now. Hello, Crunchy, my old friend.
Epistle of the Damned Page 2
