by Diane Lang
“Can’t this time,” I said. “I have church in the morning.”
“Can’t you skip it this once?”
“Not really. The minister said he needed to talk to me about something very important. He said to make sure I show up. Man, you look like hell,” I told Robb.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse, dude. What’s with you?”
“Nothing. That’s the best way to describe how you look.”
Robb tried to laugh it off, but I could tell he wasn’t real happy about the wall–to–wall zits on his face. “Must have been all the vodka I drank. I think I’m allergic or something. My parents are making me go to the skin doctor tomorrow. Hey, you want to put a pizza in or something?”
Robb seemed glad to hang out with me; he ignored all his phone calls, even the ones from Carly. “Destin was fun and all, but it sure is good to get home—we had eight guys in a room and only three towels. It got nasty after a few days. I think I drank enough to last me for three spring breaks.”
“Did something happen with you and Carly?”
“Don’t mention that bitch’s name to me.” Then Robb went on about how Carly got drunk every night and flirted with every guy who looked at her. And how she got in a wet t–shirt contest and you could see everything. Then he caught her with some redneck who was way older than she is.
“That did it, man. I’m through with that little tramp. Man, that really killed me.” Then he put his fists on his head, and I thought he was going to cry. “I loved her, Jimmy. At least I thought I did. And she goes and does this to me.”
Robb didn’t bring her name up again. We played XBOX for a couple of hours, ate pizza, then my dad came and got me.
Sunday, 4–15
Today at church, my youth minister asked me to give a talk about all the weight I lost and how my faith helped me. He said he wanted me to speak spontaneously, from the heart and all. So, before I had time to think about it, there I was standing in front of Sable and the rest of the kids in my group with the minister smiling, saying, “Jimmy’s going to speak today. His is a story of how faith in God can turn your life around.”
All the kids started clapping and cheering, which gave me a minute to think about what I was going to say. The minister said to speak from the heart, and so I did. Sable recorded my talk and I transcribed some of it here. Hope this counts as a journal entry. Anyway, here goes:
“Hey, guys, thanks for the applause.” (I take a deep breath here.) “I’m not sure my faith in God helped me with my weight loss, but my faith in God gave me faith in myself. Even when I was really big, and kids and adults laughed at me or didn’t want anything to do with me, God always made me feel that I was a good person. That what I was on the outside didn’t take away from who I was on the inside—a normal kid who just wanted to fit in. A kid who liked school, despite his tormentors, a kid with a family that really cared about him, a kid who wished he could play sports and loved video games. You guys really helped me a lot too. Some of you have known me ever since I was a little kid, and no matter how big I got you guys always accepted me. Maybe that’s because you knew me as Jimmy, not as a fat freak. Our pastor spoke often at church about ‘Judge not, lest ye be judged,’ and I guess you all took that to heart.
“I don’t understand people who judge others—God made us all different so we wouldn’t get bored here on earth. Since there are no two people exactly alike, you could spend your whole life judging. Isn’t that what judging is all about anyway? Putting down people because they are different from you? But everybody’s different, so it makes no sense to me. Of course, I was different from other kids in a BIG way.” (Laughter)
“So I guess it was easier to judge me than most kids. It was when that judging turned into out–and–out meanness that I almost lost hope and faith in God. I even considered killing myself, but not for more than a few hours. God got in the middle of all that and saved me. He didn’t speak to me directly, but he spoke to me through one of my best friends. God showed me that my problems were very small compared to other people’s problems, like my friend Paul, who you all know. He faced bigger problems than me, problems harder to solve than losing weight. Another one of my friends couldn’t keep from hurting herself, and in helping her, I learned to help myself. I realized that overeating was just as bad, not in the same way, but with the same consequences. So with the help of God, my parents, and my friends. I began to take care of my body. The kids picking on me didn’t matter any more; what mattered was the realization that I was killing myself, only in a slow way. Suddenly, I didn’t want to do that anymore. I had too much to live for. I wanted to feel good, try out for sports, learn about the world, but most of all, to be in good enough shape to do the things kids are supposed to do. Before I lost weight, I couldn’t run, couldn’t dive in a pool, couldn’t climb the Sleeping Bear Dunes with my family, and I would never be able to fly across the rain forest on a zip line, something I’ve always wanted to do.
