Isabelle and Phil
by Phil Farrell
Flashbacks to a Modern Marriage as seen from Bobby's Perspective


Ours seemed to be a fairly normal family in suburban America at the beginning
of the Twenty-First Century. Amy had moved off to college a couple of years
ago, and I was settling in to my senior year in high school. Sadly Mom and Dad
hardly seemed to cross paths, they even slept in separate bedrooms. We didn't
see too much of Dad as his job involved a lot of travel. Mom seemed a typical
American hausfrau -- I only saw her in loose-fitting clothes, and I sensed
that she was putting on some weight, as she aged into her 50's.

My image of my mom was shattered on that Monday in early November when our
school was closed early because of a bomb scare. We seniors were sent home
around 10:00 am, and I decided just to go home, and then meet some of my
friends for lunch. I sensed that something was not normal when I saw the BMW
in driveway. And, when I walked into our kitchen I called out for Mom, there
was no answer. But her car was still in the garage, so I knew she was home. As
I went through the house I heard some clanking and what I thought at first was
screaming. I ran toward Mom's bedroom in a panic. But when I passed the weight
room, I saw what was going on--to my shock and relief.

Mom was lying on the bench doing bench presses. There were two big men on
either side spotting her. What shocked me was how much weight was on the bar,
and how effortlessly Mom was moving it. When she finished her set, and placed
the bar on the rack I went into the room. She was surprised to see me, but
quickly introduced me to her spotters. ''Cole, Jim, this is Bobby, my son.
Bobby -- Cole and Jim are training partners. Why are you home? Are you sick?''

So I explained about the early dismissal. Mom asked what I planned to do for
the rest of the morning, and suggested that I stay and watch the work-out. In
the meantime Cole was loading some more weights onto the bar. There were three
25-pound plates and a 10-pound plate on both sides of the 35 pound bar. 205
pounds. I assumed that Cole or Jim would use these weights for bench press, so
I was surprised when Mom put her gloves back on and lied on the bench. She
moved the bar through ten perfect reps, like it was nothing. I guess what I
has always assumed was fat on Mom was really solid muscle. I could never tell
because she always wore frumpy clothes around the house, and had on sweats in
her gym. I told Mom that I had to meet some friends for lunch, and left the
three of them.

That night Dad brought dinner home, and the three of us sat down for dinner
together--something we hadn't done in months. As usual there wasn't much
conversation between Mom and Dad--they tended to talk through me. But when we
were finished I was surprised when Mom told Dad that she was planning a trip
to Tampa in three weeks. Dad asked why, and she explained that it was for her
first bodybuilding competition. Dad looked both stunned and furious. ''What do
you mean? You're a middle-aged, overweight housewife.'' He yelled at her.
''This is silly. What do you want to go watch some stupid competition for?''

Mom took Dad's reaction in stride, and said, ''I'm not going to watch, I'm
competing. In fact, I have to work on my posing routine tonight, so you'll
have to do the dishes.''

I thought Dad was going to hurt himself--he was laughing so much. ''Alright,
I'll tell you what. If you beat me in arm wrestling, then you can go to Tampa,
and I'll do the dishes.''

Mom looked hard at him, and said slowly, ''Are you sure?'' Dad said he was.

So Mom stood up and took off her sweat shirt, revealing a tight ''wife
beater'' shirt underneath. When Dad turned around and saw her, his jaw
dropped, and he stammered, ''OK. I'll do the dishes. Look -- I, I, I, I've
already started.'' He was shaking like a leaf.

I was shocked by the sight of my mother's upper body. Her muscles were huge
and well-defined. I was more shocked by Dad's reaction. He seemed scared to
death. I had a feeling Mom was going to win her competition. I think she'd win
even in the Men's lightweight division!

'Oh no,'' Mom said. ''Let's do this. What's the matter? You seem bothered.''

''No. Th- th -th -that's ok.'' Dad said. ''I'm f-f-f-f-fine.''

''Come on'' Mom chided him. ''You're not afraid of this fat?'' With that she
flexed her right arm, and a softball-sized biceps formed. It looked as solid
as a rock.

''No. It's not th- th- th- that. I just don't wa- wa- wa- whaaa to hurt you.''
Dad sputtered. He was shaking all over.

''I'll take that risk.'' Mom laughed. ''Let's go.'' With that she sat down at
the table, and put her elbow down on the table. She started wiggling her
fingers, and taunting Dad: ''Let's go big man.''

''I- I- I- I- I've al r-r-r-r-r-r -rrready s-s-s-s ssstarted the dishes.''

''You don't want your son to think you're a chicken, now do you?'' Mom asked.
''Now let's go.'' She commanded. ''I have to get going.''

So dad came and sat across the table from her and placed his elbow on the
table. His arm was so much longer than hers, but hers was much more heavily
muscled.

''Alright, you say go.'' Mom said. So Dad did, and within a split second his
hand was slammed down to the table.

''You're such a cheater.'' He told her, as he was rubbing the back of his
hand. ''I wasn't ready.

''But you said go.'' Mom laughed. ''Alright. Let's go again, and this time you
tell me when I can start.''

''I I- I- I- I- I don- don- don't know.'' He said fearfully. ''Why can't I
just do the dishes?'' He was almost crying.

But Mom grabbed his hand again, and told him to say go, and then tell her when
she could start.

Dad did. He was turning red from pushing so hard, and he was breathing very
heavily. ''Let me know when you've started, and I'll start,'' Mom said
laughing.

''OK.'' Dad gasped. Once again, his hand was slammed down into the table.

''Ow,'' Dad yelled out. Tears welled in his eyes. But Mom didn't let go. She
pulled his hand back up to the starting position, and slammed it down in
repetition -- three times. Each time harder than the last.

''Happy now, big man?'' Mom asked. Anyway I've gotta run. I'll be back by
midnight. Make sure everything is clean by then.

Dad got up and ran to the bathroom, rubbing his hand. It looked pretty red and
swollen.

I went to my room, and when I came back to the kitchen to get a snack,
everything was spotless.

I had a feeling things were going to be interesting for a while in the house.

-----Part of an ongoing saga focused on Isabelle. --Phil Farrell.
phlfrrll@yahoo.com