Chapter 3 - 3

but, it worked to my advantage as they seemed to be much easier to get talking. Others greeted me not with fables and legends, but, a double barrel shot gun pointed at my head and a warning to get off their land. It became more difficult as the day went on to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt weak and by noon I found myself looking for yet another restaurant.
It was around one o'clock I pulled into the parking lot of a buffet this time. My skin felt cold and clammy I staggered into the door my right arm wrapped about my middle the pangs almost knocking me to my knees. I made it to the booth and was handed a stack of plates. I requested chocolate milk to drink and made my way to the first table set up for the buffet. But I decided to bypass the salads and headed instead to the comfort foods always dripping with greasy fats. So much just waiting for the serving spoon to be dipped into. Mac and cheese, fried chicken, burgers and fries, mashed potatoes and gravy .The waitress assigned to my table lost count of the plates she removed and those she replaced with clean. By the time I had finished the poor girl looked as if she has run a marathon. And the manager politely recommended after my tenth dessert perhaps it was time to move on. Yet again as I left my table my belly was beginning to threaten to pop the button on my jeans and yet though the edge had finally been taken off I could still feel my hunger beginning to gather forces yet again. I made it to my car before the button on my jeans did indeed pop as the food truly began to settle into my stomach. My zipper began a slow climb down as my belly kept pushing its way out. What was wrong with me? Why could I not make the pains go away? Stretching my shirt over my swollen middle I turned the key to my car clicked my seat belt took a deep breath only to have a button ping off the middle of my shirt and left the parking lot.
By now I was quite worn out from my interviews, but, more because of the effort it took to eat enough to take the edge off my desire for even more food. I returned to my hotel room and making it to my room without anyone really seeing my disheveled state I unlocked the door and slipped inside. I had to hold my belly in the best I could trying to get across that parking lot. Closing the door behind me and locking it. I relaxed my stomach muscles and watched as another two buttons popped off my shirt. I finished unbuttoning it and removed the tattered remains of it. I reached a trembling hand down to feel the damage myself. My normally very flat middle felt bloated out. It felt round and hard. There was no way I was going to be able to pull that belly in enough to get into any of my other jeans that night. Pulling my jeans down my legs I walked in front of the mirror over the set of drawers in the room and turning to my side I ran a palm over the bump that looked a bit bigger than I originally thought. It almost took both of my hands to cover it. What in the hell??? Turning away I picked my bag up off the floor where I had left it when I came into the room and began going over notes from my interviews. I was doing ok for a while able to keep the hunger at bay. It started off slow, but, by five o'clock I could no longer focus once again my pain was overriding my ability to focus on anything else.

I got up from the small desk I had been working on and picked up the room service menu propped up against the ice bucket on top of the chest of drawers. I dialed the number for service and once again asked for one of everything on the dinner menu. I sat on the edge of the bed my arms wrapped around my already bloated middle rocking back and forth trying not to pass out from the pangs. I counted the ticks of the clock. In 20 minutes there was a knock on my door. Ignoring the fact I was wearing nothing more than my boxers I opened the door to allow the parade of room service people to enter and start to place the serving trays over all the surfaces they could find. I quickly signed the ticket and shuffled them back through the door locking it behind me.

I began removing the domed tops over the dishes keeping them warm. I was alone in this room and driven by a combination of painful need and greed I had never felt before I devoured every crumb on every plate. I lifted the last licking it clean. I stacked all empty plates onto the one cart they had left behind and opening the door pushed the cart into the hall way so it could be retrieved. I was glad I had not gone out to eat dinner. I walked in front of the mirror yet again on my way back to the desk and stopped cold. I looked at the reflection in the mirror and my belly was once again extremely bloated. I looked as if I were 4 months into a pregnancy. Hard as a rock it stretched my skin tightly. I finally gave up and turning off the lights crawled beneath the covers of my bed. I turned on the TV and watched an old movie propped up on pillows I could not seem to stop rubbing the bump sitting in my lap. By the time 9pm flashed on the clock sitting on the night stand my eye lids had begun to droop closed and it wasn't long before I was once again in the land of nod. I realized I was again in the bar in the darkest corner of the French Quarter. Nursing a beer and I know what is coming. I look up and across the room there she is the woman from the voodoo shop. She takes a sip of her drink and her eyes have a knowing smile. I try to get up from my table to speak to her again, but, just as I gain my feet I feel it. Only this is not the gnawing I have felt since this morning this is a completely consuming burn. It hurts so badly this time I am forced to my knees. Gaining back my breath finally I manage to gain my feet. I glance over to the table and she's gone leaving behind an empty glass and I make my way out the door