“So, you can see, I’ve almost achieved my goal—And to be honest, I’m not sure how I got to be so big in the first place. All I remember is playing video games, learning my saxophone and then I look around and I’m a big, fat somebody else. My fat was a great big security blanket which kept me from participating in the world. But I thank God my family supports me; my parents are great people and would do anything for me. But sometimes things happen to us because they just happen. It’s up to us not to blame anyone or give up. It’s up to us to ask God for help to change our lives and get back on the right track. And that’s what I learned from being a big, fat kid.” (Applause) (“Way to go, Jimmy!”)
Wednesday, 4–18
I’ve almost reached my goal, sixty pounds less of Jimmy. If I stand on the scale just right, I weigh 148 pounds—that’s a loss of forty-seven pounds. Only thirteen pounds to go. I can’t believe I managed to lose all that weight. All my teachers have commented on how good I look, even you. Thanks for the compliment, Mrs. Pope. The funniest thing that happened was when I went down to the gym to work out one day after school. (I had a couple hours to kill before a jazz concert). Coach Bronner walked by and when I said “Hey,” he stopped, trying to figure out who I was. “Do I know you, son?” he asked.
“I’m Jimmy Winterpock,” I said. “Remember me, from PE? I’m the fat kid that everyone made fun of. Only I’m not so fat anymore.”
“No kidding,” he said. “You look great, Jimmy. You don’t look like the same kid. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. ”
“Well, I did get contacts,” I said.
Coach laughed. “You got more than that.” He patted me on the back. “Way to go, Jimmy. You won the game.” He stared at me for a minute. “You need a spotter?”
“That’d be cool,” I said.
Things have been happening to me like this a lot lately. I’m still the same kid on the inside, but my outside is different. Sometimes I look in the mirror and don’t recognize the kid standing in front of me. The biggest change is in my face and chest. I’ve lost my “man boobs” and you can actually see the bones in my face. My balloon face has deflated into one with actual features. I catch my mom staring at me in the mornings when I’m at the breakfast table. My sister doesn’t try to hide her astonishment. She puts her hands on my face and punches my back and keeps saying, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. You did it. You really did it.” But I understand. I can hardly believe it myself when I look into the mirror.
Thursday, 4–19
I can’t believe spring break’s over and we’ve been back in school for three days already. Robb’s really scared, because he thinks he’s forgotten everything he learned. We know he can do the problems when I’m there with him, but he says he’s going to panic during the exam. “I just don’t do well on tests. I don’t care how well I know it, my mind blanks out. It gets all quiet and the teacher watches me like a hawk and it just freaks me out.”
I told Robb he needs to pretend he’s sitting at his kitche
n table and forget about everything else. He had the brilliant idea of pretending he was in a classroom while doing problems at his kitchen table. He made his mom and dad leave the kitchen while I sat there staring at him like I was Mr. L, with puckered lips, bugged eyes and all. That didn’t work very well because we both kept cracking up. Now Robb says he’s going to crack up when Mr. L gives him the evil eye during tests. I told him I think that’s better than sitting there all nervous. He said I just might have a point.
