RE, page 6
She’s certainly going to be surprised when she tries to grade THAT one, Tabitha thought, smiling to herself with satisfaction. I believe they’ll all find my thoughts on how the growing advancement and availability of computer technology might affect the nature of all social interaction in the future… rather prophetic. They’ll also realize that not setting a limit on essay length may be biting off more than they can chew.
School was never my real opponent, though, now, was it? Grimacing, Tabitha, stretching from where she stood on top of the living room chair to reach the mildew on the ceiling with her wet rag.
“Are you even listening to me?” Mrs. Moore demanded, slapping the remote control onto the armrest of the sofa she occupied.
Tabitha paused for a moment, took a deep breath to calm herself, and resumed scrubbing away at the ceiling. Back when she was growing up, her mother possessed a commanding, authoritative presence. Mrs. Moore was one to be feared and respected—and never disobeyed. Now, however, the woman seemed to irrationally be in direct opposition to every single task Tabitha set her mind on, without any logic or reason. Was she always this way? Did I repress all of this?
“I said, I really don’t like all that karate you’re trying to do,” Mrs. Moore called over to her. “You’re just askin’ to hurt yourself, like you did on that trampoline jumper. And I don’t want to ever see you trying to fight with people either!”
“It’s not karate,” Tabitha said, wringing brackish water out of the washcloth and into the waiting bucket perched on the window ledge.
“Karate, kung-fu, whatever it is you think you’re doing.” Her mother shook her head in apparent distaste. “It’s disgraceful seeing you standing out there with your leg up in the air, where everyone can see you.”
“I’m a practitioner of Taekwondo, a Korean martial art known for its emphasis on kicking techniques,” Tabitha explained in a dull voice, wiping absentmindedly at the dirty water trying to trickle down her wrist before returning to scrub the paneling.
“Martial arts, Korea, listen to you. You’re thirteen. You don’t know a damn thing about Korea.”
“I may know more about Korea right now than anyone else alive,” Tabitha muttered under her breath.
“Don’t get smart with me,” Mrs. Moore warned. “I mean it, I don’t want you out there doing who knows what anymore. The neighbors are asking what on God’s green earth you’re up to, and I don’t know what in the world I’m supposed to tell them anymore. So, no more. I don’t want you leaving this house unless—”
“Okay,” Tabitha threw the filthy rag down into her bucket hard enough to splash water out across the clean living room. She stepped off of the chair and dropped heavily to the floor, turned, and finally glared at her mother.
“Fine. Okay. How do you plan on stopping me?”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Moore heaved herself up from her indentation in the sofa.
“How do you plan on stopping me?” Tabitha repeated, her voice going cold as the last of her patience today ran out. “What consequences are in store for me should I refuse to obey? What are you going to do?”
“Tabitha Anne Moore, if you ever speak to me like that again, I’ll tan your sorry—”
“Go ahead,” Tabitha said, and the heavyset thirteen-year-old girl stepped forward. “Try it. Violence might just be the only leverage you have left. Let’s just see if my will breaks before your hands do.”
Stunned by her daughter’s cold indifference, Mrs. Moore was flabbergasted, still deciding how to threaten Tabitha next when her daughter simply stormed out the front door of the trailer, leaving it hanging open behind her.
“Tabitha!” the fat woman exclaimed, stomping to stand in the doorway. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Grandma Laurie’s. Again,” Tabitha answered with a shout, not turning back. “Before either I do something stupid… or you do.”
“You’re thirteen years old; you’re not walking the whole way ‘cross town!” her mother bellowed. “Come back here, right this instant!” Your father’s going to hear about this!”
* * *
Summer sun filtered through the trees overhead as Tabitha jogged along the city sidewalk toward Grandma Laurie’s. Since receiving a talk from Grandma Laurie, Mr. Moore had provisionally agreed to allow Tabitha free rein in both planning their groceries and cooking meals for the family. As a result of that first batch of real food, Tabitha’s energy levels had skyrocketed. Gone were the days of teetering on the brink of exhaustion from failing to scrounge up healthy food—now the fridge was fully stocked with a variety of produce.
