by Simon Archer
“It’s a little like the same thing,” I said as we neared a booth belonging to a small yoga studio. There were yoga mats, organic cotton t-shirts, incense, and candles displayed in neat rows and groups. Standing in the middle of the booth was a tiny woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in yoga pants and a tank top. Her wrists were covered in multi-colored beaded bracelets, and her skin looked like she’d never used sunscreen a day in her life.
“Namaste, friends,” the woman said to us. “My name is Lisa. Welcome to Total Calm Wellness. Have you visited us before?” Kennedi looked at me and smiled like a little kid who was just asked if they wanted cotton candy.
“We have not,” Kennedi said, turning her attention to Lisa. “What do you do?” Kennedi’s question obviously caught Lisa off guard. She looked at me and then back to Kennedi. You’d have thought she’d never met anyone who wasn’t familiar with alternative wellness.
“We do yoga and meditation,” Lisa started, looking back at Kennedi. “Have you ever taken a yoga class?”
“Oh! Okay! Yoga, I’ve heard of that!” Kennedi started looking around the booth at the different merchandise. “What exactly is the point of meditation, though?”
“Well, it’s to clear your mind, of course.” Lisa looked a little more at ease now. “It is wonderful for focus and spiritual clarity.” Kennedi paused and looked at Lisa for a moment. She raised an eyebrow and tipped her head slightly.
“How can you focus if you effectively clear out your thought processes?” Kennedi had a point that I’d never thought of, from a literal standpoint. Lisa, once again, looked puzzled.
“Once you clear your mind, you experience a calm that allows you to pick what you want to think about instead of being bombarded by uncontrolled, random thoughts and emotions,” Lisa tried to explain. Kennedi wasn’t that easily put off, though.
“But a very large portion of thought is created as a reaction to outside stimulus and situations,” Kennedi started. “Are you saying that if I do yoga, and clear my mind somehow, that I’ll be able to control everything around me?” Kennedi’s tone was deadly serious, as though she was investigating a new possibility. I took a step back and crossed my arms. Watching Lisa squirm under the questioning of her practices was entertaining enough, but watching Kennedi, in all her naivete, simply made me happy.
“No, dear,” Lisa said. “You’ll never be able to control everything that happens to you, but you will be able to control how you react to it.”
“Did you not have control of your reactions before you started doing yoga?” Kennedi’s question wasn’t meant to be insulting, but judging by the look on Lisa’s face, she was getting offended by Kennedi’s lack of instant belief in her services.
“I did, yes.” Lisa thought for a long moment with a half-frown on her face. Then her face perked up a bit. “It’s a human thing, you may not be able to understand because of the difference in the way you think,” she said. She put her hands on her hips and smiled as though she’d won some sort of prize.
Without any sort of pause, Kennedi replied, “So right now, because you do yoga, you’ve chosen to focus on my differences from humans?”
“Well, no. I wasn’t focusing on it,” Lisa stammered.
“But you said yoga lets you clear your mind so you can focus on what you want to think about and control your actions,” Kennedi reasoned. She paused and then added, “I get it now! You talk about what yoga can do, but don’t do it yourself! That makes perfect sense.”
I watched as Lisa’s face started to turn bright red. She opened her mouth several times to rebut Kennedi’s conclusion, but words escaped her. As amused as I was, I knew Kennedi would be upset if she thought she’d angered the woman, so I stepped forward and took Kennedi by the arm.
“Let’s move on. We have a lot of booths to visit,” I whispered in her ear. Her ears turned forward, and she smiled. I looked up at Lisa. “We appreciate the information.” Lisa didn’t say anything. She just stood there, staring at me. Kennedi turned to say goodbye.
“Absolutely, we appreciate you!” Kennedi paused. She’s seen the expression and coloring of Lisa’s face, and I could tell she had recognized that the booth owner wasn’t happy. Before she could offer any sort of solution or condolences for Lisa’s upset, I pulled on Kennedi’s arm and directed her back to the blue path.
