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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Childhood / Youth
- Published: 09/18/2014
The Fridge
Born 1954, M, from De Rust Western Cape, South Africa.jpg)
The Fridge.
By Jeff Glazier
What Graham Nicklaus liked the most depended upon the time of day – or night. For breakfast he favoured double cream raspberry yoghurt, often with buttermilk biscuits. This was of course followed by a traditional bacon and egg sandwich with their thick slices of white bread – ‘doorsteps’ his mum called them, and she liked them just as much as him. Lunch on school days were usually snacks, his mum would be at work but would leave him something. Perhaps a big packet of chips and chocolate ice cream straight from the five litre tub would sustain him, along with the two litre coke. Evening meals would be more organised. Tonight would be rather special. It was his mum’s birthday. Pork belly, and she had ordered a Black Forest Gateau – that took some beating. The conversation was steered well away from the follow-up consultation with Dr Dower regarding Graham’s weight.
Graham woke in the middle of the night as usual. He soon found himself at the fridge staring through the half-open door at the piece of gateau that somehow escaped being eaten, and a tempting milk tart. He bent down as far as his stomach would allow, captured the cake then took it without mercy to the kitchen table.
The following day was uncomfortably hot. It was late afternoon when Graham stood on the doctor’s scales, sweating, red in the face, his shirt and tie undone. The doctor glanced at the dial. “Hmm – I can see that the dietary advice given to you hasn’t exactly been followed.” There was clear rebuke in his comment. He looked to the boy’s mother, “by either of you, if you don’t mind me saying, Mrs Nicklaus.” Mrs Nicklaus looked away. “Tell me,” the doctor continued, “how are things at home? The last time we met your husband . . .”
“He’s left us, I’m afraid, it’s only made matters worse. He works away a lot you remember, he sends us money though, we just don’t see him anymore. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The doctor rejected further discussion as to why? and concentrated on her son. “I see that you’re turning thirteen soon Graham, high school in six months or so. What do you like doing best Graham, any ambitions?”
“He likes cars, like his dad does, wants to be a racing car driver.” His mum answered for him.
“From what I know the cars are quite small Graham.”
“I liked rugby, just got a bit slow, don’t get picked anymore.”
“How is school?” His mum answered for him.
“They taunt him, and call him names. There are some bad boys. Dirk Headly and Francis Boyd, the school bullies – they call Graham ‘The Fridge.’”
“Children can be quite cruel, I know.” The doctor conceded.
“They also call me dickless, they can’t see it under my stomach . . .”
“It’s terrible,” Mrs Nicklaus added, “they still make the boys shower together after sport. I’ve spoken to the headmaster about it.”
“Well, they are unkindly pointing out a problem. I think you must agree things are out of control. Over the years we’ve talked about you being big boned Graham, and of course puppy fat but . . .”
“We’ll make a bigger effort Graham won’t we?” Graham just shrugged. The doctor was unconvinced.
“We could try something else . . . there’s a new product out, cutting edge for eating disorders. Actually they are looking for volunteers for more clinical trials, it’s a pill . . .”
“We’ve tried slimming pills before . . .” Mrs Nicklaus sounded sceptical.
“We’re not talking about slimming here, we’re talking about the need for dramatic weight loss. What this product does is fool the brain, it tells the stomach that it’s full. It’s particularly effective for children, it’s complicated to explain as to why, but there has been little success with adults. There are a few side effects, but none too serious. It could work for you Graham. I think that you could enter high school holding your head high rather than your stomach in.”
So they agreed to start the trial, a certain amount of conventional diet would also be needed, and the importance that the rules be adhered to was emphasised. Graham took his first little blue pill that evening.
In the middle of the night he once again found himself standing at the fridge. He tentatively opened it and struggling to bend down peered inside. There was a large slice of milk tart lying lonely on a plate. Feeling sorry for it he reached in. Suddenly his hand was grabbed, and before he could shout out he was hauled inside the fridge, its door slammed! And then there was darkness. After a moment he half expected to wake up. Instead he found himself in an unfamiliar room with a large oblong table where, at a rough count, about twenty children were seated. A soft melodic voice came from nowhere. “Graham, we’ve been expecting you, so pleased that you can join us, aren’t we everybody?” There was a collective, rather laboured ‘hello Graham.’ “Please, take a seat.” The voice continued. A chair was pulled back at the bottom of the table. Graham advanced, slowly scanning the children. They all looked around his age, boys and girls. From the top to the bottom of the table they were in descending order of size. At the very top was a girl, she was pretty and she stood up to welcome him. She was called Sandra. He couldn’t help but notice how slim and shapely she was. Graham found himself between a boy almost as big as himself and a rather heavy weight girl. They both had to move their chairs more to accommodate him. Everyone was in their pyjamas. Graham hadn’t been to a pyjama party before, he wondered if they were all as strange as this?