Saturday, 4–21
Yesterday, I went to the school baseball game with my dad. It was a great afternoon for a game since it wasn’t as hot as last week. People know I’ve lost a lot of weight and I can see them looking. I can even sense that my dad is proud of me, but he never says much in public about it. We sat behind the screen on the third base side, where our team’s dugout is. One neat thing is that the guy who threw out the first pitch was one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. I don’t think he has ever played ball before, but he got it pretty close to the catcher. Everyone cheered for him when they announced him. My dad told me his story during the first inning. I can’t imagine walking 1200 miles barefoot while being chased by lions and hyenas. The kid was tall and thin and his skin was the color of coal. His baseball hat was way too big and it hung down on his ears but he smiled a big smile anyway. When he walked by, I shook his hand. He seemed very gentle and from what Dad had told me about the Lost Boys, I think my struggle was nothing compared to his.
The game was a good one and we hit a home run in the bottom of the sixth to win. Roston High got the bases loaded in the top of the seventh, but we turned a double play to end the game. I think that if we can win the next few games, we get in the playoffs. I overheard some fathers talking about our players and one of them, Matt O’Connell, is going to Ohio State on a scholarship, which is pretty cool. Maybe he’ll play for the Reds one day, and I can say I went to high school with him.
I didn’t realize until halfway through the game that Nate and his dad were sitting in the next set of bleachers over. I saw Nate’s dad look over at us while he was talking to Nate. The next inning, while the pitcher was warming up, his dad got up and started walking toward us. I got nervous and my dad sat up. When he got to us, he shook my dad’s hand and then mine. He told me, “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished this year.” Then he turned to my dad and said, “And so should you.” He kind of hesitated and looked real hard at my dad. “We all have our goals.”
It feels good now but I hope I never forget the way it was. Otherwise, I might be right back there. All it takes is Little Debbies, Whoppers and ice cream.
No way.
Sunday, 4–22
We had a great time at Kings Island yesterday. It was really cool, especially since it was just for freshman. The rest of the school goes next week some time. I heard our class goes by itself because the freshman class is always the largest. I don’t know where all the freshman go when they get older, maybe to special trade schools or they drop out, but ever since the school opened there have always been more freshman.
Sable hung out with me and Allen, and we had lots of fun, even though waiting in lines all day was a pain. And it was hot. Allen couldn’t go on any of the really fast rides because his heart doctor told him not to, but he stood in line with us until we got on. The roller coaster lines took forever to get through; I think we talked about everything we know by the time we got to the front. When we went down the first big hill, Sable screamed so loud it hurt my ears. Then we rode the bumper cars and I ran her into the wall and she nearly bounced out of the car. After that we rode on the merry–go–round and talked about the cool stuff we are going to do this summer. We really had a blast.
This morning I was really tired but I went to church anyway. Afterward, we went to Bob Evans for lunch. I didn’t do much the rest of the day except study. I’m almost done with The Odyssey, but my favorite book is still Lord of the Flies. (I even like Piggy now.)
Dad and I are going to the baseball game again tomorrow. Dad said he would rather go to our games at school than to a Reds game. He thinks pro games cost way too much money nowadays. I think I’ll call Allen to see if he wants to go with us. Kids aren’t bothering him as much; he’s even lost a few pounds. He said the other day if I could turn into a cool, skinny kid, then maybe he has a chance. I just laughed, because we both know that I’ll never be a cool kid, no matter how much weight I lose. And you know, I don’t even want to be one. Not if it means turning out like Nate.
Thursday, 4–26
Tonight I tutor Robb in math. Last week Mr. L told him that if he keeps working hard, he should have no problem passing Algebra I. And I think he’s doing pretty good in his Algebra II class too. That would be great because he really has tried to do his best. Everyone has something they’re good at, I suppose. Robb called yesterday to make sure we were still on for tonight. It makes me feel good to help him, but he doesn’t want his buddies to know that he is getting help from a freshman. I can understand that.
This morning I saw a bluebird at the suet feeder Mom put in the backyard. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one. Probably sometime last fall, maybe even before we moved. When the light hit it just right, it was such a bright blue, it was like a piece of the sky flying around on earth. I called Mom to see it, but the bird flew away before she got there. I’ll pay more attention and show her one this week.
