“The Lady and the Champ,” a Short Story told strictly in dialogue. 1,000 word limit.

Warning:  Pure dialogue leaves a lot up for interpretation. Don’t miss anything.  🙂

The Lady and the Champ by Pamela Schloesser Canepa    Copyright, 2016.

 

“Bill, how about tonight?”

“Trish, you know it’s not been enough time since the accident, and I can’t take another pill today.  I’m sorry.  Please be patient.”

“I’m trying, hon’.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look.  You know what the doctor said.  I’m just, really hurting. One more pill and my blood pressure may skyrocket.”

“I didn’t know you’d already taken so many pills.  I didn’t know it was still this bad.  I’m sorry.   I try to understand how you’re feeling, and I’ve been patient.  Just, never mind, Bill.  No arm wrestling; it’s okay.  Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”

“No, Trish.  There’s really not.  Well, maybe, fix me some of your excellent Texas cheese toast?”

“Of course.  Let me go do that.”

“You’re really so understanding.  How did I get so lucky to have a wife like you?”

“You were the most gentlemanly guy that came off the boat that night.  Of course, those muscles of yours probably caught my eye.”

“That’s the spirit.  Remember me that way.  We’ll get through this.”

*****

“Here you go, honey, just as you like it.”

“You’re not having any?”

“Not hungry.  I think I’ll just watch the boxing match.”

“You need to get out there and make some friends.  Don’t spend all your time with a sick, broken man like me.”

“That accident was not your fault, Bill.  I don’t need to be out gallavantin’ around and leaving you here to wallow in misery.  I don’t intend to, either.  We’ve only been married a year, and I don’t plan to neglect our marriage.  I want to be here for you.  We’ll just sit here and watch the match.”

“Why don’t you call up that gal, Becky?  Go out for a night on the town.”

“Nope.”

“Just go to a movie, girl, you need to get out.  I can’t stand seeing you housebound here with me, a twenty-three-year-old girl, full of energy, pretty as anything.  Go out and have some fun.  I trust you, really.”

“No, Bill.  I told you, I’m staying here and that’s all there is to it.”

“Go see Jared down the hall.  He’ll be good for practice.”

“What are you saying???!!What do you mean?”

“Well, look at the muscles on him.”

“I don’t want him!  I only want you!  Stop this!  Stop!  Stop!”

“Trish, I’m just saying, he’d be good for keeping you in shape, warmed up, ready for the next round.”

“You mean..”

“I mean the next arm wrestling match.  No, I’m not suggesting you run to his arms for comfort and love.  Gosh!  What do you think I am?   I know that’s not like you, and honestly, the thought sickens me.”

“Oh, what a relief.”

“But, please know, if I found out you did such a thing, I’d probably forgive you.  It can’t be easy hanging out here with a broken body like mine.  Heck, it’s probably like being married to an old man.   Sometimes I feel sorry for you.”

“Baby, I would never, ever look on someone else that way.  I don’t want anyone else.  I will wait for you.”

“Ouch.  Move your arm, please.  I’m still sore in that shoulder.  That’s not even the worst one.  See.  I can’t even stand you touching me right now.  Can’t even hug your old man.”

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry.  Really.  Our money-making plans can wait.  Don’t worry.  I’ll keep in shape.  You’ll get better, and get back in shape.  We can do this.  Sorry, I know, I won’t touch you on the arm either.  Oh, I’m just, sorry.”

“Baby, don’t cry.  Just, can you please, just, let me sleep a while?”

“That feels good, you running your fingers through my hair, even if I have to sit on the floor.  Just keep on doing that, okay?  Well, ‘til you fall asleep.”

“Look at us.  You have to lean against my wheelchair, and the only way I can show you love is to play with your hair.  But not for too long, even that will make my arm tired soon.  You just don’t know how blessed I feel.  I truly know how lucky I am that you are my wife, that you’re still around…”

“Bill?  You stopped….Oh.  Asleep. Oh, well.  It was nice for a moment.  It’ll happen, Bill.  You’ll be fighting again soon; I’ll be a pro arm-wrestler.  Such a unique show we are together.”

****

 

“Honey?  Where are you?”

“I’m right here, Bill.  Had to clean up the kitchen.  Besides, you were sleeping.  You don’t have to worry about me sneaking out or running off.  I promise.”

“Trish, babe, I told you, I trust you.  No, it’s not that.  Look, out the window.  Jared is here.  Go catch him in the hall; see if he’s game.  If I can’t win any fights, maybe you can keep your game ready and win some matches.”

“Really?  Is this what you were dreaming about?”

“Hon’, you’ve got the beauty, the bod, and the strength to be a total knock-out, in more ways than one.  Don’t let it rest just because I have to.  Go on.  I know you’ll be back.  Believe me, I don’t expect anything bad to come out of this.  Jared’s a good guy, anyhow.  Knows my situation.  Really.  Just go, catch him in the hall like you just happened to be there, too.  Then, you make small talk, on the topic of arm-wrestling.  I’ll bet he didn’t know that about you.”

“Well, okay, I guess.”

“There he is, hear the outer door opening?  Go to him.  He’ll be willing, I’m sure.  He may be a good match, even.  Don’t look so glum!  I’ll be up and at it in no time.  In the meantime, have fun, and let me know how the arm-wrestling match goes.”

“Okay, Bill.  But keep remembering, I wish it was you.”

“I know, honey, don’t I know it.  I’ll be wishing it, too.”

 

*This story was in reaction to a short story contest, which I ultimately did not enter as I had too much going on.  I will say this, it was a challenge! There were so many spaces between the words leaving room for interpretation and innuendo.  Or maybe I intended that?  Your constructive comments are welcome. I don’t plan to re-write this; it is a snapshot.   What did you get out of it, without the benefit of setting and character background?  As always, thanks for reading!*

 

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