As we started to walk away, I turned to Lisa and said, “You are correct about the thought processes being different in an artificial intelligence program. Perhaps one day you’ll develop a different form of yoga, for cat girls and the way their minds work. You seem experienced and enlightened enough to do it.” I left it at that. I really didn’t feel an apology was necessary for the challenges Kennedi had thrown Lisa’s way, but this was Leah’s foundation event, and I didn’t want a participant to be left with a frustrated perception of CGs.
Kennedi smiled up at me as we strolled down the path to the next booth. I put my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, and she wrapped her tail around my waist. I’d never quite been able to put my finger on why I simply needed her to be happy. There was just something about the way she helped me look at life from a different perspective. I looked down at her and watched the way her eyes darted from here to there, taking in all the newness of things she’d never experienced before. Then I saw her ears turn forward, and I felt her perk up. She unwrapped her tail from around my waist and grabbed my hand as she darted forward, pulling me with her.
11
“Where are you going, Kennedi?” I had no idea what had piqued her interest.
“Look at what that guy is doing!” she said without looking back. “It’s so beautiful!” I followed her gaze, which was riveted on a booth fifteen feet ahead of us. Inside was an old man sitting on a stool, blowing glass.
“The glassblower?” I wanted to confirm I was looking in the same place she was. Before she had time to answer, she had pulled me all the way to the booth.
“Yes!” she whispered excitedly. She stopped just short of the front of the booth and held her arm out to make sure I stopped as well. Laid out before us was a large table full of delicately created glass figurines. The detail in each one was remarkable. I had seen glass-blown art before, but nothing of the quality sitting before me.
“These are incredible,” I said as I leaned down to get a closer look.
The table was sectioned off for different types of figures. There were sections for animals, mythical creatures, tiny houses, and trees. The table shone as the sunlight danced off the glass. I gently picked up one of the figures to examine it. It was a weeping willow tree and was so realistic that had it been life-size, the only thing distinguishing it from a real tree would be that it was see-through. There were even knots and lines in the tree trunk, but what made it different was that the detail was actually blown into the glass, not etched in after.
“That is one of my favorites to make.” The old man had gotten up and walked over to stand on the opposite side of the table. He had a full head of gray hair, deep blue eyes, and walked with a slight limp. He held his hand out and waited while I returned the tree to its spot before clasping his hand. “My name is Samuel.”
“Hi, Samuel, it’s nice to meet you.” We shook, and then he pulled his hand away. “I’m Clark, and this is Kennedi. Your work is astonishing.”
Samuel smiled and glanced down at his creations proudly. “Thank you!” He looked back up at Kennedi and me. “These are the only things I’ve been to do every day that I never got tired of.”
“They are so exquisite,” Kennedi whispered in awe. Samuel chuckled at her.
“I appreciate that, Kennedi,” Samuel said. “Do you see one you like best?”
Kennedi suddenly looked confused. “How does anyone pick just one favorite?”
“Well,” Samuel started. “They usually begin with something they like already. For example, my favorite animal is the tiger. So, I would look for tigers and see which one made my eyes the happiest.” Kennedi looked up at me,
still confused. I was positive the next thing out of her mouth would be something to do with an eyeball’s inability to feel emotion.
“What he means is, when you look at a specific one, does it make you feel something?” I tried to clarify. “Do you remember something happy, or does it make you look forward to something good in the future?”
“Oh!” Her face returned to smiling, and she pointed to one of the figures. “I like the little dome with all the stars on it!” I hadn’t seen the one she was pointing at. It was a perfect half circle of glass that had the tiniest, individually blown stars all over it. Some of the stars couldn’t have been any bigger than a single melee diamond. Each was perfectly shaped and reflected light in ways I’d never seen before.