It’s almost time for Robb to come over so I need to eat dinner. Only five more Mondays to get up and then it will be summer. What a crazy school year!
Friday, 4–27
God really is testing me. Not as bad as He tested Job, but almost. What more can happen to my close friends? I feel like that guy on Lost—the big kid who won the lottery by using unlucky numbers. After he won, he brought bad luck to everyone associated with him. Guess you heard about Allen and how he fell over in PE class. I heard Coach Simmons made all the kids run around the gym for goofing off, and I guess it was too much for Allen. I didn’t know that anything happened until lunchtime. Sable came running up to me and told me about how Coach performed CPR and then the ambulance came. We were afraid he’d died of a heart attack. I was glad when the principal came over the intercom and said Allen Zuekerman was doing better. His doctor said he would be just fine in a week or two.
Mom sent him a get–well card, and I’m going to visit him as soon as he can have visitors. Leave it to Allen to scare everybody half to death.
What’s sick about the whole thing is that some kids still made fun of him. Acting like they were falling and putting their hands over their heart. I don’t get what goes through some people’s heads. When I told my mom about it, she said it’s all about people judging others but never themselves. I watched a news show once where they were interviewing Mother Teresa. She said, “If we’re too busy judging, then we don’t have time to love,” or something like that. She was really a cool lady. I mean nun. Whatever.
Tuesday, 5–1
Miracles of miracles. Spencer actually told me he was sorry about Allen. I was at my locker when he came up to me. “Hey, man. I’m really sorry about what happened.”
I looked at him in disbelief and my first reaction was to punch him. But he did look really sorry, so I just shrugged and told him not to worry about it.
“Is he going to be okay?” Spencer asked.
“Who?”
“Allen. I heard he had a heart attack.”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. He’s gonna be fine. I went to see him Sunday.”
“Glad he’s hanging in there.”
I turned back to my locker and didn’t say anything else to him, so he left. I still don’t get him. He pretended to be friends with me and Allen and even defended us. But in the end he betrayed us, especially me. It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, how did setting me up make his life any different or any better? Maybe for a day he was sort of a hero and got a few laughs. But now he has to live with what he did. I certainly do. For a jerk like Nate, this wouldn’t be a
big deal, but Spencer’s different. I think deep down he’s really a nice guy—he just got caught up in what Robb calls the “jock mentality.” Robb said his cousin played football at UT and the football team really did some awful things to this hooker who came to one of their parties. His cousin feels really ashamed of what he did. He says he’ll have to live with it for the rest of his life and that he’ll never get over it. Whenever he sees guys acting crude around a woman, he always tells them to knock it off. It’s his way of trying to make up for what he did. This is how I bet Spencer feels. That’s why he said he was sorry about Allen. He just can’t apologize to me yet.
Thursday, 5–3
Seems weird to have both Sable and Allen back in school. Neither of them looks any different, except Allen has lost a little weight. I’m probably the only one that noticed though. Poor Allen, he’s on this strict diet, way worse than Weight Watchers, and says he’s starving most of the time. He said he’d kill for french fries; I told him they would kill him first. I was sorry as soon as I said it. But he just laughed and said he didn’t want to go back to the hospital again. “Ever since I saw the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, I don’t trust hospitals, especially nurses. They tried to talk to me about eating too much. And some of them are bigger than me,” Allen grumbled. That’s what I don’t get. There are more overweight adults than overweight kids, but it’s us kids who get ridiculed the most. I guess it’s because people think of kids as naturally skinny, and middle–aged adults as naturally fat. But fat is fat, no matter what age a person is. Bad is bad.
I forgot to mention the latest news about the second victim. She was another overweight teenage girl but a couple of years younger than Kimberly Taylor. She went to school at Westwood High, way on the other side of town. If Paul was around, I bet he would want us to go check it out. It really makes me wonder if the killer found out Paul was trying to catch him. Maybe losing weight is saving me in more ways than I know.