The voice spoke again. “Right everybody, we are going to the water park if everyone is ready?” There was a collective cheer then a scraping back of chairs. “Apart from numbers fourteen to twenty-two.” There was a groan and those numbers slumped back. Graham hadn’t yet got up from his chair, which he now noticed was numbered twenty-two. The rest of the excited children left.
The voice continued. “Some of you are new here, you may be excused from my comments, but some of you clearly haven’t been obeying the rules. Some heads went down. “Have you something to tell us Jessica?” Jessica stood up looking very guilty.
“Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I found myself in a . . . MacDonald’s.” There was a sharp intake of breath from some of the children.
“Well let’s just hope that it was only out of force of habit. As punishment, you will miss the Justin Bieber concert – and the backstage pass.” The girl dissolved into tears and much pleading, which was ignored. “Anybody else? You know you have to admit to any indiscretion, you will be found out.” A boy hanging his head stood up and spoke. You could hear his bulging stomach churn.
“I don’t know how it happened . . . I think someone must have given me it . . . it was a . . .” then he spoke very quietly and quickly.
“Speak up please . . .”
“It was a kilo bag of Chocolate Tumbles.”
“Oh, a kilo!” was repeated by some children, looking shocked at each other.
“Not so bad on the face of it.” The boy’s plump face brightened. “Unless you ate them that is.” Then he hung his head. The voice sighed. “You will miss the Rugby Championship final. The rest of us will be in a complimentary box.” The boy sat down heavily with a promise that it would never happen again. A slim young man entered the room. He carried a tray with glasses and a box containing large pink pills. Without speaking he set a glass and a pill in front of each child. The voice told everyone to take the pill. Then close their eyes for thirty seconds. When Graham opened his eyes he was standing outside his fridge. He daren’t open its door and hurriedly went straight back to bed.
The morning had him puzzling. He didn’t know whether to tell his mum about his experience, no doubt she would tell him that he’d been dreaming. It worried him though, so much so that he didn’t want much breakfast. In fact during the whole of that week his cravings had virtually disappeared, by the end of it he was easily able to do up the top button of his shirt. He was taking two blue pills a day now, almost full strength. The doctor had stressed that he have resolve, backsliding was always a possibility.
It was late one afternoon when in a moment of weakness and almost on auto pilot, as if in a day dream, he went into the supermarket and hovered dangerously close to a freezer full of Magnums. He just couldn’t resist and slid open the top of the cabinet. It was as his outstretched hand clasped the new Double Delight that he was pulled in. The next moment he was back inside the room that he’d been into a week ago. The voice was reproachful. “Graham, I’m disappointed in you, we’re all disappointed in you.” The children were all nodding their heads in agreement. “We’re all going to the funfair, apart from you – and Clemence over there,” (Clemence stood in a corner on his own), “it is fair that you have no fun. Don’t let it happen again Graham.” The slim man appeared and gave them both a little pink pill. In the next instant he found himself staring dreamlike into the chest full of ice creams. He closed the sliding top and hastily left the supermarket.
During the next two weeks Graham behaved himself. He was now on three pills a day and it was obvious that he was losing weight. His mum had also slimmed down, they encouraged each other. Graham had a new set of clothes, his dad had paid for them, they were three sizes smaller. His mum also bought a new outfit, she looked dead smart. They had decided to go away part way through the long summer holiday, just up the coast to a family adventure camp. Graham so wished that his dad would be there. He paid for it though. It looked a great place; apart from the beach and sea there was a water park with a huge pool, an amusement arcade, all sorts of fun things.
He’d only been there for a few hours when he spotted someone familiar doing lengths with great purpose in the pool – it was Clemence. He was delighted to see Graham and the two boys played and competed for the whole holiday. It was a wonderful week, and they returned tanned and slimmer. Graham was now in fine shape and had no further lapses – until:
It happened when he was walking past KFC. He must have been drawn by the lingering smell of French fries in the air. He found himself staring at the tempting menu that was lit up above the counter – the double chicken and cheeseburger and chips with a coke. He counted the coins in his pocket, he also had enough for the battered chicken legs with sauces and chips, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed a discreet token salad bar. He leaned towards it, his feet reluctant to follow. Eventually he pulled away from the counter and found himself reaching in for the ‘salad surprise.’ Then he got the surprise – in the next second he was in the strange room full of children. They were cheering and clapping, he saw a chair pulled out ready for him – and it was near the top of the table, close to Sandra. He glanced down to the bottom and the sad faced fat kids looking uncomfortable.