“Why do you like that one?” Samuel obviously had been selling his figures for a very long time. A question like that, meant to solidify emotional attachment to an object, was a sure-fire way to up the chances of a sale. He wasn’t ungenuine in his question, though. I could see that he truly did want to know.
Kennedi smiled up at me and then looked over to Samuel and answered without a pause. “It reminds me of the first time I saw stars in a different way. I’ve always known what they were, what they were made of, how they lived and died, what causes their light. What I didn’t know, before Clark took me to just look at them, was how simply beautiful they were.” I thought back to the night I had taken Kennedi to lay in the desert, in the middle of the night, to wash away a stressful day with the serenity of one of nature’s most stunning creations. I was certain it was her first experience relaxing just for the sake of relaxing.
“That is a perfect memory to belong to a piece like that one,” Samuel said with a smile.
“How much is it?” I started to reach for my wallet. There was no way Kennedi was leaving here without that dome.
“That is the only one I’ve done like that,” Samuel said, almost as if he was reminiscing about his own favorite memory. “I’ll let it go for seventy.”
“Just seventy?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was shocked. A piece like that could have easily sold for two-hundred or more.
Samuel laughed as he reached for a nearby roll of bubble wrap. “I don’t make these to get rich,” he said. “I make them to bring beauty to peoples’ homes and hearts.” It was the statement that only an old man could make without sounding awkward or forced.
“Look, Samuel, let me ask you this,” I said as an idea popped in my head. “Is Leah charging for the booth?” I wasn’t positive of the structure with which Leah had decided to raise money with the event.
“She is,” Samuel answered, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“How much is she charging?” I felt a little uncomfortable asking because my experience had taught me that men Samuel’s age weren’t conditioned to talking about finances with strangers. I saw an opportunity though and wanted to take advantage of the possibility to make this man’s day the way he’d made Kennedi’s eyes light up. Samuel paused for a moment, and I held my breath, hoping that he was going to answer instead of taking offense. His face turned from questioning to serious.
“The booth rate for this size space is eight-hundred and fifty,” he said cautiously. “Again, why do you ask?”
“Because I’d like to comp your booth space in trade for the figurine.” I nodded at Kennedi’s hands, which were holding the delicate work of art. Samuel’s face didn’t move for a good ten seconds, during which time I was back to hoping I hadn’t offended him.
Finally, his expression softened slightly, and he said, “If it will ensure that this young lady gets to take that dome home, I’ll do it. However, it’ll have to be the figure and glass-blowing lessons. You can use the lessons yourselves or gift them, but they must be part of the deal.” Samuel crossed his arms and waited for my reply.
“You’ve got it,” I said. I liked Samuel. He knew his worth but chose to give the world beauty instead of exploiting people for the highest dollar amount. He also wasn’t going to take anything he hadn’t earned.
“I’ll get that wrapped up for you,” Samuel said as though nothing unusual had just happened. He held out his hand, and Kennedi placed the dome in it. She clasped her hands together and started mini-bouncing with excitement. She looked up at me with one of the happiest smiles I’d ever seen on her face.
“Thank you, thank you!” she squealed quietly. I assumed the lower-than-normal volume of her voice was due to the nearby glass. The sheer amount of it being so close created a kind of library-like environment that will keep anyone from getting rambunctious or too loud. I winked at her as she turned back to Samuel.
“I would love to learn how to blow glass from you!” Kennedi said. Samuel was taping the bubble wrap around the figure still.
“Do you want to get started now?” he asked without looking up from his wrapping. Kennedi shot a glance over at me, and I nodded my approval.
“Absolutely! What do I need to do?” she whispered excitedly. Samuel finished taping the bubble wrap, put the figure in a branded bag, and tucked tissue paper all around it. Then he handed to bag to me and held his hand out over the table to Kennedi.
