Free A Self Made Monster by Steven Vivian

sticking out his tongue and mouthing words that Edward could not decipher. Don’t get so mad, he told himself. Just cut him from the tape. But Edward despised the thought of Jimmy in the same room with Holly and him. The sneering creep violated the intimacy of director and actress.
    Edward grabbed the phone, called the operator. “Holly Dish,” he said before he could lose his nerve. She would be happy that the taping had gone well. Maybe she would like to see it right now, with some beer or wine.
    Ten rings. Fifteen. Twenty.
    “No one answers, sir. May I leave a message?”
    “No thanks,” Edward sighed.
    “How do you know that was for you?” asked Kate. She was annoyed at Holly, but silently admitted that nobody would be calling for her.
    “It’s Edward,” Holly answered from the bathroom. She brushed her hair violently. “I’m late already and I don’t have time to talk to him. I’ll see him tomorrow anyway.”
    She regarded her image in the mirror. Any mirror triggered the response, just as a physician’s rubber mallet triggers knee movement. Your thighs, she accused, are about to bloom again. You had potato chips two nights in a row, and then that pizza last week. And today at lunch, fried fish! Holly tried to examine her image objectively. Her tummy did not bulge, and her hips were firm. Her thighs looked a shade heavy.
    Those thighs are more than a shade heavy, Holly the Trainer told Holly the Hippo. Those thighs held extra poundage. For a girl only five feet five inches, two pounds on each thigh are too much. On Monday, you will get back to two miles on the track every night, and you will have only protein drinks for lunch. And forget about French fries for the next two months. Butter is bad too. You’re appearing in a film, and the camera puts twenty pounds on some people, especially women!
    Holly the Trainer continued the harangue for twenty minutes. And Holly the Hippo did not retreat. She stood in front of the mirror and took the criticism without self pity. Self pity usually led to a French fry binge and five pounds.
    Holly Dish had created her alter-ego out of necessity. From the age of twelve to seventeen, Holly was overweight. At age 14, when girlfriends were busy with makeup, jewelry, clothes, and boys, Holly was busy with food. A typical lunch was two Big Macs, large fries, and strawberry shake. Or a large pizza and quart of Coke.
    At age 15, when girlfriends were dating and immersed in puberty’s soap opera, Holly was hiding in her bedroom. She weighed 170 pounds and was humiliated. She once broke down into sobs and tears when the news carried a brief story about the beautiful and semi-literate actress Watusi Brite. She was six months pregnant but, as the correspondent noted, “as lovely and shapely as ever.”
    The crisis came when the kids on Holly’s school bus signed a petition. The petition demanded that Holly save the school football team by replacing the entire defensive line. At the bottom of the petition was a line drawing of Holly, French fries sticking out of her mouth, sitting on top of all the players of a rival team. She held the football in front of her mouth, as if she were about to eat it. The rivals were covered with bandages, bruises, and plaster casts. Stars and bubbles orbited their heads.
    And Holly’s character was naked.
    The kids on the bus were laughing, and Holly had sensed they were laughing at her. As she got on the bus, someone yelled, “Save our football team!” The petition, folded into a paper airplane, fell to her feet. Holly’s little sister Geri was laughing and ran past Holly, even though Holly yelled for her to wait. Geri, who weighed exactly half of what Holly weighed, was soon out of sight.
    Holly cried when she saw that even Geri signed the petition.
    One week after the petition incident, Holly joined a health club. She felt obscene in her gym shorts and tee shirt. You’re a hippo, Holly told herself, a hippo in a girl’s clothing.