The sasquatch hand moved to his head, messed his hair, pushed down on his scalp with uncomfortable force.
“Hello,” Dad said.
“Hello, folks. I’m Randy, the head counselor here at Fit Camp.” The hairy man shook hands with Dad, then Mom. He smiled down at Baxter, but Baxter looked away.
“We’re the Stephens’ and this is our son, Baxter. He’s here to shape up.” Dad squeezed Baxter’s shoulder again.
“Is that right?” Randy said as if talking excitedly to a toddler. “Well, I guarantee we’ll take real good care of him.”
Mom and Dad smiled and looked down at Baxter. Other parents were saying their goodbyes to their little chubby bundles of joy all around him. Other counselors were trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.
Baxter couldn’t say a word to his parents. Their faces were lit with anticipation, as if the camp would make him a better person, make them love him more.
He craved a candy bar.
* * *
They sat in the cafeteria. Their chunky arms and legs rubbed against each other as they huddled together at the cramped table. The counselors smiled at the fresh meat, whispering to each other. Baxter still couldn’t believe he was there. It all felt like a bad Disney movie.
“Hi.” A voice came from his left. “I’m Chris.”
Baxter turned toward the voice and was met by a smiling oval face. Though Baxter knew he was overweight himself, this kid actually made him feel good about his own appearance. The boy’s face looked tiny surrounded by so much cheek and chin, his breasts pouring over his stomach, stomach pouring over his groin. His arms rested on the sides of his belly which pushed them outward as if he wore a heavy coat. Labored breaths rattled from his throat, causing Baxter to feel out of breath himself.
“Baxter,” he said, trying his best not to stare.
As he looked around the room, his spirits continued to rise. He had always seen himself as the chubbiest kid around, but now he seemed to be the smallest. At least at Fit Camp he was.
“Your parents make you come, too?” Chris said.
“Yeah. I can’t believe I’m here right now,” Baxter said.
“Me either. I don’t think I’m that big.”
Baxter cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.
The counselors stood shoulder to shoulder at the head of the room, facing the kids. Randy walked into the cafeteria and slammed the door behind him. He faced everyone, his teeth glistening under the fluorescents.
“Welcome to Fit Camp, everyone! I can’t tell you how excited I am to see all these new chubby faces here today.”
Baxter wondered why he would use a word like chubby. He didn’t like Randy, or the camp, at all.
“We have a special treat for all you newcomers. A specially prepared feast.”
Murmurs erupted from the between the kids’ saliva-slickened lips. Randy had their full attention now.
“Now, I want you all to really enjoy this. Consider this your last meal, you know, like people about to be executed.”
Baxter didn’t like the tone of Randy’s voice or the smirk on his face at the mention of execution. Chris bounced up and down, waves of fat rolling under his shirt. He smacked his lips and breathed heavily.
Two swinging doors burst open and another group of counselors pushed stainless steel carts out: four carts in all, each one piled high with food. Food that normally would make Baxter go crazy. One cart was full of doughnuts, all shapes and colors piled on top of one another, the glaze glistening. Pies and cakes of all varieties littered the next cart. Another cart contained what looked like fried food, though Baxter had no idea what some of it was. All brown and crispy, sweating grease. A mountain of pizza, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and other delicious-looking delights rode the last cart.
The symphony of aromas in the cafeteria was almost too much for Baxter to take. As hungry as he was and as good as the food looked, there was no way he was touching it. Seeing the bouncing anticipation of the other kids, along with Randy’s gleaming rictus, had evaporated his appetite.
The rest of the kids giggled and licked their lips as they ogled the food, unable to contain themselves with the promise of stuffing their chunky faces.
“All right, everyone. Dig in!” Randy yelled.
The counselors stood back and watched as the jiggling stampede roared forward. Spongy fingers grabbed and shoved. They stuffed deserts into their mouths as they piled more onto their plates, licking custard and glaze flakes from their moist lips.
