Team Building
Title: Team Building
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: HBAMF (implied)
Warnings: Shameless self insertion
Summary: The team signs up for some team building exercises at a small camp.
---
Bus! The voice in my head shouted when I heard the motor. I immediately corrected myself. This wan’t a group of school kids pulling in for a week of fun and games. The vehicle sounded big, but certainly not a cheese wagon. Remembering to lock the office, I was the only one in on the Saturday, I walked to the parking lot and waited.
And it was a big vehicle. Big and distinctive. I nodded appreciatively at the custom paint. Retro. In a modern cool kind of way. Nice.
I reviewed what I was told about this group. Four men. Some kind of small company, service or product unknown. They had booked one day of team building. No limiting medical conditions. Not much else. Our usual work was with kids, but it wasn’t uncommon for business groups to book. Especially small ones. Its a small camp, nothing flashy. Affordable.
The first guy bounced out. Really. Like Tigger. It was hard to get any real focus, just an impression of gaudy shirt and wild hair. He was immediately followed by sleek and handsome. I blinked. Gorgeous actually. Broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips, blue eyes, wavy hair. A thin slice of belly showed under his hem when he stretched. I swallowed and reminded myself to be professional. Didn’t get much time to recover though when the passenger door opened and really tall guy climbed out. Muscular, but more lean and rangy than buff. No lack of power though, he moved with a sense of controlled strength. My mouth went dry watching a big hand reach out and slap the dark shoulder of the driver. How did I not notice him getting out of the van? There was so much to notice. Guns to die for.
“Hah, ahem, Hi! Welcome to camp.” I smiled and held out my hand. The tall one took it. The leader then. I held his grey gaze while my hand was engulfed and pumped firmly.
“Thanks. Good to be here. You must be Ms Lin?”
“Thats right, but call me…”
“Oooh, do you have a camp name? Like Meat Balls? I love Bill Murray. So are you like Radar, or Booger or…”
“Its Mully.”
They all stared at me. The jumpy one cocked his head like a dog.
“Its short for Mulligan. I redo things until I like them.”
“Like golf strokes?”
“More like policies and procedures.”
“Not a golfer then?”
“Afraid not, out of my pay scale.”
“Well, I’m Hannibal, this is BA,” my hand was engulfed again, but gently by the big driver, “Murdock,” bouncy guy smiled shyly from under his bangs shook quickly, “and Face.” My hand was kissed as he murmured enchante. From anybody else it would have seemed hokey, but I had to repress a shiver. The suaveness of it all was kind of ruined when he hollered at Murdock for pinching him
“We kind of have camp names too.” Hannibal sighed and grimaced at the two men having a pinching fight beside him.
“Didn’t get them from playing at no camp.” The mohawked man, BA, mumbled to himself.
I couldn’t decide if this was going to be just like leading a group of ten year old boys, or drastically different.
---
“Do you need to use the washroom? The toilets are over there. I put on some coffee in the kitchen if you want it.” I gestured, indicating directions. Getting started was always the hard part.
“I gotta go Bossman.” And Murdock skipped off . Face smiled sweetly my way. My knees buckled a bit.
“I could go for that coffee. You wouldn’t happen to have any milk in that kitchen would you?”
“I’m sure I can find some.”
“And, is there a smoking area available?”
“Well, this is a kids camp, we’re not really supposed to…”
“But there aren’t any kids here right now?” I shook my head, “And actually nobody at all to notice?” I nodded. He stepped closer and I could feel the magnetic pull of that perfect body. I couldn’t shake the memory of a touchable crescent of belly. Tanned, tanned all the way down into the waist of those artfully faded jeans. I turned my mind from wondering exactly how far down that tan went.
“Well, as long as there’s not butts left behind…” I realized I was speaking only after the words were already said.
He extended a hand and flicked a lighter without missing a beat in the conversation.
“Thanks hon, he gets real grouchy when he can’t get his fix. Hard to focus on team building when that happens.”
“Of course.” I shook my head trying to clear the confusion of arousal and indignation. What had I just agreed to? And why?
“Okay big guy, lets get some beverages before we start.” Face slapped BA on the shoulder and walked toward the kitchen. I followed, totally not checking out their asses. Not on purpose anyway.
BA accepted a glass of milk. Face sipped his coffee once before pouring it down the drain. He tried to be subtle, but I saw. Soon enough everybody had taken in or released enough fluids to be happy. Standing on the playing field I found myself the awkward fifth wheel.
---
“Obviously we can skip the name games. You guys have been working together for a while?”
“Over fifteen years.” Hannibal said.
“Well, we’ll start with something fun, to loosen up.” I led the group to a double line of pylons and pulled out two blindfolds. “You’re going to break into partners and be on opposing teams. Each team will have one bopper and one leader. The bopper is blindfolded. Its up to the leader to guide the bopper with his voice only to the pool noodle. Then first bopper to hit the opposing team’s bopper wins.” A hint of a smile played on BA’s lips when I said ‘hit’.
The game is usually played with a bigger group, but it still seemed like a good choice. Competition was always a good motivator with guys and things could get a bit silly. All the better for breaking down inhibitions.
“So, Murdock and BA, you two can be a team, Hannibal and Face you two be a team.” I guided them tho the lines of pylons that formed a corridor. The boppers could travel down the corridor, but the leaders needed to stay to the sides. Taking out a blindfold I reached to wrap it around Murdock’s head.
He grabbed my wrist in a sudden quick motion and twisted his body to face me. I froze, arm twisted to just the edge of being painful.
“Ah, sorry there Mully, but y’all caught me a bit by surprise.”
Before I could apologize BA was prying Murdock’s fingers off my wrist. “I’ll go first.” he grunted. Murdock shuffled off to the side.
“Sure thing.” I wrapped and tied the blindfold, absently wished everybody that I blindfolded had such a convenient hair cut. Hannibal had already blindfolded Face and moved to his side of the pylons.
“Now, Hannibal, your team needs to use the green noodle, and Murdock, your team will use the blue noodle.” I dropped the noodles twenty yards of so away. “But before they can pick up the noodles, each bopper must do what I demonstrate now.”
“Thats not fair. You didn’t say anything about doing stuff. You’re going to make me do something silly.”
“Shut-up kid.”
My head snapped up instantly. “I’m sorry, there can’t be any put-downs like that here. Only supportive comments.”
“He’s being a princess.”
“And gender stereo-typing isn’t welcome either.” A snorted laugh made me turn. Murdock covered his mouth, BA avoided my eyes. Damn, they’re laughing at me. I could feel my face flushing red. Working with adults was such a bitch, children were so much easier to intimidate.
“All right. I’ll amend my comments. Can we get to the hitting part now?” Hannibal asked.
He did look contrite. Its not like I don’t know a joke when I hear it. And it would be easy to give in and let them joke around. But that would lead to more negative comments and using ridicule to defend against vulnerability. And, well, vulnerability was part of the process.
“Okay. Before the bopper can pick up the noodle, he must do the following.” I walked the length of the pylon corridor, stopped halfway and picked up a rubber chicken. I waved it three times around above my head, dropped it, circled a pylon and then walked to the noodle. “After that, he can pick up the noodle.”
“You better steer me right crazy.” I nearly stopped the whole thing again at that, but nobody seemed to even notice the insult. We were at risk of stalling out already and had to build up some momentum so I decided to ignore it and yelled. “Go!”
---
“Straight ten paces!”
“Run Face, now stop”
“Pick it up!”
“What?”
“At your feet!”
“The chicken BA, not the cone.”
“Around your head three times kid. Faster.”
“Now do a little dance BA, shake your hips a bit.”
“How come Hannibal isn’t telling Face to dance?”
“To your right kid…other right!”
“Make a circle BA, around like dosey-doe.”
“Reach down and find the pylon, now go around it.”
“Why didn’t you say that Murdock?”
“Straight, straight!”
“Grab the noodle!”
“Swing!!”
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK….
It went on for a full two minutes before my shouting could be heard over the yelling. I hadn’t realized it was possible to raise a bruise with a pool noodle. I was about to apologize for letting them hurt each other when I looked over at Hannibal. He was bent double hands on his knees wheezing. With laughter. Murdock had fallen to the grass and was gasping into the ground. Even the combatants were laughing, reaching out blindly for each other and leaning. My heart started to settle to something like a normal rhythm. This was good?
I collected the blindfolds from the two men and looked around.
Hannibal eyed Murdock nervously. I flicked my gaze between the two men. Why was the bigger man with longer reach looking uncomfortable? Murdock smiled a little half grin that crinkled his eyes up. It would have been adorable, if he didn’t look so feral.
Hannibal blindfolded Murdock, whispering something in his ear. Then he leaned down and let me twist the bit of fabric around his head.