The voice spoke. “Graham, I hardly recognised you, well done. Like all of you who have lost you will now gain.” The voice was as cryptic as ever. “Today you will all be going to a Formula I race meeting.” There was a cheer. “Apart from numbers twelve to twenty-two that is.” There was a groan.
Before he knew it Graham was at the racetrack. It was buzzing with excitement and the high pitched scream of engines. Mechanics were surrounding the sleek cars, pretty girls were draped everywhere. He hadn’t realised it but he was wearing a racing suit, and was heading towards a red Lamborghini. Standing over it, dressed in a short skirt and skimpy top was Sandra, she was smiling at him as he climbed into the car. She handed him his helmet, wished him luck and kissed him on the cheek. A bolt of pleasure shot through him, he could feel a small growing bulge just below where his huge bulging stomach used to be. He was so distracted that he almost missed the green light signalling the start of the race.
And what a race it was. Exhilarating speed, brave manoeuvres passing other cars, the crowd cheering. Before he knew it he saw the raised chequered flag and he had won. In a flash he was on the podium being congratulated by Clemence who was second. He opened the champagne and began to spray it all around . . . “Be careful with that son.” Graham was standing in KFC with his salad surprise and a bottle of sparkling water spraying everywhere.
That night Graham relived the race and the moment with Sandra, and that feeling returned.
The start of high school was looming, but Graham was ready for it. And his mum was so happy for him, her lean strong son. She also had a surprise for him. She had gone on a date last night, not surprising, she looked really smart now. She said that he’d get on well with him. Graham wasn’t so sure. He’d be coming round today.
Graham waited nervously, looking out of his window. It was late in the afternoon when a sleek silver Porsche drew up. His mum went to greet the driver as he emerged from the car, then hugged him. It was his dad.
Few recognised Graham as he strode confidently through the school gates. He spotted the group of bullies lurking, two of them were smoking. He brushed past one.
“Hey, you’re in the way Dickhead,” Graham growled, then turned to the other lout, “what are you looking at Sissy boy?” The boys sized Graham up – then moved on. Graham continued into the playground, he noticed Clemence talking to a group of girls. He recognised some of them, but not Sandra immediately, with her flowing blond hair tied back and skirt just above the knee. She beckoned him towards her. Life couldn’t be better.
The Fridge(Jeff Glazier)
The Fridge.
By Jeff Glazier
What Graham Nicklaus liked the most depended upon the time of day – or night. For breakfast he favoured double cream raspberry yoghurt, often with buttermilk biscuits. This was of course followed by a traditional bacon and egg sandwich with their thick slices of white bread – ‘doorsteps’ his mum called them, and she liked them just as much as him. Lunch on school days were usually snacks, his mum would be at work but would leave him something. Perhaps a big packet of chips and chocolate ice cream straight from the five litre tub would sustain him, along with the two litre coke. Evening meals would be more organised. Tonight would be rather special. It was his mum’s birthday. Pork belly, and she had ordered a Black Forest Gateau – that took some beating. The conversation was steered well away from the follow-up consultation with Dr Dower regarding Graham’s weight.
Graham woke in the middle of the night as usual. He soon found himself at the fridge staring through the half-open door at the piece of gateau that somehow escaped being eaten, and a tempting milk tart. He bent down as far as his stomach would allow, captured the cake then took it without mercy to the kitchen table.
The following day was uncomfortably hot. It was late afternoon when Graham stood on the doctor’s scales, sweating, red in the face, his shirt and tie undone. The doctor glanced at the dial. “Hmm – I can see that the dietary advice given to you hasn’t exactly been followed.” There was clear rebuke in his comment. He looked to the boy’s mother, “by either of you, if you don’t mind me saying, Mrs Nicklaus.” Mrs Nicklaus looked away. “Tell me,” the doctor continued, “how are things at home? The last time we met your husband . . .”
“He’s left us, I’m afraid, it’s only made matters worse. He works away a lot you remember, he sends us money though, we just don’t see him anymore. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The doctor rejected further discussion as to why? and concentrated on her son. “I see that you’re turning thirteen soon Graham, high school in six months or so. What do you like doing best Graham, any ambitions?”
“He likes cars, like his dad does, wants to be a racing car driver.” His mum answered for him.
“From what I know the cars are quite small Graham.”
“I liked rugby, just got a bit slow, don’t get picked anymore.”
“How is school?” His mum answered for him.
“They taunt him, and call him names. There are some bad boys. Dirk Headly and Francis Boyd, the school bullies – they call Graham ‘The Fridge.’”
