Hello dear ones,

This week, I invite you to slowly look around your space right now and let your eyes land on something that feels neutral to pleasant to look at.

Go ahead, take your time.

And when your eyes have landed, ask: How do you know it feels neutral to pleasant to look there?

What sensations can you notice in your body?

Holding this inquiry, I pose another question: Can you feel yourself breathing in this moment?

Don’t change your breathing——continue naturally if you’re able, but can you place your attention on this rhythmic pulse?

Allow yourself to feel into your inhales and exhales.

For today, let’s use the symbol [ o o o ] as a reminder to soak in a pleasant visual (think: “oo” two eyes) through your pulsing body, while noticing inner sensations and remaining aware of breath (the spaces between). Or more simply, let it symbolize three breaths. When you see this symbol—once in the middle, and again at the end of the entries to follow—I invite you to return to your pleasant visual or simply reconnect with your breath.

Thank you for being here.

Rooting for you,
Rebecca

---

[If you're newly joining, this is part 8 of an ongoing journey. Here are part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7.]

May 30, 2021
It was time to assign tasks for the day of crack-sealing.

“What do you want to do?” Don asked me.

“I'll do anything,” I replied, feeling fresh and ready for any role in that moment.

“Well if you don't pick you'll be assigned,” he warned.

“I haven't driven yet,” I said, “I'll drive.”

“Okay.”

Driving meant driving the 450 Dump truck that was hauling the large tar pot equipment – essentially pulling a trailer from a big truck with no rear-view mirror.

The summer of ‘18 we drove a trailer all summer, all across Colorado, into Wyoming and Utah. Last summer at my previous park job, occasionally we'd haul long trailers of rock.

It had been 6-9 months since I'd last driven with a trailer, but I knew it'd come back.

“We need to go down to the pullout and turn the rig around, can you do it?” Don asked.

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

“But can you do it” he asked, clearly full of doubt.

They were in the bed of the truck I'd be turning around. I knew the extra eyes and pressure wouldn't help me out.

“I can do it. It'd probably be faster if someone else flipped it,” I added, feeling on-the-spot.

“Kai, you go with her and turn it around,” Don said to him.

Don got in his truck to move to our next location.

I started walking around to the passenger side of the 450.

“Aren't you driving?” Kai asked.

“Don said for you to turn it around,” I said, not wanting to disobey Don's direction. So Kai drove.

He turned the trailer around at the pull out, and then I hopped into the driver's seat.

After the hour run of crack sealing, Kai hopped into the passenger seat.

“We can use the pullout after the cattle guard to turn around,” he said,”want to do it?”

Okay!

It was an easier place to turn around, and the backing came right back to me. I want to send the trailer right? I'll turn the wheel left.

There was no one else out here, and I did just fine.

Meanwhile the cone trucks were setting up the next run.

When we finished that run another hour later, we had to turn the trailer around back at the first spot. Less wiggle room.

I stayed in the driver's seat.

Kai hopped out to stop any potential oncoming traffic and direct me.

I had to pull forward twice and start backing again, but on the third try I threaded the needle and we were off. In doing so, I regained confidence. With Kai's patience and calm demeanor, I could take my time and concentrate.

The environment makes a difference.

In Don's rushed tone, when he'd asked with emphasis and doubt, but “can you DO it,” I'd felt insecure, judged, less than. He never treated the male seasonals this way, never asked them to verbally prove what they can do before jumping on equipment.

Here's another instance from that week:
I was on the tar wand, Scout was on squeegee, and every now and then the tar would stop coming out.

I'd squeeze harder. Sometimes it came out, sometimes it didn't.

“Is it always this hard to squeeze?” I wondered.

I had run the wand briefly two days earlier, and I hadn't remembered it being anything like this.

Holy crap I was using ALL my strength in my strongest arm just to pull the trigger.

We were only 15 minutes in, but I didn't think I could go a minute longer. Behind the tar pot it's loud, and we're constantly applying tar as Don drives the 450 forward.

