Hiss of Death by Rita Mae Brown

Author:Rita Mae Brown [Brown, Rita Mae; Brown, Sneaky Pie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-553-90808-4
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2012-02-27T13:00:00+00:00

Driving rock blared from the speaker system, but it still didn’t drown out all the grunts and heavy breathing. At six in the morning, the serious bodybuilders and athletes hit Heavy Metal Gym. Some people, like Harry, could work out early. Others, needing time for stiff muscles to awaken and warm up, as well as their minds, had to wait until lunch hour or after work. But there’s no way for a hard-core workout at lunch, so those people with a goal beyond simple fitness had to overcome the morning fatigue, much of it mental, to rev up and start moving iron.

Noddy Cespedes, a former successful bodybuilder now in her forties, walked with Harry between the rows of sweating gym members. “How long before you can perform your usual farm chores, anything that involves lifting?”

“Three more weeks. No muscle was cut. Well, obviously not. It was breast tissue. Dr. Potter advised giving myself time. The incision is only two inches.”

“Jennifer took care of Mom,” Noddy stated. “Do what she tells you. But you’re in good shape. You don’t need to work out unless you have specific goals.”

“I do. I know my radiation, which starts tomorrow, will make me tired. If I can do something new that would help me not lose muscle, I’d like to do that. I need to push myself through this. And once I’m a hundred percent, I will really need to play catch-up on some farm chores. I can’t afford to be weak.”

The other trainer was Kodiak Jenkins. That was his real name, for his parents were old hippies and thought Kodiak was a great name. It was, but anyone over forty hearing it always took a moment to adjust. Kodiak, also a competitive bodybuilder, stood behind a handsome young fellow on the bench press. When the kid pushed the bar to its height, Kodiak watched carefully. The young man, perhaps late twenties, not well built, already fat around his middle, would be transformed if he stuck to the program. Both trainers respected anyone who worked in an office, anyone going soft, who decided to reverse the inevitable slide to obesity.

Since Noddy could bench-press two hundred pounds and sported gorgeous triceps in perfect balance with her biceps, the male bodybuilders and athletes listened to her just as they listened to Kodiak. The gleaming trophies in her office bore testimony to her skill.

One thing both Harry and Noddy had learned about men was that if you prove yourself, the sniping and disrespect usually ends. This is not necessarily the case with other women. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.

Harry, though well built, had never lifted weights. Her wonderful body came courtesy of tossing sixty-pound alfalfa bales, riding twelve-hundred-pound horses, and sometimes having to hold them—which means you have twelve-hundred pounds in your hands. A farmer’s work develops a strong body, unless that farmer hits the bottle or eats too much fried food. Harry shied away from both, although she sure missed her mother’s fried chicken.

“What brought you to Heavy Metal instead of a fitness center?” Noddy asked.

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