Where I'm Calling From

off, says Harriet. You know Harriet.
    For dessert, I say to the fat man, there is the Green Lantern Special, which is a pudding cake with sauce, or there is cheesecake or vanilla ice cream or pineapple sherbet.
    We’re not making you late, are we? he says, puffing and looking concerned.
    Not at all, I say. Of course not, I say. Take your time, I say. I’ll bring you more coffee while you make up your mind.
    We’ll be honest with you, he says. And he moves in the seat. We would like the Special, but we may have a dish of vanilla ice cream as well. With just a drop of chocolate syrup, if you please. We told you we were hungry, he says.
    I go off to the kitchen to see after his dessert myself, and Rudy says, Harriet says you got a fat man from the circus out there. That true?
    Rudy has his apron and hat off now, if you see what I mean.
    Rudy, he is fat, I say, but that is not the whole story.
    Rudy just laughs.
    Sounds to me like she’s sweet on fat-stuff, he says.
    Better watch out, Rudy, says Joanne, who just that minute comes into the kitchen.
    I’m getting jealous, Rudy says to Joanne.
    I put the Special in front of the fat man and a big bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup to the side.
    Thank you, he says.
    You are very welcome, I say—and a feeling comes over me.
    Believe it or not, he says, we have not always eaten like this.
    Me, I eat and I eat and I can’t gain, I say. I’d like to gain, I say.
    No, he says. If we had our choice, no. But there is no choice.
    Then he picks up his spoon and eats.
    What else? Rita says, lighting one of my cigarettes and pulling her chair closer to the table. This story’s getting interesting now, Rita says.
    That’s it. Nothing else. He eats his desserts, and then he leaves and then we go home, Rudy and me.
    Some fatty, Rudy says, stretching like he does when he’s tired. Then he just laughs and goes back to watching the TV.
    I put the water on to boil for tea and take a shower. I put my hand on my middle and wonder what would happen if I had children and one of them turned out to look like that, so fat.
    I pour the water in the pot, arrange the cups, the sugar bowl, carton of half and half, and take the tray in to Rudy. As if he’s been thinking about it, Rudy says, I knew a fat guy once, a couple of fat guys, really fat guys, when I was a kid. They were tubbies, my God. I don’t remember their names. Fat, that’s the only name this one kid had. We called him Fat, the kid who lived next door to me. He was a neighbor.
    The other kid came along later. His name was Wobbly. Everybody called him Wobbly except the teachers. Wobbly and Fat. Wish I had their pictures, Rudy says.
    I can’t think of anything to say, so we drink our tea and pretty soon I get up to go to bed. Rudy gets up too, turns off the TV, locks the front door, and begins his unbuttoning.
    I get into bed and move clear over to the edge and lie there on my stomach. But right away, as soon as he turns off the light and gets into bed, Rudy begins. I turn on my back and relax some, though it is against my will. But here is the thing. When he gets on me, I suddenly feel I am fat.
    I feel I am terrifically fat, so fat that Rudy is a tiny thing and hardly there at all.
    That’s a funny story, Rita says, but I can see she doesn’t know what to make of it.
    I feel depressed. But I won’t go into it with her. I’ve already told her too much.
    She sits there waiting, her dainty fingers poking her hair.
    Waiting for what? I’d like to know.
    It is August.
    My life is going to change. I feel it.

What’s in Alaska?

    Jack got off work at three. He left the station and drove to a shoe store near his apartment. He put his foot up on the stool and let the clerk unlace his work boot.
    “Something comfortable,” Jack said. “For casual wear.”
    “I have something,” the clerk said.
    The clerk brought out three pairs of shoes and Jack said he would take the soft beige-colored shoes that made his feet feel free and springy. He paid the clerk and put the box with his boots under his arm. He looked down at his new shoes as he walked. Driving home, he felt that his foot moved freely from pedal to pedal.
    “You bought some new shoes,” Mary said. “Let me see.”
    “Do you like them?” Jack said.
    “I don’t like the color, but I’ll bet they’re comfortable. You needed new shoes.”
    He looked at the shoes again. “I’ve got to take a bath,” he said.
    “We’ll have an early dinner,” she