Suddenly Don stopped the truck, so Scout asked about it. The wand temp was a bit low, maybe tar was getting stuck there. But it felt like a trigger problem to me.

It should be working right, is what was passed along. The truck started to move again, so we continued walking.

I got increasingly frustrated, unable to keep up as we normally could, going very slow, exhausted at the amount of strength it was taking to pull this freakin trigger.

Maybe I'm just really not as strong as it takes.

Is it just me? Isn't the tar not coming out? Tears were brimming.

Don stopped the rig again, but this time he got out of the truck and walked back to Scout and I.

He took the wand, fiddled with it, tapped it a bit on the ground, tested it out. When he squeezed, tar oozed out.

“Seems to be working just fine for me, could just be human error,” Don said, as he gave the wand back to me.

It could be – I'd been preparing for that situation – but I'd have to learn how to do it. I couldn't hold back the crew by never being able to work the wand all summer.

My throat was tight and I could feel tears – because I couldn't do what everyone else could. I couldn't do what was asked of me, and all I felt around me were doubts in my ability, not in the functionality of the trigger.

When Don started walking back to the front of the rig, I asked Scout to switch with me.

“Why?” he asked with doubt.

“Because I'm getting really frustrated!” I said, my voice cracking. “And let's see if you have issues with it.”

Scout started the wand and he flew. The tar came out perfectly. We were cruising at our usual pace again.

I tried to cool down, though the fact that both men had no issues with it was not helping.

A few minutes later we were stopped again while Don climbed into the truck bed to load more tar on the conveyor belt.

I checked in with Scout, “It's working fine for you?”

“Yeah,” he said.

How can this be a miracle, not a grievance? I wondered, thinking to my ACIM passages.

“Can we switch again?” I asked. He gave me the wand and I passed over the squeegee.

“You're gonna try again?” Don asked with doubt, when he saw me holding the wand.

I could see the fear of slowness in his mind, that we would never get this run done going at the pace when I'd last been on the wand.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Oh-kay…” he said, with that tone, eyebrows up.

I pulled the trigger… and tar came out after the lightest pull! I could move fast like the other day! Of COURSE I could do this!

There had absolutely been something up with the trigger/safety, and when Don had messed with it and felt no issue, that must have resolved it. I'd given the wand straight to Scout after that, meanwhile believing that it had been my error.

My lesson / my miracle? Don't doubt my inner knowing. I knew the trigger wasn't acting normal. I knew I had operated it days before without issue.

I should have stopped the rig and messed with the trigger right away, instead of wasting all of that arm strength and letting doubts fester.

May 31, 2021
I met a Navajo man, Cody, at Goodwill the other day. He was looking for a Bible, and I was browsing the books section.

He told me the doctors had said he'd never walk again, but through believing in God, he now walks with a cane.

He told me about high school at Coconino High, and how teachers would ask what he thought of various lessons – like Columbus.

“It's a bunch of baloney,” he said several times. He also talked of his deep family/community in the Navajo people.

“Do you white people have that?” he asked me.

“No, no we don't,” I replied, our interaction so spot on in the spiritual and personal work I'd been steeped in lately, noticing my desire to belong to a spiritual community, something strong and deep and lasting.

I continue to search and learn and explore the clues – like Threshold Choir and learning about Hopi through Kai, etc.

June 3, 2021
I'm feeling great – I felt excellent on Tuesday (after 4-day weekend), day before moon cycle, because I looked forward to work and laughed so much, felt safe, and not worried, not stressed. Had fun with Kai and Scout.

This afternoon after the pizza party, I got to help Kai with AC units. We went to Crater, Heiser, Pueblo, and to Pinyon. The drive (he drove) allowed for talking and it was great. I could talk openly and it seemed Kai could too. I don't feel I expressed myself completely (ie talked about maintenance learning goals but not spiritual, familial, etc.), but I said what came to me in the moment.

I'm really trying to watch myself - because I feel so drawn to his energy. I need to stay true and grounded in myself and not appease what I think he thinks is cool. Energy like this has done that to me (ie Kam, Lee). So I'm being aware while also enjoying and being grateful.

