What is this? What’s going on?

It’s so quiet that I bring a hand up to my ear to feel if I’m wearing my noise-canceling headphones, but I’m not.

Still, no one speaks. Including me. I could say something. I could be the one to talk, to break the ice, but I don’t.

It’s windier today. I can see it moving the branches of the trees outside. It’s pretty. No leaves on the trees, just bare boughs and twigs. They must be so old, the trees. They’ve been here much longer than this house.

“Jack?” Shelley says, breaking the silence.

I turn from the window, to her. I didn’t know Jack was in the hall. Why wasn’t he at breakfast? Why is he waiting out there?

“Jack, you can come in now, please.”

I’m the only one to turn toward the doorway. Jack walks in but doesn’t say anything.

“Closer,” she says.

He obeys, stepping closer, walking past me and toward her. Our eyes meet briefly. Shelley rises to her full height. She’s several inches taller than he is. The gap between them looks greater than I thought it was. She picks up a chair and carries it into the center of the half circle.

“Have a seat.”

Jack, in his white scrubs, hesitates, then sits down nervously, one leg bouncing. I look at Hilbert, Pete, and then Ruth. They’re all focused intently on Jack. They look disappointed. It’s as if they’ve all taken on Shelley’s disposition.

“You never get to participate in our discussions,” she says. “I’m sorry you got left out.”

He stares at the ground and clears his throat.

“Why don’t you share something with us?”

He’s antsy. He can’t sit still.

“Like what?” he asks, making eye contact with her. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like what you did before working here.”

What did he do to upset her? Why is she confronting him, in front of us, like this? Is it possible she saw him the same way I did? Upset, scared, wretched, drinking wine. Is she trying to make a point?

“I was unemployed,” he says.

“Were you living with anyone?”

“No.”

I don’t like how she’s talking to him. It’s aggressive. I’m feeling uncomfortable for Jack. For all of us.

“What was your place like?”

“Where I lived?”

“Yes.”

“Small.”

“Cozy?”

Ruth is about to speak when Shelley holds up her hand. “Just let Jack speak for now, Ruth.”

“No,” he says. “It was a crappy place.”

Shelley stands and walks toward the window. She stands there in the sun, looking out at the forest.

“Do you like it here? With us?”

“Yes.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I get to work and live and be part of the group.”

“You get to work here. Earn a real living. It’s a privilege. Everyone needs a purpose. Our work fulfills us.”

“I’m lucky to have this job,” he says.

Shelley turns back with a bright grin on her face. Her eyes are glowing. I’ve never seen her smile so widely.