Oh this is just not a good turn of events.
I was called into one of the facilities interview rooms this morning for a little one on one with Director Moore. (Oh this is going to be fun) He likes to stand in silence for a good couple of minutes after someone enters a room so that just when you can’t bear the tension any more and are about to confess your every sin… he speaks.
This time it felt more like hours.
Not only was I about to tell him about the drawing but I also felt the urge to reveal that when I was eleven, I peed in my sister’s shampoo. (I have never told her.)
He didn’t know about the drawing. (aaannnd relax) He told me that he thought I should talk to ‘John’ today. (aaaand tense again!) That I should try to gauge his reaction to the events of yesterday, given I’m the one he seemed to be protecting it was logical to assume he’s be more open about it.
I went looking for him in the grounds and had almost given up when I was yanked by my arm into a small garden area. I found myself face to face with a very serious looking ‘John’ and before I had the chance to urinate all over myself he said, “Who am I? Tell me the truth.” His voice was low but not entirely threatening. (So I ignored the urge to drop to the floor and curl up in the foetal position, weeping.) I tried to side step the question asking him if he was alright. He just countered with another question, “Am I some kind of criminal, you wouldn’t be keeping me here under guard if I wasn’t dangerous.”
I tried again not to answer him, “Dangerous?” He started pacing around the path talking (as much to himself as to me) “What I did to that man, it was, I mean it wasn’t, how could I, why would..” I interrupted his (slightly demented) train of thought, asking him to calm down, trying to reassure him.
It didn’t work.
He just kept asking more and more questions. He wanted to know who he was, why he was here, if I knew him before, why everyone seemed to hate him. It was a bit difficult to keep track of. (But then I’ve always been a bit slow on the uptake.)
He stared at me for a moment waiting for me to pick a question to answer. I said I didn’t know. He immediately replied “You’re lying.” He began to storm away and I (in a shocking display of honesty and possibly stupidity) shouted after him, “I can’t tell you.”
“Why don’t you want me to tell them about my dream?” He asked walking back towards me. I gave him the same answer. He asked a couple more question and I just gave him the same answer.
He wasn’t happy. I knew he wasn’t happy because he punched a plant pot, which I thought was incredibly productive. He looked at the pile of clay and dirt looking a little sheepish before he saw my nervous expression. His face became serious and he came closer. “I scare you?” The tone of voice he used was heard breaking and I looked at the ground.
That’s when I noticed the blood dripping on to the path from his hand. He had cut it open on the plant pot. (A little queasy, breathe, deep breath, okay am fine.) I said we should go find one of the many, many, many doctors and nurses floating around and get that looked at but he refused to go anywhere.
Not until I answered one question.
He took another couple of steps closer (Eeep) and quietly asked, “Do I scare you?” Looking me right in the eye, “Right now, this moment are you afraid of me?”
(Well that is a loaded question John.)
I couldn’t think what to say, I thought about telling the truth before I realised I wasn’t exactly sure myself. I was trying to think, trying to decide, trying to… oh great googlymoogly he was getting awfully close.
And then it happened. I am fairy certain that for a moment there was NAT.
(NAT: Acronym for Nose Avoidance Tilting. It’s from a British sitcom called Coupling. I love that show! It refers to the moment a person begins to tilt their head so as to avoid smooshing your noses together. In other words, it’s the moment right before someone moves in for a kiss!)
“No.” I knew I had to say something, something that would stop whatever it was that was happening. (Whatever it was it involved me and that’s never a good sign)
It did the trick. He backed off slightly. I think he was trying to see if I was telling the truth…
This isn’t happening. I am not that stupid. John is sweet but he’s just an illusion. He’s just a blank slate who has a knack of seeming like a nice, charming (and a little wicked,) person… with a great smile… and also why does he have to look a million times hotter with his hair all messy and uncombed.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
In case you hadn’t got it.