Baxter just sat there, unable to move, stomach roiling as the kids gorged themselves. Chris rocked and whimpered in his seat beside him. Baxter hesitated to look toward the boy next to him as more moaning oozed from Chris’s lips. The bench’s metal legs scraped across the floor and the boy wiggled his body. An image of the fat kid with his hands deep in his pants as he stared at the mounds of food flashed through Baxter’s mind, and he shook his head to rid himself of the thought.
But when Baxter finally turned to face his neighbor, he realized the boy was just stuck in his seat. Chris rocked his body back and forth, his labored breathing rattling in his throat, but couldn’t get himself free. His eyes looked like black gumdrops shoved into the dough of his head, and they darted from the food, to his seat, to Baxter.
“You need some help?” Baxter said.
Chris answered with his eyes and a jiggling nod of his head. Baxter shoved his arms under Chris’s armpits and lifted as the boy rocked his body free of the table and bench imprisonment. Without issuing a thanks, he waddled toward the carts, wiping sweat from his face as he swiped a plate.
Baxter sat back down and rested his chin in his palms. If his parents were hoping to scare him straight, it was actually working. Is this what I look like to Mom and Dad when I eat at home? Sure, compared to the blimps in front of him, he seemed pretty normal, but what about when he left this place? To the rest of the world, he was still a fat ass.
Hairy fingers wrapped around his shoulder and squeezed. “Aren’t you hungry, Baxter?”
Baxter flinched, glanced up at Randy. He tried to shrug the hand away, but it held strong. “No.”
“It’s your last chance. Are you sure?” The hand squeezed harder.
“I’m sure, okay?”
Randy didn’t say anything more. His hand never left Baxter’s shoulder as they watched the kids gorge themselves. Wet smacking and slurping sounds swam through the air.
* * *
Baxter lay on top of his stiff mattress and dreaded the horrible activities he was sure the counselors had planned for the kids. He ended up getting a bunk with Chris, and gladly gave the boy the bottom bed. Baxter wondered how much sense it made to have overweight kids sleeping on bunk beds. The thought of one crushing another almost made him laugh.
The door crashed in and a blond counselor rushed inside, a green hose clutched in his fists. He held his thumb over the end and sprayed the kids.
“Wakey wakey, hands off your snakey!”
The boys covered their faces with blankets, arms, anything they could to avoid the freezing water. Most were unable to move, their thick bodies rocking in their beds, as the water splashed over them.
“Time to get moving, you fat tubs of shit!”
“Hey, man. You can’t talk to us like that,” one boy said. Water dripped from his multiple chins.
“I can’t?” The blond man stomped his way toward the boy, yanked him to a sitting position by his hair, then slapped him across the face. The boy’s cheeks jiggled with the force of the blow. A red handprint glowed like a neon sign.
The room went silent. The only sound coming from the boy was his heavy, snotty breathing.
“Here at Fit Camp, we do what it takes to get you fat fucks in shape.” The counselor grabbed the boy’s flabby breast and squeezed it. The boy thrashed and whimpered. “And if any of you have a problem with that, speak up now.”
Nobody said a word. The boy screamed as he tried to escape the man’s pinching, but he cou
ldn’t get away. Tears ran down his plump cheeks.
The counselor finally let go and stood in the middle of the room. “I’m Kyle. Nice to meet you all. Now get the fuck outta bed and get outside.”
The sound of movement filled the room as the boys rolled themselves out of bed. The crying boy rubbed his chest as he gathered himself.
Kyle watched and shook his head as the boys struggled to get their clothes on, especially when it came to their shoes. Most had to help each other, unable to reach their feet.
Already knowing he’d need it, Baxter jumped down and helped Chris. The boy kept glancing toward Kyle, then back at Baxter, his breaths rattling, chest heaving.
They followed the counselor out of the cabin toward the clearing outside where the trees swayed in the crisp, cold wind. The girls were outside too, the female counselors ushering them along to join the boys. They lined up, Baxter unable to see what lay ahead through the bulky bodies of his peers.
