Wilson appeared at the door to my office and placed his hands on the chair that was blocking the entrance.
“Why is there a chair in your doorway?” he asked.
“For visitors to sit in,” I said.
I turned back to pecking away at the keyboard and surfing the web. I checked on prices for the diamond earrings I was thinking of buying Terri. But I was hesitant. How did I know they weren’t made in some knockoff factory in China? Or maybe by a kid with a 3D printer in Florida?
When I turned back I saw Wilson sitting in the chair. He looked puzzled.
“Why are you making people sit over here? And something else is different. Why is it so quiet in here?”
“Ah, related questions,” I said. “The office is quiet because the Tornadex is being serviced. It’s at a Boeing facility outside of Spokane. Part of the regular maintenance. Belts and fans and that sort of thing.”
“And the chair?” he asked, tapping the armrest.
“Yes, notice the distance from my desk,” I said. “It’s strategically located so visitors can’t spread any germs they may be wittingly, or unwittingly carrying. Speaking of which, your mask needs to cover your chin, please.”
I scrolled through a few more earring options, stopping on a nice three carat one for $27.95. I decided against it, although they did look nice. Would anybody really know, I wondered.
Wilson now had his head back and appeared to be counting the ceiling tiles.
“You okay over there?” I asked.
He sighed and sat forward.
“I’m exhausted,” he said.
“Yes, the pandemic has worn all of us out.”
“It’s not even that. It’s our new puppy. He keeps wanting to go out in the middle of the night.”
“Tell him no,” I said. “Take a hard line now otherwise he’ll be running the show.”
Wilson got up and stretched, swiveling at the hips, then touching his toes. He was tired and bored, and like any good corporate worker he had gone in search of a colleague whose time he could waste until he became un-bored.
“I’m thinking of doing Roz’s silent retreat this afternoon,” he said. “You?”
I turned from my computer and the fake or not fake earrings.
“Retreat?” I asked.
“Yeah, Roz sent around an email about it last week.”
“I probably deleted it without reading.”
I was still smarting from the disastrous stretching class she had pulled together for the rank and file awhile back. I was in no mood to consider another participatory event.
Wilson scrolled through his phone until he found it.
“Here, from last Thursday,” he said. “Hi all, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the effort everyone is making during these unusual times, whether at home, or the special few who are reporting to work in the office. I thought it would be beneficial to everyone to have an afternoon off. Just some distraction free time to help us all decompress. I’ve scheduled an online silent retreat for next Friday afternoon as a way to help us all end the work week, and ease into the weekend.”
Wilson scrolled on and then read some more. “It says it will be led by someone from the Silence is Golden Intergalactic Retreat Center in Santa Fe. Roz ends by saying that voluntary participation is strongly encouraged.”
“Showing off her PhD in Passive Aggressive again,” I said.
Wilson went on his way, back to his office to be silent for the rest of the day, I guess. I had a brief internal debate before also concluding it would be a worthwhile way to burn a Friday afternoon. I found the email, joined the Zoom event and was surprised to see big time participation from the group.
There was Wilson at his desk. He looked like hell. Maybe dog ownership wasn’t for him. The woman from the Intergalactic Retreat Center appeared. Roz introduced her and explained a bit about our team, and the lofty-sounding mission we were all involved in. Much of it was news to me.
The retreat leader asked us to silence our phones, and our minds. Ten minutes into the retreat I could see Wilson wasn’t going to make it. His eyes were heavy and he was fighting sleep. Fifteen minutes in and I wasn’t far behind him. I shut my eyes, but just for second I told myself.
The retreat lady’s voice was soothing, and I was close to slipping off into an afternoon nap when the notes of a familiar song blared and snapped me back.
Duh duh duh da-da duh…
It was the theme from Rocky, instantaneously identifiable. Someone had it as a ringtone. Well, this was different. I peeked and saw most of my fellow team members were maintaining their Zen state. A few had smiles. The song kept going.
Duh duh duh da-da duh…
I looked for the culprit, my eyes bouncing from square to square on the Zoom grid. Ah, there he was. Wilson. It had to be. His wife was Roxanne, hence Rocky. Maybe the new pup soiled the carpet at home and he needed to know about it.
Problem was, Wilson appeared to be semi-conscious. He was out like a light, head back and mask askew like he had just gotten in from a bender. In between beats of Rocky he was snoring disturbingly loud with a machine-like rhythm.
The retreat lady looked annoyed, sensing a mood in need of repair.
“Okay, let’s…” she started to say until Rocky cut her off.
Duh duh duh da-da duh…
The team was coming to life now, shoulders swaying and faces smiling.
The biggest surprise was Roz. She was in the zone, eyes closed and bopping like she was in a spin class.
The song played on and Roz screeched the chorus.
“Gonna fly now.”
It was painful but entertaining. The Zen lady felt it would be appropriate to fight Roz for control of the retreat formerly known as silent.
“Please, let’s settle our minds and put all distractions in a little box for later,” she pleaded.
Too late. Andy the Suck-up muscled in like it was Karaoke night.
“Flying high now…” he sang, in a pitch that actually wasn’t bad. A hidden talent maybe.
Retreat Lady was desperately trying to salvage the whole thing, but all the little Zoom heads were swaying and bopping with Roz and Andy belting out the big ending.
“Gonna fly…fly…”
Retreat Lady even cashed it in for the big crescendo and screamed “fly” with her arms in the air, seemingly convinced she could fly.
There were whoops and hollers as it ended and it all jolted Wilson awake and he answered his phone.
“Uh, hey, what’s up? Yeah, I’m doing my silent retreat…uh, I think…”