A famous My 600-Pound Life nurse, halfway to looking like that creepy puppet Lady Elaine Fairchilde from Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, opens the door of the waiting room and calls out, “Shelby Grace.”
Shelby Grace struggles to get out of the chair almost as much as she struggled to get into the chair. “Help me, Lawrence,” she says. He yanked on her arm and there was a friction-fueled pop sound. “Lordy, they need to make these chairs bigger,” Shelby Grace said.
They followed the nurse into the room where they weigh the patients.
“Please wait while I reset the scale,” the nurse says. Moments later. “Go on and step up on the scale.
Dramatic and impatient music plays in Lawrence’s head as he watches the digital display on the scale blink.
Then … “You’re weight is 540.”
Lawrence releases a shocked sigh. “Damn, Shelby Grace.”
“We’re going to room 5,” the nurse says.
Once inside the examination room, Shelby Grace begins to cry. “I just can’t believe it. How did I let this happen?”
“How?” Lawrence says. “I should have videotaped you on this road trip. Eating like a damn hippopotamus with wooden teeth, that’s how.”
There is a light knocking and Dr. Now walks in. “Hello, how are you all doing?”
“Good,” they say in unison.
“Where you all coming from today?”
“Charlie Brown, Tennessee,” Lawrence proudly boasts.
“Charlie Brown, Tennessee, huh. Do you have towns there in Tennessee called Peppermint Patty and Pigpen.”
Lawrence chuckles. “No, but we got plenty of towns that look like pigpens.”
Dr. Now doesn’t think it’s funny and turns his attention to his patient. “Okay. So, you must be Shelby Grace.”
“Ye, sir.”
“Says here you are 540 pounds today.” He moves his head around as he and looks her up and down. “Seems like most of that is in your rear-end. How did you let this happen?”
Shelby Grace wipes a tear away with a finger, sniffles. “I don’t know. I just love to eat. I suppose it fills some sort of void in my life.”
“So, you’re an emotional eater,” Dr. Now says.
“I guess I am.”
“Okay, so what are your eating habits like?”
“Too much junk,” Lawrence blurts out. “She eats like a hippopotamus with wooden teeth.”
Dr. Now looks at him, displeased with the answer. “I don’t think hippopotamus has wooden teeth, but I do wonder who brings her the food. Is it you…”
“This is my cousin Lawrence, Shelby Grace says. “Don’t listen to what he says, he’s an idiot.”
“Okay, okay,” Dr. Now begins. “We are not going to get anywhere with your weight problem by calling each other names. I sense a very dysfunctional dynamic here. But let’s get back to your eating habits. What do you usually have for breakfast, Shelby Grace.”
“Well, mostly some yogurt with fruit.”
Lawrence bursts out laughing. “Bullshit! You don’t even have yogurt in your house. It’s more like a platter of eggs, bacon, biscuits, hash browns, breakfast burritos, ham steaks, sometimes regular steak, cheese puffs…”
“Okay, okay. I get the picture,” Dr. Now says. “And who is bringing you all this food?”
“I live alone, except for my dog Testicles.”
Dr. Now holds up an aged hand. “Hold on. You have a dog named Testicles?”
“Yes.”
“I think that is gross and suggest you name him something else,” Dr. Now says. “I’m going to set up an appointment with a therapist while you are here in Houston to help you work through your emotional problems that lead you to eat too much.”
“Okay.”
“So, who brings you the food?”
“I usually cook it myself or have Door Dash bringing me something.”
“Okay, obviously you are obsessed with fast food. That has to stop starting today. You are killing yourself with food… So, what is your daily routine?”
“I get up, shower, cook myself breakfast. Then I go to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a pharmacy technician at a hospital.”
“So, you must be up on your feet all day running around.”
Shelby Grace shrugs. “Not really. I’m no Jennifer.”
“Is Jennifer a friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
Lawrence chuckles. “She has no friends.”
“Hush up, Lawrence,” Shelby Grace snaps. “I do so have friends. You don’t know everything about my life.”
“I know you don’t have any friends.”
‘Okay,” Dr. Now steps in. “Lawrence, you need to settle down or I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room.”
