Chapter 2

I’d about half an hour to reset before taking yet. another. CVA to James Clark’s picnic so I showered again, put on some oil, did make-up again following Ali’s pattern and dressed for a picnic - not dating clothes, and not as hot as what we’d worn to the Square last weekend. My gold mesh flat sandals. I put Beck’s pony ear-rings on and my clit and nipples woke up.

>Hi, Beck,

Today I’m going to a friendly picnic; perhaps you’ll be there. Regardless, can your pony come see you later? She would love to please you! <3 <3 <3 -Achille

Yong Chen:

>Hi, Ash,

If your L1/7 (it’s Friday) is free during the evening I would love to learn to kitchen-dance with you. Would you come to my house? Coordinates attached; also a proposal: recipe for silken chicken, it’s Indian. If that is attractive we can make that, it’s a good first dance. -YCHEN -Enclosure1 -Enclosure2

Ali -

>Ash, will you have a date with me? L1/6? And I would love it if we four got together, too. <3 <3 <3 -AXShig

I fussed with my schedule and got in the CVA.

Beck -

>Hi, Ash pony,

Yes. Please come to my place in the afternoon or early evening. There are many things to do, so I am keeping you overnight. I just saw the block on Monday disappear from your schedule so I am making Plans for you. <3 <3 <3 -Beck-oo

It took me down to a street I didn’t know, off Chandrasekhar, and into an odd neighborhood I immediately liked. There were a lot of deciduous trees here, though none were terribly tall - fifteen meters or so, and someone or something had planned on not having them fall on any of the blond-wood-and-glass houses. Big redwoods were maybe half a klick away and I wondered how that had come to pass.

There was a clutter of private vehicles and another CVA in front of a house whose large trees were supplemented by some only five or six meters high. I imagined the view from inside the house would be green all over until almost Yule.

The CVA stopped in front of that house and I alighted. Obviously the picnic was outside and out of sight. A gentleperson - one whose face was dark and lined as if they had spent most of their life on a tennis court - opened the door. “Good afternoon, my name is Ash Boakye, he/him.” “Welcome, Ash, I’m Sandra Fugate, she/her, and James’ aunt. May I take you through? James is in the open space.” “Thank you, Sandra.” No flags on Sandra.

I took my shoes off. “You’ll want to keep them with you, thanks.” So we padded through a house that was evidently given over to music. A large, old piano; several woodwinds and brasses, and stringed instruments on the walls. Teetering stacks of sheet music. Even I know who Toulouse-Lautrec was and a couple tens of his prints were intermingled with the strings. “Most of James’ immediate family are musicians.” “Which do you play?” “Viola, cello, piano, but I’m an amateur.”

The open space - similar to the front lawn - went on for maybe a klick in both directions. “Everyone wonders when they see this place. It is a collective community within the Collective. Original residents - the Clarks included - agreed that all the green space would be left open to all. They’re all fruit trees - the land had been an orchard and the principle remained but the trees vary. It helps residents get to know one another because you can collect a lot of fruit if you walk around back here.” “Who takes care of it?” “We all pitch in.”

People were sitting in little groups, mostly in the partial shade of the fruit trees. James had been walking and gesturing to a couple of his friends (something in their walk or mannerisms led me to that conclusion, I wasn’t sure how) and he introduced me to Kyle (they/them) and Kara (she/her) White, their family newly accepted in RTC. Brown-eyed blondes with identical hair styles - almost twins in appearance and, I suspected, tennis players too. Lots of dilated pupils and hitches of breath all around. James - slim, without the wedge shape of Ali, is a bottom, likes to suck cock (of course I’d not known that when we were in fifth year). “Ash, will you sit with us for a few? We already have a basket and blankets. And you’ll want to put your shoes back on. This is an old orchard and now and then nails and broken parts of saw blades appear as the grass grows up.” I put my shoes on. “How did you do that?” asked Kara. “What?” “You stood there, raised your foot and simply buckled the shoe on without hopping around.” “Oh,” I said, “I’m pretty stable. Years of yoga.” “I’ve never seen such control so casually applied.” “It’s ... it becomes part of a lot of people, and I suppose we get used to it.”

We got to their arrangement of picnic items, James started to affirm but stopped. He sat, we sat and Kara and Kyle exchanged a look. “When we got here we knew we were in a place that would surprise us. There wasn’t yoga, as far as I know, in Edmonton.” I smiled. “There probably was - probably called ‘hatha’ if specified at all - and that is applied widely. I am in a different ‘school’ of yoga, called Iyengar.” “I’ve never heard of it.” “This interests you? I apologize, but I’m observant and the tennis jewelry you’re both wearing says you share a pursuit with James’ aunt.” James said “yep, a lot of our family plays. Do you?” “I have never tried.”