“What do they need to do?” BA asked, examining the course carefully.
“Make it something really good.” Face prompted.
I sighed, pausing to think. It had to be trickier than before, now that they were onto the system. But it couldn’t really be sillier or else the men might feel targeted. I walked the length of the corridor again, weaving through pylons and stopping at the last one. I put it on my head like a hat and spun around three times. Then I gestured for silence and picked up the noodles moving them back down the corridor to the starting line and throwing them well behind the boppers.
“GO!”
I covered my ears against the noise immediately. Nobody bothered with silly dances this time. Face’s instructions were enthusiastic, but not as accurate as Hannibal’s had been. The older man was responsive though, and seemed to understand even the most garbled instructions. But Murdock was like a guided missile. BA shouted measurements and directions and what sounded like grid coordinates in an even clear voice. Murdock sprinted the entire course and spun madly with the pylon. He staggered for a moment after, but quickly oriented himself and dashed for the noodle.
“Boss, he’s gonna beat you! Coming to your right, time to sweep the floor.”
I watched in horror as Hannibal dropped and slid across the grass throwing his legs out wide, right in the path of Murdock. Everything slowed, I cringed in anticipation of the coming face-plant.
“Jump fool!” BA’s voice reverberated, made deeper by the slowing of time.
Without hesitation Murdock leapt impossibly high in the air clearing Hannibal completely. He was about to make a perfect three point landing when an arm waved up from the ground in a blind grasping search. Making contact, Hannibal’s hand clamped around Murdock’s ankle. Murdock crashed to ground, Hannibal rose and cocked his head in question.
“Two side steps to your right Hannibal, then straight ahead.” Face called out. Hannibal nodded and followed instructions exactly, dragging a struggling Murdock along with him.
I remembered to close my mouth at that point. What the hell was happening? Stupid grown men, you think they would know better. With students ‘hands off’ had always been an understood rule. I shook my head in despair waiting for the protests and complaints. But nobody called foul. Murdock twisted madly, yelling in another language. How was it that you can always tell that its swear words even when you can’t understand whats being said? BA scolded from the sideline and Face cackled, but they all seemed to accept tripping, grabbing and dragging as fair play.
Murdock finally managed to squirm free, but Hannibal had gotten to his pylon already and whirled like a dervish. After that it was a flat out sprint to the noodles. Hannibal showed absolutely no effects of spinning and made a straight line. Murdock was quicker and pulled ahead by, well, a head. Sensing his defeat, Hannibal dove for his noodle, Murdock grabbed his and swung madly, missing the other man’s face by a fraction of an inch. Prompted by BA’s cry of “Lower crazy!”, he swung down, like someone killing a snake.
Hannibal swung up at the same time and the noodles met with a loud thwack. Bits of colourful foam flew. They fenced, Hannibal seeming to sense where his opponent was striking. Finally Murdock pressed his advantage and knelt on Hannibal’s chest whacking him about the legs and belly crowing in victory.
Huffing heavily, both men lifted their blindfolds and grinned at each other. Murdock gave the taller man a hand up. Clasping his hands together, Murdock bowed formally, bending at the waist. Hannibal followed suit with sincere gravitas.
“Is, um, is everybody okay?” I asked.
Murdock patted me on the shoulder, waving his weapon in the air.
“Sorry about your noodle’s Mully, we kinda shredded them.”
“Don’t worry about the noodles, are you okay?”
Murdock waved his hand dismissively and turned to fist bump BA.
“Hannibal, why did you let go?” Face teased slapping Hannibal’s back.
“He’s like a greased pig!”
“You can grease my pork any day Hannibal!”
I blinked. Several times. Greasy, slick, naked…
“Ahem.”
ummm… what? Where were we? Ah yes, being professional.
Face was holding out a folded bill. “For the noodles.” He explained. I nodded and pocketed the money. The men looked at me expectantly.
“If by some miracle nobody is hurt, maybe we should move on to something else?”
I needed to get them away from any activity involving noodles or competition as fast as possible. Before someone decided they needed a tie breaker. “Something involving cooperation maybe.” I led the group to a shady patch of grass and had them settle in a square. Beside each man I placed an empty bowl. Into the centre I put a tub full of marbles.
“The objective is to get as many marbles into your bowl as possible.”
“Aint no cooperations there.” That little grin played at the corners of BA’s lips again.
“The caveat is that you can only use the spoon I give you.” I handed each man a spool that had been attached to a four foot piece of dowel. “You cannot take the spoon off the stick, you cannot move your bowl nor the tub of marbles and you cannot move from where you are seated.” Rules delivered, I walked away.
BA immediately scooped a marble with his spoon and stretched his arm out as far as possible and twisted his wrist to bring the spoon to his bowl. He shifted his grip, leaned and turned, but there was no way he could manoeuvre the long handled spoon to his own bowl. He muttered darkly under his breath.
Face and Murdock meanwhile were trying to pick each other’s noses with the spoons. It was quickly turning into another fencing match.
“And no hitting!” I blurted with images of a lost eye rolling through my head. Both men ducked their heads sheepishly.
BA had resorted to tossing marbles into the air trying to lob them toward his bowl. He managed to hit himself several times, which was quite impressive because it is a difficult task. He was getting closer than anyone I had even seen, but couldn’t manage to land one in his bowl.
Hearing giggles I growled, “Face, Murdock…” I didn’t need to see them to know that they were batting each other with the spoons again. I did, however, turn when I heard the tink of glass hitting ceramic. There was one marble in BA’s bowl.
Hannibal smirked.
BA smiled and chuffed, “Looks like I win.” He crossed his arms. Hannibal narrowed his eyes. He lifted his spoon again and scooped a marble, then stretched (a bit) to drop it into Face’s bowl. He repeated for Murdock. Everybody had one marble except him.
“Looks like we win and Hannibal looses.” Face crowed.
Tink.
Murdock moved his spoon away from Hannibal’s bowl. One all.
Hannibal nodded and placed a marble in Murdock’s bowl. This is better. They were starting to understand. Helping others is helping yourself. Reciprocity, giving and receiving.
Tink. Tink.
Murdock and BA put marbles in each other’s bowls. Two all.
Tink… Tink… Tink-tink-tink-tink tinktinktinktink…
They caught on fast, no doubt. The spoons moved in surprising concert. I watched the blur of metal and aggies in the middle of the square. Bowls were filling and tub emptying. Not a dropped marble to be seen.
As quickly as it began, the spooning ended. A quick tally showed me four equal piles of marbles in four bowls. One marble left in the tub.
Damn.
I always count the marbles, always make sure there is a way for the game to end fairly. Damn extra marble, it blows the whole thing. I scanned the ground to see if there were marbles that had been dropped and forgotten.
CRASH…tinkle. I jumped at the sound of broken glass.
Murdock looked sheepish. His long handled spoon was poised in the air, pointing over his shoulder. Follow-through position after a catapult procedure. No more problem marble.
“We’ll pay for that.” Hannibal sighed. BA rolled his eyes. Face reached for his wallet. Again.
I waved my hand at the offer of cash.
“Why don’t we just run a tab?” I suggested.
Face replaced the wallet and diligently noted the broken lightbulb in a small notebook.
I smiled and the anxious expressions. “Its unconventional, but I like the way you think Murdock.” Expressions changed to surprise. “What was the point of this exercise?”
“Encouraging good spoon dexterity?” Face joked. I shook my head.
“Making people forge alliances.”
“Closer.” I commended BA. But he was still thinking in an win-lose paradigm.
“Reciprocity.” Hannibal said, looking at me closely from the corner of his eye.
“Partly.”
“Being dependent.” Murdock ventured. He looked around the circle cautiously. I nodded, encouraging. He took a breath. “You’re dependent on others in the game. You can’t help yourself.”
“Except by helping them first.” BA said nodding.
“It can turn into a battle of alliances. Pairs of people taking on the others competitively, even stealing from their bowls. I think its interesting that in the end, you all ended up with the same number of marbles.”
I watched their eyes flick from bowl to bowl.
“And the extra marble?” Hannibal questioned. He thought I had set them up.
“A mistake actually, I miscounted. But Murdock overcame that.” They squirmed on the ground. Nobody would even meet the eyes of another. I mentally shook my head as the momentum of the group started to nose dive. Time for something more physical then.
“Okay, everybody up. I think you’re ready for the big kid activities.” I led the group to the nearest picnic table. “Before we begin, I want to review spotting position.”
“Spotting?” Face furrowed.
“Supporting your teammates to prevent injury during a higher risk activity.” He nodded. “Okay, I want you all to stand as if you were going to fight someonnnnnah…”
I stepped back instinctively. There was a wall of loose fists and grim expressions facing me. There was none of the self-conscious joking I usually see from the participants. Each man was deadly serious. Deadly. Serious.
