LJ Idol, Week 17
“You can do this,” she said. She had that tone in her voice, that tone where you just knew that a person positively believed what they had just said. She believed it; she knew it and that was all the confidence I needed. If she believed I could do it, then I believed it too.
“First round pairings,” called the announcer. “Dumas Vs. Mortimer.”
That was me: Mortimer. Henry Mortimer. “Crazy-Jaws” Mortimer, some people called me. “Stupid Asshole” Mortimer, my brother might have called me if he was here. He, of course, was not here and I was thankful for that.
I stepped onto the stage where Dumas was already waiting. I knew who Dumas was by name, but I had never met him in person before. He was rotating his head around on his neck, loosening up. I never saw the point in that, myself. I wasn’t much for preparations. I smiled politely and nodded. His facial expression didn’t change in the slightest bit. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed to be frowning now.
“Lighten up, buddy,” I said, teasing a little. “It’ll be over soon.”
“The only thing that’ll be over is your career,” he retorted. He cracked his knuckles; first his right hand and then his left.
“Now now. Can’t we just agree to be gentleman about this?” I offered my hand to him for a sportsmanlike shake. He turned away from it like I had just exposed him to radioactive sludge. I shook my head and put my hand down by my side.
I looked back up into the crowd and found myself in awe of all the spectators. There had to be a few hundred here tonight. Much more than usual. I nodded in satisfaction before looking back to Clara, standing near my coaches. She smiled and waved. She was mouthing something now. What was it? I couldn’t make it out.
You…can…choose it? No, that wasn’t it. She must have noted my confusion, as she mouthed the words to me again, slower. You…can…do…it. Ah yes, that made sense to me. I smiled and nodded. She believed in me, she really did. God, I loved that about her. Her confidence was mine. She was my secret weapon.
“Gentleman, are you ready?” called the announcer. Dumas gave a positive wave to the announcer’s table and I did the same. “Very well, gentleman. Let us begin!”
The buzzer sounded and I plunged my hand into the dish that was sitting on the table near where I stood. I felt around inside the dish and found a handful of small hard objects. I had adapted a sixth sense of sorts for knowing just how many were in my hand without having to look and count. I dropped one or two back into the dish, confident that I had just the right number that I needed.
I threw the objects into my mouth. I began chewing.
“Go, Crazy-Jaws!” yelled a particularly loud member of the audience. I tried to smile and wave, though it was hard with a mouthful like the one I had now. I decided to concentrate on chewing. The hard objects were breaking down. They were no longer hard, they were becoming soft and malleable. Perfect.
I bore down and chewed harder. I had a new technique that I had been practicing at home recently and it was my first time trying it competitively. My bottom jaw almost seemed to rotate vertically at a rapid pace, tenderizing the soft mass in my mouth.
The seconds were becoming minutes and the minutes were seeming like an eternity. I caught a glimpse of Dumas’s face, and he seemed as equally enthralled as I was. I glanced to Clara. She was clapping and cheering. I gave a slight nod her way.
“Alright, gentlemen,” the announcer finally called. “It is time.” A few men stepped onto the stage.
“Dumas, are you ready?” said one of the men. He was carrying some measuring instruments with him.
Dumas nodded. He took a deep breath. Suddenly, a large translucent sphere formed from his mouth. It expanded into the open air, and as it grew, so did the sounds of the “Ohhhs” and “Ahhhs” from the audience. This was it. The show.
“Twenty-one inch diameter. Very nice, Dumas,” said the man with the measuring equipment. Another man verified the measurements and wrote some notes down on a chart. They walked to me.
“Ready, Mortimer?”
I nodded. I looked over to Clara again. She smiled widely and raised her hands in the air while waving them. I could feel her strength again. She was completely certain that I was going to win this. She was probably right.
People like Dumas, they were good at the sport of Competitive Bubble-Gumming, or CBG, as we called it. There was a reason why I was at the top of the charts, though. My secret weapon Clara.
I had brought my wife to a gum fight, and nobody was going to beat that.