Slob - Ellen Potter [48]
I waited for someone to riff on the word glutton, but no one did. That’s how serious the situation was.
I saw Wooly stop momentarily in his fussing with the equipment and scan the group. His eyes landed on mine. His chin lifted slightly and his ape chest puffed out. He had sighed. Yes, he was a happy man. Next, his glance flitted over to my left and seemed to be searching for something. He must have found it because his face grew stony. I looked to see what he was staring at, as did everyone in the class, and found the wiry figure slouching at the far end of the group.
Mason Ragg.
When you are looking down the barrel of your own imminent pain and suffering, you can’t help but feel relieved that you have someone to share it with. I know that’s not very Buddhist of me, but it’s the truth.
I tried to save him. Don’t forget that.
I did it for karma points, however.
Note to self: Ask Nima if good karma can be revoked, like a driver’s license.
I made my way through the group until I was standing next to Mason. He was the only other person in this crowd who might be experiencing a similar sense of doom, and I felt a natural inclination to be near him. Also, I hadn’t forgotten the switchblade in his sock. Not that I thought he would use it or anything. It just seemed like a situation where you would want to be near a person who carried a switchblade in his sock.
I wound up on the evil genius side of his face, but for some reason it didn’t give me the heebie-jeebies. In fact, when I looked at him, I found that I was mentally skipping over the scar somehow.
“Is this all for us?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“I’m pretty sure,” I answered. “How come you didn’t get an exemption?”
Mason shrugged. “I wasn’t in the mood. What do you guess all the mats are for?”
“Somersaults.”
“Can you do one?” he asked.
I remembered that Mason hadn’t been there to witness the dog harness.
I nodded. I did think I could, actually. As I said before, it’s all physics.
“Good.” Mason nodded slowly. “How about jumping hurdles?”
“Not my specialty,” I said.
“That’s what I figured. Trampoline?”
“Don’t know.”
“I bet not good,” Mason said.
“Probably not,” I agreed. I wasn’t insulted by all this, though. Mason didn’t seem to be making fun of me. The whole time he’d been eyeing the equipment thoughtfully, as though he were working something out.
“Those tires, the ones standing upright, are the things that worry me the most though,” he said.
“Really?” I said, surprised. There were four of the tires standing up and permanently fixed to a plank of wood. “Don’t worry. You’ll crawl through those, no problem.”
Mason looked at me. I was getting so used to the evil genius side of his face that now I could even figure out its expressions. At the moment it looked like it couldn’t believe how thickheaded I was.
“I’m not nervous for me, I’m nervous for you,” he said. “You’ll never squeeze through those tires. In fact, I could see you getting wedged in there and not being able to get out. I’m sure Wooly thought of that too.”
I took a better look at the tires. I hadn’t thought about them too much because they looked so harmless compared to the rest of the stuff. Mason was right. The centers were small, so small that some of the average-sized kids in the class would have a hard time fitting through. As you are well aware, I am not average size.
“See,” Mason continued, “he put them at the end of the obstacle course. It’s like the grand finale, you getting stuck in there.”
“Holy crap, you’re right.” That was just what Wooly would do! “How did you know that?”
“I’ve dealt with people like him before. Worse than him.” Mason said grimly. “So here’s how you handle this. You do the somersaults. You do the hurdles. You’ll knock them over but lots of people do, just try not to fall on your face. The trampoline is going to be tricky. No matter what you do, people are going to laugh at you while you’re on it. Fat kid bouncing around, you know.