The Quake

Chapter 4

Laying out the rules of a game, her brother set an overflowing shot glass in front of her. They were sitting at one of a thousand family style tables and benches overflowing with people. Little flickering tealights adorned the tables, creating spooky, twisting mosaics of light beneath the patrons' faces. "Every time you fail at a conversation, you have to take a shot," Drew said.

Erin nodded, picked up the shot, and slammed it down her throat. Fire coated the entire way down, dulling her overloaded senses just a little. "Ok." Drew said. "That one didn't count."

The second Erin had been thrust across the bar's threshold by her well-meaning companions, her body seized up like one tense muscle. It was taking all of her willpower not to curl up into a ball and hide in the corner. The room smelled of a repulsive mixture of kerosene, frying oil, stale beer and body odor.

If that weren't bad enough, layered on top of the grating voices, scraping boots and clinking glasses, Alice Lakey– Cuddles' owner– was shredding the vocals of Stairway to Heaven on the Karaoke machine in the corner. Nauseated, Erin slid down a little more in her seat, hoping the woman who'd cursed her to this horrific task wouldn't recognize her. Erin narrowed her eyes at Drew. "Who gets to decide if I've failed?"

Drew gestured between himself and Tyler. "We do."

Erin could feel her chest tightening. "But... who do I talk to? And what do I say?"

Drew tapped the table between them. "Talking to people is easy. Everyone just wants to talk about themselves anyway." Drew said simply. "All you have to do is ask them a question and then wait for them to respond."

Knowing her brother wouldn't let her out of this- which was why she'd enlisted him in the first place- she took three deep breaths in a calming technique that worked for her somewhat back in the classrooms at vet school.

From beside her, Tyler squeezed her shoulder. She allowed her gaze to roam over him. He'd claimed to be just as awkward in crowds as she was, but he wasn't the one who had been forced by her brother to change clothes three times before being allowed outside of the house. Erin tugged her white tank up again. She had to admit, Tyler looked pretty good in a baby blue t-shirt tight enough to emphasize his enlarged biceps and faded jeans that sloped down at the hips just so. Drew couldn't have anything to critique about Tyler. Erin on the other hand.

Observing her discomfort, Tyler formed his lips into an exaggerated, wide grin. "Fake it until you make it," he said.

She grinned back at him.

"It's time." Drew intoned. Both Erin and Tyler rolled their eyes before giving him their attention.

The first woman Drew aimed her towards was sitting alone at a table halfway between their dark corner and the bar, gazing at a muted tv. "Make me proud." Drew called while Erin scuffed her way over to the designated table.

Indecisively, Erin hovered in the aisle between tables. "Uh Hi." She said with an awkward little wave.

The woman seemed startled by Erin's appearance. "Hi..?" she said trailing out the end of the word like a question, hands cupping her pint glass.

Silence. Erin transferred weight between her feet in the uncomfortable boots Drew had picked out. God, this was awkward. She wracked her brains for something to say. Unbidden, a song came to mind from a musical she and Drew had watched once, My Fair Lady. It advised that a polite conversation had no religion and no politics, just the Rain in Spain. What was the modern equivalent? "What do you think about climate change?" Erin blurted.

The woman opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

In one breath Erin expounded, "You see the forest fires are getting pretty bad and one camp thinks that we should cut down all of the trees to slow them, but the other one says it's because of climate change, and if they would just stop fighting, they could pick one and move forward with a plan because the animals are being displaced... and then there's the question of if this is natural selection or if humans, the cause of climate disaster, should ultimately be responsible for rescuing them, but are we really the cause or is this just a natural cycle?" She honestly didn't know what words were coming out of her mouth at this point, but she had to stop and take a breath, or her heart might explode from lack of oxygen. Once she did, she really looked at the woman's body language. Rummaging in her purse, avoiding eye contact. These were all actions Erin, herself, had taken in college classrooms to avoid conversation.