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By Root 513 0

is, I knew this could have been a question, I knew it was coming. I should have prepared. I realize that I’m standing frozen in front of everyone, so much like a deer in headlights, and right then, before I’m able to do anything about it, I think of the Rothko. I think how the problems of the present can be just as hard, if not harder, than the problems of the past. I take a deep breath. I turn and head right back to my seat, hoping with every part of my being that Beth Anne doesn’t say, “You should try again because you hardly came close to taking the room.” Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything and I am allowed back to my seat. The firestorm has spread from my brain to my chest and stomach. I wish I were alone, not only because then I’d be alone, but also because then, I could lay my head on the desk part of my chair-desk, just until this feeling goes away. I’m sure that once everyone has gotten up and said what they do—that is when they’re not smack dab in the middle of a nervous breakdown over the fact that they can’t speak in public—I will get a special mention as the worst one. I’m sure that Beth Anne will pull me aside and ask if perhaps I’d like to work with her privately.

As I focus on the floor, out of the corner of my eye, I see Alec get up from his seat next to me. He takes his position at the front of the room, in front of the large metal desk that I wish I could crawl underneath, just really stealthily so that no one would notice. I look up at Alec and notice again how strikingly tall, dark, and handsome he is. The tall, dark, handsomeness distracts my heart from its mission of beating right out of my chest. In a reversal of the usual effect of seeing someone so very good-looking, the pace of my pulse begins to slow.

He doesn’t look at anyone and begins to speak right away. “Uh, uh, I’m Alec, and I’m an attorney. Uh, I’m here because public speaking gets me very hot under the collar.” He smiles wanly and looks to Beth Anne, who nods a stoic approval. He heads back to his seat, and I think he did so much better than me, and I have to remind myself that this is not a contest. And, even if this is in fact a contest, it isn’t a fair one, because Alec isn’t as hindered as I am by frizzing hair.

Rachel, with the very frizzing hair, walks quickly to the front, stares out at us with her freaky eyes. Really, so blank and so glazed. She opens her mouth to speak, and a long, slow gurgle comes out. I think a little bit of validity has just been added to my frizzing-hair/poor-public-speaking-ability theory. Perhaps all either of us needs is a good blow-out. The gurgle ends, and she returns to her seat. Beth Anne, to her credit, does not ask her if she’d like to try again. The thin French woman glides gracefully to the front.

“I am Martine. I am director of New York City Board of Le Lait. We work very hard to get le message out about the importance of, how do you say, how do you say, breast-feeding. I must work on speaking public.” Martine, out of everyone, I feel has done very well.

Amy, blond and punky, stands up with an exaggerated exhale, and clomps to the front of the room. “I’m Amy. I’m a novelist,” she says and pauses, and exhales again. She seems to me so much less nervous than just really put out. I wonder what her last name is, what she wrote. “I’m here to practice for readings,” she tells us with a huff and trudges back to her seat.

“I’m Lindsay,” the first pantsuit girl says softly, her hands clasped together. “I’m an accountant, I work at a big accounting firm. This thing happened a few years back, this e-mail thing, and I’d rather not talk about it, but ever since then, I’ve had a really hard time, um, um”—she reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ears, one side and then the other—“I’ve had a really hard time with presentations.” I wonder what happened. I am amazed by her endurance because rather than returning to her seat, she continues. “Jessica, here”—she gestures to her pantsuited twin—“is doing this with me because she knows how hard this is for me, and she’s a really great friend.” She smiles