“I’m sorry. But she shouldn’t be lying.”
“I’m not…”
“That’s enough you two… Now listen to me. I’m going to give you some materials that I want you to read every day. It will have information about proper diet and exercise. Over the next three months I want you to lose 90 pounds. If you can do that, I will consider you for weight loss surgery, and you can start making plans to move to Houston. All right? And in the meantime, if you need anything just give me a call.”
The therapist’s waiting room smelled like disinfected brains. Shelby Grace sat alone, spread out over two chairs. Lawrence was waiting in the car. A door opened and a little man with glasses and a nice gray sweater came out. “Shelby Grace?”
“Yes.”
He extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Paradise. Come on in.”
Shelby Grace went into his office and sat down on a comfortable rich man’s couch.
“So, tell me about Shelby Grace,” Dr. Paradise began. “Why are you here?”
“There’s not much to tell?”
Dr. Paradise glances at her body. “Well, you are obviously here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me why you think you eat so much?”
Shelby Grace shrugged. She looked all around his impeccable office, and then back to him, the small man in the chair. She thought it was all very weird. She was uncomfortable. “I think I eat so much because I’m trying to fill a void in my life.”
“Okay. Describe this void you’re talking about.”
“I’m not married, obviously. Why would anyone want to marry me? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Do you have any close friends or family in your life?”
“My family all live in Alabama. We don’t see each other much. But there’s my good friend Jennifer. We work together at the hospital. We’re always cutting up and laughing. She’s so much fun.”
Dr. Paradise smiles and nods his head. “Okay. So, you’re working. You have a good friend at work. Those are two very positive things in your life. And those are the things I really want you to focus on. Look away from the food, and look at the good things in your life… What else.”
“I have a nice little apartment where I live with my dog Testicles.”
“Wait a minute,” Dr. Paradise says, holding up a small hand. He smiles out loud. “You have a dog named Testicles?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well. Obviously you are able to support yourself and maintain a home and care for a pet. Those are three more positive things. But the name of the dog.” He laughs. “You should probably change that.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Fair enough.”
“Are we almost done?”
“Sure. But my homework for you is to keep a running list of all the good things about your life. I want you to hang it up somewhere and every time you are down and want to reach for some junk food, look at the list. Tell yourself you are worth it, tell yourself you are better than having a rear end the size of a dumpster.”
Shelby Grace stood up as he did, and they shook hands. His hand felt so tiny in hers. It gave her the timber shivers. “It was good meeting you, Shelby Grace.”
“You too, Dr. Paradise. Thank you for the five-minute therapy session that will end up costing me 400 dollars.”
By
Aaron Echoes August
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She didn’t know where to look the moment she stepped inside Fidel Architect the architect’s glamorous home and its modern mid-century rustic vibe. Her head nearly twisted off. She was stunned by the indoor waterfall and the size of the kitchen and all its shiny toys to cook and clean with.
“You really live here?”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“I have a cat.”
There was a meow, as if on cue. The girl had found him and was petting him roughly. “He’s a nice kitty,” she said.
“That’s Bergen,” Fidel said. “I named him after the coastal city in Norway where I have a summer house.”
“You have two houses?”
“I mean, yes. I make a very good living being an architect. But the home in Norway is much smaller.”
She rolled her eyes and half-smiled. “Must be rough.”
The cat ran off and soon the girl was up and chasing it around, all the while screaming.”
“Hey! Don’t do that, and you better not break anything,” Fidel called out after her. “If you do, I’m going to break you! And be quiet and don’t hurt the cat.”
“You don’t need to talk to her like that. She’s just a little girl.”
“So…”
“You’ve got some nerve.”
“Yes I do. Lots of them in fact. All over my body. I bet you could set some on fire.”
She scoffed, turned away in embarrassment, and that’s when she noticed the wall of picture frames. Family photos, she thought, and went to take a closer look. But upon further inspection, she realized the pictures were all of Fidel. Every single one. Thirteen of them to be exact, and in each one he was striking a different pose, a different expression, sporting a different hairstyle, and wearing different clothes. He had an entire wall dedicated to pictures of himself.
