Nicola Griffith - Always

“Did everyone do their lists?” General nodding, a few movements towards bags or coats. “No. I don’t want to see them. I want you to remember, during this class, what you wrote down.”

Suze stirred slightly. I gestured for her to speak.

“You ever write one of those lists?”

“No.”

“So how do you know what you’re willing to do, when it comes right down to it?”

I could point to the bullet scar on my arm and the thin white seam under my ribs, I could tell her about the man I had put in a coma at the end of last year, or the gunman I had killed with a flashlight when I was eighteen. But she wasn’t really asking about me. “We can never know. Not really. Every situation is different.”

She frowned.

They know nothing, I reminded myself. “Are you willing to be a guinea pig?” I said.

“Sure,” said Suze.

I stepped to the center of the room, beckoned for her to join me, and the instant she began to move I lunged at her, fist raised. She flinched and stepped back and turned away, hands going up to protect her head. Most of the others—but not Sandra—shot backwards like iron filings suddenly attracted to the wall. After a moment Suze looked up to find me standing two feet away, arms at my sides.

She started to uncurl. “What the fuck was—”

I lunged again, and again she flinched and stepped back, but this time she didn’t turn aside, her eyes stayed on me, and her hands went only halfway up. Everyone else was pressed flat against the wall.

“One more time,” I said, and lunged, and once again she flinched, but her step back was small, her hands were in fists, and her chin pointed up. Therese looked as though she was about to protest.

I raised both palms and stepped back two paces. "Thank you. I won’t do it again—to you or anyone else—without warning.” It took Suze a moment to decide to believe me, then she lowered her fists, but not her chin, and rejoined the others who were stepping cautiously away from the wall.

“So,” I said, “what did we learn from that?”

“Never volunteer.” Pauletta, and she sounded put out.

“Besides that.” No one said anything. “All right. What did Suze’s first response look like to you?”

“Like you scared the shit out of her for no good reason,” Nina said.

“And what about her second response?”

“The same, but less.”

“I was not scared.” Several of them nodded sympathetically, even though every single one of them knew this wasn’t true. Christie patted her on the arm.

“And the third time?”

“Like she was about to run but changed her mind.”

“She was going to fight,” Christie said. More nods.

“She did flinch,” Pauletta said, sounding as though she were trying very hard to be fair, even though I didn’t deserve it.

“Yes. Almost everyone will flinch. Suze did very well.” Christie smiled. Therese looked slightly mollified. I wondered whether to file flattery under useful teaching technique or craven behavior. “So, the same apparent situation, three different responses. They were different responses because Suze interpreted each of my attacks differently. She gained experience. She extrapolated. By the third time she knew I wasn’t going to hit her. She’d also had practice at responding. In other words, each situation was different. Even though what I did was exactly the same, Suze’s experience level had changed, so it was a different situation.”

Which is why Sandra had moved only after she saw that everyone else had and might notice if she didn’t.

“One way to get some experience without being in real danger is to do a little role play. Has any of you ever done any acting?”

They all studied the carpet very carefully.

“Not since fourth grade,” Nina said eventually. “The nativity play.”

“Yeah?” said Pauletta. “Who did you play, the donkey?”

“Pauletta, Nina, you’re our first volunteers. Pauletta, stand over here. It’s night. You’re waiting at a MARTA station. You’re the only one on the platform, and the train’s late. Imagine that. Pretend you’re doing it.”

Most women learned very young how to play the roles expected of them. Girls’ games were built on the notion: play Mom, play nurse, play teacher. They played and played and played until they learnt to inhabit the roles.

Pauletta started looking up and down the imaginary train line, rising onto her toes, then rocking back onto her heels. She put her hands on her hips, sighed in exasperation. The picture of a tired, irritated commuter.

“Nina, over there. You’re male, about thirty, you’ve had a couple of shots of Jack Daniel’s, you feel like a big man. Imagine how that feels. You walk onto the platform and see this sweet young thing waiting at the other end. You realize that if you wanted to, you could have some fun.”

Women observed male behavior closely, learnt to parse every nuance. Like antelope with lions, their safety sometimes depended on it.

Nina leered and sauntered forward, head relaxed, gaze moving here and there, taking in the fact that they were the only people, slowing as she approached the woman on the platform. Pauletta turned her shoulders slightly away from the man and put her hands in her pockets.

“You can speak, if you like.”

“Um- um, ” said Nina, appraisal vibrating in every syllable. “Hello, dar lin’.”

Pauletta looked away. Perfect.

“Okay. Freeze frame.” I turned to the rest of the class. “What do you see?”

“She’s frightened,” Jennifer said.

Nods.

“She’s hoping he’ll just go away,” Tonya said. More nods.

“Do you think he will?”

“Fuck no,” said Suze.

“How do you know that?”

“Look at him. He’s gonna play with her. He knows she’s not gonna stop him.”

“So what do you think will happen next? Therese?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. The delicate muscles at the top of her shoulders flexed as she folded her arms. “It depends on what she does.”

Sandra was watching the imaginary platform intently. I said, “Does anyone think Pauletta could stop him at this point? Sandra?”

When she heard her name her belly tightened—the waistband of her sweatpants moved a good inch—and she didn’t look at me, but nodded.

“Why do you think that?”

She looked at me sideways. “Because he doesn’t really want to hurt her.”

Pauletta broke her pose and turned round. “What—”

“Nina, stay exactly as you are. Everyone, look at Nina. Look carefully. Remember what you see. Nina, tell us what you were imagining your character to be thinking. You can move now if you want.”

She turned round. “I was thinking, Hey, I feel good, she looks good, wonder if she wants to chat. When she turned away, I thought, Uptight bitch, and got ticked off. She messed with my mood, you know?” I could almost hear a voice from her teenage years: Smile, foxy lady, I’m feeling so mellow….

“Who are you calling an uptight bitch?” Pauletta said.

The two of them clearly trusted each other reasonably well. I wouldn’t do what came next with Sandra or Jennifer or Katherine. “Pauletta, if you’d go back to how you were before you saw the man come onto the platform, that’s right, turned this way, hands out of pockets to begin with. Nina, I want you to imagine that this time you mean business. You were out drinking because you just got fired. You don’t feel good, and you want this woman to not feel good, either. You want to hurt her. Think about it, get a clear picture in your head of how you’re going to hurt her. No, start back here again. Good. Go.”

The difference was obvious. This time there was no swagger. Her head did not turn, because she already knew they were on their own. Her gaze was focused on Pauletta, chin slightly down. One hand came forward, the other stayed in her pocket, but tense. Unease rippled through the women behind me.