I felt like I could cry after the day, because of all the blessings: talking, being heard/seen, being shared with, being taught patiently and kindly, the opportunity to learn… we fixed my bedroom door and I learned a little how to check the AC units.

I'm trusting that I'll learn what I need to from this relationship – whether it's what I think I need to or not.

I've felt high-energy, activated since then and am hoping writing will help me to calm down. I couldn't read during dinner, so I watched the sun set. Now it's dark. Maybe I'll try a Tara Brach meditation.

June 5, 2021
I just read a passage in Lynn Andrews about power and self-limitations. I believe one of the lessons Kai is teaching me is about power. I noticed instantly the inclination to give up my own needs to soak up his energy.

It is not his knowledge/wisdom/presence that will “save me” (w/e that means). It's my faith in myself that will grow my power. So although I perceive I can learn lots, and I like how I feel in his energy, I must learn to create/emanate that safety and groundedness myself. I can still learn from him, and I am, but I cannot give my power away.

I don't know the zoomed out version or what roles we'll play for one another, but I can learn and grow from our relationship, that's certain.

I learned on Thursday not to “grass is greener” these folks, when Kai said he's sick of people telling him he's lucky to have a culture. It seems he sees it as a burden, something he's tied to without choosing. I have lots of questions and curiosities, but I'm trying to be patient and spread them out.

When he told the story of shopping at Home Depot w/ Don one year: Kai putting the boombox in the cart without saying anything.

Then at checkout, Don says “What's this?”

And Kai says, “It's my radio!”

Boom. End of discussion.

My first thought was, ‘I couldn't pull that off, especially with Don.’ Put in something that's not a project necessity, and buy it on the gov card?

Is it self-limitation or my true nature? Not having the confidence or not thinking it's honest?

Part of me really admires the rebellious nature / I-do-what-I-want energy. But I need to create this power myself. In the feminine way.

June 6, 2021
I've been thinking a lot about power. I think the past year has been about safety → not feeling safe at Deep Dome Lake, with dad – though not realizing consciously, having enough safety at Black Mountain such that I could dig deep and bare my flesh, my wounds, Story Mammaling, therapy-ing, and now that I feel safe in the Desert, with increasing energy as myself, I want to build power.

Power from having faith in myself. Knowing how to harness energy, store it, and change energy in those around me. I've been reading about it in Lynn Andrews's books. I'm not certain how to gain this skill, but meditation and sitting with my light will no doubt help. Sending light into the world. Grounding. Getting in touch with my energy body. All of this I can practice and strengthen. Then I have Sandra Ingerman's journeying book, Starhawk's Truth or Dare…

I haven't called Mom yet this weekend, and might need to transition to every-other-week calling, here on out. Suits my needs better. Even though I love her so much, our interactions tend to drain me as opposed to fill. I don't exactly know why this is, but my first inclination – rather than trying to change it - is to accept it and adjust frequency to something more sustainable to me.

Lynn has warned that when you bid for power, it will test you. So I'm also ready (or not!) to be challenged, tested, pushed beyond my self-imposed limitations to gain power. Perhaps that's what this winter/spring shedding was about. I wonder if Kai has any insights into my energy. I would love to sit with Victoria in Springdale – maybe a drive there is ahead for me, or meeting a shaman in the Desert. Perhaps Threshold community knows someone.

There are so many angels and helpers around me, I am in good hands. I am guided by the light. I am grateful to be alive, on this journey. I can go so much deeper, I know. I must deepen my devotion to build and deepen my power, they must go hand in hand. I've also read that I must see my gifts and abilities clearly to grow power, so for the rest of these 8 minutes I'll visit them.

June 10? Friday
Unslept night. I made it okay most of the day, though my right knee totally gave out after the second run with Camp, up to the 20mph zone by the Visitor's Center. We had lunch, Bill bought us ice cream, Joe's little boy came out in a tricycle, and then I drove the tar pot after lunch.