“What is this about?” she asked him, pointing to the photos.
“Ah, yes. I see you’ve discovered my wall of self-admiration.”
She laughed. “Are you serious?”
Fidel’s face became non-expressive. “Yes. I am. Don’t you like it? It’s a collage reflecting my life as a human being. It celebrates my highs and lows, my successes and rare failures, and how my expressions react to diverse situations. I’m going to add more over time.”
“You’re going to need a bigger wall.”
“I sense that you think it’s stupid,” Fidel said.
“It’s just that I’ve never seen someone hang pictures of just themselves. It’s kind of arrogant if you want my honest opinion.”
“Arrogant? It’s not arrogant. It’s me being proud of the person I am and wanting to display that for all to see,” Fidel said.
“Get many visitors?”
Fidel thought about it for a moment. “Usually just hot prostitutes.”
She moved away from him. He had been uncomfortably close to her. She figured he must have some kind of disease. “Congratulations?”
“You’re mocking me. Fidel doesn’t like to get mocked.”
“It’s just kind of weird, but hey, to each his own, right?”
“That’s right. Please don’t judge me for just being who I am… And by the way, who are you? What kind of a name do you have?” Fidel asked her.
“Kind of name?”
“Yeah. Is it a stupid name?”
“It’s Angela, and I don’t think it’s a stupid name.”
“Angela… You must be an angel.” He signaled with one finger for her to be quiet while he reached for his phone. He play dialed it. “Yes. Is this Heaven? Good. Well, I just wanted to let you know I found one of your angels on the loose. But don’t worry, she’s about to be in my arms.”
He set his phone aside and pulled her to him. He kissed her. She surprised herself and kissed him back.
“Eww,” the little girl said from some hidden spot. “Mommy! You just met him.”
They both laughed out loud like human Cheez-Its.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can spank you, too,” Fidel said to the girl with all seriousness. “Seems like your mother here doesn’t really know how to discipline you or teach you not to run around like a wild dog in a stranger’s house. You need to learn some manners.”
The girl quieted down. Angela looked at him with subtle outrage. “I’ll discipline my own daughter how I see fit, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, okay, baby cakes. I was just trying to get the kid to settle down. What do you feed her anyway? Cocaine?”
Angela rolled her eyes at him and scoffed, but she enjoyed the kiss too much to cut her visit short. She was overwhelmingly unsure about the whole thing. But she still needed something in her life. A spark. An interest. A project. “Why don’t you go outside and play,” she told her daughter. Something besides just being a struggling single mother.
“Just don’t trample over my ornamental garden beds,” Fidel said to the girl. “I’ll throw you over a wall and onto the interstate if you do.”
The girl was scared of him now. She went to her mother and wrapped her small arms around one of Angela’s legs. Angela petted her head to soothe her. “Go on. Go play.”
The girl scampered off toward the lower patio doors. Fidel went to help her open them. “I’ll be watching you,” he said before she slipped out. He closed the doors and locked them. The girl outside turned to look at him. Her face was peppered with concern. Fidel slid two fingers across his throat in a menacing slicing manner. The girl ran off and Fidel laughed out loud.
When he returned to Angela, she had a beer in her hand. Heineken. “Ever hear of asking first,” he said.
She took a long pull on the green bottle. “You know, sometimes that straightforwardness of yours can come off as rude.”
“It’s not rude. I’m honest. Why is everyone so afraid of honesty?”
“Honesty doesn’t need to always spew out like lava.”
“Lava?”
“Like, hot and burning and destructive.”
“I’m not destructive.”
“You are. You totally destroyed my daughter earlier with the way you talked to her. I’m not cool with that. I’m not sure I want to stay.”
He reached out and took the beer bottle from her. He put her now empty hand on his crotch and pulsed his bulge. “Are you cool with that?” he said to her with a sly look on his face.
She waited a moment before she pulled her hand away from the throbbing warmth. “You’re moving way too fast for me. I’m getting uncomfortable. Maybe I should leave after all.”
She started to walk away toward the patio doors to call for her daughter. Fidel went after her and jumped on her back, forcing her to the floor face first.
“What the fuck are you doing!” she screamed.
