The man with twenty hands

‘Give this man a hand,’ Larry King beamed to the audience, which erupted in applause. ‘Wait, wait-’ he said, gesturing with his own two hands to get the crowd to stop. ‘On second thoughts I think he has more than enough.’

The man's teeth glinted like polished diamonds as the audience erupted in laughter. Most of my hands clenched into fists, one dug fingernails into my thighs while another, one which I was pretty sure wasn’t covered by any of the TV studio cameras, extended a solitary middle digit at the talk show host. ‘Yes, ha, such originality,’ I said through slightly gritted teeth. ‘You should have your own talk show, you could go far, really.’ The audience collectively chuckled.

‘Gideon Smith,’ Larry continued, ‘the man with twenty hands, founder of many businesses such as the cannabis-infused food delivery app EdiBelAire, and the dating app Uncommon Love. Let’s get something out of the way first, Gideon, how did you get twenty hands?’

‘I was born with them Larry,’ I responded, the hands in view gripping each other. ‘The same way someone might be born with an extra toe, or a third nipple.’

‘But you have twenty of them.’

‘I guess someone missed a decimal point when they were creating me!’ I let the audience's laughter die before adding, ‘The doctors said they expected them to be reabsorbed, or fall off like skin tags or something.’

‘And when they didn’t?’

I shrugged, a number of hands turning their palms up.

‘When did you first realise you were...’ Larry hesitated, more for emphasis than word choice, ‘...special?’

‘Pretty soon after I got to middle school,’ I said, one hand wandering up my cheek, trying to brush the annoyance away. ‘The kids I grew up with just accepted me as Gideon Smith, but as soon as I got somewhere new...’

‘You were a freak,’ finished Larry.

I dropped eye contact, looking from my lap to my feet, to the gaffer tape markings on the floor, and briefly towards the emergency exit. ‘Yes,’ I said finally.

‘And when you left school?’

‘Well, I tried lots of jobs-’

‘Handyman?’ Larry interrupted, causing the audience to titter.

I smiled, ‘Yes, that was one.’

‘Ring salesman?’ More laughter.

‘No, but now that you mention it maybe I’ll try that next.’

‘Okay, now that you’re a grown man what problems do you face?’ Larry leaned forward on his desk, ‘Beyond not enough pockets that is?’

‘Well, my annual mitten bill is horrendous,’ I confided, playing along with it. ‘And it’s always awkward when people go to shake hands.'

‘People could be there all day,’ Larry said, nodding before putting his serious face on. ‘Gideon, when we first sat down together you said you were having a specific problem.’

I nodded, and Larry continued, ‘A problem of the heart.’ The audience awww-ed.

‘I just can’t keep hold of a relationship.’

‘The right girl just slips through your fingers?’

I smiled, more to humour him than anything else, and said, ‘I’ve never met the right girl.’

‘Well Gideon, we’re about to go to a commercial break,’ Larry said, pulling a large box from behind his desk. ‘When we come back we have a bit of a surprise for you...’

I narrowed my eyes.

‘...in the meantime,’ he continued. ‘You keep yourself busy with this.’ With a shitfaced grin he poured a whole boxful of Rubiks cubes onto the desk between us.

The audience roared, lights dimmed, and production assistants stepped forward to do what production assistants do.

It was all staged, of course, I knew what was coming and I put a hand on my left knee to stop it jiggling. In mere minutes the lights would go up and Melissa Rogers would step onto the set. Actually, she’d take about a dozen steps. We had only ever talked over the app but I just knew she was The One. My right knee jiggled and I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath.

‘Rolling in 30 seconds,’ someone said. The crowd of assistants evaporated and the audience hushed. ‘Rolling,’ came the same voice. ‘Three, Two...’ A mental beat and the audience erupted, cameras spinning and panning back down to Larry King.

‘Welcome back Ladies and Gentlemen. I’m here with my guest Gideon Smith; a well-known entrepreneur. Some would say he could turn his hand to anything, others that he has enough hands to do so, but there’s one area he hasn’t been lucky in: Love.’

Another ‘Awwww,’ from the audience. I pursed my lips and nodded as Camera 3 zoomed in on me.

‘In that respect we have our first special guest today; could you please give a warm welcome to Gwenyth Palladin!’

‘Wait, what?’ I asked, craning my neck to see the new guest as the audience duly whooped and hollered.

What walked on stage could only be described as a battleaxe. A very short battleaxe, full of dents, nicks, and the scars of a particularly ferocious battle. Her eyes fixed on me, making me squirm in my seat, one hand slapping my forehead while others wrung around each other as if trying to detach themselves and leave.

Gwenyth pulled herself up into the chair next to mine, smiling courteously as Larry expanded the introduction then glowering at me when he said, ‘And Gwenyth, I believe you already know Gideon Smith?’

‘We dated,’ she said, icicles forming on the words. ‘Once.’

The audience ooo-ed and I sunk lower into my chair, burying my face between at least three hands.

I froze as camera 3 panned towards me, the words ‘LoserCam’ coming unbidden to my mind. After several goes at trying to make a word my mouth finally complied with, ‘Ah, yes, we, er, dated.’

‘And what happened?’ asked the talk show host.

‘He dumped me,’ interjected Gwyneth, ‘because I was too ugly.’

This did not go down well with the audience. Larry held one hand to his mouth in a gross parody of shock, ‘But the dating app – the one you designed, Gideon – didn't it say your personalities were a 93% match?’