All good except for the flip at the end. I wasn't prepared for an active audience of 5+, with 3 people waving their arms, Jim waving and yelling things. My brain froze and I couldn't think logically about where to go, couldn't look in mirrors because I got distracted by Bobby and Jim. So I just kept doing hard left (and later learned I was supposed to do a hard right). I got activated, holding back tears while everyone was watching me impatiently.

At the end Don came up to the window and said “hard right,” and then I was able to make it. I'm getting re-activated just thinking about it. I cried as soon as I started driving down the road, away from the people. I tried to do “these are my legs” and zoom out, but I was so tired I'd cracked.

It feels so embarrassing because of Don's doubts on Day 1. “Can you turn it around?”

I want to be confident and have the ability to back the tar pot. I don't know why it pains me so much to have people think I'm bad at something. I was bad at backing, but I know I can learn it and I have done it well before, that's the thing. This one incident/time isn't representative of what I can do. But they'll all remember – and they knew I wasn't happy about it.

So at the loop, I trusted myself to go one way around the loop, then back it straight down the road. Except the road was slightly curved and that was throwing me off. After fits and starts, finally I just went for it, doing my mirror trick (the sun in right mirror sucked!)

Before that though, Kai came on the radio and said something encouraging like, “You got this Becca!” and I said “oh my godddd” (to myself in truck) and got really angry because I'd forgotten they were behind me and realized he and Don were both watching.

So I “turned them off” so to speak and then did it my way and got cheers. Ugh. Then the whole drive back I just wanted to break down crying but didn't have the space. My body was so activated – also tired. But fuck, I want to practice backing trailers. I replayed it over and over. I should have gotten a visual before I started, and told people to get out of sight. But I felt rushed and pressured. I watched like 4 episodes of Seinfeld before bed instead of just crashing. I woke up at 3 after several dreams.

June 12, 2021
I browsed therapists yesterday but no one jumped out.

I want to learn from a medicine woman, a healer, a shaman. And so I will continue reading books and sitting with the elements and feeding my spirit, building power and strength, telling myself of my strengths and truths and the facts of life I know deeply – not society's rules and illusions.

June 13, 2021
I was thinking more and more about Kai (!) and maybe part of why I'm drawn to him is that I haven't seen these qualities together before, with such alpha energy.

If I stop to pick up litter, I get made fun of or told it's not worth it. He does it while we're crack sealing, and no one questions.

It's authority, power. He is accepted, listened to, unquestioned.

Meanwhile all my actions are up on the chopping board for review. Remind Scout to put on eye pro? Backlash. Tell Don/Scout the wand isn't working? Get told it might be user error. Doubts! People seeing me as less-than because I have less physical strength and emotional “toughness.”

I'm a fucking warrior! I have strengths and powers that connect me with the web of life, with spirit, with emotion, with intuition. And it spreads love and wages peace. I have motherfucking patience and compassion for others. I'm a god damned HEALER. Shit, they have been using curses that degrade my feminine power, mf. I need to invent new curses pro-Earth, pro-mothers.

June 19, 2021
I did have feelings yesterday of how will I ever connect with people again, being deeply sensing. Ann talked of all the people she interacts with, etc, and when she asked what my plans were for the rest of the day, I felt so unseen, and wanted to scream THIS IS MORE SOCIAL TIME THAN I'LL HAVE IN A 2-WEEK PERIOD. System overload. I DON'T MAKE PLANS. The world affects me differently.

It makes me angry and unseen, like when I told Ricky his movie was too violent for me, and he said “it's not bad,” and I thought no, you're not understanding/listening– it's too violent for me. It affects me deeper. My throat is getting tight and my eyes are welling. I think this is my pain cycle activating - not feeling seen. Questions about form are SO HARD. I feel usually not understood in the way I mean things. That makes sense, because of course people will interpret words through their lens, but I don't know why that harms me so.

