Chapter 4: Cho-co-lah-teh

http://youtu.be/49w5_n10hOk

Chapter 4:  Cho-co-lah-teh

“A fit, healthy body—that is the best fashion statement”
― Jess C. Scott

     Who was she fooling?  Wearing black wasn’t going to make Samantha Dodson look any skinnier or jiggle any less.  Oh well.  She was here to Zumba.  Sam was going through a rough patch emotionally, physically, and financially.  Her husband Darryl couldn’t hold down a job so he was taking it out on her.  She wasn’t sure what she had done wrong in the beginning, but now she had become so used to his critical, degrading remarks that it had become the new norm.  Sam didn’t think she would be able to go to Zumba class because their bank account was dipping dangerously low and into the negatives.  Their food stamps had been upped once more so they had food but no money for extras.  Her husband had drilled it into her head that Zumba was a waste of time and waste of money but she still hoped for a miracle.  Samantha was overjoyed when she went to her car one morning and found a 4-month gift certificate of unlimited Zumba at Boomerang Valley Fitness Club.  She had no idea who would have given her that incredible gift but she was determined to show her gratitude by using it as much as she could.  “Maybe my husband won’t  insult me so much if I lose some weight,” she thought to herself.

            Right then Lucy Lemon, the new Zumba instructor, cued up the class’ favorite song, “Chocolate” by Soul Control.  Everybody started clapping to the beat and followed the instructor.

“Whoaaa!
Everybody In The World Likes Chocolate
Oooh, We Love It!
Oh, It Makes You Happy”

Everybody counted with their fingers in the air with Lucy.

“Un, Dos,
Un, Dos, Tres

Mama She Says Roly Poly,
Papa He Says Holy Moly
Everybody Wants A Chocolate (A Choco Choco)”

Sam thought about the chocolate cake she had binged on three nights ago.  She swung into a brisk cha-cha: two, three, cha-cha-cha.  All her worries seemed so much smaller when she had a slice of moist chocolate cake (with pudding in the mix) delicately pierced by the silver fork with rosette on the bottom.  Her mom had given her an Oneida silverware set as a wedding present so every time she ate, Sam thought about how much she was loved…at least by her mom, if not by her husband.  Her favorite part of the10pm ritual was savoring every creamy lick of chocolate-y fudgy frosting off each tine of the fork.   And so as not to be wasteful, she would gently press the tines of the fork onto her plate, lest she forgot any crumbs to be had.  Mmmm….chocolate, she thought to herself. 

“Front, back, side, rub your tummy,” Lucy cheerfully called out during the chorus. 

Sam thought to herself, “Yep, those are all the parts that need firming up…front, back, side, and tummy.”  Sam felt self conscious looking at herself in the mirror at the front of the aerobics room.  She hated the beat up black sweats and tshirt she was wearing.  She told herself she would buy herself new workout clothes when she lost her first 10 pounds.  She had a really long way to go to reach that goal but at least she was in the right place to begin her journey.  She had heard that you could burn up to 1800 calories in one session of Zumba.  As she cha-cha’d with the rest of the class, she couldn’t help but see her flabby arms.  She thought to herself that if she moved her arms hard enough, she may just flap herself right off the ground.  Why couldn’t she look like the other women working out? 

Her husband’s words echoed in her head, “Get off your fat butt and do something about that muffin-top belly of yours”.  Sam realized her shirt lifted up and exposed a roll of fat every time she raised her arms in the song.  Once she realized it, she danced the rest of the song half-heartedly.  She felt like the other women were judging her.  She convinced herself that it was just her imagination and continued moving.  But why was it so hard to get Darryl’s jabs out of her mind?  “Why don’t you go back to college.  Oh, that’s right you never finish anything you start unless it involves frosting!”  His words had hit her below the belt.  She hated herself for not standing up to him right then and there.  This from the man who couldn’t hold down a job longer than 6 weeks.  That was certainly the pot calling the kettle black.  Sam wasn’t sure she quite understood that expression but it seemed to fit right then at that moment. 

I’ll show him, she thought to herself.  I am going to lose so much weight he won’t even be able to recognize me.  That’s right, I am going to get so fit and ripped that I won’t be scared to tell him what I really think.  Secretly, Sam was afraid that one day Darryl might get so mad at her that he would hit her.  But so far, he had kept his abuse to verbal only.  So what if he had yelled at her for using the wrong laundry detergent.  That was an easy fix…buy new detergent.  And then there had been the incident of the cinnamon rolls.  That particular week Darryl had been more cranky than usual.  She thought that baking him a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls might calm him down.  The only problem was Sam had never ever attempted baking cinnamon rolls and it proved to be a bit harder than she expected.  Oh sure the kitchen smelled amazing and she couldn’t wait to put the hot gooey roll in her mouth, but all that had changed in an instant. 

Darryl took one bite and pretended he had broken a tooth.  The cinnamon rolls were like little rocks.  Sam couldn’t figure out what she had done wrong.  She had followed the recipe but here was the proof, right in front of her.  She had failed.  He was so mad at her incompetence that he had thrown each and every hot, gooey cinnamon roll into the trash.  As if that weren’t enough to crush her spirit, as the cinnamon rolls were actually still edible but just a little on the crunchy side, with each roll he chucked into the trash, he had an insult to hurl along with it too.  “Well, at least they weren’t half baked…like your brain, “ Darryl took aim at the trashcan.  “This just proves that you shouldn’t try anything new,” the second roll went hurtling through the air missing the trash and smearing frosting on the hard wood floor.  “Well don’t just stand there…go clean it up.”  Sam grabbed a rag and squatted down to pick it up when another roll whooshed past, barely missing the back of her head.  “Aw, what’s wrong honey…are you stuck to the floor?  Is that booty of yours getting in the way again?”  Sam slowly stood up trying to muster courage to tell him to knock it off but Darryl looked completely entertained as he continued to swish all the rolls into the trash, one at a time. 

“He shoots…he scores!”  “Hey check it out babe, from the 3-point line”.  Another warm, sticky roll whizzed by.  Sam tried hard to hold back the tears.  She turned her back as she watched her hard work, literally get trashed.  “Don’t walk away now hon, check out your man in action”.  Darryl looked ridiculous as he stood on the chair now and missed the trash with the rolls more times than he made it.  Frosting was smeared all over the kitchen floor and the scent of cinnamon and brown sugar hung heavy in the air.  After the last roll had been chucked, Darryl yelled out one more jab.  “Hey next time you try to bake these, just remember to make them like you.  Soft and fluffy!”  Why did Darryl always insist on pointing out her weight problem?  Ironically, everytime he called her fat, the only thing that soothed her was more food that made her even more fat.   So that wasn’t so bad, right?  He hadn’t physically hit her…yet.  She tried to justify the silliness of the situation but Sam had no idea how much damage her husband’s emotional abuse had already caused her. 

…She glanced around the room at the other people dancing and they looked so skinny and so carefree.  She was sure that once she lost weight, she would be happier.  She longed to not have to fake a smile.  She used to be so happy…before Darryl.  She looked over at a young college girl flirting with the tall Italian man as they danced.  What an odd couple, she thought.  Why he could almost be old enough to be her dad!  As the song went on and on about cho-co-lah-teh…Sam was setting some goals.  She was going to start eating healthier right after her last ritualistic eating of chocolate cake tonight!

Soul Control.  Chocolate (Choco Choco).  Nordic Copyright Bureau. 2004.

http://youtu.be/49w5_n10hOk