Word: Feirie

 

feirie

[ feer-ee ]

 

adjective Scot.

healthy; strong.

********************************

               Jason felt out of place the moment he stepped foot in the building. He knew he would see a lot of people in good shape, it was a health center, after all. But this was beyond what he had expected. Every single person looked like they belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine. And since everyone around him sported a six pack, it made him even more aware that he had himself a sizable keg.

               The only reason he did not turn around and leave was because he had promised his parents he would at least try. He took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves and approached the front desk. It was staffed by a very pretty young woman who looked like her idea of fun was a ten mile run.

               “Hello, and welcome to New Life Health Club.” She said, far too cheerfully for Jason’s liking. “How may I help you?”

               “Uh, yeah, I, uh, I’m here to join. I read a lot of reviews about this place that say you get fast results, so, uh, yeah.”

               “Oh we do indeed. I can guarantee that. We’ll get you in the best shape of your life, and then make that even better. And in way less time than a normal gym.”

               “That good, I guess. Uh, this isn’t going to involve any weird chemicals, is it?”

               “Nope. We do have our special workout shakes, but there’s nothing unusual about those. The ingredients are freely available if you want them. Other than that, it just the normal workout supplements that you can find anywhere.”

               “Oh, okay. So, how do it work? I mean, without anything dubious.”

               “Lots and lots of effort. I mean it. Like, a huge amount. Most people see fast and think easy. But it’s not. Not by a long shot. You’ll leave here in pain and wake up sore. There will be sweat. There will be tears. No blood though, thank goodness. It will be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. Well, physically anyway. But the results speak for themselves.”

               That did not sound like fun for Jason. He was very much the sit on the couch and play games kind of guy. The last time he had done anything strenuous was in high school. The receptionist clearly noticed his reluctance.

               “Here, let me show you something.”

               She reached behind the counter and pulled out a photo album, of all things. She looked around the room, then flipped through the album. She landed on a picture of a man even larger around the middle than Jason was.

               “See this guy?” She asked. “This is him when he first came here. That’s him now.” She pointed to a man who looked like he could use his own body as muscle chart for med students. “He got to where he is in around five months.” The receptionist said before she flipped through a few more pages. She showed him a picture of a young, very unhealthy woman. “This was me when I first got here.”

               Jason looked at the fat, dumpy woman in the picture and then at the incredibly fit beauty in front of him. There was a passing resemblance, but to think they were the same person was difficult to believe.

               “I could barely move when I first arrived since I was so out of shape. Now?”

               She placed her hands on the counter and jumped, easily landing on it. She pushed her body into a perfect handstand, and then even took one hand off the counter. She remained perfectly steady. She then arched her back until both her hand and her feet were both touching the counter. From the awkward position, she launched herself into a perfect back flip, landing on her feet. Then simply hopped back down behind the counter.

               “I got to this point in seven months.” She said. “I felt like quitting every day for four of them. But you can see the results. That’s what this place is. It’s back breaking work and constant effort, with results to match. If you don’t think you can handle that, then yeah, you can leave and find a normal gym. It’ll be easier, but much slower, and results are not guaranteed. So? What are you going to do?”

               Jason looked at the photo that still rested on the counter, then at the receptionist. He cast his gaze at the other incredibly fit people that went in and out of the health club.

               “Oh, what the heck. I’ll do it.”

              ***********************************

 I should probably get some more exercise. There's no places even remotely close to this where I am though, so it can be a little tough sometimes. I try to do some every day, but results are about as limited as you probably think. But, well, it's what I have, so it's what I do.

Word: Fructify

 

fructify

[ fruhk-tuh-fahy, frook-, frook- ]

See synonyms for: fructify / fructifying on Thesaurus.com

---

verb (used without object), fruc·ti·fied, fruc·ti·fy·ing.

1. to bear fruit; become fruitful: With careful tending the plant will fructify.

verb (used with object), fruc·ti·fied, fruc·ti·fy·ing.

2. to make fruitful or productive; fertilize: warm spring rains fructifying the earth.

*********************************

               Vic brought down his machete, cutting through more vines. He swore the more he got through, the denser the rest of them became. Maybe it was just the fact that he had been cutting through the jungle for over a week. The heat and humidity were not helping his mood.

               “You know, doc.” He said as he cut through another plant that was blocking the vaguely defined path. “I know it’s not my job to ask questions, and I don’t get paid to know stuff, but after a week of this, I think I can bend the rules a little bit. Why the hell are we out here?”

               His employer, Dr. Reeve, looked up from his map and compass. He regarded the larger man carefully before replying. “I suppose you’re right. And it’s not like we’re in any danger of being overheard out here. Very well. We are searching for a very rare plant. This plant has only one known specimen alive. This is for a very important reason. It only bears fruit once every century. Nobody knows why this is, but that is not important. What is important is that it will be fruiting soon. That’s what we’re after.

               Vic paused mid swing. He turned to look at the small scholar. “Are you telling me that we came out here to the middle of the jungle for a piece of fruit?”

               “A rather simplistic view, but essentially correct. It is a fruit nobody alive has ever seen. I plan on using this fruit to breed more of the plant, not only saving the species, but also gaining very valuable subjects to study.”

               “It’s still a piece of god damned fruit!”

               “The rarest in the world, Victor. Not something you can just pop down to the supermarket for. Now come on, let’s continue. It should not be too much farther away. I want to take a few measurements, photos and samples before the fruit forms and ripens.”

