Scarlett Gorman's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Scarlett walked home from the park with the empty boxes in one sack and the painted sign under her arm. Two faces in her portrait case. Neither one a sure thing. She set the case on her kitchen table and opened the glass doors of the larger cabinet behind it, where a longer row of portraits hung in their frames. Glowing symbols ran in lines between the rows. She had collected the faces over a year of dates. She stood there a long time and did not pick one. Picking a single man felt like another guess. She wanted a place where the guessing was already done. She sat down with her tablet and searched. She typed phrases she had never typed before. Where big bellies are welcome. Where a loud burp is a compliment. The first hits were jokes and ads. She kept scrolling. On the fourth page a traveler had written a short post about a dining hall on the far side of the river. He said the women there ate until they could not stand, and the men paid to watch, and the bigger the belly the longer the line at her table. He gave the name. He said to look for the dome. Scarlett went the next evening. She walked the river road until the dome came into view, a low building of colored crystal under a faceted roof. Pink and green light spilled out through the panels. A soda fountain stood in the front court, taller than her, with bright jets arcing into a wide basin. Foam ran down the sides. Above the front doors hung a wooden sign in plain letters: welcome, everyone eats for free. A smaller board beside the doors listed the rule below it. Big belly women eat for free, always. Other guests pay by weight gained at the table. She stepped inside. The room held a dozen booths in deep pink velvet. Every booth had a woman in it, and every woman was eating. Plates stacked three high. Sauce on chins. One woman finished a long pour from a pitcher and let out a burp that carried across the room. The men at the next booth clapped. A server passed Scarlett a card and told her to order anything she liked, as much as she liked, and to take her time. Scarlett's stomach did not tighten. It loosened. She felt her shoulders drop for the first time in months. She ordered four trays. She ate the way she ate at home. Two hands, open mouth, grease on her chin. Halfway through the second tray she burped long and low and patted her belly. A man two booths over lifted his glass to her. Another man, older, walked over and asked if he could sit. She nodded with her mouth full. He watched her chew and smiled like she was doing him a favor. She had found the place. The hunting ground was real. Now she had to choose from the men inside it.