The characters of Evelyn and Edward belong to Fannie Flagg's novel Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, and the 1991 film based on it.

Towanda's Battle

Fried Green Tomatoes

Evelyn Couch had done a fairly good job this week.

On Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday she had done Jane Fonda's workout video, 45 minutes each, sweating with effort at the aerobic dance moves and crunches that followed. She even wore leg warmers like Jane did, but she'd get so sweltering hot five minutes into it she'd take them off. She did wish that Jane had picked better music for the video, though.

On Monday and Friday she had taken a long walk down her shady suburban street, admiring Mrs. Jackson's daffodils and smiling at the Fosters' yippy little terrier. She even had a Sony Walkman with her as she'd strolled along, listening to her favorite Diana Ross cassette. She had to admit, she felt hip.

She had eaten fairly decently, counting calories to 1200 or 1300 every day. A piece of whole wheat toast and an orange for breakfast. Salad with chicken or vegetable soup and Rye Crisp Crackers with cottage cheese for lunch. Limited portions of the suppers she made for Ed. Numerous glasses of water with a lemon thrown in for taste.

It was Saturday morning. Her husband, Edward, had gotten up and was flipping channels looking for the U of A's football playoff. But before Evelyn could get coffee and fix him a little breakfast- oh my God- Ed, please don't ask me to make you sausage- she agonized- she had to do it.

She had to go step on the bathroom scale.

The plump, pleasant looking housewife of forty-eight years took off her floral robe and made certain she was wearing the absolute lightest nightgown she owned. She padded lightly to the bathroom, and her feet found themselves carefully poised before that little, square piece of avocado-green metal.

She took a deep breath, and stepped one foot lightly on it. She put one hand on the sink while she slowly, gingerly set her other foot on the cold little contraption. She closed her eyes. She slowly let go of the sink.

Evelyn opened her eyes. It was a good week, it was a good week! Come on Evie! The little numbers spun.

185.

What is wrong with this? Huh?

The tiny red line was set squarely between 180 pounds and 190 pounds.

No. Just, no.

Evelyn's face started to flush crimson with anger. She hopped off the scale and stepped on again, a little quicker this time.

This time, the little red line went past 185, just a hair.

In a swift moment, Evelyn, her eyes filled with tears of frustration, bent down and gripped the little green scale with her hands, and shook it until it rattled.

She ceased being Evelyn that moment.

It was time for Towanda.

Towanda the Avenger was the righter of wrongs, the champion of all frustrated women in America. Towanda would set little bombs within dirty magazines, set to explode when men opened them. Towanda would perform much-necessary surgery on rapists. She would destroy breast cancer and ovarian cancer for eternity. She would require that all fashion models weigh no less than 135. She would ban uncomfortable support hose, and declare that brassieres must be made with stretchy cotton only, no under-wiring. Towanda was a heroine.

Towanda was now smashing the little bathroom scale against her seashell-print curtained window.

CRASH! The window shattered. Finally, she had broken a hole in the window big enough to shove the scale through. It landed with a thump in the backyard outside.

"EVELYN! What the hell?"

Ed rushed into the bathroom, a confused look on his face. When he saw the broken window, he threw his hands up and hollered at the top of his lungs.

"You broke the window, Evelyn! What the blazes has gotten into you, honey? You wanna destroy this whole house? Are you goin' crazy?"

Towanda left and Evelyn returned, looking dazed and agonized at her husband. She burst into sobs.

"Oh, Ed... I'm sorry! I... I threw the scale out the window! I didn't lose any weight this week and I'm so sick of my damn diet!"

The stout man with thick dark hair, turning salt and pepper at the sideburns, stood looking at his wife in confusion, then he started to grin in amusement.

"Well, Evie, I'm kinda sick of your damn diet too. I really hate that rabbit food you've been makin' lately. Can I take you out for breakfast? They have healthy stuff at Denny's if you ask."

Evelyn snatched some pink toilet paper from the nearby roll and wiped her eyes. "Oh, Ed, but the window's going to cost us a couple hundred dollars to fix! How can you think of going out to eat now? What about the game on TV?"

"I know who's going to win that football game anyway, honey." He stepped forward toward Evelyn and wrapped her in his meaty arms in a tight squeeze. She avoided his eyes, still ashamed of her behavior, but he sought her face and pressed his lips to hers.

She was surprised at the loving attitude he suddenly showed. He wasn't angry! It made her feel a passion for him that she hadn't felt in quite a while.

After they broke the kiss, Ed gave a side glance to the window and grinned at her. "Aw, heck, I'll put a screen in. You're always complaining you're too hot at night- whaddya call it, night flashes?"

"Hot flashes." Evelyn giggled girlishly. Ed had really come around lately. Ever since Evelyn's friendship with Mrs. Threadgoode, she had gained some purpose in her dismal life, and her empty-nest depression and menopausal gloom had brightened a bit. She'd had a happy week, but the setback with her diet was still a struggle- she'd only lost three pounds in the first month- and this morning was a bit of an emotional backslide.

Still, the remedies that Ninny suggested had worked. She was feeling more energetic. More alive. And most of all, Ninny had taught Evelyn that her life was not over yet. Why, she could have forty...fifty more years if she wanted.

And the "new Evelyn" with her newfound attitude and spunk, had sparked a noticeable change in Ed. He was more attentive to her lately.

More...romantic.

"It's our anniversary next weekend. Twenty five years. Where do you want to go?" he asked.

Evelyn smiled. "Well, I always want to visit Mrs. Threadgoode every Saturday, but after I visit her, we could go to Birmingham and get a hotel room. I have always wanted to go to an off-Broadway play. I know, doesn't sound like fun to you, Ed, but... it's always been something I have wanted to do."

Ed embraced Evelyn even tighter. "Sounds like a fine idea," he agreed. He started to pull her toward the white chenille-covered bed, and they climbed in. It was a nice, lazy Saturday morning, after all. They had until later that afternoon to make their weekly visit to Rose Terrace Nursing Home.

Ed took the reciever off the rotary-dialed phone. He resumed kissing Evelyn, who in his eyes was more beautiful every year, while the U of A football playoff droned on from the TV down the hall.

A.N. This was a fun writing exercise I did all in one morning! Evelyn's a fun and real character, I had to do something on her. No offense to the lovely Kathy Bates, I have no idea how much she weighed in the movie, I am going by the book where Evelyn said she wore a size 16. I absolutely cannot relate to Evelyn's dieting struggle at all. No way. :P