Sweat Zombies

by Raymund Hensley

  “Then promise me something.”

  Anything.

  “Prove that you love me by going into that fitness center and making yourself beautiful for me...all for me.”

  And then you'll be mine? Will you promise ME that?

  I saw her face all close up. She grinned like the devil...moving away...melting into the shadows.

  Elaine?

  Elaine???

  A dead breeze. She was gone. Nothing in my skull but tumbleweeds rolling and bouncing down a dirt road at Sunset.

  When I walked inside the fitness center, a gaggle of people were standing around at the front desk, chatting and nodding and moving their hands around in the air. They were all saying things like: “I want to be beautiful.” “I want this guy I know to want me.” “I want this girl at church to fall in love with me.”

  One of them said, “I feel so ugly,” and they all groaned and nodded in agreement.

  I was shocked. I thought they had beautiful faces. If they were unsightly, it was because they had food stains all over their shirts, holes in their pants, and strange liquids dripping from their elbows. Not one of them washed their hair, and one girl had a whole taco sticking out of her ponytail. One man had a family of flies in his ears. Another must've held the record for World's Longest Toe & Fingernails. And yet...everything smelled normal. I told the receptionist I wanted to sign up. She smiled and slipped me a paper that only read – in huge font – “I am now a member of Sweat Zombies”. I signed it and gave her the first month's fee.

  The owner walked in. She was dressed like a drill sergeant and dragged behind her a long whip. One of the new guys screamed, “Snake!” and ran out waving his arms around. No one laughed. I remember hearing the clanking of weights somewhere behind me and men heave-hoing. Seria cleared her throat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming. If you'll just follow me to our internal racquetball court, we can begin our little meeting of the minds.”

  We all turned a corner and walked into the room with our sneakers squeaking on the court. The walls were glass. The receptionist closed (and locked) the door. Seria cracked her whip. The noise bounced off the walls. We all covered our ears and jumped back and stood shoulder to shoulder. Seria put her hands on her hips and threw her head back and laughed:

  “HA! HA! HA!”

  She spread her stance out and shot us a smile.

  “Thank you all for signing up! Make no mistake, I shall do everything in my power to make sure you become as beautiful as possible. I've done it for twenty years, and I'll do it for many more.”

  We all cheered and slapped our neighbor's back.

  A ghoulish man with bleeding gums yelled, “We're gonna find love! Yayyy!”

  Seria said, “Yeehaw!” and slapped her knee. “You guys and gals got such merriness. That's good.” Her eyes turned evil and her smile turned upside down, and suddenly she was seething. 'CAUSE YOU'RE GONNA NEED IT ON THOSE DREARY NIGHTS ON THE TREADMILLS, CRYING INSIDE 'CAUSE YOU WANNA GIVE UP AND RUN HOME AND CRY ON DADDY'S LAP, HOPING HE'LL PET YOUR HEAD AND MAKE THE BRAIN DEMONS GO AWAY.”

  All got real quiet like. Things got serious. Seria walked down the line, eyeing us out one by one, sniffing at us. We kept our eyes forward. She kept whispering....

  “It'll come for you. Make no bones about it. Be ready. Be careful. The Demon is gonna tell you to give it up. Tell you that exercising won't do a damn thing. That'll you'll be lonely forever – ugly forever. Don't let the Demon get in your head. Fight back. Get mad! You can get what you want! You will have love!”

  We cheered and stomped our feet.

  A sickly woman dragging around an IV drip filled with soda said, “We're gonna find love! Yayyy!”

  Seria cracked her whip. We shut up.

  “Take out the picture of the man or woman of your dreams.”

  We reached into our pockets and wallets and held out our pictures – mine of Elaine. Seria nodded in approval.

  “Splendid,” she said. “Keep it near you at all times. Always remember, you are here to get THAT person to fall in love with you. Keep exercising. Develop the mind of the zombie: Be single-minded...eyes on the goal...keep moving forward.”

  The receptionist opened the glass door. Before Seria walked out, I raised my hand.

  “Madam...why do you care so much about us?”

  Seria looked surprised.

  “The happier you are, the more money I make.” She grinned. “Welcome to Sweat Zombies. God bless.”

  We all said, “God bless.”