Also I had a thought this morning that since I feel deeply, I need more time and space (the zoom out) to see what's really happening. As in, being so drawn to Kevin/Kam/Kai, and over time watching it shift. As in, the first drops feel like a big splash to the left, when in the big picture we're moving to the right by a wave length. So, in the Book of Me, this means no rush, give things time to emerge. Patience. A slow reveal.

[ o o o ]

June 25, 2021
While painting with Scout yesterday, I noticed that I kept wondering if he hated the music, was he annoyed at my choice of what to work on, etc. Like, I realized my default thoughts were that I needed to adjust how I am to better please/ease him. WTF! What a waste of brain space and energy! And this is 32-year-old me who is wise and doesn't give a shit about a lot of things she used to.

So, my goal for the rest of the season is to remind myself, “Scout is chill, Scout is fine,” just be yourself. It's like the past has taught me my actions are seen as uncool, too safe, etc, and I want him to like me. Ugh. Just be me. I'm getting better with Kai, at least. A lot of the hold/power over has dissipated, much less inclination to please/be liked. Just be me. I still want to grow my power. I've learned and gotten so good at adapting to the systems and rules and energies around me, but have I ever witnessed/been taught to CREATE the space/energy/etc that those around me must follow? Let's try. Let's play.

…

What would I be like if I were surrounded by people who shared my beliefs strongly and confidently? That love is the way, the answer. That peace IS possible. That kindness DOES ripple out and spread love across life.

June 26, 2021
It's a lower-energy day. I woke up ~5:30am, ate pancakes, eventually got back in bed and deep-slept off and on until around 9:40! Then I watched a documentary in bed late-morning. … Three phone calls yesterday took a lot of energy. I'm still trying to figure out what I need and how I react to different stimuli and why. I want to get an HSP book from the library, I think. What will help me find more peace? Why do I need such long processing time? Is my deep-thinking over-thinking, or simply how my body sees and interprets the world?

June 27, 2021
I'll write before bed, maybe this will help me sleep better. I guess this was my second day mostly resting in bed. Definitely did not have energy to set up a zine table outside of the farmer's market when I woke up. Slept some more, then read. Lower energy day. I also felt (for first time in at least 2 months) feelings of despair, loneliness, feeling separate, unseen, not understood.. And then frustration for creating my own suffering.

I don't know how to connect with people – how to explain what I'm going through when I don't even know how to put it to words. Maybe I will look for a therapist here. Family still feels so muck and separate, and it's painful/draining to sit with. I haven't called Mom in a few weekends because I haven't wanted the drain.

It wasn't fun or pleasant to be with this alone/separate feeling all day, but it's variation. As long as things keep shifting, that it's not here to stay. It can feel hard to write the manual on yourself, learning by doing, when so many other things (and cultural ideas) are straightforward. Today I lost sight of my greatness and power, and instead saw myself alone, misunderstood, and not connecting deeply as my soul yearns.

I feel so different from a year ago. I haven't seen Elizabeth in two years. I'm feeling Ever's absence/distance. It seems I'm growing from Ellen. Am I too picky with people? Who will form my new foundation? The trees and the wind and the plants. They're always here.

Yesterday I decided on a whim to take off my long-sleeve uniform and just wear an NPS T-shirt, because of the Chief of Facilities's update at our Safety Meeting and because we were at the shop all day painting.

Not a half hour later, I'm mixing paint, and out of the blue Bill is there, at Pinyon! My t-shirt was the first thing I thought of. Fear. I wondered if he noticed. Would he say anything?

I thought of asking, “This is okay, right, to be wearing a t-shirt back here?” but I didn't.

No fear, no power-over.

Then I watched Ricky get called out by him for being on the edge of the roof without fall pro. Ricky said okay and got down. No big deal.

When Bill came back from the Moat Trail, I touched base with him and told him I definitely wanted to work there over the winter. He said they would need help, and to talk to him again late July. It depends on the budget.

Everything still feels more intense/deeper than previous life seasons. Emotions of others are strong. My shift in emotion (like Sunday when I felt alone and sad, or the crack sealing morning when I was Angry and couldn't find my water) - strong. It feels immediate, intense. The draw towards Kai – 2 months strong. So my tool is time. Patience. I need more time to zoom out and see what the overall feeling is, not act on a day or week's observations. I'm still learning what I need and how to communicate it.

