In the Details

by H. Claire Taylor

  She knew the second the drugs laid into her because it was the second her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell onto her back, staring up at the top of the tent which was now the night sky.

  She rolled her head from side to side, taking in a Saharan sunset more vibrant than anything she’d seen in her nature shows. Was her spirit animal nearby? It must be, and the fact that she was in Africa held a lot of positive potential for the discovery.

  As she pushed herself to standing, the stars began falling from the sky, flying past her from a single origin. She scanned her surroundings and found it, that bright star. She was supposed to walk toward it, so she did. The sound of hoof beats began to rumble the ground beneath the dry grasses, and Jessica squinted toward the horizon for the source. It came closer and closer, then finally she saw it clearly. A herd of giraffes sprinting toward her.

  “Fuck yes!” she cried, pumping a fist into the air. “Best spirit animal ever!”

  The giraffes moved with the steady flow of the stars, and she planted her feet to let them come to her. Which one of these beautiful orange beasts was hers? She wanted to meet her, to hug her, maybe even to ride on her back if that wasn’t totally offensive to spirit giraffe customs.

  When the herd reached her, still running at full speed, they split, passing her on either side.

  None stopped to say hello like she’d hoped. She whirled around, hollering after them. “Wait! I’m one of your spirit humans! Come back!”

  But they didn’t. They kept running on with the flow of falling stars. Shitballs.

  Maybe there were more giraffes ahead. She pushed on. But what she encountered next was no giraffe; it was the reason the giraffes were running.

  A lean lioness appeared from behind a thick tree trunk, and stalked over to Jessica.

  “What’s up?” the lioness said.

  Jess waved her hands in front of her, “No, no, no. You can’t be my spirit animal.”

  “Why’s that?” asked the lioness.

  “Because spirit animals don’t say ‘what’s up.’”

  “We sure as shit do.”

  “No! You’re not supposed to curse!”

  The lioness sat straight, facing Jessica. “And why the hell not?”

  “You’re supposed to be majestic!”

  She swiped a gigantic paw at her. “Please. I’m majestic as fuck. Just look at the light glint off my fur!” She turned her head to the left and right, and sure enough, there was glinting.

  “You’re right.”

  The lioness stood and prowled closer. “Don’t you want to know my name?”

  “Is that important?”

  “Don’t be a dick. Of course it’s important. You want me to just call you ‘girl’? No, I didn’t think so.”

  “Fine, fine. What’s your name?”

  “Asha.”

  Jessica shook her head. “No, you’re making that up. That’s the name of my stuffed giraffe at work.”

  “Nah, bitch. You’re making it up. This is all happening in your mind.”

  Jessica flinched. “I could use some more creativity then.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  The flow of stars was beginning to slow, and Jessica figured that meant she didn’t have much time left. She took a seat and Asha laid down across from her. “I guess I should ask why you’re a lioness.”

  “I’m not the one to ask. I don’t know why I am what I am. Pretty sure it’s your job to obsess about this weird-ass encounter for the next thirty years of your life.”

  “I don’t know if I have that long.”

  The lioness bopped Jessica on the forehead with her massive paw. “Not this shit again. Listen. If you really want to figure out why I’m a lioness, maybe ask yourself what a lioness represents to you, okay? Jesus. I’m really not supposed to give you such obvious hints, but I guess I feel sorry for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come here.” Asha waved her closer and she remembered what Gloria had said about not resisting it. Asha already seemed agitated. Probably best not to prod her further.

  When Jessica scooted closer, Asha got up and adjusted to lay her head in Jessica’s lap.

  “Am I supposed to pet you?” Jess asked.

  “This will be kinda awkward if you don’t.”

  So Jessica did. And as the final few stars fell from the sky, Asha left her with these parting words of wisdom: “Randy tasted like pork.”

  Jessica was especially grateful for the vegetarian diet at Camp Mindfuck after her conversation with Asha, even as she raked at the baked spaghetti squash with her fork.

