Romance:From Fat To Fatale(20)

but not too far from the Bulgari family residence.

Close enough for Mama to walk around the corner with a groaning tray of freshly baked cakes, cookies and the occasional vat of goose-fat soup. You get the picture? I'd already broken some of the family traditions by getting good grades at school. I'd already sown the seeds of confusion by going to college. I'd confounded the old expectations by studying computer science which, according to the family, was only one short step away from the evils of necromancy and planting my puckered lips on the tail-end of Beelzebub. So I'd strained some of the bonds that served to hold the family members firmly in their respective places. Could I risk another little step outside the bounds of the family domain?

I guess I needed to set up a fait accompli. That's genuine French if you happen to be linguistically challenged. It means it's a done deal. No turning back. So I went to see the old campus medico and he seemed genuinely pleased to welcome me back to his surgery. I sat down and he said right away that I looked a dang sight better than I had during our last session and I brought him up to date with my titanic, trailer-bound struggle in the wilderness with the impish legions of sugar. And he actually laughed out loud. Clapped his hands. He thought it was wonderful.

He congratulated me for taking the plunge and asked how he could help.

My request was a little unorthodox but I needed his influence with the college faculty. I needed to get accommodation on campus but I wanted it to look as if the college in some way was insisting that I had to stay on base. He put his head on one side as he sat back and looked at me, considering the question, chewing slowly on the wire frame of his half-moon glasses, then nodding that he'd see what he could do.

One of the advantages of being a paid-up member of the medical profession was that you got to see a lot of things that folks would prefer you not to see. You were expected to do your job and quietly forget who you'd treated and what you'd treated them for. That meant you probably had a whole filing cabinet full of favours you could call in, should the need ever arise. I guess the old doc had more a lot influence than I'd expected because everything really happened so fast. Before I could gather my thoughts, I found I was being carried along by the momentum of my little ruse and didn't have a second to reconsider what I'd set in motion. It was indeed a fait accompli - no extra charge for the language lesson - and I suddenly had my own room on campus and a signed letter from the faculty of computer sciences informing me that I was required to conduct research and experiments as part of my studies, research that could only be accomplished by staying close to the computer labs. Damn! That was some favour the old doc had just cut for me. I was impressed. And then a little scared about how I might have to pay him back. Visions of those dancing dentures were more than a little unsettling.

Well, I knew it wasn't going to be easy but the bogus letter hit Mama like a sledgehammer tossed off the top of the Chrysler Tower on Macy's Day. One second she was baking furiously in the kitchen amidst clouds of flour and icing sugar, singing some old country ditty about the price of a stolen goat when the goods were got for free, and then she was carefully reading my letter, lips silently pronouncing the words, brow densely knit and an expression of fierce intensity on her face.

There was a moment of breathless silence as the message forged its way through her cerebral processors and then she suddenly threw the letter to the floor, stamped her foot on it, screamed and wailed to heaven above as if she'd just received official confirmation from the Bishop that her precious little girl had been found guilty of devil worship and was due to be burned at the stake in the village square the next morning, (cotton candy and commemorative crucifixes on sale from the usual vendors). I tried to placate her. I kept repeating that I really wasn't joining the manned space mission to Mars. I'd still be on the same planet. In the same country. In the same town. Just a few miles up the road. Is all.

She wailed, tears streaming down the broad expanse of her enormous cheeks, carving trails in the layer of flour and icing sugar that dusted her skin, clasping her hands to her chest and repeating Why, oh why, oh why? Eventually, even Mama ran out of drama and she settled down to planning a shuttle service to the campus with a daily supply of 'real food' to make sure I didn't starve to death whilst playing Dr Frankenstein with the resurrected body parts of discarded calculators. Sure, sure, Mama, I said. Just leave it with security at the front gate and I'll be sure to pick it up when I'm ready.

I'd made it.

The shackles had loosened their grip. I was free.

And thus, my patient and ever-supportive friend, the dreadful deed was done.

Some light packing from my heavyweight wardrobe, a valuable, battery-operated, personal relaxation device discretely removed from beneath a loose floorboard, a short bus ride back to college and, to my shock and surprise, I found that I'd just upped and moved out of the family home. I was scared and I was weirdly elated at the same time. Why scared? Well, come on. You can imagine how it felt.

This was a seriously big change for me. It would be for anyone. And you know all those stories about the guys who spend decades in the pen and then they're released but can't adjust to the strain of living in the outside world? They can't cope with the reality of being free?

The ones who've become totally institutionalised and, since the only thing they know is jail, they usually find an easy way to get back inside as quickly as possible? Those guys? Well that sure wasn't me. Not at all. I was on a mission now and I needed to be away from the old environment, away from the old temptations, away from the old habits and conditioning. I had to have a break from the old ways of eating and see if the lady nutritionist was as right as I thought she was.