Page 75 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
He climbed it.
“Don’t—” I said.
He launched off of it.
There was a moment—one single, crystal clear moment—where the goat was airborne, all four legs extended, completely committed to the trajectory that ended on the back of Gerald, a sixty-something volunteer in a Phish T-shirt who had not signed up for this when he agreed to help with the yoga session.
Gerald went down like a very surprised domino, and the sound he made on impact was something language had not yet developed an adequate vocabulary for.
“Is he part of the demonstration?” Martha asked, grinning from her mat like she had front row seats to a comedy show she’d paid good money to see.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Grace said at the same time.
I stared at Grace.
She conveniently started stretching, facing away from me. Her shoulders were shaking with the humor she tried to hide.
“Then why is he on Gerald?” Gladys pointed out unhelpfully as I rushed over to help assist him. Chaos jumped off his back just before I reached him.
“Gerald,” I crouched beside him. “I apologize on behalf of the goat.”
“Is he okay?” Delaney appeared on Gerald’s other side, hand already extended.
“I’ve had worse,” Gerald said, from the floor as he waved us away. “I can get up on my own.”
“Take your time,” Delaney suggested.
“No rush,” I agreed.
We both stood over him in supportive silence while Chaos watched from three feet away with the detached curiosity of someone reviewing footage of an experiment that had gone largely as expected.
And this was why we’d required everyone to sign waivers.
I retrieved Chaos by the collar, and pointed him toward the corner of the room. Then I crouched to his level and waited until I had his full attention, which took approximately four seconds and one gentle hand on his jaw, redirecting him away from my shoelace.
“We’ve talked about this,” I said. “Twice. I’m going to need you to apply the information in real time.”
Chaos stared at me. Listening. Or whatever the goat equivalent of listening was.
“The chairs are not a runway. The yoga blocks are not food. The volunteers are not new terrain to climb. Gerald, specifically, should be left alone. I want you to stay away from him.” I pointed. “Person. Not a mountain.”
A pause. He shook his head.
“I understand you have energy. I understand that this environment is stimulating. I’m asking you to make a choice about what you do with that energy, and I’m asking you to do better.”
He blinked.
From somewhere behind me I was fairly certain I heard Delaney make a sound, and quickly suppressed it.
I ignored her.
“I know you understand me. You understand tone. You understand consequence. You’re choosing not to apply either of those things, and I need that to change because this program matters and you are—” I stopped and took a breath. “The biggest variable in a situation that can’t afford variables.”
Chaos held my gaze the whole time. With a little help from me, holding his face in place.
Then he yawned—slow and enormous and deeply unbothered—and trotted toward Glamma with me whispering after him. “No snacks when we get home if you can’t behave.”