  “I can’t believe mine was a penguin,” Evan moaned. “I don’t even like the cold.”

  “Yeah, that sucks,” said Meg, whose spirit animal was a wild Arabian horse. “What was yours, Jessica?”

  She paused before answering. Her mind hadn’t truly left the encounter since she’d found herself staring up at top of the teepee, a mostly catatonic mess with drool slipping from each corner of her mouth hours before. “A lioness.” She clawed at the squash. “A foul-mouthed lioness.”

  It wasn’t Asha who Jessica had been fixated on, though, but Randy McAllister, the pervert demon with a fat doughnut around his middle who had tried to lure Jessica into a sex trap before stumbling backward, thanks to the mighty hand of God, falling into the lion’s den at the Dallas Zoo, and being summarily torn to bits.

  He tasted like pork.

  God still wasn’t cool with people eating pork, but clearly lions eating human that tasted like pork was fine, or else He wouldn’t have given Randy the little love tap.

  Sumus omnes porcos …

  Jessica shuddered.

  “A lioness is a pretty badass spirit animal,” Meg conceded. “I think it means you’re strong and fierce.”

  “And I eat demonic perverts,” she mumbled.

  “Come again?”

  Jessica paused, her fork hovering ahead of her lips. “Nothing. Sorry. Those drugs really did a number on me.”

  She’d seen Randy fall, seen the lionesses close in around him, and she even remembered rooting for Team Mega Cat. But she hadn’t witnessed the gore because Mrs. Thomas had pulled her away.

  Mrs. Thomas. How had she found her? Was it angel radar? There was so much of that day that Jessica simply couldn’t remember, but she supposed that was how trauma worked. She ought to put the whole thing out of her mind.

  “It’s so cool, it’s almost cliché,” said Evan. “I mean, the whole lioness spirit animal thing seems kind of obvious, right? Powerful feminine energy, the females being the most capable of the pride, blah, blah, blah.”

  Meg rolled her eyes and jabbed her fork at Evan to punctuate her words. “Bitterness does not become Penguins.”

  But Jess’s mind stayed on a loop. She’d seen the lioness in its enclosure, sleeping peacefully against the glass when she and Randy had first arrived. She remembered thinking that it was just a cat. Yes, a powerful one, but still just a cat. As people knocked on the glass and shouted at her to move or do something interesting, the lioness remained asleep. She didn’t want to eat anyone. Poor girl just wanted her beauty sleep. Everyone thought she owed it to them to be entertaining. And yet, when the time came for action …

  Those idiots got their entertainment in the end.

  Jessica chuckled.

  “Boy,” said Meg. “You really are losing it. Laughing to yourself?”

  “Just remembered something.”

  “Care to share?”

  Oh hell. Why not? It was like what Jameson said. Retreats allowed you to try things on for size with no lasting consequences. She might as well try blunt honesty about her past. “When I was eleven, I went to the zoo on field trip and my group leader tried to … well, he touched my ears, but looking back on it now, I’m pretty sure he was going to molest me.”

  Meg and Evan gaped in horror, clearly searching for the humor.

  “Anyway, before he could, he tripped and fell into the lion pit. They jum
ped on him and ate him before the zookeepers could help him.”

  Evan took a swig of water from her wooden cup and waggled a finger at Jessica. “Yeah, okay, I see why that’s funny.”

  “Weren’t you traumatized?” asked Meg, showing uncharacteristic concern.

  “Of course she was,” Evan answered. “Why the hell do you think her spirit animal is a lioness? Clearly it imprinted on her.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Jessica said. “Also, it’s fine because he was a demon.”

  Meg and Evan exchanged a quick look of concern. “A what now?” said Meg.

  “A demon. Well, he wasn’t a demon himself, but he let a demon inside him.”

  “O-kay,” said Evan, taking the strangeness in stride easier than Meg appeared to be.

  “I didn’t see the actual goring. My teacher found me and made me look away. She’s an angel, so I guess she could sense it or something.”

