Dennis Larsen - With Cruel Intent

With the library locked up and the staff on their way home, Blanche hailed a taxi with instructions to take her to the university campus and to drop her as close as possible to the auditorium, wherever that was. The campus was beautiful, sprawling lawn; cream pillared buildings with contrasting orange tiled roofs dotted the grounds. A large iron gate dominated the entrance to the campus and a bricked walkway extended beyond the gate that led to a two-story building, with people funneling into the front doors. She saw no signs, other than the few scattered along the path, ‘Go Blazers’ and ‘We Love Our Blazers’, but the only building that seemed to have any activity was the one straight ahead. Situated in front of the building was a large fountain, water cascading into a sparkling pool, a few students seated on the rim, splashing their hands in the cool water. Maneuvering past the students she noted a large placard on the wall near the open doors, ‘Auditorium’, and a sign on an easel that read, ‘Lowndes County Mr. Muscle Competition’ with the details listed below. A brochure sat on a nearby table featuring a very muscular man and woman on the front, all oiled up, posing, and muscles ready to burst. She reluctantly took one, looking around to see if anyone saw her slip it into her purse. Blanche followed the moving crowd until she could see a stage with lighting technicians making final adjustments for the upcoming event. The room was about 50 % of capacity and of course she could see no one that she was familiar with, so she tried to find an inconspicuous place to ride out the event.

She spotted a chair in the back left corner with very few people around and started slipping between the rows of chairs when she heard, “Ms. Delaney, dat you?” Her heart stopped. Who would be calling her name so loudly in a public arena with so many people filling the room? She turned to see an older black man walking toward her, arms outstretched, one leg appearing to be a little shorter than the other, causing him to hop step as he moved. “I knowed dat was you. Sho nuff, ya did come, just like Jasper said ya would.” Rufus, by this time had reached Blanche and taken both of her hands in his. “Ya lookin’ as pertty today as when we met dat day on my poche. Why you sittin’ all da way back heah? I done got us a place right up at da front where we can see betta. Come on now, Jasper be so happy to see ya right up dere at da front.”

“Well Rufus, I don’t know, seems awfully close and the lights are so warm. Maybe I better just sit back here, I’m sure I’ll see just fine,” Blanche tried to convince him, giving some resistance to his persistent pulling.

“Ms. Delaney, don’t ya be silly, don’t ya want ta git a close look at these muscle mens,” Rufus said, winking at the good-looking white woman.

“Of course, but don’t you need to save that for family or somebody more important?” she mildly continued to object.

“Jasper says nobody comin’ to dis tonight that’d be mo impotant than Ms. Delaney,” again smiling and showing the spaces in his teeth.

“Well, I’m very flattered. Okay, I guess we can sit up there if that’s what you want,” she said, finally giving in and allowed the older gentleman to pull her down the aisle and to the seats closer to the front.

Jasper had been watching from the security of the stage behind the large curtain pulled to either side and held in place by gold hooks fashioned into lion heads. He was pleased to see her. She was everything he’d been looking for in a woman and destiny had thrown them together not once, but twice. He was sure it was a sign. He had hoped she would come tonight; maybe he’d have the courage to ask her out on a real date. The few minutes he’d spent with her over the past few weeks had filled his memory and fueled his imagination. On more than one occasion he’d been pulled from a dream much sooner than he would have liked. Just seemed every time she was about to drop the bikini top or come crawling into his bed, he’d wake up spoiling the inevitable. Other contestants milled about on the stage, friends and handlers covering their hairless bodies with oil, in preparation for the judging. Jasper knew that on this night he’d be performing for only one person and she was no judge.

On the very last row of seats, a man sat, light jacket over a dark t-shirt, long denim jeans, athletic shoes, a Brave’s baseball cap covering a fresh haircut, pulled over his forehead and dark sunglasses. He had hoped that the librarian would not have given in to the older black man and stayed at the back of the auditorium. The Stalker could have gotten some awesome voyeuristic pictures of her seated alone, nothing to obstruct his view. He cursed Rufus under his breath, the small compact digital camera hugging his palm. He hoped that the trouble of following her tonight would pay off, with at least a few pictures, if not something more. The lights dimmed throughout the auditorium as those on stage intensified. He thought back to the few hours prior. Holding her hand in his, so soft, so feminine, he’d gotten caught up in the moment and almost gave her his real name. Thankfully, ‘Rob’ had come to his mind quickly. Surely he’d be able to come up with a logical explanation for that guffaw later, when he revealed himself to her completely.

An announcer made his way to the microphone positioned in the front center of the large stage. He wore a striking, classic black suit, white ruffled shirt and black bow tie. Blanche suspected he’d be the only one dressed so modestly appearing on stage tonight. He welcomed the crowd who responded with hoots and hollers, except for the timid Blanche, who clapped in her own unassuming way. Rufus, on the other hand, was making enough noise for both of them. The MC explained the rules of the competition and introduced the three judges seated at a long table in front of the stage, a pitcher of water and glasses with ice, before each judge, as well as pads and pens. The women’s portion of the evening would start, beginning with the mandatory portion of the event. Blanche understood, based on the explanation, that contestants must present themselves on stage and perform a set series of poses to display their overall fitness and physique. Scores would be tabulated and recorded, and then the second half of the competition would begin. It was deemed ‘freestyle’ and was set to music. The bodybuilders were allowed 90 seconds to wow the crowd with whatever moves and poses they saw fit. Again, this would be scored and the highest overall tally would be reigned Ms. Muscle or Mr. Muscle, respectively.

Blanche had no idea what to expect, she’d never seen such a competition either on television or live. There were seven men and seven women vying for the titles. The original field of applicants had been over a hundred but the judges had looked at photos and past performances to determine who would compete in the final seven. The women were introduced one by one as they walked onto the stage, each wore a small cover up that they dropped to the floor when they reached their marker on the stage floor and their name was announced. The male portion of the audience greeted the dropping of the shroud with exuberant applause and catcalls. The women were a bit too mannish for Blanche’s taste but they were in phenomenal shape, each muscle group well defined and shimmering in the lights as the oil reflected the multi directional beams. There were four black ladies, two Caucasian and a Filipino; the heaviest of the group was 195 lbs of rock solid muscle. As far as the toned, but less than muscular Delaney could tell, most of the women appeared to have breast implants, some more natural looking than the others. The smallest of the group was the Southeast Asian, she stood 5’ 4” and weighed only 150 lbs, but she was very well proportioned and perhaps even had natural breasts, at least what was left of them. Apparently, Blanche gathered, bodybuilding was not for women interested in keeping a full, natural bustline. She noted that the women were all quite dark except for their faces. It was obvious that they were tanning from the neck down but avoiding their faces, even the black contestants. She filed away in her memory a question for Jasper regarding this observation.