He turned her over and pinned her down with his knees. “Are we having fun yet?” he grinned.
She tried to kick him between the legs. He laughed at her useless effort. “You’ll never hurt me, baby cakes.” He grasped one of her breasts and squeezed it. But then Fidel looked up and saw the little girl on the other side of the glass. She was crying and trying to open the heavy sliding doors.
Fidel grinned at her like an evil clown. “Mommy and I are just wrestling, honey,” he yelled through the glass. “Don’t worry. We’re playing.” He ferociously tickled Angela in a torturous way and her entire body convulsed, and she cried out. “Stop it! Stop it!”
The girl pounded on the glass with her tiny fist. “Mommy!” she called out in a voice muffled by the barrier.
Fidel finally moved off of her. He reached out a hand to help her up. She clasped it. “You’re an asshole,” she said.
“I was just playing with you.”
“Didn’t seem like playing to me.”
She went to the doors and let her daughter in. The girl clutched her mother as she cried. “I want to go home.”
“We are, honey, we are.” She gathered her things and made her way to the front door.
“Hey,” Fidel called out. “No police, okay. I have a reputation to uphold.”
She gave him a confounded look and shook her head. “You’re sick, bro,” she said.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
“Thank you. Thank you for what?”
“For a great time, the beer, letting you squeeze my penis.”
“You’re a pig.”
“There’s that word again. Pig. Why do women keep calling me a pig?”
“Probably because you are one.”
“Well, I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion.”
“Fuck off,” was the last thing she said to him before her and the girl walked out.
By
Aaron Echoes August
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Josiah climbed out of the car. He had been feeling nervous about just sitting in a stolen vehicle. He needed to stretch his legs, anyway. He strolled around the hospital parking lot for a while enjoying the sunshine, the smell of spring, and his freedom. But something was nagging at him. He wanted to see Sarrah, to apologize in person. But he knew that would be a violation of some sort. He thought about sneaking in and maybe just catching a peek at her. But what about Paul? He’d be swooning over her. And he’d be angry with him, perhaps even send him back to the jailhouse.
Josiah made his way into the hospital’s main entrance and looked around. A woman behind a counter called out to his puzzlement, “Is there something I can help you with?”
Josiah approached. “I want to see my wife,” he said.
“What’s her name?”
“Sarrah Peppercorn.”
The woman’s eyes darted back and forth across a computer screen as she tapped the keyboard. “Fifth floor. You need to check-in at the nurse’s station, though.”
“Fifth floor. Thanks.”
Josiah went to the elevator and went up to FIVE. The doors slid open. He looked up and down the hall. People were mingling in whispers and tears. This must be the floor where people come to die, he thought. It smelled funny, like sickness and sterility.
“Sir? Is there something you are looking for?”
Everyone’s watching me, he thought. He approached the nurse’s station. “My wife, Sarrah Peppercorn?”
She pointed. “Room 13.”
“Thank you.”
Josiah moved down the hallway until he found room 13. He peered in carefully. He saw a woman in a bed, motionless with machines making soft noises around her. Paul was nowhere to be seen. He went in and quietly closed the door. Josiah went to her bedside and looked down at his wife. What used to be his wife, he thought. Her face was half bandaged, the other half swollen, bruised. “Oh, my god,” Josiah softly said. “I did that?”
She moved her head and noticed him there. One eye was visible. She tried to smile. She spoke out a dry mouth. “It was the rabbit,” Sarrah managed to say.
Josiah reached out to hold her hand. “The rabbit?”
“I was attacked by a giant, cerulean-blue rabbit man.”
Josiah thought that she must be delirious. “Well, the rabbit man is gone now, and I’m here with you.”
“How was jail?” Sarrah snarked.
“It was horrible,” he answered. “Sarrah. I don’t have much time,” Josiah began. “I’m not really supposed to be in here. But I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. I’m constructing a new man from the inside out. And I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry for who I’ve been. I hope you can forgive me and maybe even possibly take me back as your husband.”
She looked at him and smacked her mouth. “Water.”
He took the yellow plastic cup from the bedside table and held it to her lips. She drank. He kissed her softly on the head. “I love you,” he said.