               “Ripens? We’re going to be here until the damn fruit ripens?” Vic growled.

               “Of course. Why did you think I specified a long term expedition in your contract? Don’t worry, all the records say it has a very short ripening time. Oddly, it does not specify how long it is, just that it is short.”

               Vic was very close to turning around and leaving Dr. Reeve in the jungle. It was only his professional reputation that kept him from doing so. Even if he hated every moment of it and thought the goal was idiotic.

               It was an hour later that they reached a small clearing. Although calling it a clearing was not quite right. The plant life was still quite dense, but it was all low growth flora. The only real tree there was in the center of it. A large tree with sprawling branches that formed a rough dome shape. Dr. Reeve became immediately animated and he began fawning over the tree.

               “Seriously? This is it?” Vic asked.

               “Yes, Victor, this is it. This is our destination.”

               “Doesn’t look important enough to come all the way out here.”

               “Looks are very often deceiving, Victor. But do not worry, it shall be all worth it once it starts fruiting.”

               “And what do we do until then?”

               “You do nothing. Well, unless some pressing danger arrives. I will be quite busy though.”

               “So, I just sit and wait while you do whatever it is you do?”

               “Just so.”

               Vic did not need any further instructions. He plodded towards the tree, cleared out a space for himself, and sat down. He just hoped he would not be waiting for too long.

*******************************

Honestly, I would probably be more interested in eating the fruit than anything else. Probably a good thing I'm not part of any expedition like this. 

Word: Bewray

 

bewray

[ bih-rey ]

 

verb (used with object) Archaic.

1. to reveal or expose.

2. to betray.

********************************

               There was something wrong with the staff. They looked at Sen. Adams with nervous eyes and spoke in hushed tones. He could only assume they knew something he didn’t. He knew he should ask one of them, but he did not converse with the hired help. He had people who did that for him. Besides, Sheila would know. He could always could on her for things like that.

               “Hello, sir.” Sheila said as he approached. She was there before him, like always. It was one of the many reasons she was the only person qualified to be his secretary.

               “Good morning, Sheila. Any news for me?”

               She shuffled in her seat and avoided eye contact. That was odd. She had worked for him for his entire political career, and she had never once looked nervous around him.

               “You…might want to check the news sites when you sit down, sir. It’s bad.”

               “How bad?”

               “Bad.”

               Well, if she did not want to tell him, then it could not be as bad as she seemed to want him to believe. It was probably just a few blurry photos of his more clandestine meetings. He could easily deal with those. He had dealt with worse.

               A few minutes later and he was shaking. He had not dealt with something this much worse. This was indeed catastrophic for his career. Maybe even his life. Somehow every single one of his dealings had been posted on the internet. Every receipt, every recording, every document. He was, in effect, ruined.

               He hit his intercom, calling for the only person he could trust to keep him afloat.

               “What’s the backlash?” He asked.

               “So far? Not too much.” Sheila said. “But it’s still early, and every minute more people are finding out about the leaks. My best guess is the only way out is for you to resign.”

               He groaned and rubbed his face into his hands. How could this have happened? He was careful. He never put any of his secrets online, just so this kind of thing did not happen. There was only one explanation.

               “How? How could this happen? How could I have been betrayed like this?”

               “Sir?”

               “It’s obvious, Sheila. The only way a leak of this degree could’ve been made is if there’s a traitor here. A traitor in my staff, of all places!” he let out a heavy sigh. “I just need to find out who.”

               “I’ll go through the employee roster, sir.” She said.

Sen. Adams looked at his secretary. She was calm. Very calm. Her livelihood was tied with his, how could she be so steady? He knew she was good at hiding her inner emotions, but not that good. And there were a lot of leaked documents. Documents that only two people had access to.

               “Don’t bother.” He said. “I think I know who the traitor is.”

               Now she hesitated. It was a slight thing. Most people would have overlooked her slight tell. But he knew her well enough to spot it, provided he was looking close enough.

               “Who is it, sir?” She asked.

               “You know who. You knew even before I mentioned the possibility, didn’t you?” Her silence was all the confession he need. “Why? Why did you do this to me? How could you betray me after everything we’ve been through? I thought you of all people were loyal.”

               “Sir…no, I guess I should just call you Henry now, shouldn’t I? Well, Henry, it’s because it needed to be done.” She said, facing him dead in the eye. “You needed to be stopped. If this had gone on any longer, you would’ve turned this country into a dictatorship. A fascist regime that serves only to crush your opponents. I couldn’t work for someone with goals like that anymore.”

               “That…you know why I have to do that. You know why—”

               “No, Henry. You only think that. You’re arrogance and megalomania tell you you’re the only person fit to lead. That’s the problem. You can’t even see why it’s a catastrophically bad idea.”

               Henry clenched his teeth and fists. An image of her face caved in flashed in his mind. He could do it. There was no shortage of blunt objects in the office he could use to kill the traitorous secretary. Before he could, she spoke again.

               “Just be glad I didn’t call any authorities on you. Yet. I’ll be going now. My last act as your secretary was to schedule a press conference. It’s in three hours, right outside the office. Every major news group will be there. I won’t be helping you with them. Good luck.”

               With that, she turned and left the office. He slumped back in his chair. His heart beat like a drum and he could feel a cold sweat start to form. His mind raced. He needed to come up with something, anything, to save himself and his career. And he had three hours to do it. He hunched over his desk and got to work.

************************

If only this sort of thing happened more often in real life. There's quite a few politicians out there who could do with a little airing out.