“Children can be quite cruel, I know.” The doctor conceded.
“They also call me dickless, they can’t see it under my stomach . . .”
“It’s terrible,” Mrs Nicklaus added, “they still make the boys shower together after sport. I’ve spoken to the headmaster about it.”
“Well, they are unkindly pointing out a problem. I think you must agree things are out of control. Over the years we’ve talked about you being big boned Graham, and of course puppy fat but . . .”
“We’ll make a bigger effort Graham won’t we?” Graham just shrugged. The doctor was unconvinced.
“We could try something else . . . there’s a new product out, cutting edge for eating disorders. Actually they are looking for volunteers for more clinical trials, it’s a pill . . .”
“We’ve tried slimming pills before . . .” Mrs Nicklaus sounded sceptical.
“We’re not talking about slimming here, we’re talking about the need for dramatic weight loss. What this product does is fool the brain, it tells the stomach that it’s full. It’s particularly effective for children, it’s complicated to explain as to why, but there has been little success with adults. There are a few side effects, but none too serious. It could work for you Graham. I think that you could enter high school holding your head high rather than your stomach in.”
So they agreed to start the trial, a certain amount of conventional diet would also be needed, and the importance that the rules be adhered to was emphasised. Graham took his first little blue pill that evening.
In the middle of the night he once again found himself standing at the fridge. He tentatively opened it and struggling to bend down peered inside. There was a large slice of milk tart lying lonely on a plate. Feeling sorry for it he reached in. Suddenly his hand was grabbed, and before he could shout out he was hauled inside the fridge, its door slammed! And then there was darkness. After a moment he half expected to wake up. Instead he found himself in an unfamiliar room with a large oblong table where, at a rough count, about twenty children were seated. A soft melodic voice came from nowhere. “Graham, we’ve been expecting you, so pleased that you can join us, aren’t we everybody?” There was a collective, rather laboured ‘hello Graham.’ “Please, take a seat.” The voice continued. A chair was pulled back at the bottom of the table. Graham advanced, slowly scanning the children. They all looked around his age, boys and girls. From the top to the bottom of the table they were in descending order of size. At the very top was a girl, she was pretty and she stood up to welcome him. She was called Sandra. He couldn’t help but notice how slim and shapely she was. Graham found himself between a boy almost as big as himself and a rather heavy weight girl. They both had to move their chairs more to accommodate him. Everyone was in their pyjamas. Graham hadn’t been to a pyjama party before, he wondered if they were all as strange as this?
The voice spoke again. “Right everybody, we are going to the water park if everyone is ready?” There was a collective cheer then a scraping back of chairs. “Apart from numbers fourteen to twenty-two.” There was a groan and those numbers slumped back. Graham hadn’t yet got up from his chair, which he now noticed was numbered twenty-two. The rest of the excited children left.
The voice continued. “Some of you are new here, you may be excused from my comments, but some of you clearly haven’t been obeying the rules. Some heads went down. “Have you something to tell us Jessica?” Jessica stood up looking very guilty.
“Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I found myself in a . . . MacDonald’s.” There was a sharp intake of breath from some of the children.
“Well let’s just hope that it was only out of force of habit. As punishment, you will miss the Justin Bieber concert – and the backstage pass.” The girl dissolved into tears and much pleading, which was ignored. “Anybody else? You know you have to admit to any indiscretion, you will be found out.” A boy hanging his head stood up and spoke. You could hear his bulging stomach churn.
“I don’t know how it happened . . . I think someone must have given me it . . . it was a . . .” then he spoke very quietly and quickly.
“Speak up please . . .”
“It was a kilo bag of Chocolate Tumbles.”
“Oh, a kilo!” was repeated by some children, looking shocked at each other.
“Not so bad on the face of it.” The boy’s plump face brightened. “Unless you ate them that is.” Then he hung his head. The voice sighed. “You will miss the Rugby Championship final. The rest of us will be in a complimentary box.” The boy sat down heavily with a promise that it would never happen again. A slim young man entered the room. He carried a tray with glasses and a box containing large pink pills. Without speaking he set a glass and a pill in front of each child. The voice told everyone to take the pill. Then close their eyes for thirty seconds. When Graham opened his eyes he was standing outside his fridge. He daren’t open its door and hurriedly went straight back to bed.
The morning had him puzzling. He didn’t know whether to tell his mum about his experience, no doubt she would tell him that he’d been dreaming. It worried him though, so much so that he didn’t want much breakfast. In fact during the whole of that week his cravings had virtually disappeared, by the end of it he was easily able to do up the top button of his shirt. He was taking two blue pills a day now, almost full strength. The doctor had stressed that he have resolve, backsliding was always a possibility.