She blinked at him but did not reply.
“I have to go now,” Josiah said. “But has Paul been by to see you?”
“Paul? Not that I know of.”
Josiah half-smiled at her. “I’ll see you around,” he said, and then he quietly went out of the room.
As Josiah walked across the parking lot and back to the stolen car, he could see that someone was in the driver’s seat. Paul must have changed his mind about seeing Sarrah, he thought. That was good. But as Josiah got closer to the car, he realized the body in the front seat was much larger than Paul. The passenger door swung open. Something reached out and easily snatched Josiah and pulled him into the car. There was a strange smell. Animalistic.
“Put on your seatbelt,” the thing said.
Josiah was stunned. “Who the hell are you? What the hell are you?” he asked, clawing at the window in fear.
“Quiet!” the thing said in a low drawn-out voice.
The cerulean rabbit started the car, put it into gear, and drove away. Josiah was screaming, but there was no sound for anyone to hear.
Serena wiggled her nose like a witch, and somehow the ropes loosened, and they were able to slip free.
“How did you do that?” the reverend wanted to know.
“It suddenly came to me, like a whisper. It must have been your prayer,” Serena said excitedly. “He listened to you after all and then spoke to me. Me.”
The padre shot a look at the sky and wondered. The stars blinked back. Then he looked down at the ground. It was so dark save for a glint of moonlight crawling along. “We’ll have to be extremely careful coming down from this tree,” he said. “I’ll go first, and you follow right after me. I’ll be here to stop you if you start to fall.”
“I’m not afraid,” Serena said.
Once they got their feet back on solid ground, they scanned the area for any sign of the rabbit creature. Serena sniffed the air. “I don’t smell him anymore.”
“He must have gone off somewhere,” the reverend said. “Are you scared?”
“Not anymore,” Serena said. “I feel strangely at peace. I think it’s because God chose to speak to me. Me... Are you scared?”
“No. But something mysterious is surely afoot,” he said. “And you, young lady, may be a prophet.”
“A prophet! I would love to be a prophet. It would be so much better than just being an old plain Jane.”
The reverend laughed. “You’re not so plain.”
“Thanks… Are you ready to carry on?”
“Yes. Let us carry on.”
Their quick pace slowed halfway. It was peaceful and calm in the middle of the meadow. The sky was open there and the moon brighter. The far mountains were colored blueberry. Reverend Savior bent over, put his hands on his knees and spat at the ground. His breathing was ferocious.
“Are you okay?” Serena asked. “You sound horrible.”
“I’m fine… I just need to catch my breath.”
Serena twirled beneath the stars. “It’s wonderful to be a prophet,” she said. “Thank you, God, for choosing me.”
The reverend straightened and looked at her.
“Just remember, being a prophet is serious business.”
She smiled at him. “It can’t be all serious,” she said. “I’m sure prophets enjoy things in life, too.”
The reverend chuckled. “Maybe you’re right… I think I’m ready to keep going now,” he said, and together they made their way back toward the black scrape of paint on the horizon that was the farmhouse, a place that must be home for someone.
By
Aaron Echoes August
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A table of ass juts out from her backside. People call her the Lunch Lady because a person could put their tray of food right up on there, pull up a chair, and eat. She just needs to be still for a spell and not do anything nasty.
Shelby Grace works in the pharmacy of a hospital in Charlie Brown, Tennessee. She’s not very good at her job because she moves like a sloth high on grass. She’s single and lives alone in an apartment near her work with her dog Testicles. She likes to eat a lot as she watches My 600-Pound Life on Discovery Channel.
“How you all doing?” she says, mimicking Dr. Now. Food sprays out of her mouth as she does this. Testicles the dog runs away and hides. He thinks she’s gross. He wishes he could live somewhere else.
Shelby Grace, (aka Dinner Plate, aka the Lunch Lady, aka Butt Restaurant…) sits back for a moment and looks at the disgusting array of plates and bowls and cups in front of her on the coffee table. “I eat way too much,” she confesses to herself. “I think I need help.” There was a closeup of Dr. Now on the screen and Shelby Grace then realizes that he is talking to her through the television: “Shelby Grace, your eating habits are out of control. Stop lying. Look at your body. I could have a sit-down meal on your rear end. You eat way too much food. If you want weight loss surgery, you’re going to have to show me you are motivated and invested in your own health…Do you understand?”
