Teddy Wayne - Kapitoil

All seven children approached me, and I said I had a fun game called Sleep Handshake. I explained the rules: “All the players walk around and shake hands, and one person also scratches one other person’s hand with his finger,” I said. “After several seconds, that other person ‘falls asleep.’ The other players must observe and guess who is the ‘sleeper.’” I used to play this game with Zahira and her friends to teach them analytical skills of observation.

“I know that game,” one of the older children said. “It’s not called Sleep Handshake. It’s called Murderer. And you don’t fall asleep. You die.”

“No,” I said. “That is a different game. In this game you merely fall asleep. Now I will choose a sleeper.” I shook everyone’s hand and scratched Michelle’s hand.

While we played, I listened to the adults play Taboo. They were all laughing and shouting with friendly competition. Because I am an adept multitasker with low-level problems, I studied the various strategies they used. The weaker players tried to describe the clues in elongated ways, but the stronger players, like Rebecca and Cynthia, used outside-the-box thinking to innovate clues and were more efficient.

The children enjoyed themselves as well, and at one point I saw Rebecca looking at us. Soon one of the adults said he had to leave.

“Karim, we need a sub,” Rebecca said.

Michelle put another child to sleep. “The children require supervision.”

“They’ll be fine,” Cynthia said. “Barron, move your fat ass.”

I was on the same team as Rebecca, which relieved me, as I didn’t want my teammates to become upset if I failed, and Rebecca was not the class of person to do that.

I studied more intensely as the other players provided clues, and because of that I didn’t try to answer any clues. I was very nervous just before my turn, but then I became calm when I remembered I must think outside the box, which is easy for me.

My first phrase was “Holiday Inn.” I could not say “hotel,” “motel,” “vacation,” “room,” “lodge.” I said: “A place you reside in overnight; non — work schedule plus non-out.”

Immediately Rebecca said “Holiday Inn!”

I used a similar strategy for the next phrase, “World Series” (I said “global iterations,” although I almost said “I attended this athletic event with Mr. Schrub”), and again Rebecca guessed it. When she correctly answered my third clue, Barron said, “You two married or something?” and I was slightly humiliated but remained focused.

My team guessed eight of my clues, which was the most of anyone, and Rebecca claimed responsibility for five of them. She was across from me, but she made her mouth move mutely so I could understand the words: “Nice job, Karim.”

It was strange to hear this compliment outside of the office, but it felt as good as when a higher-up praised me at work.

And I didn’t wish I was at Mr. Schrub’s house anymore.

The one time that was false was a few minutes after the game, when my stomach became turbulent. Probably it was from the large quantities of different foods I had consumed. I perspired, and Rebecca even asked if I was all right, and I said I was and that I had to make a telephone call, but instead I went to the restroom and turned on the water loudly so no one would hear me. I finished the toilet paper before I was completed, which panicked me, but then I located more under the sink.

We stayed until the other guests started leaving, and then Rebecca again moved her mouth to ask “Should we go?” I moved my mouth to say, “This is a strategic juncture to depart,” but she didn’t understand, so I nodded.

Because it was a holiday there were almost zero commuters. Rebecca talked nonstop about how much she had enjoyed it and continued thanking me for inviting her.

We reached Rebecca’s platform for the G train, which was empty. She again thanked me, and I said, “That is the sixth time you have thanked me.”

“I guess I’m a little thrown off by a Thanksgiving that doesn’t end in mutual recriminations fueled by gallons of cheap red wine,” she said.

We stood there for a few seconds without saying anything, and I heard her train approaching, and I said, “It is unsafe for you to travel home tonight because there are very few passengers. I will accompany you to your subway stop.”

“I’m a big girl,” she said. “Besides, it’s out of your way.”

I thought she was referring to her size, which was not thin but not big either, and then I understood, so I said, “That is true, but I would enjoy the company anyway.” She again said it was out of my way, but I maintained my position, and we boarded the train.

It was empty, minus a man and female at the other end. Their appearances and clothing were almost equal. The female rested her head on the man’s shoulder and he had his arm around her, and their eyes were closed. Rebecca and I sat next to each other, and on the trip we discussed nonwork subjects, e.g., Barron and Cynthia and Thanksgiving, but the entire time I was thinking how I wanted us to be in the same position as the couple.

Although no one was looking, I was too afraid to do anything. As we approached Rebecca’s stop, I said, “Rebecca,” and she asked, “What?” but I responded, “I should consult the map,” and I went to the middle of the train to investigate how to get back, even though I knew from the party at Rebecca’s apartment how to return to Manhattan and also I had memorized most of the subway system before I left Doha.

Rebecca’s stop at Fulton St. was next, and I had to stay on one more stop to transfer, and we didn’t talk as we decelerated into the station. I walked with Rebecca to the doors and she again thanked me and said, “Sorry, number seven.” This was the optimal time. Her fingers touched her hair and she looked through the windows of the doors at the station’s columns that passed by us like pictures in a slide projector.

I continued thinking I should kiss her, and commanded myself to do it, but the doors dinged and opened and she said good night and stepped out and the doors closed.

I watched her on the other side of the doors with her back to me, and I also saw myself in the window. I looked foolish standing there. And then the doors dinged again and reopened, as they sometimes do, and I thought this was a golden opportunity and not a random accident, and without thinking I said “Rebecca” as I did before, and she rotated and I leaned across the vertical plane of the train doors and kissed her, and she reciprocated, and I touched her hand, and we remained there for several seconds.

I could still taste the sugary milk from the Tres Leches cake she had eaten multiple pieces of, and the inside of her mouth was warm and the outside skin was cold, and my eyes remained open but hers were closed, and I wanted to remain in that position for much longer, but the doors dinged again and began closing and I pulled back so we would not get compressed.

Then the train moved and I watched her through the window as she looked down at her shoes, and I could not see if she was smiling or worried, and soon I was in the tunnel again. The entire trip back to my apartment I wondered if I should call her or not, and if I should, when I should do it and what to say. It wasn’t like a mathematics problem with a definite solution, and I had difficulty deciphering an answer. I couldn’t consult with my father and especially not Zahira. Possibly my mother would have been helpful for this situation, but I wasn’t old enough when she died to know.

a big girl (boy) = an independent female (man)

look sharp = clothing appears sexy

mutual recriminations = reciprocal insults

pastime = a leisure activity