“Good, good, you seem to understand this. Now, open your hands.” They complied, expressions opening at the same time. I breathed a little easier. “This is spotting position, you have a wide base, your hands are ready to support a falling teammate. Sometimes you will need to hold your hands flat,” I demonstrated with my hands out as if cradling a baby, “to support someone in a horizontal position.”
The men all nodded. I pointed to the picnic table. “Someone will stand on the bench and fall backward into the arms of the others. You must communicate clearly by asking “Ready to catch” the catchers respond “Ready.” then you say “Falling” and only then let yourself fall back.”
“Oh, oh, oh, can I go first!” Murdock waved his hand in the air. I repressed a smirk.
“Sure, just wait while I get the team ready.” I arranged their arms overlapping in a zipper pattern. I joined the group to make it enough people. Four catchers was the bare minimum, but something suggested to me that these men could manage catching more weight than the average student.
They all immediately took the correct position without being prompted, legs one in front of the other, shoulder width apart, arms out. Murdock climbed onto the bench and turned his back.
“Ready to catch?”
“Ready fool.” “Ready.” “Good to go buddy.”
“Falling.” And he did, without hesitation. The catchers held with little effort.
“Feet first!” I reminded them as they lowered the man and stood him up.
“That was fun guys.” He gushed and skipped around to the side. “You go next BA!”
BA crossed his arms and scowled. He didn’t say anything with his voice, but everything else about him communicated ‘no’ very clearly. Until his sweeping gaze met Hannibal’s. Grey and brown met in unblinking struggle for several breaths. Neither man moved a muscle. They wrestled more intensely than any one of them had physically battled in the great noodle war.
“I’ve fallen from three stories with nobody to catch me. This is silly.” BA growled.
“Lets kick it up a notch then BA, what do you think?” Hannibal patted the top of the picnic table.
The big man blinked with slow disdain.
I jerked my attention away from the two men when I heard the thunk of wood on wood.
“Two tables BA.” Murdock crowed after he and Face settled the second picnic table on top of the first. The table top was at my shoulder. He turned, looked over and sneered. With shocking speed a third table was added. I looked up and panicked.
“This is not actually, technically, allowed. Seriously, its in the policies and procedures.” I protested, visions of spinals and ambulances filling my mind.
Hannibal walked to my side and leaned down. Damn he was tall. “We can manage it, and I think it would be an important step.”
I looked from the table tower to Hannibal’s confident expression and back several times. He nodded confidently. “Yessir.” I responded. Did I just say that out loud? Sir???
Hannibal jerked his chin toward the tower and BA climbed the table seats like a giant’s ladder. I had never seen a reluctant participant persuaded to fall by increasing the risk. These men were unlike any corporate lackeys I had ever met.
“Ready.” BA grunted. We scrambled into position. He didn’t wait for our response and huffed “Falling.” tilting back at the same time. It was that moment that I really contemplated the figure of this unusual man. He was thick and solid beyond anyone I had ever worked with. Images of oxen and Clydesdales and rhinoceroses passed before my eyes. He wasn’t puffed up, just very, very solid. And hard. And heavy. And plummeting like a stone toward the ground.
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, arms held out more for the look of it than any conviction I could make a difference.
A quiet huff informed me that he had been caught. I opened my eyes a slit and peeked out.
“Christ Boscoe, have you put on weight?” “Was it like flying? I’m so jealous you got to use three tables!” “Thank-you Corporal.”
Corporal? A military title, but spoken so gently. Something twitched in me, pulling a resonant chord that I felt in my chest.
“Face is next! Face is next!”
Without hesitation Face, then Hannibal, then Murdock because he insisted on trying from that ridiculous, completely unsafe height, all climbed and fell. Nobody was dropped. I offered up a prayer of thanks and turned to walk away.
“Your turn Mully.”
I stopped in mid-step. Sure, I’ve done all the things that I ask of the participants. It was part of my philosophy, never asking others to do something I’m not willing to try. But this was completely out of the usual range. And I hadn’t asked, it was Face and Murdock that build the tower of inevitable spinal injury and Hannibal that had initiated the whole ‘kick it up a notch’ mentality.
If any of those men had said it, I would have laughed it off. But it was BA. He had scowled through the whole process. First he had seemed to feel singled out, then resentful that everybody else went without fuss. His even tone was a test, not a joke.
“That won’t be necessary BA.” Hannibal’s voice was calm and placating. He was defending me against the challenge, protecting me from having to back out from fear.
Hell I needed protecting.
“Okay.” I said and started climbing.
Getting up was easy. I was looking up, didn’t realize just how high the table top was. When I stood on the edge though, there was no ignoring it. BA had missed a spot on his last shave, I could see a patch of stubble.
“OK up there darling?”
My mouth was dry, but I nodded. Turning my back to the group I set my heels on the edge of the wood. I did the mental math. There was over half a ton of muscle waiting to catch me.
“Ready to catch.” I croaked.
No jokes this time, a reassuring chorus of readies.
“Falling.”
And I was. Then, not.
I was suspended. Gently.
Like the best five star hotel bed ever. Better. I sighed.
“Comfy?” I could hear Face smirk.
“Feet first lads.”
And I was stood up. A little flushed, but I tugged my shirt down and cleared my throat. Still professional. I hoped.
“Well, physical trust doesn’t seem to be much of a challenge for you then.”
“We have some experience with it, yes.” Hannibal clapped a hand on my shoulder. I staggered.
“Lets try something a little different then.” I led the group into the woods, to a rope swing. At one side was an empty cooking pot. At the other side was a bin full of vegetables. Ropes defined a space in between. “We’re going to make soup.”
“What kind of soup?”
I tossed a smooth rock into the pot. It clanged sharply. “Stone soup.”
“Not even crazy can make a stone taste good.”
“Oh no, stone soup is always the best soup.” I countered.
“High in minerals I’m sure.” Face said.
“Well, it is better if people add a little something.”
“We don’t have nothing to make soup with.” BA shook his head.
“I’m going to let you use those vegetables. You can each swing over on the rope and choose a vegetable. But, you can only bring it back if one of your teammates names the vegetable. Not its vegetable name, this is all about symbols. The vegetable you bring back is going to represent something that you contribute to your team. Something that makes it successful. You’ve proved in all the activities up to now that you are a very successful team, now I want you to give some thought to why.”
BA flexed his fist. I heard knuckles crack. “And that something, it cannot be a physical characteristic. It must be a behaviour or a character trait. You can each name one trait for each teammate. The more vegetables, the better the soup.”
I backed away to watch. The men shuffled. Murdock stuck his hands into his pockets. BA crossed his arms again. Face pouted. They all looked at Hannibal. I leaned against a tree. I could wait.
It amazed me. These men were willing to plummet from eight feet in the air into each other’s arms. But not a one was willing to say out loud what they admired in each other. They were more scared of talking about feelings than risking death.
Hannibal’s shoulders looked like they were going to merge into his ears. My neck hurt looking at how tense he was. I contemplated sitting. Just to send the message that I was willing to wait all day.
“Hannibal is a good leader.” Face gestured broadly in Hannibal’s general direction. “He can go get some vegetable to represent leadership.”
Hannibal sighed and gripped the rope.
I raised a hand. They stopped. I allowed myself exactly one second of self congratulation before speaking, “Leadership is too general. I want you to name something specific that makes him a good leader.”
I almost withered when Face squinted in anger at me. “Henhsrspct.”
“I’m sorry Murdock, I didn’t catch all of that.” Or any of it really. He was mumbling into his chest.
“He has respect. For me. For all of us. But, nobody treated me with the kinda respect he does.” Something passed between them, an acknowledgement of a shared experience. “And he does it for everybody. For all of us, but for everybody we meet too. Sometimes we work with people who are, kinda hard up, having difficulties and he never talks down and he always listens.”
I nodded remembering that he addressed me as Ms Lin when we first met. The corporate guys, they often treated me like the hired help, but Hannibal had spoken to me like an equal from the start.
I watched him grab the rope and swing over with easy grace. He chose a potato, swung back and placed it in the pot.
The tension eased a bit. First time is the hardest. Face smiled at Murdock (lucky guy) and stepped toward him.
“Murdock has the best sense of humour.” Face slung an arm over Murdock’s shoulder and gestured with his other hand. “He can lighten the mood anytime. And we’ve been in some rough situations when we could’ve just given up. When I had given up. But he made me laugh and that made it possible to go on. And he does it without hurting anybody, its not mean humour. Its just, good.”
“Except maybe for el Diablo.”
“Yeah, but she really deserves it.”
And they were giggling, making some kind of harmony together. Hannibal smiled and even BA seemed to be scowling less.