“What’s going on?” he asked Chris.
“I can’t see anything.”
The counselors walked up and down the line, smiling at the kids.
The line moved, little by little, and Baxter eventually saw what they were doing. Weighing them. A stainless steel scale stood at the front of the line, and the counselors forced each kid to strip down to their undies. One boy, his stomach draping over his crotch, stepped onto the scale. His back folded at the sides and freckles stippled his skin.
“Jesus Christ, boy.” Kyle moved the metal pegs and wrote down the boy’s weight on a clipboard. “I can’t even see your balls.”
The boy’s head drooped as he shuffled away.
The girls stood just behind Baxter, their half-naked bodies making him blush; he’d never seen a naked girl before, not in person anyway. He tried to avert his eyes to the ground, but they kept springing back toward the feminine flesh. A large black girl shifted her weight from side to side as she wiped tears from her eyes. Her bra looked ready to snap at any moment, hanging on to her frame by a thread.
“Your turn, fat ass.” Kyle pulled Chris forward. “Strip down.”
“I-I can’t.”
“You can’t? What’s the matter, you got a pussy down there?”
Chris just stared at his feet, or maybe his stomach, and said nothing. Kyle sprang forward, grabbed Chris’s shirt and ripped it off. Chris’s entire body jiggled, his breasts bigger than most of the girls’.
“Want me to do the rest, piggy?” Kyle tossed the tattered shirt to the ground.
Chris shook his head and pulled his pants off. A very visible brown streak ran down the back of his sagging briefs.
After Chris was finished, Baxter stripped without having to be told and stepped onto the scale. Kyle nodded his head and wrote down the information, then slapped Baxter on the ass when he passed.
“Next!”
* * *
They stood in an open field, lined up shoulder to shoulder, the girls mixed in with the boys. Randy walked back and forth in front of them.
“Today is the day you make a change. A big change.” He stood in front of Baxter and smiled. “I’ll give you all a choice. You can come with me or you can go with your assigned counselor.” He pointed to the men and women standing at attention, lined up opposite from the kids. “I’ll be doing exercises and showing you how to eat healthy. It’s something you can take with you and use in everyday life. Those of you who don’t wanta put in the effort, that want the easy way out, your counselor will take care of you. You come with me, it’ll take hard work and dedication. It can be done.” His eyes landed on each kid’s face, one and a time, then stuck on Baxter’s. “Or, you can go with your counselor, and they will show you the Fit Camp secret. Something that’ll change you forever.”
The kids looked around at each other. Baxter had already made his choice. Whatever Fit Camp’s secret was, he wanted nothing to do with it. He could lose his weight. He could do the hard work.
“For those of you ready to exercise, ready to put in the effort, follow me.” Randy walked past the kids and nodded to the counselors. Baxter stepped out of line and followed, mortified when he realized he was alone. Not a single other person moved.
Randy locked eyes with Baxter and smiled. “I thought you might come, Baxter.”
“All right, you fat, lazy sacks of shit!” The counselors stomped toward the queue of kids. “You come with us, one at a time! Step forward when you hear your name!”
Baxter knew that whatever this place had in store for the others was not the easy way out. Nothing about the camp was easy. He stared at the back of Randy’s head as they walked past the trees and toward the cabins.
“You made the right choice, Baxter. Good exercise and a healthy diet is all you need. You know I used to be fat, too?”
“Really? How long ago?”
Randy laughed. “Oh, not too long ago. I made a decision and it changed my life. I think you can do great things, Baxter.”
They stepped through the doorway of a cabin that was far bigger than all the others. Workout equipment lay everywhere: free weights, treadmills, bicycles. Baxter had never used anything like that before.
Randy showed him a routine, using the treadmill to work up a sweat, then moving to the bicycle, and eventually some weight training. Sweat poured down Baxter’s face, his shirt stuck to his body. As hard as the work was, he felt good. He had never felt so good in his life, so alive.