  Evan ran her tongue over her lips, nodding stiffly so her entire body rocked forward and back somewhat insanely on the bench. “An angel found you?” Before Jessica could respond, Evan’s gaze sharpened and she said, “Wait, didn’t she send you off alone with that creep in the first place?”

  “Well, yeah, but I don’t think she knew he was a creep when she agreed to let him take me to see the lions.”

  Meg set down her fork and smoothed her napkin on her lap as she inhaled deeply through her nose. “No. Doesn’t matter. Anyone who sends a child off alone with a man they hardly know has some seriously fucked judgment.”

  “But … no. Mrs. Thomas has great judgment. Way better judgment than me.”

  “The fact that she went looking for you tells me she knew something wasn’t right from the start and sent you off anyway. Shit. It’s a good thing public schools can’t afford field trips anymore.”

  Evan was insinuating some rather damning things, and Jessica was unable to sit still until she came to her teacher’s defense. “She felt bad about it, I promise. And everyone makes mistakes. She’s actually the one that suggested I come here.”

  Meg stared forlornly down at her spaghetti squash and said, “Verdict’s still out on whether that was a blessing or a curse.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Hard Conversations 101 seemed to Jessica like the most intimidating name they could have given this seminar. She would have felt much less apprehensive going into Easy Conversations 301 or Intermediate Conversations 201. But no, she was shoved right into the hard stuff along with everyone else at the retreat.

  With the morning’s digestive yoga wrapped up, she found a spot on the mats in the center of the sanctuary, crossed her legs, and stared up at Caren, who explained the need for hard conversations.

  It was the first genuinely leadership-focused activity provided since Jessica had arrived, and she wondered why they saved it until day four of five.

  “A hard conversation is the best gift you can give someone you care about. Whether that’s in a romantic, platonic, or business capacity, it remains true. Hard conversations are often unpleasant, but by engaging in one anyway, you’re telling the person they matter, that it’s worth the discomfort to do what needs to be done to clear the air and address the issue. It also shows your belief in a possible resolution. There are a million ways to burn bridges, but an honest, straightforward conversation is people on both sides of the divide working together to rebuild one.”

  Already, Jessica knew she would hate this.

  “The trick to conducting a hard conversation is simple: know what you will and will not accept going in.”

  Simple? How was that simple? Jessica had no idea of what she would and wouldn’t accept until someone had shoved it at her and she either found herself saying, “Thanks!” or “Ew, get it away!”

  “We’re going to start by providing our partner with an honest observation about them while you look them in the eyes. This first one should be neutral, like ‘your eyes are blue’ or ‘your hair is brown.’ Just make sure to stay away from debatable or relative observations, for example, someone who might seem tall to you is not objectively tall, they’re relatively tall in comparison to yourself. Okay, now partner up.”

  Dread washed through Jessica. It was like reliving the worst moments of middle and high school all over again. “Partner up” had always meant “see who you’re stuck with or if you’re actually the odd one out because even Gary ‘Busty Cats’ Higgins has someone who wants to be with him.”

  Jessica already knew Meg and Evan, who were sitting to her left, would pair up. So she turned to her right and found …

  A bunch of paired-up people.

  For fuck’s sake.

  “Raise your hand if you don’t yet have a partner,” Caren instructed.

  Swallowing the shame, as always, Jessica raised her hand. And so did one other person.

  Jessica hadn’t met the woman yet, but she’d smelled her the day before.

  The woman, who had thinning bleach-blonde hair, sun-damaged skin and the worst case of halitosis Jessica had ever encountered hurried over and squeezed in close.

  “Hi. Harmony.”

  That was unfortunate. Jessica’s new goal was to steer their conversation away from any words that included aspirates.

  “Jessica.”

  “I know.”

  “Now, looking each other in the eyes, take turns exchanging a neutral honest observation. Remember, not subjective.”

  Harmony smiled. “I’ll go first. Your cheeks are pudgy.”

