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Just one more set.
I put down the dumbbells, trying not to make too much noise with them. Not that everyone at the gym gave me the same courtesy of a peaceful workout environment.
Take that guy, for example.
A wiry gentleman with salt and pepper hair stood a couple yards behind me, walloping the punching bag like it owed him money. His reflection in the mirror in front of me distracted me from my usual focus.
C’mon, Ally, stop stalling. Let the poor guy punch his bag in peace.
I picked up the dumbbells and gave myself a stern look in the mirror as I began my last set of curls.
“I hate you!”
The shout from behind me startled me so much, I almost dropped the dumbbells. I surveyed the room, looking in the mirror at the various other gym rats behind me. Most of them turned their attention to the gentleman punching the bag.
He grunted and yelled again.
“You fucking bitch!”
My eyes widened as I put down the dumbbells and turned towards Mr. Angry Fists. Everyone else just shook their heads in disapproval and put their headphones back on to drown him out. I studied his face. His eyes squinted and teeth gritted as if he felt great pain. The more I watched him, the more I wanted to know what in the world went on between his ears. His fists flew in a flurry, striking the bag with such force that the rafters shook.
Impressive for a smaller guy.
No headphones.
How can he not hear himself?
And...
Oh, dear.
His shorts stretched around a protrusion coming from his groin area. My eyes cut away as a grin surfaced on my face.
Well, you got your blood flowing.
His voice pierced my ears and pulled my attention from the tent in his shorts.
“You’re a whore, Jessica! A dirty cunt!”
My mouth dropped open as my eyes surveyed the room again for onlookers.
I’ve got to stop him.
I moved in near to him and reached out to tap him on the shoulder, trying not to catch a flying fist across my face. When I touched his shoulder, his energy flowed through my fingertips, up my arm, and into my chest. Heavy sadness came over me.
Dude, what happened to you? And who’s Jessica?
I pat his arm, hoping to intercept any more crude expletives before they escaped his mouth.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He snapped out of his trance and collapsed into the bag. When his eyes opened to look at me, I saw brokenness in them like he might cry right in front of me.
“Are you ok?”
He looked around the gym and flinched at the sight of several glares coming at him from his audience. Sweat poured down his face, which turned white as he lowered his gloves to cover himself. I tried to act oblivious to that situation.
“I hate to interrupt you, but you were getting pretty intense there.”
I looked around the room, lowered my voice, and leaned in closer.
“You know this is a family-oriented establishment, right?”
The color in his face turned from pale to bright red.
“I’m scared to ask. What was I doing?”
I wrinkled my nose, looked to the side, and blew through puckered lips.
“How to tell you this? Umm, apparently there’s some woman named Jessica that you hate. You called her some colorful names.”
“Oh, my God.”
He bounced his forehead like a basketball against the punching bag.
“You seem pretty upset. Do you need to talk to someone?”
I waited for him to open his eyes and look at me. When he did, the tightness in his cheeks appeared to loosen. His shoulders relaxed and fell.
“Thank you very much, ma’am, but...”
“It’s Ally.”
“Excuse me?”
As I contemplated my brief glimpse of the tumult inside him, I wanted to hug him but just gave him a warm smile.
“My name’s Ally.”
He looked down and then to the side.
“Thank you, Ally. My name’s Ron. Honestly, I need to go take a cold shower before they throw me out of here.”
Poor guy.
I winked at him and patted him on the shoulder.
“I understand. Well, when you’ve cooled off, if you want to talk, I’m around. I work out here all the time.”
I turned and walked away, hoping to get that chance.
Not sure what it is about you, dude, but I want to know more about you.
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