by Steven Duncan

Created on: April 29, 2008

A GIFT FOR THE YUMMY UM
Henry slowed as he came down the stairs, stepping as lightly as possible on the worn steps, which groaned under his weight. Eavesdropping was not his specialty, being a large kid, and clumsy, but he knew his mother was talking about him. Anytime she talked to Lois Pullen these days, she talked about Henry.
"I don't know what we're going to do about him, Lois. He's gotten so heavy. I do. . I try to watch what I cook, and measure out what he eats, but, God, Lois. . . he looks like he's getting fatter every day. And that rash on his skin. It's so bad. Just horrible."

The old Victorian house was full of creaky boards. Henry stepped cautiously, easing down the hall until he could see his mother reflected in the glass of the stove. She was sitting at the table, curling the long phone cord around one finger. Half the kids at school had their own cell phone these days. His parents didn't even have a cordless.
His mother laughed.
"Yes, I know," she said. "And thank you for the encouragement. But you should see the way his poor little cheeks jiggle now. He's only fifteen and he already huffs like he's dying by the time he gets to the top of the stairs. I'm scared for him."
Henry watched his mother, then crept away, anxiously working the purple Crown Royal bag in his hands. The bag was empty.
"How does Shawn stay so fit?" his mother asked. Shawn was a year older than Henry. The girls at school liked Shawn. Shawn was the substance of rumors and innuendo. "Is that so? Nothing special? I. . . yeah. I wish he would spend some time with Henry. He doesn't really have any friends, you know. I can't remember the last time he brought anyone home."
Henry turned, frowning deeply, angrily, and went for the front door. All he needed was Shawn Pullen teaching him how not to be fat. He squeezed the Crown Royal bag before stuffing it into his back pocket, alongside a pair of cheap pliers. His pants pockets had gotten considerably tighter, lately. Brad Moody, the happy clown, had joked that when Henry got his license next year he'd have to keep his keys in his bellybutton and his wallet in his butt crack. Shawn Pullen roared. The girls sitting beside him, too.
Henry reached the door, opened it on the warm day. The air outside was fragrant with wild flowers, honeysuckle, pine.
"And his teeth," his mother said. "Oh, Lois! You should see his poor teeth!"
Henry shut the door and set out.

Henry had met the Yummy Um three weeks before. Until then he had stayed indoors

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