chapter 5

The fire blazes hot, and sparks fly into the midnight blue sky. Without so many people, without the neon signs, and skyscrapers, every star shines like a polished diamond. I look up into the sky past the smoke, squeeze my eyes closed, and take a deep breath.

We're all assembled in a circle, in the dark but for the fire, while Dan reads from the list of names in front of him. Occasionally after he says a name, we hear a gasp, a scream, a torrent of tears. Many of these people were thrown out of the city before the diet was completely changed over to honey. They don't know what happened to family and friend who stayed, and sometimes, the news isn't good.

"Mark Wilberson...
Sarah Montgomery..."

A wail. A man puts an arm around the shoulders of an old woman, apparently she was past 40 at the time people stopped aging.

The woman looks over at Dan. He's lost more weight, inevitable from the constant farming, and food shortages, but he's still hovering in high 390's. For people who have never seen a fat person, or haven't seen one in years, he's the subject of stares and speculation, and sometimes resentment. Why does he get to be here when their relatives do not?

I can see how much he hates this, how hard it is for him. But he promised to do it.

"She wasn't even that big!" the woman howls.

"Her granddaughter", the man next to me whispers.

"Ah", I whisper back. I don't know what the woman remembers, but the girl had to be huge when she died. They were all a minimum of 1,500 pounds.

"David Clarke...

Anthony Thompson...
And that's all I remember. I'm sure there were many many more, but they were either there before me, I didn't meet them, or I didn't know their real names. Remember, inside we didn't go by our names, we weren't allowed names, only numbers, because we weren't really...people", he finishes.

I rush over and put my arms around him.

"Thank you, baby", I whisper to him.

"They hate me", he says.

"They don't hate you. They're very happy someone escaped from there. It's just...anger", I say.

"I understand that well enough. When we are going to invade? More die every day", he hisses quietly.

"I know, I know." I did know, but couldn't let it affect me. I have him, and I desperately want to find my parents. Everybody else is going to have to be someone else's concern right now.

To my shock, the older woman comes over to us, and throws her arms around him.

"Did you know my Sarah well?" she asks.

"I wish I had, but we didn't get to know each other very well in there, we weren't allowed to talk much", he says.

"You're so lucky to get him back, never forget how lucky you are", the woman says, and squeezes my hand.

"I know it, I know how lucky I am." I hug her.

I pull Dan away then, and we wander off hand in hand. I know he's had enough.

"Lucky she says", he fumes, "We're refugees starving in tents."

"There haven't been any food shortages in a while now, mostly thanks to you and your farming techniques", I correct, "We do live in tents, but we have to be able to move. We'll build houses when we can. You're talking to someone who nearly died...should have died...of cancer as a child. Every moment feels lucky to me."

"You're right of course. But I feel like they all stare at me like I'm stealing their food. I weigh 1,100 pounds less than I used to! They don't seem to notice that part. But I'm never going to be skinny, and in this world where we're pariahs for it..."

"Hey..." I throw my arms around him. "No one thinks that. But you're right, no one has seen anyone like you in a while, so they're going to stare. Don't worry about it."

"I'm worried about you, you've made it clear you're with me, and I'm worried you'll suffer because of it..."

"Okay, enough of that, we need to make this thing official...."

"I don't think it's legal for a woman to marry a food group." He sounds miserable, but sticks out his tongue.






"C'mo n to bed..." I lead him into our tent, and we lay down together.

"I think you should re-think this", he starts.

"Well I don't! Listen, I've wanted a fat husband since I was a little girl...actually I wanted you to be my husband since I was young enough to want Mr. Bear to be the best man."

"I remember Mr. Bear!" he cried, "You were what...8? Your favorite stuffed animal, you were never admitted without it."

"And you were about 13...volunteering your summers. I had an instant crush, and I still do..."

He turned red in the darkness.

"You and I are survivors, Dan. Don't let them rob us of this now." I kiss him, then lick down his neck, seizing a nipple on one of his swollen moobs. I can almost SEE him change. Something snaps. Like the wheels on a cog lining up in place. A hazy look comes over his face, he seems to be in another world.

He moans delightfully. "Suck", he gasps, "Have me if you want me. How do I taste, how do I..."

I know they did something to him, something to make him...like it. Something to make him placidly, even eagerly, go to the butcher. It's sick. And exciting. And okay since he's now mine, and safe and sound in my arms, and no one can ever hurt him again. But can we ever enjoy this without him associating me with what he went through?

"I love you" is all I answer.

He seems to snap out it. "I love you too", he says, and rolls away quickly.



* ponders how perverse I can get with this and not offend people *