Murdock hollered like Tarzan as he swung over and brought back a deformed carrot.
“BA is dependable.” Face punched BA on the shoulder. “That sounds boring, but if you knew all the crazy stuff that we do, its really amazing. I mean, we all get caught up in our own stuff, screwing around with ideas or women or crazy, but Bosco is always thinking about the team and doing what needs to be done. There’s not much that we can depend on these days, so knowing that he’s there, steady like. Its kind of a really big deal.”
BA stood still for a couple of heart beats. Long enough that I started to panic thinking that this whole thing was too much for him to handle. His stoic denial of feelings would kick in and, that big, stubborn BA was going to just bail. Instead he turned on a heel and marched across to the tub of vegetables. He grabbed an onion, marched back and threw it into the pot.
Murdock threw his arms around BA’s shoulders. I noted that his hands didn’t meet at the back.
“Ahhhh, BA, you know that onions are my favourite.”
“Shut up crazy.” BA said.
Sweetly.
“Face is intelligent.”
The man in question snorted when Hannibal said that. “Shut-up kid.” Hannibal replied, and the tenderness in that phrase completely derailed my automatic response. Hannibal continued, “He is always thinking. Some people would say scheming, or plotting. But there is no denying that his remarkable brain is working all the time. And he’s damn good at it. Good ideas. Good details. Good vision.”
Face chose a stalk of celery.
A warm, full sense of satisfaction filled my chest. Everybody had been addressed. They had taken the exercise seriously and spoken with thought and care. I walked over to the pot, ready to go into my team as stone soup analogy by way of wrap up. The guys had done well, overcome some real inhibitions and I congratulated myself on a good day.
But the group didn’t seem to think they were done quite yet.
“Murdock is smart too.”
I looked up at BA. He kicked at the wood chips with a steel clad toe. But, his voice was clear. “He’s creative, thinks outside the box. Sometimes so far outside the box he’s in outer space, but he knows all about nearly everything. That deserves respect.”
BA was breathing hard. Murdock eyed him carefully and kind of edged around on his way to the tub. He picked out a tomato and put it in the pot. He didn’t hug him like before though, just crossed the circle and stood next to the big man.
“Face is caring. You’re a bit of a mother hen on occasion kid, but we all need that sometimes.” Face added a handful of pea pods.
“Hannibal is protective. You’re security in size thirteen boots boss.” Green beans.
“BA is patient. I take advantage of that a lot.”
“I shout threats at you all the time.”
“Yeah, but you hardly ever follow through.” Murdock grinned.
Everybody had abandoned the pretence of swinging, but they continued to carry vegetables over. When BA returned from fetching a head of broccoli he bumped shoulders with Murdock before standing still.
I moved my gaze between the four of them. They had started out more restrained and reticent than any other group I’d worked with. But they finished with some of the most sincere and heart felt communication I had ever heard.
“And, boss, you’re… well when we… I mean,” Face was looking at Hannibal, standing close. Hannibal had a hand around Face’s arm. I could barely hear, the aborted sentences got softer and softer till Face was leaning in as if to whisper in Hannibal’s ear.
I could see a private moment when it was happening right in front of me.
“I’ve forgotten something for the next step, you guys carry on and I’ll be right back.” I turned and walked quickly to the office.
Seeing Face leaning in close like that. If it had been another situation, it would have looked like the prelude to a kiss. I hummed a little imagining that.
Once in the office, I did grab a bag of bird seed. I counted to fifty and started walking back. When I turned the corner I stopped for a moment. Surprised and moved.
It might have been a football huddle. A tight circle of men, heads leaning together. But their arms were around waists not shoulders, hands settling on hips hips. Was BA cupping Face’s ass?
I stomped on a twig to announce my presence and kept my eyes on the path. When I got to the clearing, all four men had vegetables in hand and were dropping them into the overflowing pot.
“Well, its quite the collection you put together isn’t it?” Was that a little extra colour in Hannibal’s cheeks? Did Murdock’s lips look a little swollen?
I crouched by the pot of vegetables and continued. “A team is just a stone in a pot, until you add all the best bits of the team members. But, sometimes people are selfish, they want to hold on to their vegetables for themselves, keep their talents for their own benefit. But once your willing to risk, to venture and let others see you for who you are. Its possible to create something fantastic.”
It was a speech that I had used many times over. Mostly with high school kids, its a bit abstract for the little kids. But, I had never really meant it as much as I did this time. When I looked up, they were all nodding.
“And its good that you’re all so different.” I continued, “Imagine if you were all the same. If the only thing to be added to the soup was parsnips. It would be a bland soup, less satisfying and less nutritious. Less successful.”
I stood and drew the bag of bird seed from my pocket. “But its not all potatoes and carrots. We all have traits that we would like to change. Attitudes or behaviours that affect the team negatively.” I reached for Hannibal’s hand and turned it palm upward, dropping a sunflower seed into the centre. “Areas of growth. Seeds that we would like to plant and see blossom into new attitudes and behaviours.”
Each man got a seed.
“Think about something you would like to change. Something small is fine. Be as specific as possible. Make a promise to yourself to take action and plant the seed. As you watch it grow, keep track of your progress. You’ll have set backs, but be encouraged to keep trying.”
BA eyed me warily. His gaze flicked from the seed to me and back. “Are we supposed to tell you.”
“No. Of course not. Its personal.”
He nodded and leaned down to scratch in the ground and buried the seed.
“Wait, you should plant it at home, where you can watch it.”
“Thats not really possible for us right now Mully. If you don’t mind, I think we’d all be happy to plant them here.” Hannibal walked a few steps away and knelt in a patch of sun. The position of gardener seemed to fit him well.
The men milled about in the forest for a few minutes. My lip may have trembled a bit, watching them gravely pat dirt around their hopes. A siren interrupted my contemplation.
The team were on their feet and jogging in an instant. Murdock turning back to grab the pot then sprinting away. By the time I caught up them, they were in the van, engine idling. Hannibal leaned out the window.
“Thanks for everything Mully. It was just what we needed.”
“It was fun, glad to be of service.” I tried to not look confused and distressed.
He handed me an envelope, “Sorry to exit so quickly, here’s the fee. There’s some extra for the light bulb in there.”
We shook hands.
“I can’t really explain, but you’re going to be asked some questions soon. And, well, I wouldn’t ask you to lie, but the less specific you can be with your answers, the better it would be for us. Of course, its your choice entirely.”
I nodded, waving dust away as the van tore out of the gravel drive.
The agents found me counting marbles.
“Ma’am, we need you to answer some questions for us.”
“Yessir?” I looked between them. It was like cookie cutter men, all buzzed and clad in plain dark suits.
After introductions and the showing of badges and papers they got around to asking for details about the group of men.
“They were all about, um, average height….average build… yeah, all of them… oh they had darkish blonde hair, one was a little darker… no marks or scars… no tattoos… I would guess between 30 and 40 years old… its so hard to tell, I’m not an expert like those guys at the carnival, they always amazed me… why would I memorize a license plate number?… you’ll need to contact my boss about a contract… they paid in cash…”
It went on for some time, but when I made sounds about wanting a lawyer, they backed off.
I was left standing alone at camp. It seemed very empty at that moment.
---
“Mully, why are there three picnic tables stacked on top of each other?”
Monday morning. My boss squinted at the playing field and the tower of inevitable spinal injury.
“Um…”
“If I didn’t know better I would say that it was summer and those teenage counsellors were doing extreme trust falls again. But thats against policy now.”
“Um…”
“The cooks are asking about the big cooking pot, have you seen it? And did you know that the porch light was broken?”
“Um…”
“Its the kids from down the road, damn hooligans. I’m thinking about hiring a security guard for the weekends when nobody is here. Last month somebody stole all the lazy lines from the high-ropes, remember that?”
I nodded, trying to recall if there was any other damage I couldn’t account for. Hopefully he wasn’t going to inventory the pool noodle supplies. Those kids did steal the lazy lines, I didn’t feel too guilty about letting my boss assume they had done the other stuff too.
“Anyway, we have a group of grade sixes coming in for the week, the usual stuff. Can you get maintenance to get those tables on the ground and replace the bulb?” He turned to go back in the office, but stopped and pointed to a box by the door.
“Almost forgot, you’ve got a package, arrived by courier this morning.”
It was a plain box. Large but light. Wrapped in brown paper. No return address.
Inside I found the kitchen’s pot, a bag of coffee, a picture and a note.
The soup was delicious. Hannibal made me return the pot. Face said your coffee sucks, hope this will last you a while. How long until the seed hatches? Thanks for a fun day - Murdock
The picture was of a small pot filled with soil sitting on the dash board of what might have been a big, black van.