Shelby Grace haphazardly stands up. “That’s it! I’m going to go see Dr. Now. He’ll help me,” she exclaims with a victory pump of her fist over her head. “Yes, Dr. Now! I understand, and I promise you this. I’m going to be the best patient you ever had.”
Her cousin Lawrence helps her pack the car for the long trip to Houston. He’s going to be her driver and personal life coach along the journey.
Shelby Grace comes out of the apartment with the last of her things. Testicles the dog will be looked after by a neighbor, and he’s so happy that he wags his tail ferociously as he watches from the living room window as her and Lawrence pull away. He barks with joy. Solitude at last!
“It’s going to be a long drive,” Lawrence says to her once they are on the interstate.
“Mmm hmm, says Shelby Grace. “How about we stop for something to eat before we get too far along.”
“Come on now Shelby Grace, you got to stop eating so much. Dr. Now is going to be pissed off if you go waddling in there smelling like French fries.”
She slaps his arm. “Lawrence, I swear. You’re supposed to be supporting me, not putting me down.”
“And you’re supposed to be focusing on losing weight, not on fast food alley up in here.”
Shelby Grace looks at her watch and sighs. “Well, I suppose that orange rapist ass clown is in the White House by now.”
Lawrence wants to slam his head against the steering wheel until he’s unconscious. “Fuck him, and we’re not going to talk about it anymore.”
And they don’t.
Instead, Shelby Grace convinces Lawrence to go through a Wendy’s drive-thru. “I promise this will be the very last time,” she says.
Lawrence shrugs her off. “Yeah, right.” He pulls up to the menu that talks. “Hi, we’d like to get two double hamburgers with everything, two orders of large fries, two large Cokes…”
She leans across him and yells into the menu speaker. “Oh, oh, and a large Frosty, and um, you better add another burger, oh, a 20-piece Saucy Nuggs, and a parmesan Caesar salad.”
“Shelby Grace! You’re the size of a Dumpster,” Lawrence scolds. “Do you want to be the size of two Dumpsters”
“I’m hungry!”
“Dr. Now is going to whoop your ass!”
“Lawrence! He is not. He’s a nice little man. Just like that cat our neighbors have, Gumdrop.”
“Well, I’d rather pet a nice kitty named Gumdrop than a dog named Testicles.”
“It’s cute.”
“It’s gross.”
They pull around and bags and cups are soon handed through the window. “Thank you, thank you, thank you” Lawrence says to the drive-thru girl.
And then, they are off again.
Shelby Grace is covered in food stains by the time they reach Memphis, and she wants to stop for the day. “I can’t take anymore of this. My big butt hurts.”
“What the hell!? We’ve only gone but 200 and some miles, Shelby Grace. At this pace we won’t get there until next week.”
“I don’t care, Lawrence. I’m tired. Find us a hotel.”
He does what she says and pulls into the first decent place he sees, a Holiday Inn. Lawrence goes in to get a room lined up while Shelby Grace stays in the car and moans and groans. “Oh, lordy, lordy, why did I think I could do this? Lawrence! Hurry up now. I got to lie down on a bed.”
Lawrence returns and helps her hobble to the room. He goes back out to retrieve their things while Shelby Grace sprawls out on one of the beds like a beached whale.
When Lawrence returns with their bags, he finds Shelby Grace looking through her phone. “I want to order a pizza,” she says to him.
Lawrence drops the bags to the floor. “A pizza! Shelby Grace, you’re going to gain 100 pounds before we even get there.”
“Oh, hush. I’m cranky and hungry. Do you want one?”
“A whole pizza!? Hell no, girl. I’ll just get something from the snack machine.” With that, Lawrence walks out of the room and slams the door.