  Seria walked out and the receptionist closed the door. We all stood around, looking back and forth at each other. The room filled with chatter. A woman, with what I hoped was just white chocolate on her face, smiled at me.

  “I'm so lonely.”

  I wanted to smile back, but I couldn't. I could hear Elaine in my head, whispering, Don't you do it, fool. Don't you dare give her your eyes.

  There was a crashing sound. We all ran outside. A yellow convertible had crashed into the front door of the fitness center. The driver was a nun. She honked her horn over and over.

  “Death to The Shallow Center!” the nun shrieked. “Death! Death! Death!”

  Seria jumped on the hood of the car and smashed the windshield with a sledgehammer. She was shirtless and topless. All her muscles flexed with each raise of the mighty hammer.

  “I've had it with you, Dramatica! Be gone with ye!”

  This Dramatica nun person reversed. Seria gave out a scream and flew backwards into my arms. Dramatica pulled up to us and pointed to me.

  “She'll curse you, boy! Be warned! Looks does not a lover make!”

  Seria looked up at me.

  “Don't listen to her. She's talking gibberish!”

  Dramatica stepped on the gas and bolted out of there just as the cops appeared in the distance.

  Seria stood up. I didn't realize I had my hands over her breasts. I pulled away, embarrassed. Seria made no mention of it. She raised her arms and addressed the crowd.

  “Nothing to worry about, dearies. Just a disgruntled ex-customer, is all. Proceed with your exercising.”

  I helped pick up pieces of the front door.

  “Ex-customer?”

  Seria shook her head.

  “Dramatica. Yes. She was our first member. She came to me all gross and muddy and underweight. I transformed her into a beautiful beast. She got her man. They got married, and then he left her.”

  “Why?”

  She gave me a worried look.

  “I took her pirate.”

  “Excuse me – pirate?”

  “She married a pirate. His name was Capt. Gold Mouth, because he replaced all his teeth with gold. One day, he came in with his goons – with their swords and peg legs and peg arms and one eyes and booze jugs labeled with Xs – and we fell in love. Made love on the racquetball court. Ah! The passion! The liquids!”

  “Did he have a boat?”

  “Oh, indeed. And what a boat it was, my fine feathered fiend. It flew! Well...floated, more like. Point is, I made hard love on that hunk of wood so many times. See what I did there? Think about it.”

  “Can I meet him? I find pirates fascinating. They travel the globe and get into adventures and shit.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He left me.”

  “Why?”

  “We had a kid.”

  “But having a kid is a bless-ed event.”

  “Not when you're a pirate traveling the globe getting into adventures and shit. He wanted freedom.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I spitted – or spat – into his face and kicked him in the dick. Damn him. He said he was sorry, that he was hopeless, that he was a loser, that he loved me, that he didn't have enough money for child support, that he wanted my mercy. Him having no money? My ass. I know I saw a pile of gold on that ship. In any case, he cried and sailed away. Good! Serves him right. I hope the guilt's eating away his guts.
...Take my advice, lad. Never sleep with a pirate. They're like hippies, only with swords.”

  The cop cars screamed to a stop. Officers jumped out and ran around chanting, “Hut-hut-hut-hut-hut!” They shoved their guns into cars, shopping bags, and baby strollers.

  I found it odd that every officer looked the same: blond hair, blue eyes, a bright smile.

  Seria put on a bra and winked at me.

  “Why don't you go inside and test drive our equipment? Go out there and get strong. You'll get your girl. I believe it.”

  Gregorian chant filled the fitness center. Dressed in red gym shorts, and a black tank top I wasn't worthy parading myself around in, I sat on a bench and picked up a three pound dumbbell and did some curls.

  “Ha! This is easy.”

  How are your hands?

  I looked around.

  It was Elaine, standing with her fists on her hips and looking furious. I sat up and dropped the dumbbell.

  “Elaine! What are you doing here?”

  Someone went, “Shh!” Others looked at me all funny, but shrugged it off and went back to their exercises.

  I hushed up.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Elaine shook her head. She was close to crying.

  You bastard....Touching BREASTS!

  “Come again?”

  Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Bastard....I saw what you did back there. You touched her BREASTS. I knew it. You don't want me.