“That was a great first day, Baxter. You keep this up and the results will be very rewarding. You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“Go take a shower, then meet me in the cafeteria, all right?”
Baxter nodded, noting to himself how friendly Randy was all of a sudden. He couldn’t help but wonder what the other kids were going through.
He jumped in the shower and sighed as the scalding water rinsed away the sweat glaze coating his fat rolls. Squeezing handfuls of belly, he vowed to himself to lose the weight. The sight of Chris and all the others was enough to make him sick, and he could suddenly feel the lard hanging off of him. The methods of the counselors were intense, but effective.
He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The air bit at his damp skin as he trudged across the gravel trail toward his cabin. A boy sat on the bottom bunk just inside, staring into his lap.
“Hey,” Baxter said as he passed, then stopped and stared.
The boy smiled up at him. It was the same boy from that morning, the one Kyle had given the titty twister to. His face was leaner, his torso shrunken in under his now loose-fitting shirt. The smile never left his face as he glared at Baxter.
Baxter threw some clothes on, then hurried out of the cabin, leaving the creepy boy behind. He walked toward the cafeteria where Randy was waiting for him.
“Feel better?”
“What are the counselors doing to the others?”
Randy’s smile faded. “You don’t need to worry about that. You made the right choice, Baxter. Let’s get you something to eat.”
They walked into the cafeteria where a steaming plate of grilled chicken breast and vegetables awaited, which to his surprise, wasn’t too bad. He ate it all, but made sure to pace himself.
“How was it?” Randy asked.
“Good.”
Randy patted him on the back and said, “I think you’ll go a long way, Baxter. You’ve got the right attitude.”
“Thanks. I feel a lot better.”
“And that feeling will only keep growing if you keep this up. I’m proud of you.”
The doors burst open and a line of kids walked in. Baxter gasped at the sight of them. The thinner kids marched in, a robot-like emptiness in their eyes. Bandages were wrapped around their arms and legs.
Randy patted Baxter on the back again. “You made the right choice, kid.”
* * *
“What’d they do to you guys?”
“They fixed us, or at least started to,” Chris said from his bottom bunk.
Bax
ter couldn’t help but stare at him. The fat surrounding Chris’s face was gone, as if it had been carved away. His clothes hung loose from his thinned-out torso. He must have lost 100 pounds, but Baxter knew that was impossible. What could the counselors possibly have done? Baxter thought. Why the hell am I exercising and eating bland food if I can lose the weight in a day?
“Did it hurt?’
“It was wonderful.”
Chris’s voice was soft, like he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes made Baxter avert his own. He looked around the room and saw that all the kids looked this way, as if lost in a dream. They mumbled to themselves, smiling stupidly.
“You really should come, Baxter. It’s magnificent.”
They all turned their heads to stare at him. Smiling.
One boy stepped out of bed and walked toward Baxter’s bunk. He scratched at his bandages, his smile turned upside down. “Leave. Run away.”
The others swiveled their attention to the boy, their smiles stretched wider.
The bandages grew darker as the boy scratched them, blood seeping through the fabric and dripping to the floor.
“What’s the matter?” Baxter asked.
“Run…!”
He fell to the floor as he twitched and convulsed. Blood gushed from beneath the bandages and pooled around him.
Baxter jumped out of bed and ran to the boy’s side. He couldn’t get a hold of him as the boy’s body shook and writhed. Blood coated the boy’s arms, made it impossible to get a grip.
“Someone help me! Get some help!”
The kids stayed on their beds, grins tight over their faces as they watched the boy buck in his own blood on the floor.
“What’s wrong with you people?” Baxter jumped to his feet and ran out the door. The night air chilled him, turned the blood on his hands cold. “Help! We need help!”
An owl hooted above him, but no other sound came besides bugs and wind.
Suspended In Dusk Page 22
