Resolution

"Are you on your way in or out?" a man's voice behind me demanded.

I hunched my shoulders and murmured, "In."

"Well, can you get a move on? You're holding up the elevator."

I mumbled a 'sorry' and took another tiny step that didn't move me anywhere. My black dress gathered at the edges of the doors. They kept trying to close.

"Mommy," I heard a child say, "I think that lady is stuck."

I closed my eyes.

The mommy couldn't speak quietly enough. "I think so, too, darling. Maybe we should take another elevator."

"There aren't any more elevators!" The child's voice faded with their footsteps.

"We'll take the stairs," came the faint reply.

Dignity, I told myself.

Another voice came from my back side. A nicer man's voice. "Ma'am, are you going in or out?"

I couldn't answer. Tears were threatening. I raised my chin.

"In, then. That will be easiest. Ma'am, on the count of five, I'm going to give you a push. I want you to know that I'm not intending any sort of harrassment, only help, is that clear?"

I nodded.

"I need your verbal consent."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Right, then. I need everyone to clear the area, please. One," he began to count.

Please, I uttered a silent prayer. Please let this be as quick and painless as possible.

"Two."

A traitor tear leaked out.

"Three." His voice came from a distance away.

Please let him never see my face.

"Four. Five."

I heard footsteps. Oh, lord, he was running. I turned my head to see but the impact came first. His whole body jammed into me, and I slid into the elevator as the doors began to forcefully close.

"Unnhhh," I heard him groan to general applause in the lobby. "Whoever had the idea of putting Weight Control on the eleventh floor ought to be shot."

The doors shut and I moaned. I was turned the wrong way. I couldn't see which button to push. And I couldn't see a way out of the elevator. No wonder ZapFatFast had a 100% success rate. It was their plan to make their victims die of over-exertion by climbing the stairs, or--why didn't I look before I stepped?--to wither in embarrassment because they couldn't fit into the teeny elevator.

The elevator rose and stopped. "Second floor," a soothing female voice intoned. The doors opened but I didn't hear anything. Thank heavens no one was there.

The doors closed again and the elevator climbed another level. "Third floor," sang the voice.

Shuffling of feet and clothing. Then, "Ma'am, do you need some help?"

I shook my head.

"That's all right, we'll just wait for the next one."

Snickers of laughter. A muffled "That elevator is loaded to max capacity." The humming slide of the doors.

Max volume, not weight, I thought stubbornly, or it wouldn't have gone up.

My spirits lifted slightly and a memory tickled my brain--my Russian godmother kissing my cheeks during my torrent of self-hateful tears, saying, "Fat souls have wills; skinny souls have wishes. You have power. You will find the way."

At the time, I'd snorted at yet another of her sayings. Now... well, did I have power? Wasn't it I who came to visit these psychos in the first place?

The elevator dinged. "Fourth floor," the voice toned. The doors opened.

A nasal simpering. "Ma'am, can you scoot over? We're in kind of a hurry."

I spoke to the wall with more assurance than I felt. "What do you think I am, a supermodel? This elevator is mine. You'll have to take the stairs."

The doors slid closed and I swallowed, desperately visualizing my godmother. Did I do okay? I asked her.

Perfect, I could see her mouthing.

The elevator churned for a while. "Tenth floor." The doors opened.

A chorus of groans. "How in the world did she get in there?" "Does she ever have a problem." Groans turning to laughter.

I raised my voice. "See this?" I tried to wiggle my backside but it really was pretty tight. "I'm in here to show people like you how to respect others. I am NOT the one with the problem."

The laughter died and the doors slid shut.

Keep going, my godmother whispered.

"Eleventh floor." The doors opened.

A man's voice spoke. "This is Weight Loss and Management, ma'am. I think this is your floor."

I noticed a blurry reflection on the polished steel wall before my face--a skinny figure in a brown suit with a crowd of all sizes behind him. Dang. If I'd noticed that before, I could have seen their reactions as I made my way up.

This one's for you, I told my godmother.

I raised myself up to full height and felt my weight re-settle. It was quite a bit more comfortable. "Actually, sir, I'm managing my weight just fine. But you all seem to be concerned about it, seeing it's your floor, so why don't you go take the stairs and save yourselves a few years to your lives? I'll be just fine in here."

The doors shut before I could glimpse their faces, but mine glowed. I did have power. Maybe, if I held myself tall, I could squeeze out of the elevator. But, really, I didn't even care. I'd never felt so good.

___

Today is National Ditch Your Resolution Day, but I'm having trouble with that because my own resolution, to rewrite my WIP, is coming splendidly (chapter four, yeah!).  Mostly, though, I believe resolutions can change you for good, on the outside and on the inside, however slowly it comes.

In saying that, this story is NOT about making fun, even though it was fun to write.  It's about the idea that people are born to be beautiful.  Whatever you set your mind to doing, you can do when you keep your sights on the goal, but when it comes to being, being YOU is best... and incredible.  I hope your resolution is to love you, and don't you dare ditch it!