15F – Go Team

He sat there in the dark, adjusted his blindfold, almost lifted it. It was tempting, but beneath him somehow. He’d stick this one out just on principle.

Goddam group activities. At least these things showed them how much they relied on him. Even Brendan, who was supposed to be organising this mess. Brendan, the alleged trainer, trying to pull the rope bridge together, failing, that same look on his face; crumpled, defeated, probably close to tears. Just like in the office. Brendan was no leader. But he was.

They were all wearing him down, Brendan and the rest of the Team Members. It was like tennis – you hang around people who never challenge you, never test your limits and your game gets soft. Meanwhile he was lifting the game of everyone in the building, not that anyone stopped to thank him for it.

Brendan started to speak, his voice wavering and a touch nervy.

“This exercise will be the last of the day. It’s a simple one. All you have to do is stay in this shed, blindfolds on, for an hour.”

Brilliant. Another stroke of genius. He settled in for the wait.

“There’s only one rule. No matter what happens, even if you feel a little frightened…”

Oh please.

“You must keep your blindfolds on.”

He heard the door slam shut, and listened as Brendan’s ridiculous hiking boots tromped away. God, what a day. They’d had the tower building, the fall backwards business, the river crossing puzzle, but this had to be the worst of it. Blindfolds.

Still, no matter how ridiculous the situation, someone needed to show some leadership. And he wasn’t the type to look for that elsewhere.

“Ok, lets get this show on the road, shall we?”

“How, exactly? We’re not really supposed to do anything in this one.”

Sounded like Sharon, nasally and just a touch whiny. Rule 4 – never let dissension go unanswered.

“Typically intelligent response there Sharon, we’re obviously supposed to communicate in some manner, or this wouldn’t be a team building exercise, would it? Let’s at least give Brendan that much credit.”

He wasn’t sure it was due, but he let him have it anyway.

“Now lets start by getting this organised. Who’s sitting where? And don’t all speak at once”

“Simon, over here.”

“Jane”

A pause, then “Sharon”.

“Kirsty.”

“Rich”

He waited. There was supposed to be one more.

“Pete, you there?”

A thought occurred to him.

“Pete, are you not answering because you’re playing some kind of role in this exercise? Because let me just say right now that if you are, your bonus is really gone. I mean it, gone.”

No response. That would have worked if he’d been here.

“Ok, no Pete. Must have sat this one out.”

A breeze had started to kick up outside, and the roof was creaking, twisting slightly in the wind.

“What do you think we’re supposed to be doing, Blair?”

Ah. Jane. Jane was new. He liked Jane. She was ambitious, more ambitious that the rest of them put together. One of those younger kids, the type you want to see go far, take under your wing.

It didn’t hurt that she was stunning.

“Don’t know Janey, but I suspect that this is all about communication or something.”

“So we should all talk to each other?”

Sharon again. Brilliant.

“Yes Sharon, that would appear to be the kind of thing.”

“What if we all said something we admired about each other?”

My god, were they all really like this? He wanted to object, but Sharon was already talking.

“Simon, the thing I’ve always admired about you is that you never lose you cool, no matter how stressful things get”.

There was no response. Simon clearly wasn’t buying this either. Not as dumb as he looked. She tried again.

“Simon? It’s your turn now hon.”

Above them the iron of the roof twisted and creaked.

“Ok, quick name check. Who’s here?”

“Jane”

“Sharon”

“Rich”

“Where’s Kirsty?”

He thought he heard a soft thud to his left. His hand involuntarily slipped to the blindfold, but he forced it back down. He wasn’t going to be intimidated. If this was the game, then he’d find a way to break it. The answer was obvious, if a little nauseating, but he wasn’t opposed to doing unpleasant things to win.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to hold hands. Move in to the centre, follow the sound my voice.”

He could hear them scraping their way towards him across the rough wooden floor. To his right, he felt a hand grope his knee in the darkness and then grab his hand.

“That’d be Sharon, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes Blair.”

No Jane. How’s that for bad luck.

His left was grabbed by another hand, rougher, masculine. Rich.

“Rich, that you? You got Janey on your other side there?”

Rich paused for a second.

“No, I think I’ve got Sharon.”

“Janey? You out there?”

Rich let go of his hand, started patting the floor next to him. He heard him slide off to his left, calling for Jane as he went. Then he stopped calling.

“Sharon, you hang on to Rich’s other hand there, yes?”

Sharon started to whimper, a miserable, pathetic sort of sound.

“He let go.”

This was incredible. Such an obvious premise and they were still losing. Sharon was freaking out. He grabbed both her hands, pulled her closer towards him.

“Come on Sharon, just stay with it. This is what this one is all about, see how much we look after each other, ok? So long as you and I hang on, we win, ok?”

He felt Sharon’s grip tighten. There was a violent pull, and then his hands were empty. He groped forward, surprised. Surely that was against the rules. He stopped and listened, tried to get a sense of who was around him. Someone was breathing, just a few feet in front of him, laboured but controlled.

He nudged his blindfold up over his eyes. Brendan was standing there, watching him, toying with a knife, waiting to complete the lesson.