If it was, I wouldn’t tell.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: HBAMF (implied)
Warnings: Shameless self insertion
Summary: The team signs up for some team building exercises at a small camp.
---
Bus! The voice in my head shouted when I heard the motor. I immediately corrected myself. This wan’t a group of school kids pulling in for a week of fun and games. The vehicle sounded big, but certainly not a cheese wagon. Remembering to lock the office, I was the only one in on the Saturday, I walked to the parking lot and waited.
And it was a big vehicle. Big and distinctive. I nodded appreciatively at the custom paint. Retro. In a modern cool kind of way. Nice.
I reviewed what I was told about this group. Four men. Some kind of small company, service or product unknown. They had booked one day of team building. No limiting medical conditions. Not much else. Our usual work was with kids, but it wasn’t uncommon for business groups to book. Especially small ones. Its a small camp, nothing flashy. Affordable.
The first guy bounced out. Really. Like Tigger. It was hard to get any real focus, just an impression of gaudy shirt and wild hair. He was immediately followed by sleek and handsome. I blinked. Gorgeous actually. Broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips, blue eyes, wavy hair. A thin slice of belly showed under his hem when he stretched. I swallowed and reminded myself to be professional. Didn’t get much time to recover though when the passenger door opened and really tall guy climbed out. Muscular, but more lean and rangy than buff. No lack of power though, he moved with a sense of controlled strength. My mouth went dry watching a big hand reach out and slap the dark shoulder of the driver. How did I not notice him getting out of the van? There was so much to notice. Guns to die for.
“Hah, ahem, Hi! Welcome to camp.” I smiled and held out my hand. The tall one took it. The leader then. I held his grey gaze while my hand was engulfed and pumped firmly.
“Thanks. Good to be here. You must be Ms Lin?”
“Thats right, but call me…”
“Oooh, do you have a camp name? Like Meat Balls? I love Bill Murray. So are you like Radar, or Booger or…”
“Its Mully.”
They all stared at me. The jumpy one cocked his head like a dog.
“Its short for Mulligan. I redo things until I like them.”
“Like golf strokes?”
“More like policies and procedures.”
“Not a golfer then?”
“Afraid not, out of my pay scale.”
“Well, I’m Hannibal, this is BA,” my hand was engulfed again, but gently by the big driver, “Murdock,” bouncy guy smiled shyly from under his bangs shook quickly, “and Face.” My hand was kissed as he murmured enchante. From anybody else it would have seemed hokey, but I had to repress a shiver. The suaveness of it all was kind of ruined when he hollered at Murdock for pinching him
“We kind of have camp names too.” Hannibal sighed and grimaced at the two men having a pinching fight beside him.
“Didn’t get them from playing at no camp.” The mohawked man, BA, mumbled to himself.
I couldn’t decide if this was going to be just like leading a group of ten year old boys, or drastically different.
---
“Do you need to use the washroom? The toilets are over there. I put on some coffee in the kitchen if you want it.” I gestured, indicating directions. Getting started was always the hard part.
“I gotta go Bossman.” And Murdock skipped off . Face smiled sweetly my way. My knees buckled a bit.
“I could go for that coffee. You wouldn’t happen to have any milk in that kitchen would you?”
“I’m sure I can find some.”
“And, is there a smoking area available?”
“Well, this is a kids camp, we’re not really supposed to…”
“But there aren’t any kids here right now?” I shook my head, “And actually nobody at all to notice?” I nodded. He stepped closer and I could feel the magnetic pull of that perfect body. I couldn’t shake the memory of a touchable crescent of belly. Tanned, tanned all the way down into the waist of those artfully faded jeans. I turned my mind from wondering exactly how far down that tan went.
“Well, as long as there’s not butts left behind…” I realized I was speaking only after the words were already said.
He extended a hand and flicked a lighter without missing a beat in the conversation.
“Thanks hon, he gets real grouchy when he can’t get his fix. Hard to focus on team building when that happens.”
“Of course.” I shook my head trying to clear the confusion of arousal and indignation. What had I just agreed to? And why?
“Okay big guy, lets get some beverages before we start.” Face slapped BA on the shoulder and walked toward the kitchen. I followed, totally not checking out their asses. Not on purpose anyway.
BA accepted a glass of milk. Face sipped his coffee once before pouring it down the drain. He tried to be subtle, but I saw. Soon enough everybody had taken in or released enough fluids to be happy. Standing on the playing field I found myself the awkward fifth wheel.
---
“Obviously we can skip the name games. You guys have been working together for a while?”
“Over fifteen years.” Hannibal said.
“Well, we’ll start with something fun, to loosen up.” I led the group to a double line of pylons and pulled out two blindfolds. “You’re going to break into partners and be on opposing teams. Each team will have one bopper and one leader. The bopper is blindfolded. Its up to the leader to guide the bopper with his voice only to the pool noodle. Then first bopper to hit the opposing team’s bopper wins.” A hint of a smile played on BA’s lips when I said ‘hit’.
The game is usually played with a bigger group, but it still seemed like a good choice. Competition was always a good motivator with guys and things could get a bit silly. All the better for breaking down inhibitions.
“So, Murdock and BA, you two can be a team, Hannibal and Face you two be a team.” I guided them tho the lines of pylons that formed a corridor. The boppers could travel down the corridor, but the leaders needed to stay to the sides. Taking out a blindfold I reached to wrap it around Murdock’s head.
He grabbed my wrist in a sudden quick motion and twisted his body to face me. I froze, arm twisted to just the edge of being painful.
“Ah, sorry there Mully, but y’all caught me a bit by surprise.”
Before I could apologize BA was prying Murdock’s fingers off my wrist. “I’ll go first.” he grunted. Murdock shuffled off to the side.
“Sure thing.” I wrapped and tied the blindfold, absently wished everybody that I blindfolded had such a convenient hair cut. Hannibal had already blindfolded Face and moved to his side of the pylons.
“Now, Hannibal, your team needs to use the green noodle, and Murdock, your team will use the blue noodle.” I dropped the noodles twenty yards of so away. “But before they can pick up the noodles, each bopper must do what I demonstrate now.”
“Thats not fair. You didn’t say anything about doing stuff. You’re going to make me do something silly.”
“Shut-up kid.”
My head snapped up instantly. “I’m sorry, there can’t be any put-downs like that here. Only supportive comments.”
“He’s being a princess.”
“And gender stereo-typing isn’t welcome either.” A snorted laugh made me turn. Murdock covered his mouth, BA avoided my eyes. Damn, they’re laughing at me. I could feel my face flushing red. Working with adults was such a bitch, children were so much easier to intimidate.
“All right. I’ll amend my comments. Can we get to the hitting part now?” Hannibal asked.
He did look contrite. Its not like I don’t know a joke when I hear it. And it would be easy to give in and let them joke around. But that would lead to more negative comments and using ridicule to defend against vulnerability. And, well, vulnerability was part of the process.
“Okay. Before the bopper can pick up the noodle, he must do the following.” I walked the length of the pylon corridor, stopped halfway and picked up a rubber chicken. I waved it three times around above my head, dropped it, circled a pylon and then walked to the noodle. “After that, he can pick up the noodle.”
“You better steer me right crazy.” I nearly stopped the whole thing again at that, but nobody seemed to even notice the insult. We were at risk of stalling out already and had to build up some momentum so I decided to ignore it and yelled. “Go!”
---
“Straight ten paces!”
“Run Face, now stop”
“Pick it up!”
“What?”
“At your feet!”
“The chicken BA, not the cone.”
“Around your head three times kid. Faster.”
“Now do a little dance BA, shake your hips a bit.”
“How come Hannibal isn’t telling Face to dance?”
“To your right kid…other right!”
“Make a circle BA, around like dosey-doe.”
“Reach down and find the pylon, now go around it.”
“Why didn’t you say that Murdock?”
“Straight, straight!”
“Grab the noodle!”
“Swing!!”
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK….
It went on for a full two minutes before my shouting could be heard over the yelling. I hadn’t realized it was possible to raise a bruise with a pool noodle. I was about to apologize for letting them hurt each other when I looked over at Hannibal. He was bent double hands on his knees wheezing. With laughter. Murdock had fallen to the grass and was gasping into the ground. Even the combatants were laughing, reaching out blindly for each other and leaning. My heart started to settle to something like a normal rhythm. This was good?
I collected the blindfolds from the two men and looked around.
Hannibal eyed Murdock nervously. I flicked my gaze between the two men. Why was the bigger man with longer reach looking uncomfortable? Murdock smiled a little half grin that crinkled his eyes up. It would have been adorable, if he didn’t look so feral.
Hannibal blindfolded Murdock, whispering something in his ear. Then he leaned down and let me twist the bit of fabric around his head.