July 4, 2021
I was going to set up a table outside of the farmer's market today, to sell my zines, but I started feeling sick yesterday and now it's a perfectly cloudy day w/ storms in the afternoon. Feels like a wonderful stay-at-home day. I had rough ideas to hang w/ Scout and Bobby, but we'll see where my energy levels are at. I could easily spend the day gleaming, closing loops, reading, and writing more letters on my typewriter.

July 6, 2021

[Something happened on this day that I couldn't write about for years and years. Even a mere thought would bring on physical sensations from that day, as if it were happening again. So I called it “Josie's Day” in the far corners of my mind, and stayed away. Five years later, I can finally tell it.]

The day prior, Scout had come over to my house (a first) because his good friend's mom had just died. A longtime family friend, a wonderful person. He was upset and wanted company, so he came over and talked for a few hours in the afternoon sun of the backyard. Then he left. He didn't sleep much that night.

On Tuesday morning, Kai is also exhausted--and since he drives an hour each morning just to get to work–I tell Scout and Kai that I'll drive them to Pinyon after safety circle.

Our weekly safety meeting feels a bit more relaxed, as Bill is out of state on a family vacation all week. Don is “acting supervisor” for the week.

In the office after the meeting, I offhandedly mention to Ricky that Kai and Scout are tired so I'm going to drive them instead of riding along in Ricky's truck. We are all going to the same place to paint.

Ricky's eyes widen. “You tell Kee what you just told me,” he said, so seriously.

Wait, what? Why is he concerned? I don't need to tell the work lead anything…

Ricky is clearly taken aback and visibly upset that I am going to drive the other two instead of ride along with him. I don't understand why. It's early morning. I'm also groggy.

I keep trying to get logged onto a computer. Kee says he is going to drop his work truck off at the mechanic and might need a ride. People mill in and out after the safety meeting.

I go out to check in with Ricky again, wanting to smooth over the really weird energy he'd just expressed, but not having much patience for it. His truck is gone.

So, Scout and I are with Kai. We check email. Kai has us hunt for fall pro, as he needs to check something at the water tower at Pinyon. We look in a few different locations, and end up finding what we need in the garage. There is no rush. He gives us some vegetables from his garden. Scout puts them in his seasonal house, right there, and I bring my bag into the work truck, to drop them at my house when we get to Pinyon.

And then we're off, a 30-minute drive from Canyon.

As I near town, Kai tells me to turn left at Josie's Diner. I hesitate. If I were by myself, I would have driven straight to Pinyon, but he's a WG-7, I'm a WG-5, so I do what he said.

Is this okay? To be going to a restaurant during work hours? I've only been here two months, I don't yet have a gauge on what's allowed. (And this isn't the sort of question I would flat-out ask Bill. I don't want to ruin it for anyone else, if it's a don't-ask-don't-tell situation.)

I know Kai and Scout had stopped here the other week, though. Scout had texted me “Come to Josie's!”

I had been riding along with Ricky that day, on highway 90, and had said aloud “What's Josie's? Scout says to come there.”

Ricky had turned off the highway into the diner parking lot. When I'd opened the truck door to hop out, he'd left the truck running. “Aren't you coming?” I asked.

“We have work to do,” he'd said, “I'm not going in.”

It had felt strange. Ricky, the one who takes hour-long lunches (we're only allotted 30 minutes), who stops at Safeway to buy a lunch in the mornings, and who takes care of personal business on work hours, was saying we have to get to work?

I'd climbed back in the truck, feeling ashamed I'd asked to stop. I didn't need to sit in a restaurant; I had my morning snack with me. And Ricky's energy was weird. So we'd continued on to Pinyon, while Scout and Kai were at Josie's.

Today, though, there isn't anyone watching. Bill is out of state. I still feel uneasy, but I suppose it could be our morning 15-min paid break (though we haven't really done anything yet today).