  “Forgive me. I didn't know. I wasn't thinking.”

  Well...I don't have time for idiots that don't think. Goodbye.

  She walked away. I jumped off the bench and held on to her foot, begging.

  “No! Please! I love you, Elaine! I love only you!”

  After a second of nothing, I opened my eyes. I was on the ground, holding the dumbbell against my cheek. People walked by, snickering. I got up and dusted myself off and fussed with my shorts. The person that shushed me earlier was staring, afraid. I gave a weak smile.

  “I'm rehearsing for a play about a man with a weak heart. Pity him.”

  Again, the place was filled with the sounds of working out – the metal on metal, the groaning, the yelling, the encouraging, the weeping, the stink of sweat. I pumped harder. I'd make myself beautiful for Elaine. I looked over my shoulder and saw her peeking around a corner. She grinned and gave me the thumbs up. I was doing good. She approved. Inspired, I worked faster. I began to drip. My arms ached. I moaned through it....Soon, she'd see me in a whole, new light. I'd be attractive, and, like Seria said, I'd get my chance to get close to her. She'd finally open up to me. She'd finally open her heart to me. She'd run screaming to me with arms and mouth and legs wide open. My soul sung out! I was in bliss! My fellow fitness members smiled and nodded and clapped for me. Someone threw confetti. A young boy dressed like Pan – complete with goat legs – danced around and played the flute. Someone pulled on a string. Balloons fell all around us. I threw my head back and kept working that dumbbell.

  All were merry.

  It's all true: Exercise does cure depression.

  An hour later, and my arms felt like they were covered in stomach acid. I gripped my left arm and leaned back and massaged the pain and groaned, “Ooooooooooooooooooooooh.” The burn, as they called it....That sweet, sweet burn. I was on the right path. Soon, I'd have arms the size of horse legs. That was important. I wanted to be able to pick Elaine up on our wedding day and spin her around in the air so I could hear her laughter – laughter that would fill me with a ton of gayness. I'd carry her on my shoulder and wave goodbye to everyone as I ran through traffic, kicking cars away with my spectacular horse legs. At the richest hotel, I'd jump through a window into our honeymoon suite, right onto the bed. We'd play pillow fight and gag happily like children.

  I'd stare into her face – hypnotizing her as sweet piano music played somewhere. She'd collapse on me and run her mouth-meat all over my bewildered and bewildering eyes. I'd have no choice but to seizure in ecstasy. My fingers would shoot in her mouth and play around inside. Mmm. We'd kiss....I'd be loving – tender, even. My tongue would be maniacal, yet understanding. I'd peel her clothes off using only my mouth with the expertise of a spider. She'd giggle in demonic amusement, then shriek in thickening pleasure that would surely break the camel's back. We'd hug each other in a tight way – she'd have no choice but to expel her erotic breathing onto my grateful, flaring nostrils. Then would come the great, slippery thrust of compassion. I'd have to be gentle, or course. Gentle like a spring chicken....Angels would cry in joy over our lovemaking – a lovebrewing between beasts that no other mortal or immortal can ever experience.

  I believed that deep down, we're all romantics. Find the one that sets your internal organs ablaze. That inspired passion....It is the Big Bang itself.

  Someone dropped a dumbbell on their foot and yelled out, pulling me back into the real world. It felt like a movie camera had zoomed out of my face. Disoriented, I pinched away the coming of a headache between my eyes and looked around. My bench was wet with a copious amount of my filth. I reached into my gym bag and yanked out a towel and wiped down the bench. Seria walked up to me. She wore a red bandana and twirled a pair of nunchucks in one hand and ate a banana in the other.

  “You're pretty good with that rag.”

  “I practice on myself.”

  She squinted at me.

  “Be honest with me, boy. Why are you here? Why are you really here?”

  I stood up and flung the gross towel over my shoulder. It lashed out a stream of sweat that slapped a woman in the face. She wasn't fazed one bit – totally into her workout – totally in 'the zone'.

  “To get a girl,” I said, trying to sound as pathetic as possible.

  Seria asked if I was working. I said I was fired. She looked worried.

  “Women don't like guys that don't have jobs, no matter how much muscle you have on your bones. You also need muscle in your wallet.”