“What do they need to do?” BA asked, examining the course carefully.
“Make it something really good.” Face prompted.
I sighed, pausing to think. It had to be trickier than before, now that they were onto the system. But it couldn’t really be sillier or else the men might feel targeted. I walked the length of the corridor again, weaving through pylons and stopping at the last one. I put it on my head like a hat and spun around three times. Then I gestured for silence and picked up the noodles moving them back down the corridor to the starting line and throwing them well behind the boppers.
“GO!”
I covered my ears against the noise immediately. Nobody bothered with silly dances this time. Face’s instructions were enthusiastic, but not as accurate as Hannibal’s had been. The older man was responsive though, and seemed to understand even the most garbled instructions. But Murdock was like a guided missile. BA shouted measurements and directions and what sounded like grid coordinates in an even clear voice. Murdock sprinted the entire course and spun madly with the pylon. He staggered for a moment after, but quickly oriented himself and dashed for the noodle.
“Boss, he’s gonna beat you! Coming to your right, time to sweep the floor.”
I watched in horror as Hannibal dropped and slid across the grass throwing his legs out wide, right in the path of Murdock. Everything slowed, I cringed in anticipation of the coming face-plant.
“Jump fool!” BA’s voice reverberated, made deeper by the slowing of time.
Without hesitation Murdock leapt impossibly high in the air clearing Hannibal completely. He was about to make a perfect three point landing when an arm waved up from the ground in a blind grasping search. Making contact, Hannibal’s hand clamped around Murdock’s ankle. Murdock crashed to ground, Hannibal rose and cocked his head in question.
“Two side steps to your right Hannibal, then straight ahead.” Face called out. Hannibal nodded and followed instructions exactly, dragging a struggling Murdock along with him.
I remembered to close my mouth at that point. What the hell was happening? Stupid grown men, you think they would know better. With students ‘hands off’ had always been an understood rule. I shook my head in despair waiting for the protests and complaints. But nobody called foul. Murdock twisted madly, yelling in another language. How was it that you can always tell that its swear words even when you can’t understand whats being said? BA scolded from the sideline and Face cackled, but they all seemed to accept tripping, grabbing and dragging as fair play.
Murdock finally managed to squirm free, but Hannibal had gotten to his pylon already and whirled like a dervish. After that it was a flat out sprint to the noodles. Hannibal showed absolutely no effects of spinning and made a straight line. Murdock was quicker and pulled ahead by, well, a head. Sensing his defeat, Hannibal dove for his noodle, Murdock grabbed his and swung madly, missing the other man’s face by a fraction of an inch. Prompted by BA’s cry of “Lower crazy!”, he swung down, like someone killing a snake.
Hannibal swung up at the same time and the noodles met with a loud thwack. Bits of colourful foam flew. They fenced, Hannibal seeming to sense where his opponent was striking. Finally Murdock pressed his advantage and knelt on Hannibal’s chest whacking him about the legs and belly crowing in victory.
Huffing heavily, both men lifted their blindfolds and grinned at each other. Murdock gave the taller man a hand up. Clasping his hands together, Murdock bowed formally, bending at the waist. Hannibal followed suit with sincere gravitas.
“Is, um, is everybody okay?” I asked.
Murdock patted me on the shoulder, waving his weapon in the air.
“Sorry about your noodle’s Mully, we kinda shredded them.”
“Don’t worry about the noodles, are you okay?”
Murdock waved his hand dismissively and turned to fist bump BA.
“Hannibal, why did you let go?” Face teased slapping Hannibal’s back.
“He’s like a greased pig!”
“You can grease my pork any day Hannibal!”
I blinked. Several times. Greasy, slick, naked…
“Ahem.”
ummm… what? Where were we? Ah yes, being professional.
Face was holding out a folded bill. “For the noodles.” He explained. I nodded and pocketed the money. The men looked at me expectantly.
“If by some miracle nobody is hurt, maybe we should move on to something else?”
I needed to get them away from any activity involving noodles or competition as fast as possible. Before someone decided they needed a tie breaker. “Something involving cooperation maybe.” I led the group to a shady patch of grass and had them settle in a square. Beside each man I placed an empty bowl. Into the centre I put a tub full of marbles.
“The objective is to get as many marbles into your bowl as possible.”
“Aint no cooperations there.” That little grin played at the corners of BA’s lips again.
“The caveat is that you can only use the spoon I give you.” I handed each man a spool that had been attached to a four foot piece of dowel. “You cannot take the spoon off the stick, you cannot move your bowl nor the tub of marbles and you cannot move from where you are seated.” Rules delivered, I walked away.
BA immediately scooped a marble with his spoon and stretched his arm out as far as possible and twisted his wrist to bring the spoon to his bowl. He shifted his grip, leaned and turned, but there was no way he could manoeuvre the long handled spoon to his own bowl. He muttered darkly under his breath.
Face and Murdock meanwhile were trying to pick each other’s noses with the spoons. It was quickly turning into another fencing match.
“And no hitting!” I blurted with images of a lost eye rolling through my head. Both men ducked their heads sheepishly.
BA had resorted to tossing marbles into the air trying to lob them toward his bowl. He managed to hit himself several times, which was quite impressive because it is a difficult task. He was getting closer than anyone I had even seen, but couldn’t manage to land one in his bowl.
Hearing giggles I growled, “Face, Murdock…” I didn’t need to see them to know that they were batting each other with the spoons again. I did, however, turn when I heard the tink of glass hitting ceramic. There was one marble in BA’s bowl.
Hannibal smirked.
BA smiled and chuffed, “Looks like I win.” He crossed his arms. Hannibal narrowed his eyes. He lifted his spoon again and scooped a marble, then stretched (a bit) to drop it into Face’s bowl. He repeated for Murdock. Everybody had one marble except him.
“Looks like we win and Hannibal looses.” Face crowed.
Tink.
Murdock moved his spoon away from Hannibal’s bowl. One all.
Hannibal nodded and placed a marble in Murdock’s bowl. This is better. They were starting to understand. Helping others is helping yourself. Reciprocity, giving and receiving.
Tink. Tink.
Murdock and BA put marbles in each other’s bowls. Two all.
Tink… Tink… Tink-tink-tink-tink tinktinktinktink…
They caught on fast, no doubt. The spoons moved in surprising concert. I watched the blur of metal and aggies in the middle of the square. Bowls were filling and tub emptying. Not a dropped marble to be seen.
As quickly as it began, the spooning ended. A quick tally showed me four equal piles of marbles in four bowls. One marble left in the tub.
Damn.
I always count the marbles, always make sure there is a way for the game to end fairly. Damn extra marble, it blows the whole thing. I scanned the ground to see if there were marbles that had been dropped and forgotten.
CRASH…tinkle. I jumped at the sound of broken glass.
Murdock looked sheepish. His long handled spoon was poised in the air, pointing over his shoulder. Follow-through position after a catapult procedure. No more problem marble.
“We’ll pay for that.” Hannibal sighed. BA rolled his eyes. Face reached for his wallet. Again.
I waved my hand at the offer of cash.
“Why don’t we just run a tab?” I suggested.
Face replaced the wallet and diligently noted the broken lightbulb in a small notebook.
I smiled and the anxious expressions. “Its unconventional, but I like the way you think Murdock.” Expressions changed to surprise. “What was the point of this exercise?”
“Encouraging good spoon dexterity?” Face joked. I shook my head.
“Making people forge alliances.”
“Closer.” I commended BA. But he was still thinking in an win-lose paradigm.
“Reciprocity.” Hannibal said, looking at me closely from the corner of his eye.
“Partly.”
“Being dependent.” Murdock ventured. He looked around the circle cautiously. I nodded, encouraging. He took a breath. “You’re dependent on others in the game. You can’t help yourself.”
“Except by helping them first.” BA said nodding.
“It can turn into a battle of alliances. Pairs of people taking on the others competitively, even stealing from their bowls. I think its interesting that in the end, you all ended up with the same number of marbles.”
I watched their eyes flick from bowl to bowl.
“And the extra marble?” Hannibal questioned. He thought I had set them up.
“A mistake actually, I miscounted. But Murdock overcame that.” They squirmed on the ground. Nobody would even meet the eyes of another. I mentally shook my head as the momentum of the group started to nose dive. Time for something more physical then.
“Okay, everybody up. I think you’re ready for the big kid activities.” I led the group to the nearest picnic table. “Before we begin, I want to review spotting position.”
“Spotting?” Face furrowed.
“Supporting your teammates to prevent injury during a higher risk activity.” He nodded. “Okay, I want you all to stand as if you were going to fight someonnnnnah…”
I stepped back instinctively. There was a wall of loose fists and grim expressions facing me. There was none of the self-conscious joking I usually see from the participants. Each man was deadly serious. Deadly. Serious.
