You can put the knife down, Umber, I've brought you more Miki.
Please enjoy, and as always, comments are appreciated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just as expected, Aaron is sitting on a bench near the gym entrance, waiting for my arrival.
“Did you get my breakfast?” he asks as I approach.
I roll my eyes. I’m not sure why I was expecting anything else from him.
“I brought you some microwaved pancakes. Sound good?”
I hand over the Styrofoam container, tiny streams of syrup dripping from the slim opening. Aaron wastes little time in wolfing it down.
“Scrumptious,” he says through a mouthful of battered goodness. “It almost makes up for the fact that I woke up two hours earlier than usual and had to put pants on. So where’s Taro? I thought he’d be here by now.”
“I texted him earlier, he said he read about some pre-workout stretches online the other day and wanted to try them out.”
Aaron scoffs under his breath, clearly upset about the precious minutes of sleep he was robbed of.
“Hey, try to be patient with the guy, alright? He’s really trying.”
“I don’t doubt it. Anybody who wants to spend time with you in the morning has to be dedicated.”
I flash him the good ol’ one finger salute and continue on.
“Just promise you won’t go all Full Metal Jacket on him?”
“I don’t have nearly enough drive to be a drill sergeant, don’t worry.”
We nod to each other in understanding. Another five minutes pass by with no sign of Taro. It’s not like him to be this late, and admittedly I’m beginning to get a little frustrated. Just to be sure, I try to dial him again. No response.
“Screw this, do you want to go look for him?” I ask, exasperated.
Aaron shrugs and gets to his feet. As we begin our way back towards the dorms, I come to a rather important realization.
“You don’t know where his room is, do you?” my partner asks, revealing his secret life as a mind-reading wizard. I give him a thumbs up that’s supposed to encourage him, but instead just confirms to him that I have no idea what I’m doing and he should have just stayed in bed.
Upon realizing something, I turn to confront him. “Wait, aren't you in the boy’s dorm? You should know more about where Taro is than me!”
“Oh, sure, let me just jump into my memory banks and bring out the entire floor plan of the dorms that I can totally remember because that’s not a completely stupid suggestion.”
“I know my way around my dorm!”
“Is that why you had to ask Molly where the bathroom was when we were all in your room watching Sherlock?”
I give him a stink eye and snatch his last pancake.
“I was going to eat that,” he states matter-of-factly. I respond to his pleas by mocking him and shoving his pancake into my mouth. Is it harsh? Yeah. But so’s life.
He rolls his eyes. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?” he asks me.
“I ate some ice cream sandwiches in the shower earlier.”
“... Say that back to me.”
“I ate some ice cream sandwiches in the shower earlier.”
“You... can’t eat ice cream sandwiches in the shower.”
“What’s your source on that?”
“What?”
“Did anyone ever say ‘You can’t eat ice cream sandwiches in the shower’?”
“No, but--”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, shut up.”
The sheer force of my logic bomb leaves him speechless as we make our way into the dorms. It takes a bit of asking around, but we manage to pry the location of Taro’s room from some boys hanging out by the snack machine.
“Maybe he got stuck in the door,” says one of them, to a round of laughs from his friends. It turns out to be on the first floor, and is only a little ways away from the entrance. I can’t tell if that’s simply a coincidence or not.
“You knock,” Aaron suggests to me once we reach his door. “He wouldn't recognize me.”
I shrug and take a crack at bringing the bear out of hibernation.
“Taro, are you in there?”
Surprisingly, I get an answer fairly quickly.
“Miki? Is that you?” Taro calls out, his voice muffled by the wall between us.
“Yeah, I’m taking up door to door wake-up calls as a hobby!... OK, that joke sucked, but seriously, why weren't you out there today?”
“I’m in a... precarious position right now.”
“Taro, if you’re going to tell me what I think you’re going to tell me, this is really a conversation you should be having with, like, a trusted male figure, because--”
“Not that kind of position! Look, the door’s unlocked, can you please just come in here?’
With some trepidation, we both turn the knob and enter. His room is pretty plain, with only a couple of Kamen Rider figures on the shelves and one or two pieces of artwork on the wall standing out. However, it’s much neater than any of the other boy dorms I've been in. Even Aaron’s, and he’s something of a neat freak. Next to the bed is what looks to be a big red exercise ball trying to roll out to freedom. Only after a more thorough glance do I realize that it’s Taro, his legs sprawled out in front of him like spilled Lego's.
“So, what happened here?” asks Aaron, amused and doing a bad job of hiding it. Taro appears to flinch at hearing the unfamiliar male voice, but he recovers fast.
“I tried to do leg stretches and I got caught,” Taro confesses. His head is hung low in shame.
“Why didn't you just tell us when we called you, dude?” I ask him.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry! I was just embarrassed... who’s ‘we’, by the way?”
“Oh, right!”
I sidestep behind my exchange student friend and push him forward like an auctioneer. The two boys stare at each other with a healthy degree of uneasiness.
I put on my best game show prize girl smile. “You recognize Aaron, from class? He’s going to be your new co-trainer!”
Taro smiles nervously, unsure what to make of the newest addition. I nudge Aaron in the side, pressing him to make the first move. He makes a quick jerking motion with his head that I assume is a nod. Taro does the same, and we’re all happily acquainted.
“So, can you help me up, please?”
“Sure can!” I exclaim, crouching down to his right side and imploring my partner to do the same on his left. With plenty of grunting and wincing, we bring Taro up to his feet.
