Chapter 13

13.

It was an unseasonably chilly day in Durham, North Carolina. Overcast clouds covered the sky in a thick blanket of gray, sapping the color from the normally vibrant landscape. A yellow taxi cab tore through sullen shades of gray and brown.

"You sure you’ll be alright?" the mustachioed driver asked. His hair was as gray as the clouds, weathered hands gripping the wheel like they were locked there. The man was no bag of bones himself; living in a BBQ hotspot like Durham would do that, but compared to his passenger, he was a skeleton. Clocking in at a hefty 330 pounds, Rodrigo Tortella grunted, then remained silent, his hands atop his mountainous belly.

The cab driver frowned. There was something odd going on here. Rodrigo didn’t stick out too much in this area of the world, but the location he had requested gave the driver pause. He had driven a few different people to the Kazyr estate over the years. He always got a strange feeling when he dropped them off, though he could never figure out why. The fact that none of the people he dropped off there ever called for a ride home was mildly concerning, but then again, that was the taxi business.

"Service is spotty out here, and it’s a long way back. Sure you don’t want me to wait a few minutes?"

Rodrigo shook his head and continued to stare out the window. His excess weight kept him planted in place; any discomfort would have to wait. At this point, it was too much effort to move the fat to a more comfortable spot. It didn’t help much anyway; Rodrigo was only ever truly comfortable naked and sprawled on his bed. Another few minutes passed until the cast-iron gate of the estate came into view. The driver suddenly felt anxiety in his chest. It was like the area was devoid of oxygen, and if he didn’t leave soon, he’d suffocate. Rodrigo opened the door and rocked his fat body out of the car, grunting as his knees took on his ever-increasing weight. The driver rolled down the window and went to say goodbye, but stopped midway. Rodrigo wasn’t looking back.

"Fine, sooner I’m out of here, the better," the driver grumbled as he shifted into gear. Rodrigo didn’t hear the tires squeal as he pressed the intercom button.

"Jessica, let me in," he said, not knowing if anyone was on the other side. It didn’t matter either way. This had to be the right place. It had taken months of research and investigation, not to mention the money his private investigator demanded, but he had done it. The home base of the "organization," of which Jessica Parsons was a part, was behind these iron gates. Tax records, property reports, and emails his investigator had obtained all pointed to it. These people filled his body with over a hundred pounds of fat, which at this point he had given up on losing. Rodrigo knew he had a very slim chance of getting slim again, not to mention keeping the weight off. His body was ruined.

"And freaks spent thousands of dollars paying to watch it happen," Rodrigo hissed through his teeth, gripping the microphone in his pocket. The humiliation felt as fresh as the day he found out. He was a celebrity, at least in one small, twisted corner of the internet. And he hadn’t been the only one. Rodrigo doubted that today would go exactly as he planned, but if he could spring Kumar from this fat jail, he could walk away from this situation happily. Besides, he didn’t have much else going on. He had the three million from the lawsuit settlement, sure, but at his advanced weight, he couldn’t do anything that he used to enjoy. His body was only good for lazing around and eating.

Without a word, the gate unlocked and parted backwards. Rodrigo took a breath and began to waddle down the driveway. It only took a minute before he wished he had taken up the driver’s offer. The driveway stretched out in a seemingly never-ending curve. The light posts came and went every fifty feet, and after an increasing amount of time.

Rodrigo was well and truly an obese man now. He had fallen into the trap that so many before him had. The weight subconsciously ground him down. Every ache, humiliation, and achy joint accumulated. Eventually, he threw in the towel. It was too hard to exist normally in the 300 Club. Daily workouts dwindled from three times a week to none. Rodrigo instead focused his efforts on finding Kumar and bringing Jessica down. That had left him somehow even more out of shape. His body was on fire as he struggled down the driveway. Chafe lit up his creases and folds. Sweat dampened, then soaked his clothes. Worse, he had the uneasy feeling that he was about to starve; he growled, breaking the otherwise silent vista. Rodrigo gripped his sagging gut with both hands and shook it.

"Use the damn fat if you're hungry! I’ve eaten enough."

The rest of the walk came in fits and starts. The beautiful greenery and immaculate construction of the house were lost to his exhaustion. Rodrigo needed a few breaks, but staggering, knees shaking, he managed to knock on the door. He immediately sank down, his chest heaving. When he heard the deadbolt slide free, he looked up again, surprised to see a chubby face with a gray beard.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Rodrigo tried to stand but sank back into a crouch. Sweat poured down his face in streams. He tried to speak but only heard rushed breaths enter and leave his mouth.

"Poor thing, I saw you wandering by my gate; can I get you a drink?"

Rodrigo managed to steady himself and looked at the man again. Early fifties, barrel chested with a belly, the man looked like he had majored in dad-bodology. His burly arms disguised just how heavy he must be. Still, he wasn’t Jessica. Looking past the door, Rodrigo saw a nice entryway and a circular couch that looked like a donut. No 500 pound men being funneled heavy cream.

Cursing under his breath, Rodrigo realized he would need to accept this stranger's hospitality. At least to phone for another ride.

"Huff- sure, thanks so much. I -huff, was walking and got lost, I didn’t see any other houses."

It was a lie, and Rodrigo couldn’t have blamed the man for not believing a 300 plus man was idly walking down the countryside. Still, he moved back and gestured for Rodrigo to come inside. He did, nearly losing his balance before staggering over the polished hardwood to the couch. Rodrigo closed his eyes as he listened to his host sort through the kitchen, focusing on his breath. He couldn’t believe how much performing basic tasks exhausted him. It felt like he had run a marathon; he had run one in the past and this might be worse. It was mortifying, but this setback motivated him to find Kumar that much more.

"I hope you like soda, I figured you must, since- sorry."

Rodrigo snapped his eyes open to see a glass of cola on the table. His host had gone red in the face, obviously thinking he had offended him. Rodrigo shook his head and downed the cola in two big gulps.

"Don’t worry. I’m a fat guy. Fat guys love soda."

The man looked surprised and threw his head back for a laugh.

"Oh good, I like soda too."

The two giggled for a moment before the man stuck out his hand.

"I’m Dom, by the way, Dominck Kazyr."

Rodrigo smiled and shook his head again. The walk here must have taken more out of him than he realized. He was drowsy. More than that, he felt he needed to physically shake off sleep.

"Rodrrigoo, Tortles," Rodrigo tried to say, but the words came out awkward and slow. Dom grinned.

"My my, on an empty stomach, fat boys digest things so quickly. Don’t worry. We’ll keep you comfortable."

Rodrigo jerked his head up again. The room was spinning.

"We?" he managed to ask. Answering his question, Jessica Parson strolled out and sat next to Dom on the donut couch. They leaned on each other, heads touching in matching quizzical poses.

"Think he got fatter in the last few months?" Dom asked. Rodrigo tried to fight but felt his eyelids slam shut.

"Absolutely. Why do you think we gave him that settlement in the first place?" Jessica replied. Then there was nothing.