All she’d had to do was keep the cost well under their normal budget, and promise they would get more meals out of the purchases, both of which were easy to achieve. The quality of some of the grocery store vegetables was debatable, but Tabitha planned to use even that as a point in favor of at least visiting one of the farmers’ markets nearby.
The only problem was… once again, Tabitha’s mother. The sudden and alarming change in their foodstuffs threw the woman into fits for more reasons than one, and she was perpetually on edge and irritable. As if being robbed of everything she enjoyed eating wasn’t enough, the entire situation came about because Tabitha used Grandma Laurie to pressure Mr. Moore, which totally circumvented Mrs. Moore’s household authority.
I never wanted to take sides in these stupid family squabbles, Tabitha fumed, gritting her teeth. I just want to eat right. Is that so much to ask?!
She knew that her impatience to reshape her life was at fault here, but as she rounded the corner into Grandma Laurie’s familiar neighborhood, she just couldn’t see any other feasible route to take. I can’t live that same life again. I CAN’T. Even if it earns me all of her ire, even if it turns Mom completely against me. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is. Things were going to get bad between us once that blue album comes out anyways.
Tabitha felt her shoulders start to reflexively hunch up at even the thought of that.
“I know I said I’d like to see you more often,” Grandma Laurie called over. “But you’ve been coming by every other day now. Is everything all right?”
“No,” Tabitha admitted honestly, trudging the last few steps of her journey across town and collapsing on her grandmother’s porch step. “Had another argument with that woman.”
“…Ah.” Grandma Laurie sighed, easing out of her chair so that she could sit down on the steps next to Tabitha. “What was it this time?”
“It’s always the same thing, I guess,” Tabby said, staring across the yard. “I’m growing up, and growing up fast. I think I can manage to deal with all of the changes I’m going through. But I don’t think that she can.”
“It’s hard watching your children grow up.” Grandma Laurie nodded, stroking a hand through Tabitha’s hair.
“Do you think I’ll ever have kids?” Tabitha wondered out loud, leaning into her grandmother.
“Well, of course you will, sweetie.” Grandma Laurie laughed, shaking her head as if it was a silly question.
…Huh? Tabitha blinked. What? I know I’m still young now, but… did my relatives actually assume I’d ever find someone? Tabitha had already long since stopped considering it as an option, years and years ago. Well, it still isn’t anything to think about now. Maybe if the right guy appears in my life this time. Then I’ll think about it. After Julie’s older.
“I think I’m going to adopt,” Tabitha said. “When the time’s right. I want things to be perfect. I want to be able to give her everything.”
“Adoption?” It was Grandma Laurie’s turn to be surprised. “That’s always an option too, I suppose.”
“Are the boys home?” Tabitha asked, standing up and brushing leaves off the seat of her sweatpants.
“I’m sure they’re still playing their video games.” Grandma Laurie smiled. “I was just about to take them to the playground so they could burn off all of that energy before I send ‘em on back to their parents.”
“Can I take them?”
“You want to take them to the playground?”
“School’s out for summer really soon.” Tabitha nodded. “I can look after them every other day, so that you can get some peace and quiet.”
“Uh… that’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie,” Grandma Laurie said, surprised again. “But you don’t have to do that. They can be a bit of a handful.”
“You’ve helped me out a lot,” Tabitha said, looking at her grandmother with a serious face. “I meant it when I said I’d find some way to return the favor. Can I do this for you?”
“If that’s what you want.” The older woman chuckled. “You can take them today. I’m not going to pass up a chance for some peace and quiet—why do you think I’m out here on this porch?”
“Thank you,” Tabitha said, enveloping Grandma Laurie in a hug. “I’ll have them back by dark.”
“Oh, trust me—you’re very welcome.”