  “Screw it. I'll never make more money than the guy she's with. He has a rich family. His pops invented that machine that puts ghosts into household devices.”

  Seria finished her banana – peel and all – and put her nunchucks into her belt.

  “But this guy – who's most likely having sex with the girl of your dreams as we speaketh – still works?”

  “I heard he got a job bathing the elderly. Yea, so what of it!? God loves him so much – he can keep him!” I walked over to the weight stand, got two dumbbells that were too big for my own good, and did alternating curls like I was injected with a hundred crazy people. “I'm working, too! You sayin' THIS isn't work? This is a full-time job! I'm working here! Yaaarrrgghhhh!”

  A great, surging energy possessed me. I pumped so hard – so fast – the dumbbells almost flew out of my hands. My arms looked like toothpicks taped to quarters. I did my best impression of a werewolf and growled. My face was tense and filled with so much blood, it felt like exploding....People looked and whispered and pointed. Many were afraid. I yelled out in agony. My arms were shrieking. Spit dangled off my chin. Seria tilted her head to one side and smiled like a mother breastfeeding her newborn child. I saw myself in a nearby mirror-wall. For some odd reason, my reflection was in slow-motion. If that wasn't weird enough, my reflection wasn't even looking at me – just pumping away as Gregorian chant played. And then my head turned into Satan....My mind sighed. All that energy flew out of my eyes in the form of pathetic tears....My arms couldn't handle anymore torture. Coming to my senses, I dropped the dumbbells. The ground shook. I collapsed on the bench, massaging my arms, crying in that forceful way babies do so well. Very embarrassing. My hands vomited blood in rhythm with my heartbeat.

  Seria stepped behind me, picked me up, and raised my arms to the gawkers.

  “Passion; dedication; true love. He's just another lovesick warrior like yourselves, doing his best to make the most of himself. Please, continue with your workout. Mahalo.”

  I took in a deep breath and sa
t on the bench. My heart slowed down (as did the blood loss).

  “I don't want to look for a job. All I want to do is workout and look good...for her.”

  Seria grabbed my blood-hands and examined them.

  “You have laughing fingers,” she said, nodding. “You'll do well here.”

  She whistled, waved around her nunchucks to impress me, and walked away. A phone rang. She ran over to a muscleman and snatched away his phone, threw it into the air, and jump kicked it. The phone exploded in a shower of glitter. Seria tiptoed, reached up, grabbed the man's tall face and squeezed.

  “No phones! I hate phones! I hate noise! Can't you see we're all concentrating!”

  He wept.

  “I'm sorry, master.”

  She let him go and sauntered away, twirling around her nunchucks. The muscleman just stood there, head down, pouting, his hands folded over his crotch. People walked by and laughed to make themselves feel better. At least their eyes were off me. I sniffed and wiped away my tears and bent down to pick up my dumbbells. I froze. Something was wrong with the ground – at the spot where they fell. I leaned in for a better look. I felt the ground.

  There was a large lump.

  And it was growing.

  After three hours of playing racquetball with Pippy – the girl from earlier with questionable white “stuff” on her face – she couldn't take anymore.

  “I have to rest,” she said. “You win. Again.”

  Pippy ended up on her back, hyperventilating, begging me to let her sleep for a few minutes. I didn't mind, and threw a ball against the wall and played with myself. I heard the door open. Nikki came in. She wanted to play. It took all my mental effort to not look at her in a lustful way. I didn't sense Elaine anywhere around. Still, I did my best to control my primitive male mind. We played over Pippy's body. It was a long, intense game. We were sweating and stink. Nikki asked to have a sip of my water bottle. Without thinking, I let her. She reached for it. Again, everything turned into slow-motion.

  She sucked on the bottle's mouth....Water ran down her white shirt, outlining her breasts....Her eyes rolled up....

  “I'm so hot,” she said, still in slow-motion. “I'mmmm soooo haaaaaawt.”

  She sounded like a hippopotamus. Nikki poured water all over her head. She whipped her hair from side to side, complete with lashing sounds. She exhaled. Her spit splashed onto my lips. I was in a daze. Something in my heart sparked. A terrible fear took hold of me. I jumped up and broke the spell.