We go inside and sit down. Kai and Scout order something, I get a glass of water.

I remember that Kee was going to the mechanic, so I take my phone off of airplane mode and turn the sound on, just in case he needs a ride. I set it on the table.

I ask Kai questions: How does he do this? He's not concerned, when he makes breakfast in the mornings at work, about what Bill thinks? How often does he go to restaurants/gas stations during a work day?

I speak about power, share what I'm learning, and voice some curiosities towards this man who seems to have a lot of it. (What does it feel like? What would you say if Bill/Don said xyz?)

Then my phone rings.

I'm shocked to see it's Bill, our supervisor who is on vacation with his family.

“It's Bill,” I say aloud. “What do I do?”

My mind instantly flashes back to our 1-1 conversation the week prior, how I'd asked Bill if there's a way for me to keep working here after the summer season ends, and he'd told me about a 2-year trails position they'd received funding for.

“Don't answer it,” I hear Kai say in the background, but all of my attention is on this incoming call.

He must be following up about that job. If there's something I need to do now to apply for that position, I want to know. My legs have already stood up, I've grabbed the phone, and I'm moving outside so there won't be diner noise in the background.

“Hello?” I answer.

“I just got a call from Ricky saying…,” Bill says with irritation. He'd tried several people, but no one is answering.

Time stops.

Everything slows down.

My stomach has dropped.

I'm not in my body, I don't know what I'm saying.

At one point, Bill asks “What time did you leave Crater?” and I hold up my wrist in front of my face, stare at my teal digital watch, but I can’t make sense of the numbers.

I'm on the spot and I am frozen.

The traffic of the highway is buzzing in front of me, and behind me is Josie's Diner with the faded red sign. Where we are.

“You left an hour ago?! Where are you?” His voice is annoyed, demanding, wanting answers.

I cannot physically say the words “We're at Josie's Diner,” because I would have died. It already feels like I've died, but some protective response is keeping me from outing this information, at all costs.

My mouth says something truthful and vague, like “In service on highway 90.” I was in a place on highway 90, which is en route to Pinyon, where there happened to be phone service.

Then he asked about why I was driving Kai and Scout, that Ricky had told him they weren't fit to drive today, so he's concerned about safety.

No, no, no. That's not true at all!

I take a breath and am able to speak a bit more humanly, and also to get the attention off of Where Are You. “This isn't really mine to share, but Scout's dear friend died yesterday, so I knew he was grieving. I offered to drive them because I knew they were both tired, I didn't think there was anything wrong with that. They could both totally drive.”

I don't remember how the rest of the conversation went. Get to Pinyon. Don is there now, waiting for you all. Don't let this happen again.

I walk back in the restaurant white as a sheet, unable to process what had just happened.

My worst nightmare, true. Being caught somewhere we weren't supposed to be. Ratted out by Ricky! Why on earth would he call Bill, instead of voicing to Kee, or even Don who are actually here at work this week?!

Kai and Scout finish their food and onwards we go. They aren't concerned. Kai only makes their breakfast brief because he can see my distress. I climb in the back; I cannot drive.

They have to stop at Headquarters. I say nothing as they pull into the parking lot down the road, but my whole body is protesting: GetToPinyonNow. GetToPinyonNow. ThisIsNotOkay.

The nausea surges. Shame. Sensations of Death flood my body. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. Tears.

I stay quiet, ashamed and alarmed at all the emotion flooding my body, wanting to stay “in” with Scout/Kai. When Kai gets back in from his HQ errand, he says something encouraging, like “don't worry,” but those words can't even enter my sphere.

Ten minutes later we get to Pinyon.

Everyone's trucks are here, but it's so hot out, and we've already been delayed so long, I first run to put my bag of vegetables in the fridge at my house next door before running back and being the last to join everyone else behind the shop.

Don is there. Kee is there. We're all standing in a circle to talk about “what happened.”

Ricky spits fire with his words. His eyes have an evil energy that I've never seen before. He directs something at me.

