Free Something True by Karelia Stetz-Waters Page B

and put it on the table.
    â€œ Collected Works of Hegel ,” she read as she lifted the first book out of the box. “ The Homesteader’s Guide to Compost . Fight Club. ” She read out a few more titles. “Will these do?”
    â€œPerfect,” Tate said. She passed Jeanette Winterson’s Sexing the Cherry to Laura. “This is good.” For herself, she took A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. She opened it, took a swig of her kava—it really was disgusting—and pretended to read.
    Apparently bored after fifteen seconds of silence, Dayton said, “What are we doing?”
    Tate glanced over the top of her book.
    â€œI’m showing you Portland.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œHere,” Tate said. “Your friend made it very clear you’ve done your research, so I’m going to show you something you can’t get from a spreadsheet.”
    Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Laura. A slight smiled pulled at the corner of her eyes. She was curious.
    â€œWe are going to sit here until this place closes,” Tate went on. “We’re going to sit and listen and read these books and drink this kava and just be . Because that’s part of Portland. Sure there are people getting ahead and working overtime and going balls to the wall every day, but those guys over there…” Tate pointed to the hookah smokers. “Fifty bucks says they’ve been here all day, and they’ll be here all night. People here know how to live, or at least they know there is a difference between living and working. And you can’t see it on a spreadsheet, and you can’t see it if you don’t slow down.”
    Craig sighed.
    â€œAre we really going to do this?” he asked Laura.
    Laura took another sip of her kava.
    â€œI am,” Laura said.
    Laura opened the book Tate had given her, and Dayton and Craig fell into disgruntled silence. She was the boss. Tate saw it again. The men could not move without her permission—and they weren’t happy about it. Dayton flipped through book after book, sighing as though each page personally offended him with its dullness. Craig folded his arms and glared at the bowl of kava.
    Then suddenly, Dayton said, “My lips.” He poked his lips. “My lips are numb. I can’t feel my lips. My tongue is all fuzzy. Is your tongue fuzzy?”
    â€œDon’t,” Laura said without looking up from her book.
    â€œNo, I’m serious. Something’s wrong. I’m going all numb.”
    Tate glanced from Laura to Dayton.
    â€œIt’s probably an allergic reaction,” Laura said.
    â€œYou don’t feel it?” Dayton asked. “Aw shit, man, this is messed up!”
    Laura shook her head.
    â€œI need a Benadryl. Do my lips look swollen?” He stuck his tongue out. “My tongue?”
    â€œIt’s still there,” Laura said, deadpan.
    â€œI’m not kidding!” Dayton started tapping his phone. “I’ve got to get help.”
    â€œCraig,” Laura said with utter indifference. “Why don’t you take Dayton back to the hotel? Get him some Benadryl before the inflammation gets into his brain.”
    When they were gone, Laura turned to Tate.
    â€œMy lips are numb,” she said.
    â€œYou were messing with him!” Tate did not expect someone with such good posture to be devilish. Tate reached out and touched two fingers to Laura’s lips. Her hand trembled.
    â€œCan you feel that?” Tate asked.
    She expected Laura to flinch, but she didn’t. She just looked scared. Tate withdrew her touch.
    â€œYes, but it doesn’t feel right.” Laura touched her own lips.
    â€œYou didn’t read the menu, did you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou better text Dayton,” Tate said. “It’s supposed to do that. It’s got a mild anesthetic in it.”
    â€œMilky anesthetic water with twigs in