“Are you still up for the gym?” I ask him.
He replies without hesitation. “Yes, of course!”
We being the long walk back to the gym, now with plenty of extra baggage in tow. I find myself hoping Aaron remains committed after the todays fiasco. If things keep going along this path, I’m going to need all the help I can get.
“Hey, Taro, your arm is swinging pretty close to the girls, buddy.”
He blushes a fiery red, yet he hasn’t made an effort to move his arm away from my chest. If he’s trying to cop a feel, he’s certainly not to ashamed.
“Uhm... would now be a bad time to mention that I have monoplegia?”
The three of us stop in our tracks, just a few feet away from his door.
“Mono-what?” Aaron asks, speaking my thoughts out loud.
“It’s like a pseudo-paralysis thing, it mainly affects my right upper body. Mine’s not too severe, thankfully, so I can still do everyday stuff. If I try, I mean.”
“And you’re not just making up an excuse because you got caught trying to fondle her? It’s better if you just tell the truth.”
“I-I’m not, I swear!”
“Only kidding, brother.”
I groan in frustration, both at Taro for his horrible sense of timing and Aaron for his crappy attempts at humor.
“Ok, it’s obvious that the thing we need to work on here is communication. Taro, would you like to tell me why you didn’t mention your monaplogia?”
“Monoplegia.”
“Whatever.”
“I just didn’t think it’d be important...”
“You didn’t think that you being almost paralyzed in your right side when I was going to make you lift 50 pounds of iron over your head was something worth mentioning?”
He begins to dig his heel into the ground and stare downward, like a kid being teased on the playground. It makes me ease off a little bit, but I’m not about to let him completely off the hook. Thanks to him, I’ve got to rearrange the whole work day schedule I had planned. Thank God I only got a few exercises in, or else I’d just start yanking my hair out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“13... 14.... 15!”
With a final huff, Aaron drops the barbell back into place and slowly sits up.
“That was impressive!” Taro exclaims. He’s given a thumbs up for his troubles, as the “Bench Press Guru” still too tired to speak.
“Yeah, I could have--*huff*--done a little better.”
“180 is nothing to scoff at!” I reassure him.
“Well, I’ve gotten out of--*huff*-- the groove of things, you know. Education and all that.”
I give him a playful shove on the arm and begin removing some of the weights from the bar.
After some game planning on the way back, we decided to let Taro try his hand at bench pressing. Of course, we’ll both be at his side spotting him in case something goes wrong, but for now we’re focusing on helping him build his confidence. Still, I can’t shake the bad feeling welling up inside of me.
“Alright, Taro, your turn.”
Obviously nervous, but still eager to please, Taro lays himself down on the black leather and begins taking deep breaths.
“You good to go?” Aaron asks, a hint of nervousness permeating his voice.
“If don’t do it now, I won’t do it at all. Let’s go.”
I’m not too sure what he means by that, but it sounds pretty impressive. With that, I slide over to the left side of the bench, and Aaron takes the right. Our hands gripped tightly on the bar, we wait for Taro to do the rest.
“Could you guys do me a favor and count down from five? I don’t really trust myself,” Taro requests.
“5... 4... 3... 2... 1!”
On cue, Taro bursts out of the gate, launching the bar from it’s resting place with impressive drive and power. But that’s the easy part.
“You can do it, Taro! We’re right here!” I cheer. I’m a bit surprised at how enthusiastic I’m being. Aaron is as well, if the look on his face is any indication.
Taro brings the bar back down to his chest, sweat forming on his brow. With a grunt, he lifts it into the air for a second time. He follows that up with a third press, followed by a fourth. By the fifth rep, his face is glistening like a wet tomato.
I throw some encouragement his way. “Give me five more, you’ve got it!”
His breathing is short and ragged, but he doesn’t let that stop him from his goal. Funnily enough, I feel the exhaustion I griped about yesterday beginning to subside little by little. There’s no better pick-me-up than watching someone succeed at something you never expected them to.
He’s at seven now. Our knuckles are white and our palms are stained with rust. This has officially evolved into a team effort, which really isn’t a bad thing. So long as Taro reaps his reward.
“Two... more!” Taro grunts. It sounds like his throat’s been rubbed down with a sand belter, but the determination hasn’t left him. Just what the hell is in this kid?
“Nine!”
Whatever it is, we could all stand to get some of it.
“Ten!”
The sound of clanging iron reverberates through the empty room, as Taro drops his bar and lays exhausted.
“That was awesome, Taro! You did even better than I expected you would!”
Sensing the sincerity in my compliment, he blushes and smiles dumbly.
“Coming from you Miki, that--*huff*--means a lot.”
I smile down at him, and it grows even brighter when I see Aaron offer up some encouragement.
“Good job, man.”
The two boys share a handshake of varying strength. I can’t help but be reminded of a crab gripping a jellyfish in it’s claw.
“Thanks so much, you two! But, do you think we could take a little break?”
“Yeah, sure, how long do you need?”
“How does a whole day sound?...
Last edited by DanjaDoom on Mon Jun 03, 2013 3:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
This is just awful! I can't believe how inaccurate and violently improper this entire chapter has been! What were you even thinking when you wrote this trash!? Are you high, delirious, senile, or just stupid!? There's absolutely nothing of redeeming value here, and you should feel bad about yourself for ever having thought of this ridiculously offensive storyline!
Styrofoam container
You anti-environmental son of a bitch!
Someone needs to leave an absurdly negative comment once in a while, to keep us honest.
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