EMANCIPATION

Loretta bit into the carrot, making sure to chew as quietly as possible. Sheldon looked over at her and smiled. How poised she was, how perfect. She would be an ideal wife. She had the right looks, the right style and the kind of manners necessary to complement him in his new job at the corporate top. Loretta smiled back, being with Sheldon was hard. She had to be careful not to slip up if she was going to hook him. He had a bright future and could give her the lifestyle she had always dreamt about.

They arrived at Loretta’s front door. Again, Sheldon tried to persuade her to invite him in. He had never seen her place and she always had an excuse to keep him out. These excuses were wearing thin and Sheldon was becoming more insistent. But tonight he was tired and gave up easily after a quick kiss and the promise of more next time.

Loretta entered the house, shut the door behind her and secured the two deadbolts locks. She wondered how much longer she could keep her secret hidden from him. “Loretta! Loretta, is that you, sweetie?” A nasal voice whined from the back bedroom. “Shut up, Mother. Of course it’s me,” she snapped. “Loretta, I’m hungry. Bring me a little something to eat, honey.”

In a panic, Loretta unlocked the front door and turned the knob. She wanted to run. If she could just summon the courage to leave, she’d be free to have the kind of life she wanted. But it was her mother. It was her duty. She surrendered.

Loretta walked into the kitchen and looked at the economy-sized jar of peanut butter that sat on the counter. She grabbed it then picked up a spoon, stuck it in the jar and headed down the long, dark wood hallway. An all too familiar nausea began to take over. She swallowed hard, paused for a second in the doorway then looked into the room. The light from the television cast an eerie strobe-like glare on the water stained walls. Her breathing became shallow as the smell of sweat and urine wafted up to freshly offend her nose. A phlegm-filled cackle of a laugh escaped from inside. “Jay Leno is sooo funny. He’s one of my reasons for living.” “Great,” Loretta thought. “Let him come take care of you.”

She entered the room and stood at the end of the four poster bed. “There’s my baby, my little girl. What did you bring Mama?” Loretta glared in disgust at her mother’s prostrate body, propped up by about a dozen pillows and draped in a tropical mu mu. Yes, this was her mother, all five hundred and eighty-five pounds of her. This freak of nature, this oddity, this living shrine to gluttony through whose loins she had passed.

Two fat, fleshy arms reached out toward her. “I brought you some peanut butter,” Loretta said, as she handed the jar over to yearning stubby fingers. “Mmm, peany butter. I love peany butter.” “Don’t call it that, Mother,” Loretta barked. “But that’s what you used to call it, honey; when you were a baby, remember? You do remember, don’t you?” Yeah, Loretta remembered; she remembered when life was normal and her mother was normal and she could ask friends over and she didn’t feel ashamed.

The clock on the nightstand ticked loudly. The second hand moved hesitantly, jerking halfway back, then leaping forward to the next second as if it too was trying to go back in time. In that eternity between the ticks, a million thoughts raced through Loretta’s mind. She thought about the lush life that Sheldon could give her. She thought about being her mother’s slave for the last ten years. She thought about the open can of rat poison that had been sitting on the kitchen counter for the past week.

Loretta looked down at her mother, whose swollen index finger reached desperately inside the jar until it wiped clean the last traces of peanut butter. She watched as the sticky finger found its way into the drooling, peanut butter smeared mouth. A loud, open mouth belch emanated from the wet gaping hole. The smell of stale peanut butter gusted up at her. “Excuse me,” Her mother peeped, in a voice so childlike and apologetic. Loretta noticed the blush on her mother's cheeks and wondered why she was always so embarrassed by bodily functions. It didn’t make sense now. Her whole being was an embarrassment.

“Lorettie, my tummy hurts.” Loretta bit at the inside of her cheek. She stared down at the maternal heaping mass of flesh and pity.
“I know, Mother. I know.”
“Rub my belly for me, please.”
Loretta sat on the side of the bed. “Okay, Mother.”

Her well-manicured hand reached up and slowly rubbed her mother’s massive belly. She stared at the mu mu with it’s bright design... the colorful birds perched in leafy green trees, the light blue sky with clouds that looked like airborne whales, the dark blue waters with dolphins lifting their heads out to say hello.
“It hurts, baby. It hurts.”
Loretta rubbed the huge belly in slow figure eights, the way her mother liked.
“I know, Mother. I know,” she whispered. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep. It’ll soon be over.”