“Good, good, you seem to understand this. Now, open your hands.” They complied, expressions opening at the same time. I breathed a little easier. “This is spotting position, you have a wide base, your hands are ready to support a falling teammate. Sometimes you will need to hold your hands flat,” I demonstrated with my hands out as if cradling a baby, “to support someone in a horizontal position.”
The men all nodded. I pointed to the picnic table. “Someone will stand on the bench and fall backward into the arms of the others. You must communicate clearly by asking “Ready to catch” the catchers respond “Ready.” then you say “Falling” and only then let yourself fall back.”
“Oh, oh, oh, can I go first!” Murdock waved his hand in the air. I repressed a smirk.
“Sure, just wait while I get the team ready.” I arranged their arms overlapping in a zipper pattern. I joined the group to make it enough people. Four catchers was the bare minimum, but something suggested to me that these men could manage catching more weight than the average student.
They all immediately took the correct position without being prompted, legs one in front of the other, shoulder width apart, arms out. Murdock climbed onto the bench and turned his back.
“Ready to catch?”
“Ready fool.” “Ready.” “Good to go buddy.”
“Falling.” And he did, without hesitation. The catchers held with little effort.
“Feet first!” I reminded them as they lowered the man and stood him up.
“That was fun guys.” He gushed and skipped around to the side. “You go next BA!”
BA crossed his arms and scowled. He didn’t say anything with his voice, but everything else about him communicated ‘no’ very clearly. Until his sweeping gaze met Hannibal’s. Grey and brown met in unblinking struggle for several breaths. Neither man moved a muscle. They wrestled more intensely than any one of them had physically battled in the great noodle war.
“I’ve fallen from three stories with nobody to catch me. This is silly.” BA growled.
“Lets kick it up a notch then BA, what do you think?” Hannibal patted the top of the picnic table.
The big man blinked with slow disdain.
I jerked my attention away from the two men when I heard the thunk of wood on wood.
“Two tables BA.” Murdock crowed after he and Face settled the second picnic table on top of the first. The table top was at my shoulder. He turned, looked over and sneered. With shocking speed a third table was added. I looked up and panicked.
“This is not actually, technically, allowed. Seriously, its in the policies and procedures.” I protested, visions of spinals and ambulances filling my mind.
Hannibal walked to my side and leaned down. Damn he was tall. “We can manage it, and I think it would be an important step.”
I looked from the table tower to Hannibal’s confident expression and back several times. He nodded confidently. “Yessir.” I responded. Did I just say that out loud? Sir???
Hannibal jerked his chin toward the tower and BA climbed the table seats like a giant’s ladder. I had never seen a reluctant participant persuaded to fall by increasing the risk. These men were unlike any corporate lackeys I had ever met.
“Ready.” BA grunted. We scrambled into position. He didn’t wait for our response and huffed “Falling.” tilting back at the same time. It was that moment that I really contemplated the figure of this unusual man. He was thick and solid beyond anyone I had ever worked with. Images of oxen and Clydesdales and rhinoceroses passed before my eyes. He wasn’t puffed up, just very, very solid. And hard. And heavy. And plummeting like a stone toward the ground.
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, arms held out more for the look of it than any conviction I could make a difference.
A quiet huff informed me that he had been caught. I opened my eyes a slit and peeked out.
“Christ Boscoe, have you put on weight?” “Was it like flying? I’m so jealous you got to use three tables!” “Thank-you Corporal.”
Corporal? A military title, but spoken so gently. Something twitched in me, pulling a resonant chord that I felt in my chest.
“Face is next! Face is next!”
Without hesitation Face, then Hannibal, then Murdock because he insisted on trying from that ridiculous, completely unsafe height, all climbed and fell. Nobody was dropped. I offered up a prayer of thanks and turned to walk away.
“Your turn Mully.”
I stopped in mid-step. Sure, I’ve done all the things that I ask of the participants. It was part of my philosophy, never asking others to do something I’m not willing to try. But this was completely out of the usual range. And I hadn’t asked, it was Face and Murdock that build the tower of inevitable spinal injury and Hannibal that had initiated the whole ‘kick it up a notch’ mentality.
If any of those men had said it, I would have laughed it off. But it was BA. He had scowled through the whole process. First he had seemed to feel singled out, then resentful that everybody else went without fuss. His even tone was a test, not a joke.
“That won’t be necessary BA.” Hannibal’s voice was calm and placating. He was defending me against the challenge, protecting me from having to back out from fear.
Hell I needed protecting.
“Okay.” I said and started climbing.
Getting up was easy. I was looking up, didn’t realize just how high the table top was. When I stood on the edge though, there was no ignoring it. BA had missed a spot on his last shave, I could see a patch of stubble.
“OK up there darling?”
My mouth was dry, but I nodded. Turning my back to the group I set my heels on the edge of the wood. I did the mental math. There was over half a ton of muscle waiting to catch me.
“Ready to catch.” I croaked.
No jokes this time, a reassuring chorus of readies.
“Falling.”
And I was. Then, not.
I was suspended. Gently.
Like the best five star hotel bed ever. Better. I sighed.
“Comfy?” I could hear Face smirk.
“Feet first lads.”
And I was stood up. A little flushed, but I tugged my shirt down and cleared my throat. Still professional. I hoped.
“Well, physical trust doesn’t seem to be much of a challenge for you then.”
“We have some experience with it, yes.” Hannibal clapped a hand on my shoulder. I staggered.
“Lets try something a little different then.” I led the group into the woods, to a rope swing. At one side was an empty cooking pot. At the other side was a bin full of vegetables. Ropes defined a space in between. “We’re going to make soup.”
“What kind of soup?”
I tossed a smooth rock into the pot. It clanged sharply. “Stone soup.”
“Not even crazy can make a stone taste good.”
“Oh no, stone soup is always the best soup.” I countered.
“High in minerals I’m sure.” Face said.
“Well, it is better if people add a little something.”
“We don’t have nothing to make soup with.” BA shook his head.
“I’m going to let you use those vegetables. You can each swing over on the rope and choose a vegetable. But, you can only bring it back if one of your teammates names the vegetable. Not its vegetable name, this is all about symbols. The vegetable you bring back is going to represent something that you contribute to your team. Something that makes it successful. You’ve proved in all the activities up to now that you are a very successful team, now I want you to give some thought to why.”
BA flexed his fist. I heard knuckles crack. “And that something, it cannot be a physical characteristic. It must be a behaviour or a character trait. You can each name one trait for each teammate. The more vegetables, the better the soup.”
I backed away to watch. The men shuffled. Murdock stuck his hands into his pockets. BA crossed his arms again. Face pouted. They all looked at Hannibal. I leaned against a tree. I could wait.
It amazed me. These men were willing to plummet from eight feet in the air into each other’s arms. But not a one was willing to say out loud what they admired in each other. They were more scared of talking about feelings than risking death.
Hannibal’s shoulders looked like they were going to merge into his ears. My neck hurt looking at how tense he was. I contemplated sitting. Just to send the message that I was willing to wait all day.
“Hannibal is a good leader.” Face gestured broadly in Hannibal’s general direction. “He can go get some vegetable to represent leadership.”
Hannibal sighed and gripped the rope.
I raised a hand. They stopped. I allowed myself exactly one second of self congratulation before speaking, “Leadership is too general. I want you to name something specific that makes him a good leader.”
I almost withered when Face squinted in anger at me. “Henhsrspct.”
“I’m sorry Murdock, I didn’t catch all of that.” Or any of it really. He was mumbling into his chest.
“He has respect. For me. For all of us. But, nobody treated me with the kinda respect he does.” Something passed between them, an acknowledgement of a shared experience. “And he does it for everybody. For all of us, but for everybody we meet too. Sometimes we work with people who are, kinda hard up, having difficulties and he never talks down and he always listens.”
I nodded remembering that he addressed me as Ms Lin when we first met. The corporate guys, they often treated me like the hired help, but Hannibal had spoken to me like an equal from the start.
I watched him grab the rope and swing over with easy grace. He chose a potato, swung back and placed it in the pot.
The tension eased a bit. First time is the hardest. Face smiled at Murdock (lucky guy) and stepped toward him.
“Murdock has the best sense of humour.” Face slung an arm over Murdock’s shoulder and gestured with his other hand. “He can lighten the mood anytime. And we’ve been in some rough situations when we could’ve just given up. When I had given up. But he made me laugh and that made it possible to go on. And he does it without hurting anybody, its not mean humour. Its just, good.”
“Except maybe for el Diablo.”
“Yeah, but she really deserves it.”
And they were giggling, making some kind of harmony together. Hannibal smiled and even BA seemed to be scowling less.