Gwyneth crossed her arms. ‘Yes, Larry. I flew all the way from Philly but as soon as Mr Toomanyhands here met me, he started making excuses.’

‘I-I made a mistake, with the app,’ I stammered.

‘You made a mistake?’ asked Larry, grabbing a red and white bucket of popcorn.

‘Yes, well, I met someone else, through the app, and fell in love.’ Turning to Gwyneth I said, ‘I never meant to hurt you Gwyn...’

‘You left me before the main course arrived.’ She looked furious.

Larry threw more popcorn in his mouth, ‘Did you at least pay for the meal?’

I held my hands up, all of them, ‘I did, and I paid for her Uber to the airport.’

‘This other girl you met,’ Larry continued. ‘Who was she?’

‘Her name was Melissa Rogers,’ I said, straightening my shirt a little.

‘Oh, Melissa Rogers,’ Larry said with a glint in his eye. ‘Not...’

My heart stopped during his dramatic pause. No, I thought. No. No, NOO!

‘...Brenda Briarwood?’

Brenda Briarwood stomped on stage. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing as the audience went wild.

When I opened them again both of Brendas heads were frowning at me. I shrugged and said, ‘Well, look...’ I didn’t actually know what I was going to say, so I stopped before I said it.

‘I take it things didn’t work out between yourself and Mr Smith, is that right Brenda?’

Both her mouths opened and spoke at the same time before her heads regarded each other, did a silent ‘you first, no you first’, then turned and started speaking again. This time they were both saying the same thing, and it wasn’t complimentary.

Burying my face in my hands I blocked everything out until I heard Larry say, ‘Ladies, that’s terrible, but there’s two sides to every jilted lovers' story, maybe three in this case... Gideon, how do you respond to that?’

Shaking my head, I faced Larry and said, ‘I just couldn’t, Larry, I mean when you’re doing stuff with one head the other is always watching, it was disconcerting.’

Larry blanched, but recovered well. ‘But aside from that you got on well?’

I bit down hard on one fist until the temptation to say ‘She could be a little two-faced' passed, then said, ‘There were personality clashes.’

‘Personality clashes?’

‘Well, she could be a bit-’

Brenda Briarwood interrupted, shouting, ‘He tried to smother me!’

Her other head rolled her eyes and said, ‘You like that stuff you kinky bitch.’

They glowered at each other, before turning to face me and saying in unison, ‘You’re a jerk, Gideon!’

Gwyneth, arms still crossed, nodded in agreement.

‘Well Gideon, looks like it’s unanimous,’ Larry said with another trademark grin. ‘Shall we bring on our final guest?’

‘Is it Melissa Rogers?’ I asked.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome Melissa Rogers!’

Music started, camera four swung to capture the entrance and I thought, ‘Finally, my day is about to get better!’

It didn’t. Melissa Rogers was beautiful. Five foot barely nothing, emerald eyes flecked with gold set in a flawless face framed with a cute blonde bob. Head held high on a body they could mould hourglasses on she strode forward with a confidence that shouted, ‘I am my own woman and I will get what I want’... and when she looked at me it was obvious that what she wanted was me.

‘Wow,’ Larry said after he scooped his tongue off the floor.

‘Hello Larry,’ came a voice like a hot milkshake; thick, creamy, and full of sugar. Taking a seat on the last remaining stool, she took a perfect moment to smooth out the crushed black velvet of her dress, giving the other girls a nod, ‘Ladies,’ before turning her attention to me. Her chest, already large enough to believe somebody had rolled a whole bra catalogues worth of chests into one, grew larger as she heaved a breathless, ‘Gideon.’

I felt pinned to the spot. Shaking my head in disbelief I managed to say, ‘Melissa...’

Larry clapping a hand on my shoulder, said, ‘Whaddiya know Gideon, she’s fantastic! And according to your own app her scores are a 98% match to your personality.’

I looked from him to her, to her legs, and back, stammering ‘...but...’

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I think he’s as speechless as you are!’

‘No, no!’ I stood up, waving all my hands to stop the audiences spontaneous clapping. ‘This isn’t right!’

Melissa gave me a smouldering look as I turned to her. ‘What’s wrong Gideon?’ she asked, fluttering her eyelashes in a way that hinted innocence but promised something completely different.

‘Your profile, you’ve... you’ve gaslighted me.’

‘What do you mean? Not like what you see?’ Resting her chin on her hand, she pouted and let out a sigh that would melt the polar ice caps.

‘No, no, you’re lovely but... it’s your legs!’

For someone who was barely tall enough to ride a rollercoaster her legs seemed to go on forever, and everyone held their breath as she uncrossed and re-crossed them. Like a devil in a lamb costume, she asked, ‘What’s wrong with them?’

‘There’s only two of them!’ I said, my hands clenching and unclenching. ‘You said you had twenty feet!’

Melissa flushed, the golden curtains of her haircut falling across her face as she looked down. ‘But Gideon, I...’

The words hung there, and I turned on my heel, heading for the exit. One word rang out clear across the hushed studio. ‘Teats,’ she said. 'I said twenty... teats.'

I froze, slowly turning to face her. ‘Teats?’ I questioned.

Her eyes met mine and suddenly there were only two of us in the room. ‘I have twenty teats,’ she said.

Twenty teats. ‘Twenty teats?’ I said, slowly nodding. That could work. I extended one of my hands, she placed hers in mine and we fled out the emergency exit.