Eat

This was it. In a matter of minutes, Edward Tanner, or as he was known around the circuit, “Eddie the Eater” would be the champion. He had worked hard for this, a life's journey through misery and enlightenment, culminating in this glorious week-long competition of all things related to consuming food. It had been a hard-fought battle throughout. There were times when he thought he was done for, the title put beyond his grasp. He would wonder how it would have felt to reach the top, yes, left forever to wonder. This was not a thought he wished to dwell on and vowed then, to never think or feel that way again. He was a winner, he persevered, defeated his foes one by one and now, here he was, one last slice of chocolate cake between him and glory. It was a difficult piece of cake, not at all living up to the adage he grew up with. No, this was no piece of cake.

Three hundred and forty-three pounds. That was how much he weighed at his heaviest. He would try to diet but everything he tried was just a waste of time. At times, a new treatment would seem to be working, but the confidence Edward gained from the news was soon lost among the tears that fell upon learning that once again, he weighed more than ever. He was in despair, lost and afraid that he would never be able to lose weight. Surgery was out of the question; his parents would never allow it. And even if they would, he was not confident in his willingness to go through with something like that. His fear of being cut open and having stuff taken... sucked out of him, it was too great for words. Although Edward could think of a few if anyone really wanted to know.

Finally, at the age seventeen, Edward discovered something wonderful. Fasting. Edward would not eat all day, usually between twenty-one and twenty-four hours. Once a day, for one hour and one hour only, Edward would eat. He would consume thousands of calories in that one hour. He never felt like he was too full after eating and he usually finished everything he intended. However, if he did not finish all the food within that hour then he simply just stopped eating. He never felt hungry, but he could eat at any point during each day if he wanted to. But he liked to keep it consistent. Edward lost over one hundred pounds his first year. Since then, he dropped to two hundred pounds. His fasting and one hour eating marathons keep him at a consistent two hundred pounds, give or take a few pounds. Edward did not know why this worked for him, but it did. He would also be the first to admit that this was not a diet for everyone. Edward enjoyed vegetables and worked out; he did not use his fasting as an excuse to continue pigging out. But he also enjoyed that hour every day.

Edward started entering eating competitions when he turned twenty-one and did not do terribly well. He eventually found his stride and managed to win a competition here and there. He started winning more often, taking speed eating titles and breaking records along the way. Throughout his career he could never manage to win the big one. Always within his reach only to hit his wall or misstep. Once that happened, there was not much you could do. But now he had done it, he was closer than ever before. A few of Eddie the Eater’s accomplishments in the last week include eating ninety slices of pizza in ten minutes (setting a new world record), eating seventy hot dogs in ten minutes (a tie for first place), eating a fifteen-pound hamburger in under three hours (plus toppings, buns and a one-pound milkshake), eating ten sticks of butter in less than three minutes, and eating fifty pieces of pumpkin pie in less than ten minutes (setting another world record). “I am unbeatable, nothing uneatable!” It was his new war cry, and he would sing loud and proud.

Only one task left to complete, and the only true foe left to conquer, was this monster of a cake. Victory was his for the taking.

It was called death by chocolate, and he was required to eat the entire cake, slice by slice, within fifteen minutes. He was fortunate and could use the assistance of milk to wash it down. The milk helped get the cake down but only served to fill his stomach faster. As challenging as this would be to many, Edward’s fasting had prepared him well. However, the richness of the cake was no trifling matter, and it was proving to more difficult than he imagined. The cake had many layers, consisting of buttercream on top of ganache on top of fudge on top cake. There were two flavors of cake, chocolate and espresso, that alternated down the length of the cake. It was a masterpiece. It was a nightmare. But Edward intended to conquer it and that moment was at hand.

With a final bite it was all over. Edward looked around at his fellow competitors, not a one of them had come close to finishing the death by chocolate cake. He raised his hands in triumph, waiting for the inevitable photo that would forever immortalize him as the champion. But suddenly Edward had a strange feeling come over him. And then that strange feeling evolved into something more. Quite unexpectedly and to his great dismay, he was looking down upon the scene, like watching a play from a balcony. Except the scene had changed. He was no longer raising his hands in triumph, smiling for the camera. Instead, he was slouched over the table, his face in the death by chocolate cake. Edward was more disturbed by the fact that, according to what he was now seeing, he had not won the competition than the fact that he was dead, face down in a dessert called death by chocolate.

“Yes, it is quite unfortunate,” came a soft voice from behind him. It was a woman.

“What the hell is this? And who the hell are you?” Edward stammered as he quickly turned to face the voice. He was miffed but the voice had given him such a fright that his words fell flat. The figure, wearing a simple robe, smiled at Edward. The smile put him at ease, and he soon forgot to be angry. He still had questions, however. And as he thought this, the figure answered.

“Oh, my dear Edward. I know you have many questions. I wish I could answer them now, but I tell you with all honesty that I cannot. Be assured though, dear Edward, that your questions will be answered when it is time. And only when it is time.” The figure stood quietly for a moment, Edward could not see her eyes, but he knew she was looking at him. Inside of him.

"I can see that you are in distress, and while it is only natural, I will grant you the answer to one question if it will help you feel better about the situation.”

Before Edward had time to consider, he blurted about the first question that popped into his head.

“Are you an angel?” The figure laughed and laughed. It took her a few moments, her laughter dissipating to giggles before her face came to rest in a smile.

“No, dear Edward I am not.” She paused a moment, considering. “You can think of me as a spirit guide, I suppose.”

Edward did not think that was a satisfactory answer, but a deal was a deal and she had answered truthfully. Unsatisfying as it was. He looked back down at the scene still unfolding in a world he was no longer a part of. The figure joined him, looking over his shoulder as she sighed.

“It is sort of funny though,” she said.

“Yeah, death by chocolate. Real fucking funny. I just don’t get it; how could I have a heart attack? I wasn’t unhealthy. Sure, a little unorthodox in my eating habits but not unhealthy. I lost so much weight!”

“Ah but that is what’s so funny!

She seemed to have forgotten the situation, she seemed happy. He realized then that whoever this person was, spirit guide, angel, or who knows what, for her, death was not an occasion to be sad.

“You did not die from a heart attack silly man. You died from a brain aneurysm. You ignored the symptoms and continued eating cake. It wasn’t pretty in the end. And I thought you’d prefer something that made you happy, so poof, happy ending for you. No need for that last bit of pain and suffering.” She busied herself packing a suitcase, the legend ‘EDWARD’ in bold gold lettering lined the top. He had not realized he would need a suitcase. She finished with the packing and with a snap, flipped down the latches. It seemed all too final. She turned to Edward.

“Now, we are out of time in this particular plane of existence, and I am sure you have many other questions for me to answer. Luckily for you it is just about that time. Shall we go?” She held out her hand and after a second's hesitation, he grasped it.

If anyone had witnessed their departure, they would have seen only a brief waver in the air. A gust of wind perhaps? Maybe a trick of the light? Some might even say it was a ghost. And maybe they are right. But no one saw them, as the figure and her charge became one with the shadows.

End