Murdock hollered like Tarzan as he swung over and brought back a deformed carrot.
“BA is dependable.” Face punched BA on the shoulder. “That sounds boring, but if you knew all the crazy stuff that we do, its really amazing. I mean, we all get caught up in our own stuff, screwing around with ideas or women or crazy, but Bosco is always thinking about the team and doing what needs to be done. There’s not much that we can depend on these days, so knowing that he’s there, steady like. Its kind of a really big deal.”
BA stood still for a couple of heart beats. Long enough that I started to panic thinking that this whole thing was too much for him to handle. His stoic denial of feelings would kick in and, that big, stubborn BA was going to just bail. Instead he turned on a heel and marched across to the tub of vegetables. He grabbed an onion, marched back and threw it into the pot.
Murdock threw his arms around BA’s shoulders. I noted that his hands didn’t meet at the back.
“Ahhhh, BA, you know that onions are my favourite.”
“Shut up crazy.” BA said.
Sweetly.
“Face is intelligent.”
The man in question snorted when Hannibal said that. “Shut-up kid.” Hannibal replied, and the tenderness in that phrase completely derailed my automatic response. Hannibal continued, “He is always thinking. Some people would say scheming, or plotting. But there is no denying that his remarkable brain is working all the time. And he’s damn good at it. Good ideas. Good details. Good vision.”
Face chose a stalk of celery.
A warm, full sense of satisfaction filled my chest. Everybody had been addressed. They had taken the exercise seriously and spoken with thought and care. I walked over to the pot, ready to go into my team as stone soup analogy by way of wrap up. The guys had done well, overcome some real inhibitions and I congratulated myself on a good day.
But the group didn’t seem to think they were done quite yet.
“Murdock is smart too.”
I looked up at BA. He kicked at the wood chips with a steel clad toe. But, his voice was clear. “He’s creative, thinks outside the box. Sometimes so far outside the box he’s in outer space, but he knows all about nearly everything. That deserves respect.”
BA was breathing hard. Murdock eyed him carefully and kind of edged around on his way to the tub. He picked out a tomato and put it in the pot. He didn’t hug him like before though, just crossed the circle and stood next to the big man.
“Face is caring. You’re a bit of a mother hen on occasion kid, but we all need that sometimes.” Face added a handful of pea pods.
“Hannibal is protective. You’re security in size thirteen boots boss.” Green beans.
“BA is patient. I take advantage of that a lot.”
“I shout threats at you all the time.”
“Yeah, but you hardly ever follow through.” Murdock grinned.
Everybody had abandoned the pretence of swinging, but they continued to carry vegetables over. When BA returned from fetching a head of broccoli he bumped shoulders with Murdock before standing still.
I moved my gaze between the four of them. They had started out more restrained and reticent than any other group I’d worked with. But they finished with some of the most sincere and heart felt communication I had ever heard.
“And, boss, you’re… well when we… I mean,” Face was looking at Hannibal, standing close. Hannibal had a hand around Face’s arm. I could barely hear, the aborted sentences got softer and softer till Face was leaning in as if to whisper in Hannibal’s ear.
I could see a private moment when it was happening right in front of me.
“I’ve forgotten something for the next step, you guys carry on and I’ll be right back.” I turned and walked quickly to the office.
Seeing Face leaning in close like that. If it had been another situation, it would have looked like the prelude to a kiss. I hummed a little imagining that.
Once in the office, I did grab a bag of bird seed. I counted to fifty and started walking back. When I turned the corner I stopped for a moment. Surprised and moved.
It might have been a football huddle. A tight circle of men, heads leaning together. But their arms were around waists not shoulders, hands settling on hips hips. Was BA cupping Face’s ass?
I stomped on a twig to announce my presence and kept my eyes on the path. When I got to the clearing, all four men had vegetables in hand and were dropping them into the overflowing pot.
“Well, its quite the collection you put together isn’t it?” Was that a little extra colour in Hannibal’s cheeks? Did Murdock’s lips look a little swollen?
I crouched by the pot of vegetables and continued. “A team is just a stone in a pot, until you add all the best bits of the team members. But, sometimes people are selfish, they want to hold on to their vegetables for themselves, keep their talents for their own benefit. But once your willing to risk, to venture and let others see you for who you are. Its possible to create something fantastic.”
It was a speech that I had used many times over. Mostly with high school kids, its a bit abstract for the little kids. But, I had never really meant it as much as I did this time. When I looked up, they were all nodding.
“And its good that you’re all so different.” I continued, “Imagine if you were all the same. If the only thing to be added to the soup was parsnips. It would be a bland soup, less satisfying and less nutritious. Less successful.”
I stood and drew the bag of bird seed from my pocket. “But its not all potatoes and carrots. We all have traits that we would like to change. Attitudes or behaviours that affect the team negatively.” I reached for Hannibal’s hand and turned it palm upward, dropping a sunflower seed into the centre. “Areas of growth. Seeds that we would like to plant and see blossom into new attitudes and behaviours.”
Each man got a seed.
“Think about something you would like to change. Something small is fine. Be as specific as possible. Make a promise to yourself to take action and plant the seed. As you watch it grow, keep track of your progress. You’ll have set backs, but be encouraged to keep trying.”
BA eyed me warily. His gaze flicked from the seed to me and back. “Are we supposed to tell you.”
“No. Of course not. Its personal.”
He nodded and leaned down to scratch in the ground and buried the seed.
“Wait, you should plant it at home, where you can watch it.”
“Thats not really possible for us right now Mully. If you don’t mind, I think we’d all be happy to plant them here.” Hannibal walked a few steps away and knelt in a patch of sun. The position of gardener seemed to fit him well.
The men milled about in the forest for a few minutes. My lip may have trembled a bit, watching them gravely pat dirt around their hopes. A siren interrupted my contemplation.
The team were on their feet and jogging in an instant. Murdock turning back to grab the pot then sprinting away. By the time I caught up them, they were in the van, engine idling. Hannibal leaned out the window.
“Thanks for everything Mully. It was just what we needed.”
“It was fun, glad to be of service.” I tried to not look confused and distressed.
He handed me an envelope, “Sorry to exit so quickly, here’s the fee. There’s some extra for the light bulb in there.”
We shook hands.
“I can’t really explain, but you’re going to be asked some questions soon. And, well, I wouldn’t ask you to lie, but the less specific you can be with your answers, the better it would be for us. Of course, its your choice entirely.”
I nodded, waving dust away as the van tore out of the gravel drive.
The agents found me counting marbles.
“Ma’am, we need you to answer some questions for us.”
“Yessir?” I looked between them. It was like cookie cutter men, all buzzed and clad in plain dark suits.
After introductions and the showing of badges and papers they got around to asking for details about the group of men.
“They were all about, um, average height….average build… yeah, all of them… oh they had darkish blonde hair, one was a little darker… no marks or scars… no tattoos… I would guess between 30 and 40 years old… its so hard to tell, I’m not an expert like those guys at the carnival, they always amazed me… why would I memorize a license plate number?… you’ll need to contact my boss about a contract… they paid in cash…”
It went on for some time, but when I made sounds about wanting a lawyer, they backed off.
I was left standing alone at camp. It seemed very empty at that moment.
---
“Mully, why are there three picnic tables stacked on top of each other?”
Monday morning. My boss squinted at the playing field and the tower of inevitable spinal injury.
“Um…”
“If I didn’t know better I would say that it was summer and those teenage counsellors were doing extreme trust falls again. But thats against policy now.”
“Um…”
“The cooks are asking about the big cooking pot, have you seen it? And did you know that the porch light was broken?”
“Um…”
“Its the kids from down the road, damn hooligans. I’m thinking about hiring a security guard for the weekends when nobody is here. Last month somebody stole all the lazy lines from the high-ropes, remember that?”
I nodded, trying to recall if there was any other damage I couldn’t account for. Hopefully he wasn’t going to inventory the pool noodle supplies. Those kids did steal the lazy lines, I didn’t feel too guilty about letting my boss assume they had done the other stuff too.
“Anyway, we have a group of grade sixes coming in for the week, the usual stuff. Can you get maintenance to get those tables on the ground and replace the bulb?” He turned to go back in the office, but stopped and pointed to a box by the door.
“Almost forgot, you’ve got a package, arrived by courier this morning.”
It was a plain box. Large but light. Wrapped in brown paper. No return address.
Inside I found the kitchen’s pot, a bag of coffee, a picture and a note.
The soup was delicious. Hannibal made me return the pot. Face said your coffee sucks, hope this will last you a while. How long until the seed hatches? Thanks for a fun day - Murdock
The picture was of a small pot filled with soil sitting on the dash board of what might have been a big, black van.
If it was, I wouldn’t tell.