“Booooys!” Tabitha crossed over to the screen door and called inside, a grin spreading across her features. “Who wants to go play tag at the playground?”
* * *
“Huh,” Tabitha’s history teacher, Mr. Mann, grunted to himself as he graded the exams he’d given his classes. After going out of his way to make the thing obnoxiously difficult—and even throwing in several trick questions—someone had still managed to get a full score. He’d purposely made his test a nightmare to give those damned lazy eighth-graders of his a real kick in the pants.
“Well, s’only one out of all the classes anyhow. Let’s see, who’s our little prodigy… Tabitha Moore? Tabitha… Moore? Wait, isn’t that… that chubby head injury girl from second period? SHE got full marks?
“That… can’t be right…?” He flipped the paper back over with a frown, intent on double-checking all of her written answers again, more closely this time.
5
THE TRIALS OF SUMMER
As the pounds steadily disappeared, Tabitha found that everything was becoming easier. What began in her first days as a walk became a slow jog, and then a run. By now, her daily run was laced with sprints to get her heart rate up, and even that didn’t feel like enough. Holes had worn into the crease of her sneakers where they bent with her step, and she had to superglue the soles several times as they were starting to peel off.
Over the course of her summer before high school, she spent a large fraction of time visiting Grandma Laurie, wishing only that she’d appreciated the woman more in her past lifetime. They had so much in common! Although she’d initially planned on making long treks to the city library to start writing her novels, Goblina and Goblin Princess, she found herself too distracted with stopping over every other day to chat, and then dutifully taking her four cousins to the playground.
There, they played the most ubiquitous game in existence across playgrounds everywhere: tag. Despite her initial overweight appearance, Tabitha had an uncanny ability to predict the timing of their lunges, and was able to outmaneuver her opponents into being cornered when she was ‘it.’ As time went on and her weight steadily fell, her increasing speed and stamina made her almost unbeatable. When they started playing team tag, she took only the youngest cousin, Joshua, onto her side to even the odds.
Eventually, the teams seemed set at all four boys against her; any one of the boys could tag her for a win, but then she had to tag out all four in succession. She never thought herself above playing with the children; the boys loved having someone to play with. Besides, scampering around in an energetic young body—one that became a little better-looking and more able with each passing day—was simply intoxicating.
What affected Tabitha’s increasingly positive mentality the most, however, was seeing that new face in her mirror every day, trying out hesitant smiles. Over the weeks, as the fat began to recede from her face, a surprisingly lovely young woman was emerging somehow from within. A girl with features she could vainly admire for hours, if she didn’t stop herself.
Whatever asinine genetic trait it was that had stored so much fat in her face had gradually been overcome by Tabitha’s zealous weight-loss regimen. Her neck had gone from being a bulbous distraction to a slender thing, and her chin and the line of her jaw looked more defined and appealing to her every single day.
The incessant burning of every stored calorie her nonstop efforts could reach seemed to have a direct impact on every aspect of her body. Rather than her old toad-like blob of a nose, the center of her face was now adorned instead by a cute button nose. Her figure—not slim yet by any means, but definitely slimmer. Tabitha’s eyes looked bright now, large and expressive now that her cheeks had slimmed down and the very proportions of her face were changed.
Unfortunately, Tabitha wasn’t sure exactly what her current weight was at. Weighing herself twice a mere ten minutes apart had revealed a fourteen-pound difference! Which was, obviously, impossible.
To her dismay, she realized that accidentally shifting or nudging their beaten old bathroom scale at all would yield a drastically different result when next stood upon. None of the flooring in the trailer was level, the patchwork plywood and particleboard beneath their linoleum and carpets all uneven in different ways and angles. Which meant now she was no longer confident in what her initial weight had actually been, or how it would be best to calibrate the scale without something of exactly predetermined weight.
As much as the visual results of her tireless effort put a smile on her face, however, it wasn’t all good news. She was constantly aching all over, and it was evident that the rapid weight loss was dangerous, because it was wreaking havoc on her young body. The first menstrual cycle of her new life had come and gone, and it was very irregular from what she’d ever remembered having.