James started handing around plates with beautiful little sandwiches on them, then crudités, then glasses of a white I didn’t know. James picked up his glass, raised it silently, we drank. He took a bite, we took bites. I realized how ingrained our habits are. The sandwiches seemed to vary - herring, sausage, roast some-kind-of-beef.

“Ash, do you do any dynamic sports?” “One. I do martial arts. It’s not really a sport, like judo is, but it has some similarities.” “Forgive me, I just made a connection. You’re the short man who knocked Jon Anderson down for grabbing you. We heard about that. Thanks. Do you know football?” “Can’t follow it. Violence punctuated by meetings.” They laughed. Kara said “In Edmonton it’s widely played, and the man you knocked down was a quarterback. He was in our school there, and when he grabbed me while I was walking home all I could do was scream.” “I hope he didn’t hurt you.” “He did, a little, then three other men made him stop, so I was lucky. Anyway, when I heard Jon had his ass kicked by a much smaller person I jumped up and down. Thanks. Ash, I would like to hug you.” “Kara, I would like you to touch me socially. Please touch me socially.” “Oh, sorry. Ash, I would like you to touch me socially. Please touch me socially.” So Kara hugged me. Then I exchanged permissions with Kyle and finally James.

We ate a little more and they wanted to talk more about yoga. “Um, Ash?” I nodded in the hope I could finish this bite. “What does it take to get into yoga?” “I’m surprised you’re this interested, but you come to Maya’s studio, you talk about what Iyengar is and then you take her classes, or you don’t.” “We’re both interested because of how much control you have over your kinæsthetics. In a sport like tennis the better those are, the less energy you waste and the better you set up your shot.”

“Hmm. Yoga isn’t like a training, it’s like a becoming. You’d have to talk quite a bit with Maya.” “Why? Are there qualifications or something?” “It isn’t exactly like that. She will say things people call woo-woo or spiritual and she ... has to. I think you can’t separate the woo-woo stuff - like the fact ‘namaste’, which we say together at the end of class, means ‘I bow to the divine in you’ - from the rest of yoga, it all sticks together.”

“Why does that even matter?” “Because you need to at least be open to having your manner of living change. If you approach it like weight lifting, as a thing you do subsidiary to something else, Iyengar isn’t for you.”

“This took a left turn. I’m surprised and I don’t mean to offend, but I don’t do sky guys.” “Neither do I. You know how we say ‘karma is real’? I believe it is and it doesn’t depend on sky guys. It depends on you, me, us. Unless you’re a sociopath you know when you have done harm and I am quite sure that knowledge lives inside you and eats away at your center until, ultimately, you make amends.”

There was a degree of lip-chewing and squirming. “Okay”, said Kyle, “what you’re saying is there’s a tincture of spirituality that sticks to yoga and we would at least have to be willing to give it a chance?” “That’s it. It isn’t a division-by-zero error like faith, at least I think it isn’t. It’s that being open to some of the ideas can affect the way you look at yourself, the rest of humanity and the universe as a system. Your body and mind need to be aligned. That’s what yoga’s about.”

As we’d been eating I realized I hadn’t had much time to speak with James, just the two of us, but this seemed to be nothing more than a friendly picnic - not so much trying to get introductions as to enjoy sitting in this orchard, eating and chatting with gentlefolk. That’s when he asked about the Neeps pictures. “I don’t know how they came to be. If I’d been recognizable they’d have been over the line, so whomever started the rumor it was ... my friend and I ... could have caused problems for Neeps.” “Did you ever sign up for an account?” “No, pictures of people don’t help me and I am afraid the conversation’s a bit vacuous.” “What’s Neeps, James?” asked Kyle. “Um. Remember not to pull your devices out at a picnic, OK?” Kyle and Kara nodded. “It’s a board invented even before the web - a ‘bulletin board system’ or BBS, but it had images which at that time was unusual. It’s Collective-centric and we don’t accept too much traffic outside, but outside people who behave themselves are tolerated. Anyway, there are pictures of who are said to be Ash and one of his friends on a date.” “What’s the matter with that?” “Dating clothes are revealing and the people on the date are ... equipped ... with clothing that excite them and keep them excited.” “We’ll have to check it out. This really isn’t Edmonton, James.” “It isn’t. When I visited, I thought it was kind of raw but what it really is, is anxiety. People think about what others think of them until it’s a giant feedback loop of people trying to get other people to attend them.” “What a bizarre way of thinking”, said Kara. “I pretty much didn’t worry, as I don’t here, and that was seen as somehow slagging the city when the city and I owed one another nothing at all.” “And you owe something to the Collective?” “Definitely.” I nodded and he continued. “We are expected to be honorable and we expect the same from others. We defend one anothers’ rights even if, for example, we won’t stay to listen to people whose opinions we aren’t interested in. Minors and majors care for seniors, and so on.” “A big happy family” said Kyle. I stared at him. “Subtract the snark and you have it pretty accurately.”