I respond, shaky voice and tears I'm unable to hide. My eyes go down and to the left.

Don doesn't seem overly upset; he can see my tears. He makes sure it's known “Just be where you say you're going to be,” or something like that. “And when Bill is out of town and there's a safety concern, go to the Work Lead, then to me.”

Ricky isn't settled. It seems he has major issue with Kai. (History perhaps, being on crew together over 10 years?)

Kai isn't concerned at all, and is using his energy to diffuse the situation.

“Look, we're here,” Kai says calmly, hands down and open from his sides, taking up wide space, “where do you want us?” he says.

Ricky won't have it. He wants to pick a fight. It's like he needs to spew hurt on someone, and now he doesn't want to work with Kai.

I don't remember most of what's said, only that after the meeting, Kai and Scout get back in their truck to go work at Pueblo, an hour away.

My safe people, gone.

Don takes off. And I am left with Ricky and Kee. I don't think Kee has picked up on the nuances of all that's gone down, English being a second language and being hard of hearing at his age.

I could cry for a day, there is so much in me. And Ricky still has these intense eyes shooting poison at me.

Ricky, who has been driving me in his work truck each day for the last month and a half, who I've been asking things to and learning from. His energy has completely turned, out of nowhere.

“You disappointed me,” he says, pointing his finger at me. “You knew better,” he shames.

And my crying resumes, with the nausea still present. The word “cry” doesn't convey the powerful Sensations-of-Death clawing me.

I cannot just start painting together. I'm so upset and don't understand why the fuck he called Bill on us. It doesn't make any logical sense. Why would anyone do that? What could he have said to Bill?

I try to talk to him.

“We need to work now, that's enough” he says, cutting me off. Zero resolution in my body.

And so I paint next to Kee and Ricky, making no small talk, Sensations of Death consuming me. In the afternoon we go to Home Depot, and I go to the bathrooms because I think I'm going to throw up.

It's a beyond terrible day. I still have no appetite. At home I'm finally able to cry and cry – muting with a pillow when Marshall comes home. I replay the day, picking apart every detail.

If only I hadn't turned on my phone in the diner! I'm usually in airplane mode because we have no phone service at Crater. But no, the Good Worker heard the detail about Kee going to the mechanic and just had to take on that responsibility (even though no one asked me to).

If only I hadn't answered the phone when it rang! That hadn't felt like an option; I had no reason ignore the call, I wanted to be dependable and genuinely thought he could only be calling about the job.

I want to take it back so badly. Edit, undo. Edit, undo. Please let me start the day over, what I would give to start the day over.

Now Bill could find out. You lied. You lied. You lied.

What if Bill had asked to talk to Kai? Would I have walked into the diner? I'd have to account for the time difference, walking back inside the building. Did he think I was driving as I picked up the phone? That we were all in the truck together? Could he sense my panic and the indirect answer when he'd asked “Where are you?”

You were at Josie's. You were at Josie's. You were at Josie's.

I replay the phone call over and over, body still deep-crying, searching for every place I'd slipped up, every hole that might expose me.

Did I pause too long after his questions?

Did my voice sound as panicked as I felt?

Did he hear traffic? Did he know I was hiding something?

I cannot sleep. My body is convinced Bill will find out we were at Josie's, that I was the one who had driven us there, and I hadn't told the truth on the phone. I've filled so many handkerchiefs with snot.

Josie's. Josie's. Josie's. During work!

The terrible loop continues all night. There is no “me” who could think about a Story Mammal tool to implement. Ever since answering that call outside of Josie's, my body has been overtaken by an intense hell.

After hardly sleeping, I wake up the next morning still nauseous and beyond exhausted, puffy puffy red eyes. It wasn't a nightmare.

Oh god, it really happened. Oh no, oh no.

I'd rather be anywhere else but here.

I consider calling in “sick,” but I don't know if I even have 10 hours of sick-leave for the day, plus there's the discomfort of texting Don. (What would I even say?)

Tears continuing to fall, I put on my uniform and go to work.

---

[ o o o ]