It was late one afternoon when in a moment of weakness and almost on auto pilot, as if in a day dream, he went into the supermarket and hovered dangerously close to a freezer full of Magnums. He just couldn’t resist and slid open the top of the cabinet. It was as his outstretched hand clasped the new Double Delight that he was pulled in. The next moment he was back inside the room that he’d been into a week ago. The voice was reproachful. “Graham, I’m disappointed in you, we’re all disappointed in you.” The children were all nodding their heads in agreement. “We’re all going to the funfair, apart from you – and Clemence over there,” (Clemence stood in a corner on his own), “it is fair that you have no fun. Don’t let it happen again Graham.” The slim man appeared and gave them both a little pink pill. In the next instant he found himself staring dreamlike into the chest full of ice creams. He closed the sliding top and hastily left the supermarket.
During the next two weeks Graham behaved himself. He was now on three pills a day and it was obvious that he was losing weight. His mum had also slimmed down, they encouraged each other. Graham had a new set of clothes, his dad had paid for them, they were three sizes smaller. His mum also bought a new outfit, she looked dead smart. They had decided to go away part way through the long summer holiday, just up the coast to a family adventure camp. Graham so wished that his dad would be there. He paid for it though. It looked a great place; apart from the beach and sea there was a water park with a huge pool, an amusement arcade, all sorts of fun things.
He’d only been there for a few hours when he spotted someone familiar doing lengths with great purpose in the pool – it was Clemence. He was delighted to see Graham and the two boys played and competed for the whole holiday. It was a wonderful week, and they returned tanned and slimmer. Graham was now in fine shape and had no further lapses – until:
It happened when he was walking past KFC. He must have been drawn by the lingering smell of French fries in the air. He found himself staring at the tempting menu that was lit up above the counter – the double chicken and cheeseburger and chips with a coke. He counted the coins in his pocket, he also had enough for the battered chicken legs with sauces and chips, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed a discreet token salad bar. He leaned towards it, his feet reluctant to follow. Eventually he pulled away from the counter and found himself reaching in for the ‘salad surprise.’ Then he got the surprise – in the next second he was in the strange room full of children. They were cheering and clapping, he saw a chair pulled out ready for him – and it was near the top of the table, close to Sandra. He glanced down to the bottom and the sad faced fat kids looking uncomfortable.
The voice spoke. “Graham, I hardly recognised you, well done. Like all of you who have lost you will now gain.” The voice was as cryptic as ever. “Today you will all be going to a Formula I race meeting.” There was a cheer. “Apart from numbers twelve to twenty-two that is.” There was a groan.
Before he knew it Graham was at the racetrack. It was buzzing with excitement and the high pitched scream of engines. Mechanics were surrounding the sleek cars, pretty girls were draped everywhere. He hadn’t realised it but he was wearing a racing suit, and was heading towards a red Lamborghini. Standing over it, dressed in a short skirt and skimpy top was Sandra, she was smiling at him as he climbed into the car. She handed him his helmet, wished him luck and kissed him on the cheek. A bolt of pleasure shot through him, he could feel a small growing bulge just below where his huge bulging stomach used to be. He was so distracted that he almost missed the green light signalling the start of the race.
And what a race it was. Exhilarating speed, brave manoeuvres passing other cars, the crowd cheering. Before he knew it he saw the raised chequered flag and he had won. In a flash he was on the podium being congratulated by Clemence who was second. He opened the champagne and began to spray it all around . . . “Be careful with that son.” Graham was standing in KFC with his salad surprise and a bottle of sparkling water spraying everywhere.
That night Graham relived the race and the moment with Sandra, and that feeling returned.
The start of high school was looming, but Graham was ready for it. And his mum was so happy for him, her lean strong son. She also had a surprise for him. She had gone on a date last night, not surprising, she looked really smart now. She said that he’d get on well with him. Graham wasn’t so sure. He’d be coming round today.
Graham waited nervously, looking out of his window. It was late in the afternoon when a sleek silver Porsche drew up. His mum went to greet the driver as he emerged from the car, then hugged him. It was his dad.
Few recognised Graham as he strode confidently through the school gates. He spotted the group of bullies lurking, two of them were smoking. He brushed past one.
“Hey, you’re in the way Dickhead,” Graham growled, then turned to the other lout, “what are you looking at Sissy boy?” The boys sized Graham up – then moved on. Graham continued into the playground, he noticed Clemence talking to a group of girls. He recognised some of them, but not Sandra immediately, with her flowing blond hair tied back and skirt just above the knee. She beckoned him towards her. Life couldn’t be better.
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