  Jessica blinked. Not neutral, sort of a touchy subject, but okay.

  Now it was her turn. Instead of “your face is gaunt,” or “your breath is atrocious,” both of which were objectively true, Jessica went with, “Your eyes are green.”

  “Actually, they’re hazel,” said Harmony.

  Like hell they were.

  “Okay! Next up, I want you to make a positive observation about your partner, keeping that eye contact. Take turns. Go!”

  Harmony started again. “You have a Northern European nose.”

  Again, a strange one. Not a positive observation, exactly … “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Great. Her turn. She scanned Harmony quickly, trying not to frown too openly. “Your neck is … lean.” Jessica was digging on that one, and she knew it.

  “Thanks!” said Harmony. “I do exercises every day to keep it that way.”

  It was then that Jessica decided this would not, under normal circumstances, be someone she would bother having a hard conversation with.

  “Very good!” said Caren. “I could tell that one was easy for some, difficult for others. That’s okay! Even saying positive honest things can be difficult. It makes us vulnerable to rejection if the observation is debated. Now comes the moment you’ve been waiting for. I want you to give honest negative feedback to your partner.”

  This felt rushed and unproductive, and Jessica struggled to keep from jittering. How could she give Harmony any negative feedback other than “Your breath smells like I imagine a Florida sinkhole would”? She couldn’t see past that one thing to find anything else worth mentioning.

  Harmony went first again, grinning gently. “Your flat chest gives you a boyish figure in these robes.”

  “The hell is your problem?” Jessica snapped.

  Harmony feigned shock. “It’s just the exercise.”

  Gritting her teeth, Jessica composed herself and then went for it. “Okay, my turn. Your horrendous breath is a real issue that should be medically addressed.”

  Jessica rolled to the side just in time. Harmony flopped face first onto the hard tile floor of the dome after being unable to adjust the trajectory of her lunge. Jessica jumped up, ready to flee, but there was no need. Caren hurried over and asked what was the problem while Harmony was still tripping over her loose pants, trying to get her footing.

  “She tried to fight me,” Jessica said as calmly as she could.

  What would inevitably come next was Caren’s r
equest for an explanation of what had transpired. This was a goddamn “learning opportunity” for the seminar if she ever saw one. She hated learning opportunities anytime she was the cause of them.

  But instead, Caren nodded and said, “Well, not everyone is ready to hear honesty. Let’s … have you two split up.”

  When it was done, Jessica had joined Evan and Meghan, who seemed unimpressed by the exercise in general.

  “Okay, next up: a role play,” Caren said, like it wasn’t everyone’s nightmare. “You’re going to pretend the other person is someone who you’ve been meaning to have a hard conversation with. Think up an opener, and keep this one rule in mind: do not pad the blow. Your instinct is to provide a compliment to soften the blow of honesty, but then you simply end on a sour note. Instead, cut right to it, speak as objectively as possible, and end with a genuine compliment that explains why it’s important to you to have this hard conversation. I’ll demonstrate first.” She pulled up one of the other teachers and the two stood only a foot from each other as they looked directly into each other’s eyes. “Kimberly, you have been taking longer than anyone else to complete your portion of the laundry lately, and it has been slowing down our routine and cutting into our morning meditation time. You’re an invaluable asset to our cabal, and I’m confident you can work to improve this. If there’s anything I can do to help you accomplish your tasks faster, please let me know.”

  Kimberly tilted her head, accepting the honesty. “There is. If we could invest in an electric washer and dryer instead of the washboards—”

  “See?” Caren said, turning to the class. “I cut right to the chase with the problem, didn’t call names, didn’t say there was anything wrong with her, only her results, and then ended with the reason why it is important to have that conversation with her. I even offered to help her figure out how to solve the problem, which is a nice way to ease tensions if you sense the person you’re speaking to isn’t receptive to the conversation. Make them feel like you’re in it together, that it’s not all up to them.”