“What’s the deal with this Jasper character?” ‘Rob’ said, loud enough for the guy two rows ahead of him to hear. “She got something going with this black guy?” again he said aloud, but somewhat more subdued. He didn’t want one of the local brotha’s to take exception and beat the shit out of him over the remark. He was more than a little annoyed that she was here and obviously at the request of the large black man. Somehow he felt betrayed, angry that she was sneaking around on him. “I’ll have to put a stop to this, that’s for sure,” he said, even more quietly than he had the other remarks. Standing, he zoomed in as much as the little camera would allow, and took a picture of Jasper as he flexed his quads to the overwhelming acceptance of the audience. “Gross, you oversized gorilla! I’ve got an equalizer I’ll be introducing you to, yeah then let’s see how tough you are.” He walked down the right side of the auditorium until he was in a position to take some pictures of Blanche without her knowing. Once satisfied, he placed the camera in his pocket, pulled his hat down over his eyes and left the arena. He was in the mood to deliver another message to the people of Valdosta.
At what Blanche thought would be the conclusion of the event, all of the contestants were brought back onto the stage and the runner’s up were announced for both sexes leaving only two of each sex left standing, still playing to the crowd. Fortunately Jasper was one of them, to Rufus’ jubilance. A black woman and the Filipino stood side by side, awaiting the judge’s decision. The auditorium was a hush as the name was read and the crowd burst into chants and applause. The black woman accepted the title, the roses and the trophy, parting with a few poses for good measure.
The women were ushered off the stage and the MC took to the central microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unusual finale for you tonight. Our two male competitors have tied for the title of Mr. Muscle.” The crowd went wild, people stomping their feet and issuing hand breaking applause before the MC could get them back under control. “We are going to have a flex-off. One song will be played, of the judges choosing, and both men will appear on stage at the same time. They will perform as they see most appropriate to win them the title of Mr. Muscle. They will have 90 seconds to impress you and the judges. We will begin in one minute!” Blanche was on pins and needles. Very energized, hoping for a Jasper win. The entire event had been very exciting and she finally felt the thrill the audience had been feeling all night. The two men each took to the stage and awaited the music. Jasper positioned himself directly in front of Rufus and Blanche.
“Dat’s my boy, dat’s my boy,” he said, excitedly pointing to Jasper.
The music began, and the men flexed, bounced and jiggled for the audience, bringing catcalls and whistles from even the most reserved looking women. At one segment in the music there was a heavy thumping of the drums. Jasper put his hands on his hips, flexing his back, making him appear twice as wide and whipped his package forward in a rather ‘stripper like’ fashion. Blanche reflexively snapped her head back as if she’d been hit in the forehead. He did the move a few more times after seeing the reaction he got from the crowd. Now she was sure there would be a raid from the vice squad. The music stopped and Blanche rifled through her purse for the hanky she hoped she had hidden there.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience, we have a winner. Join me in awarding the title of Mr. Muscle to Jasper Jackson of Valdosta, Georgia. He jumped and thrust his hand into the air before giving the audience a few more muscle crunching moves. Blanche and Rufus jumped up and down, and hugged, seemed like the natural thing to do. A moment later Jasper jumped from the stage, took the librarian in his arms, picked her up, smearing her clothing with body oil and spun her around in a triumphant dance of celebration. She didn’t quite know how to react but gave him a kiss on the cheek and congratulated the hulking giant for his win. He placed the little woman down and picked up Rufus in a monster bear hug and repeated the same happy dance.
“Can’t believe I won. I really won! Thanks so much for comin' Blanche. You were my inspiration tonight, could notta done it without ya cheerin' me on,” Jasper said, trying to catch his breath.
“I don’t know how true that is, I think the whole crowd had your back tonight, but I’m so glad I came. It was a lot of fun,” she sincerely responded.
“Ya sho nuff kicked der ass ta night son,” Rufus threw in, still pumping his fist in a celebratory fashion.
“You gonna stick around till I get cleaned up?” the bodybuilder asked.
Blanche looked down at herself and her now almost see through blouse, “Under the circumstances, I think I better get home and get these things in some cold water before they stain.” She could tell he was disappointed so she continued, “But, how about we get together this weekend for a celebration, like an ice cream Sunday or something really unhealthy?” His smile returned to his face.
“That would be awesome. I’d like that a lot,” Jasper replied.
“Yup, dat sounds like fun, where should we go?” Rufus interjected.
“I don’t think she was including you pops,” the nearly naked man clarified.
“Sho she was, why ya think des good lookin’ women always jus intrested in you? I still got what it takes.” Putting his hands on his hips, mimicking what Jasper had done on stage, and flexed his groin forward. “Tode ya so.”
“Listen you two, I’ll let you sort out the details and I’m happy with one or both of you coming, but I should run. Why don’t you pick me up around 6:30 on Saturday night?” She registered the day in her head, remembering that it was now Wednesday.
“It’s a date,” Rufus said, as Jasper shrugged his shoulder and winked at Blanche.
“See you then,” Jasper whispered, without making a sound.
Blanche found the same cab she’d taken to the event and lazily enjoyed the ride back to her room, running the image of Rufus doing the ‘bump and grind’ through her head, bringing a smile to her face each time she imagined the old guy shaking his groove thing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘Rob’ left the Mr. Muscle competition angry that he’d not had a greater opportunity to photograph Blanche. Frustration, and the pressure from his employers to get two more outings in before the weekend, had set him on edge and he knew he needed some release. A house in an estate area, with plenty of valuables, would ease his tension. He cautioned himself that working out of impulse and rage could lead to sloppy work, and the possibility of leaving unwanted clues, or even capture. Pulling the van to the side of a lonely road, he took a couple of deep breaths, closed his eyes, and focused on the job at hand. His pulse reacted, slowing, 80 bpm — 70–60 and stable, his breathing also more shallow, more controlled, his mind more clear, as he meditated and drew his attention away from the librarian and saw within his mind’s eye the house he intended to invade.
Months ago, he had almost burgled the home he saw now, but the owners had come home unexpectedly, just as he was climbing the back fence and he had aborted the mission. It was a large brick home, four-car garage, with at least one Porsche, but best of all, no security system. He’d noted the signs in the windows and the placard displayed prominently near the front door, indicating that a security system was in place. Normally, he would simply bypass such a house but this was too perfect, too good a score to just let it slide. Two months ago, he’d donned a pair of coveralls, complete with sunglasses, hat, and clipboard and had walked the neighborhood pretending to read the meters on the side of each home. When he had arrived at the house in question, he had carefully examined the wiring leading into the home, as well as the casement around the windows, for signs of a security system. Nothing. He also had managed to get a view through a window to the entryway, no control panel, nothing that would point to a security system in place.