Enough to send her into a mild panic. If she were to classify the periods throughout her past life, they would rank into simple light, or heavy. This one was a weird thanks for trying, or maybe a reply hazy, try again later.
Well, deal with it, body, Tabitha scoffed to herself. I know what I’m doing isn’t very healthy—but what about my mental health? I NEED to change. So what if it throws off my cycle? I don’t have time for your bullshit anymore anyways, uterus. AT BEST, you were nothing but dead weight to me; an obnoxious monthly inconvenience that I lugged around for no reason for almost sixty years! Don’t go thinking that I won’t just go get those tubes tied this time through. I totally will. I’ll do it, just try me!
* * *
“Sweetie… I know you’re going through a lot of changes right now,” Mr. Moore began awkwardly, frowning. “But you don’t have to try to do everything all at once, okay?”
“…Are you trying to discourage me from improving my life?” Tabitha asked, pausing mid-pushup. She held herself there, waiting for his answer. An uncomfortable distance had formed between her and her parents. She didn’t know how to act when she was around them, and in turn, they seemed to have no idea how to treat her. Mrs. Moore was caught up in following the explosive Monica Lewinsky/Clinton scandal that was dominating the news, and her father was… well, he was trying.
“Of course not, I—it’s just—well.” He sighed. “Can you sit up so we can talk properly?”
She completed her pushup, then rose to meet his eyes. She knew she was drastically thinner than he was used to seeing, as though she’d shrunken a size, all over, and it was obvious that it was worrying him.
“We… don’t think it’s healthy, you losing weight this fast,” he said. “You’ve been at this for weeks now. You’re working out, what, five? Six hours a day? You’ll kill yourself, sweetie.”
“Six hours a day,” she admitted, sliding a notebook out from beneath her bed. “Which is another way of saying that I’m also resting the other eighteen hours every day. My exercises rotate through different muscle groups throughout the week to prevent excessive damage. I wrote myself up a schedule, if you’d like to take a look. It may ease your concerns.” She passed the notebook up to him.
“I, uh… still don’t think that—holy cow,” he mumbled, looking at the fitness routines, repetitions, hours and numbers she’d crammed the pages with. “This is… well, sweetie, what are you—where are you going with all of this? Are you aimin’ to become an athlete?”
“No,” Tabitha said, looking away. “I want to be pretty, for just once in my life. I know all of this must seem… impatient, to you, but I’m done waiting for some fantasy dream world where I’m beautiful and things work out and I matter. Dad, I’m going to make it all happen.”
“I believe you can too, sweetie,” he said after a long moment of silence. “You know we love you just the way you are though, right? No matter how you look.”
“I know what you think. And… I tried that. It didn’t work out,” she said in more of a brisk tone than she’d intended. Feeling a little ashamed of herself, she dropped back down and positioned herself to resume the push-ups. “I’m… sorry. I love you too, Daddy.”
“How about I take you out this weekend, get you some new clothes,” he offered. “Since you seem hell bent on changin’ yer whole figure before high school.”
“I’d… I’d love that, thank you.” Tabitha heaved herself back up and rocked back to sit on her heels. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
* * *
As Tabitha leapt up into the air and snapped out a neat and precise jump-kick, the most she felt now was a slight, almost imperceptible wobble, rather than that unpleasant jiggle from several weeks ago. Landing steadily, she twisted positions and performed a low cross-hand block with both arms. Though she’d lost a significant amount of weight and was finally seeing it in the mirror, the pounds weren’t exactly melting away. Rather, they were being wrung out of her, exhausted out of her through the rigors of her exercise and diet plan.
I feel like I need to be doing even MORE, though, Tabitha thought, unable to shake the anxious feeling that’d been plaguing her. She was working through her exercise rotation, she was practicing her katas, and running to Grandma Laurie’s and then playing with the cousins made for good cardio in between. What else can I do?