“Come right around here,” he said. Kennedi took his hand, and he led her carefully around the table and into the depths of the booth and had her sit on a stool next to his. Samuel looked at me and motioned to a spare chair towards the side of the booth. “You’re welcome to sit and watch if you’d like,” he said. His demeanor was slowly becoming increasingly excited as he sat on his own stool. Beside him, towards the back of the booth, there were a series of furnaces and anneals for heating and cooling the glass.
“I’ve seen glass-blowing before, but never to your caliber,” I started. “I would love to observe.” I walked around the booth and took the chair he offered. He handed me a pair of safety glasses and gloves.
“Safety first,” Samuel said. “It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally glass likes to hop away from the pipet,” he said, chuckling a little. I took the equipment from him and put them on. Samuel turned to Kennedi and started handing her safety equipment as well. Once she was decked out, he rolled back on his stool and looked at her. He put his hand to his chin and thought for a second. Kennedi sat there, looking at him and waiting for more instruction.
“Do I have it all on correctly?” Kennedi adjusted her safety glasses. Samuel leaned forward and looked around the side of Kennedi’s stool.
“You do, but we have to figure one thing out,” Samuel started. “Do you ever use your tail to grab onto things?”
“Yes,” Kennedi replied. “Why?”
“Because if you grab onto molten glass with it, you’ll end up searing right through it,” Samuel told her. “More than once, I have reached for a falling piece of heated glass without a glove on just out of sheer instinct.” Kennedi looked back over her shoulder at her tail.
“I can simply wrap it around my waist.” In an instant, her tail was tightly wrapped around her waist multiple times. Samuel sat back and looked at her.
“You need to have it tucked under some sort of material,” Samuel said. Kennedi was wearing a crop top, so there was no way she would be able to cover her tail with her shirt. Samuel spun around on his stool and reached under a nearby tray stand. He pulled out a worn-out button-up shirt and handed it to Kennedi. “I keep this with me in case I need to change for some unseen reason. You can use it to tie around your waist.”
Kennedi took the shirt from his and fashioned it around her waist, tucking it in around her tail until she was completely covered.
“How is that?” She looked up at Samuel for approval of her cover-up.
“That will do,” Samuel started. “Now grab a drape off that peg behind you and put it on,” he instructed. Kennedi did as she was told. The drape looked like it was made of some type of leather and completely covered her legs and feet. Samuel looked her over one more time and nodded his approval.
“What is next?” Kennedi w
as all smiles.
Once Samuel had decided Kennedi was ready, his demeanor turned to excitement again. He waved her toward him. “Scoot up here to the block and let’s get started!”
Kennedi moved her stool up to the small hunk of metal that sat between them and listened intently as Samuel started pointing out the different tools and equipment she would be using. When he’d get done with his explanation of what one set of tools does, he’d quiz her and was outwardly surprised by the fact that he never had to tell her anything more than once.
When he’d covered all the equipment basics, the two of them went to work on Kennedi’s first project. They were making an old-fashioned thimble, and I found myself almost in a sort of trance while watching the process. From the heating of the materials with a blowtorch to the reheating in the glory hole furnace to using the marver for shaping the divets in the sides, I couldn’t take my eyes off the glass. The way it glowed and bubbled and twisted seemed so unnatural on the one hand, but completely normal on the other. It wasn’t until the main portion of the thimble was done and put in the annealer to cool that I blinked my way back to my surroundings.
“That was amazing to watch,” I said to Samuel while he was reorganizing his tools.
“Oh, we’re not done yet,” he replied without looking up. “There’s another detail, or two, that we are going to add.” His tone was all business, so I sat back in my chair and continued to watch.
Once he had his workstation reset, he pulled the thimble out of the annealer, set it on a nearby metal tray, and put a tiny pipe end into the glory hole. Then he opened a small leather bag that was sitting on the ground near his stool and pulled out two tiny sticks of glass. When I looked closer, I saw that each one was actually two strips of glass that had been twisted around each other. The total diameter of each twisted stick couldn’t have been any bigger than that of a sewing needle, and they looked like they would snap if you even breathed on them.