Abating

Abating: English term for anesis: adding a concluding sentence that diminishes the effect of what has been said previously. The opposite of epitasis (the addition of a concluding sentence that merely emphasizes what has already been stated. A kind of amplification).

I couldn’t believe I had new tap shoes. Well, they weren’t actually new, but they were new to me. The metal taps were worn down, and there was a big toe bump, and the leather was cracked on the crease across the toes. They were well-shined and had new laces and they were a perfect fit. I was going to compete in the North Jersey Tap-Tap Dance Contest. My dad was a mobster and promised to put “The Con” in the con-test. The next day, the other contestants started getting kneecap and ankle injuries. It happened when they were in line for the movies or the check out line at the grocery store, or the DMV. It was suspicious, but I knew my dad had my best interests at heart. He would kill for me, even if he didn’t have to.

The date of the contest came. There was only one competitor left. Her family had been at the shore during dad’s “enterprise.” Her name was “Sin.” Her father was a Baptist preacher and he had named her “Sinful.” “Sin” was appliquéd in a flame motif on each shoe.

We were ready to go. Since there was just the two of us, we went straight to the final dance off. We were dancing to “The Flight of the Bumble Bee.” We were facing each other. Our feet were blurs, and, I swear, the stage started smoking from metal tap friction.

All of a sudden, one of the screws in my front tap came out and rolled across the stage. The loose tap got stuck in a seam between two boards on the stage. My foot made a cracking sound and I flew of the stage. I landed on my head and was knocked unconscious. When I was unconscious, I saw myself flying through outer space in a red tap shoe, landing on the moon and dancing with the man in the moon to “Flight of the Bumble Bee.”

Dad was at the hospital and he was crying because he couldn’t “get to the girl.” I told him it was ok and the morphine they were giving me made it all worthwhile. They scanned my brain and saw a blue light inside it. They told me not to worry, only my wiping and my arithmetic skills would be affected. I didn’t know there was such thing as a professional butt wiper. I Googled wipers in my zip code. I interviewed three candidates on Zoom. I chose the one who was wearing latex gloves. Also, I bought a bidet to make things easier on my wiper. Her nickname was “Betty Scoop.” I thought that was pretty funny. We spent quality time together every morning. We talked about everything. —my diet, her desire for children, etc. We fell in love and got married. My weird friends threw rolls of toilet paper at us when we came out of the church.

I’ve gone back to competitive tap dancing. It will probably kill me.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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