The Theory of Big and Small VI

Nate was standing there, fully functional in flip-flops, a pair of baggy cotton shorts and a gigantic teeshirt with Keep On Truckin’ emblazoned across his ample man-breasts. She had forgotten how tall he was – over six feet, broad shouldered. Not all of him was lost to fat – his massive arms showed muscular underpinnings, and his calves were firm and surprisingly well formed. But these details were overshadowed by the rolls of extended flesh around his face, neck, and the swell of his gigantic belly. And the fingers, like sausages, were still adorned with an array of flashy rings. He stood in the doorway for a moment behind the protection of the outer glass screen before reaching out and unlatching it.

Sara wasn’t white sure what to say but as Nate stepped aside she came in, this time to a room that was familiar in memory, still dark and shadowy, but not so frightening.

“I……”, she started and then gave up. What was she doing here? Feet thudding on the floorboards, Nate moved past her to his post on the sofa where he let himself down but not without tremendous objection from the furniture, which squealed and groaned. The cast was gone so he was walking with much more confidence, though his bulk still made movement difficult. The room looked clean, no fluke there, she thought. Someone was taking care of the place.

She stood awkwardly at the door until he gestured to a Barkalounger chair next to the sofa. She’d hadn’t remembered it being there before. It was dark brown leather and obscenely padded, with a wooden lever on the side to shoot the out the footstool. She gingerly ventured into its depths and was immediately engulfed, legs dangling. Nate had her at an advantage.

He didn’t look like the young teenager she’d mistaken him for either. Now it was obvious he was much older than that, just as he had claimed. And to prove his point he reached down beside him and lifted a half-empty bottle of Labatt’s Blue.

“Can I get you one?” he said with a malicious gleam.

Sara found her voice. She scooted forward on the chair and hung there in the balance, hands firmly on the armrests. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner…” Nate looked like he’d heard this all before. He gave an exaggerated sigh.
“My brother bought me another guinea pig, if that’s what’s worrying you,” his expression made clear that he thought otherwise.
“Yes, well, about that.” He watched her with some interest. “I think I should pay for….pay for…well. “Yes, let’s not beat around bush, shall we,” Nate interrupted. “Her name was Mabel. Mabel! She was twenty-four guinea years old, liked pistachio ice cream, quiche, and moonlight walks on the beach.” He chortled. Sara stared.

“You know, I’m really sorry!” The chair was getting uncomfortably hot and it seemed to be taking her back into its depths.
“Sure, that’s why it took you two months to come by and tell me so.”
Had it been that long?
“Yes, I know.”
“Inexcusable,” she squeaked out at last.
Nate licked his lips. “Well anyway, my new g-pig is a guy this time. He’s big and bad works out every day on that wheel of his and anytime you want to bring your little dustmop around for a slap-down I’m sure he can take it on.”

She deserved this.
“Okay, okay, just let me know what I can do to make this up to you.”
She had inched forward on the chair and had almost got her tippy toes on the floor when the kitchen door banged open and she started with a yelp and pitched forward.
Nate turned and cocked his head, but his eyes were on Sara who was still trying to regain her balance. She was always falling down in this place!

“Hey bro, have you…..” The voice behind her stopped and she turned half-expecting to see another large apparition. She froze.

The man was tall and lanky, wearing a maroon hoodie over a black teeshirt and jeans. His dark hair was tousled into thatchy peaks. He had a strong chin, with a bit of stubble, which he was rubbing, looking sleepy. His feet were bare. As he stood rooted to the spot staring at Sara, she saw he had the same green-flecked eyes as his brother.

She was bent over and scrabbled to right herself. The chair! She moved as far away from it as possible.

Nate didn’t bother to get up. He leaned back and lifted his beer to his lips.
“Hey Moondoggie. Thought you were already at work." His eyes flickered back to Sara. "I’m just hanging out with my gal-pal.”
“But I’m not…..” Sara sputtered and then stopped. “I mean….’
“Oh, that’s right,” Nate said with exaggerated politeness, “I guess you haven’t met my brother.”
His free arm hand extended out in the parody of a grand gesture. The rings clinked.
“Bud, meet……” he looked at her pointedly.
“Sara,” she managed.
“Sara, meet Bud….my twin, “ he finished with no small amount of satisfaction.