I decided to shift groups but James laid his hand on my arm. “Please, Ash. They’re new.” “I know. I mistrust the good wishes of anyone sneering at my home when they also want to live there, though it’s their right - childish as I find it.” I finished my statement staring at Kyle. James patted my arm. “I’m glad to have seen you today, Ash.” “And I, you, James, Kyra. Thank you for having me at your picnic, James. Be well.”

Hissing erupted as I left. I took a slow tour around and briefly greeted Cat Jones (he/him, socials, two years, not flagging) and Susan Arakawa. “Will you have a glass with us?” asked Susan (she/her, no permissions, since year two, flagging top, nothing specific). “I’d be delighted.”

I settled and noticed pupillary dilation and a couple other markers of interest - wow, no one’s going to comment but they got the pony-girl earrings and my flags and that started me thinking of seeing Beck. My nipples rose, awkward time for that. I knew Cat only from the last couple years and I knew him to be a mec - a solid gentleperson. I was less certain of Susan: she had a bit of pretense to her manner and I wondered what was happening here. I made sure my extra senses were off, good thing because she asked for socials in a sweet way: “Ash, we’ve known one another forever and I never got to know you except superficially.” “It’s not your fault. Until recently I hadn’t known anyone except superficially and I go about making amends.” “I can think of nothing for which you’d offer or I would accept amends, but please, Ash, touch me socially. I would like you to touch me socially...” So we went through the ritual and she took my hand and Cat’s; and the circle closed when Cat took my other hand.

Wow. Even though I had my senses off I felt Susan sort of ... probing me. I relaxed, attempting to remain calm and act ignorant; I felt some frustration from Susan - this is weird, I must have been doing it right and how did I know to? - and Cat was just Cat, nothing on the way from him. It left something mentally akin to a mouth full of bitter squash when we released our hands and Cat said “Do you know Jem Chinen?” “Heard of them, don’t recall meeting.” “He’s the third member of Manzanita, I’d hoped today we could all get acquainted and maybe leave the picnic together.” Code for intimacy. “Um. I’m not sure why you’ve asked again, though I’m flattered. It’s been no more than a handful of days since I started doing intimate permissions and it’s been overwhelming.” “We might be able to help you navigate it, Ash.” said Susan. “I’m not lacking for help, I’m imagining four playing and can’t place where everything goes.” They laughed. “Well, we might have to wait longer before you’ll give in and try us, but we certainly hope to do that soon.”

Cat changed the subject. “Come to my recital, please, Ash?” “Um, it would be rude of me to flash my phone, would you tell me the date and I’ll remember?” “L1/8, 1700, the shell at the Square?” “Delighted. What kind of recital?” “Dance. This is the first dance recital I will perform entirely in toe-shoes.”

“I would like to know more about toe-shoes.” Cat laughed. “You’d look awesome in those; take a couple dance classes.” “A ... friend ... wants to teach me to wear them.” He and Susan looked at one another and rolled their eyes. “In date clothes and pointe shoes you would end up in everyone’s fantasy catalog.” “I know an incentive when I hear one, Cat, please go on.”

“It’s in training the arches of your feet, and your ankles, and the selection of your shoes, that - if you attend to them - you might be able to walk a few tens of meters in toe shoes in a week, or do a soft dance number on stage. Done well it is incredibly erotic. Hmm, picnic rules, I shouldn’t go further. Meet me? I would love to talk with you about that.” “I will.” “L1/5, the Wednesday, my place, 1000?” “Sure, thanks, Cat.” We swapped digits and coordinates.

Thunder, then rain. We all gathered up everyone’s blankets and started ordering CVAs. I found James briefly. “Thanks, again, this picnic was fun.” “Glad to see you, Ash.” I knew I’d not be here again.

I ended up sharing a CVA with a few gentlefolk and I was next-to-last in the list of drop-offs so I fell silent twiddling my tablet.

Eris:

>Hi, Ash, we are headed to Spud Point now! It got rough earlier than we thought and we’re going aboard Dream to take care of her. I’m sorry the weather didn’t work out this time, and hope you won’t think it anything but rotten luck. -ErisApple