Lawrence stands outside the hotel drinking a 7-Up and smoking a Kool cigarette. He’s trying to quit, but this trip is already proving to be too much for his fragile nerves. The Memphis air is stagnant. The stars above are mostly blotted out by the light pollution. He can hear the roar of traffic out on the interstate. For a moment he ponders just getting in the car and leaving her behind. It’s a momentary thought, though. He knows his conscience could never handle the guilt. He is a good man deep down inside.
A while later he watches as the pizza delivery man gets out of his little car with the pizza delivery sign on top. He calls to him. “I’ll take it,” he says, and then pays him. Lawrence takes the pizza up to the room.
Shelby Grace immediately comes to life when she sees him. “Pizza!” she exclaims. He hands her the box, and she scrambles to open it and then begins feasting like a starving animal.
The next day they make it as far as Texarkana. Lawrence takes aspirin. They go through the same routine: Fast food for lunch, a cigarette and soda outside the hotel, a pizza in the room.
In the morning before heading out on their last leg to Houston, Shelby Grace is hugging the toilet and throwing up. Lawrence peeks his head in. “It’s your own fault for eating so much,” he says.
“Shut your mouth!” she squawks. “I’m sick. Have some sympathy, Lawrence.”
“We got to get going if we’re ever going to make it to Houston today.”
She vomits, then looks up at him, eyes watering, mouth gross. “Not today. I can’t travel today.”
“What!? Then what are we going to do all day?”
“Pay for another night and let me rest.”
“Another night? Ah shit, Shelby Grace. You’re driving me nuts and bankrupting me all at the same time.” He watches as she struggles to get up from her place on the bathroom floor between the toilet and the tub.
“Lawrence, help me. I’m stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“Yes, stuck. Pull on my arm.”
Lawrence grabs her arm and together they try to unwedge her. “Ah, that hurts!” Shelby Grace yells. “Easy, easy.”
“Hell, Shelby Grace, if you want me to help you I got to pull.”
“All right, all right,” she huffs and puffs. “Try again.”
He pulls on her arm once more, but her weight is just too much, her big tabletop butt is stuck. “I can’t do it. You’re too heavy and your butt is too big. I told you not to eat all that god damn food. Now look at the situation you’re in. I’m just going to have to leave you here until you lose some weight.”
Shelby Grace screams in a panic. “Shut your mouth! Shut your mouth! Save me, save me!”
“Just hold on, Shelby Grace. Quit having a meltdown. I’ll go down to the front desk and see if a maintenance man or somebody can help me get you out.”
“No, no! Don’t do that. It’s too embarrassing.”
“So, I should just leave you here?”
She starts crying.
“Maybe I should. Teach you a lesson.”
“Get my laptop, Lawrence.”
“Your laptop. Why?”
“I want to video call Dr. Now.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I need someone to talk to who won’t yell at me.”
Lawrence releases a frustrating sigh. “Fine.”
Dr. Now appears on the screen of her laptop that’s set up on the toilet cover. “Hello. How are you doing?”
“Hi Dr. Now. Not very well, I’m afraid.”
“So, what’s going on with you, Shelby Grace? You were supposed to be here today for your appointment.”
“I’m sorry Dr. Now. We’ve had some travel delays and I’ve been sick.”
“Sick how?”
“Stomach problems.”
“What kind of stomach problems?”
“Throwing up, nausea.”
“What have your eating habits been like on the trip so far?”
“Not very good. Fast food, mostly. Pizzas.”
“Okay, now listen to me. You cannot eat all that horrible food if you want to be in my program. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, when do you expect to get to Houston?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve run into another snag.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I’m stuck between the toilet and the tub at our hotel room. I can’t get out.” Shelby Grace starts crying.
“Stuck?” Dr. Now replies. “How did you get stuck?”
“I’ve been sick like I said. I got down on the floor to vomit. Now, I can’t get back up.”
“Okay, Shelby Grace. Listen to me. You need to do whatever it takes to get unstuck and then get down to Houston. This is your life we are talking about. Quit making excuses.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, let me know when you get to Houston. And in the meantime, if you need anything else, give me a call.”
“Thank you, Dr. Now. Goodbye.”
He disappears from the screen and Shelby Grace shuts her laptop and throws it across the bathroom.
CEREAL AFTER SEX 