Play Nice

A story about adult friendships in the city of Thalonisia. Sort of.

She hated this part.

“Let’s go around the circle and everyone share something about themselves,” the organizer, Dimitri, said. He was a waify thirty-something. Lots of things wrapped around his wrists. Bracelets from concerts and little woven braids like some sort of occultish surfer. He pointed to the older couple to his left and they began sharing their stories. Useless data that Carlie let linger in the front of her brain.

Name.

Occupation.

Why they moved here.

They all blurred together quickly.

“And, you know, we were looking for places to move for a better life, and Thalonisia was a city that popped up as the contender every time. The weather, the people, the lifestyle, it just really suited us,” one of the women said. “And the politics back home, am I right?” Everyone chuckled.

Carlie began regretting this event. It was a simple social gathering for adults in the city. A scavenger hunt where they’d all look for objects that reminded them of home. Then they’d come back together in the circle and present them. She signed up for it on a whim. Locals were notoriously hard to connect with, and without a wife, kids, or a work-life, making friends became a chore. She decided to play along, to gamble on the possibility she’d make new connections, but now it felt more like Russian roulette.

She was one of them, sure, a migrant by choice who came to Thalonisia for a new life, who left her family and friends and took two bags to see what would happen. But she thought she’d find people who shared more than her expatriate status. She’d be forty next year. The idea of having no friends to celebrate with gutted her mildly. Fortunately, Thalonisia was beautiful enough and the lifestyle—such a cringe word—did suit her. But where were the people who wanted to have a real conversation, discuss real things, get deeper into life than just talking about the beautiful weather?

Dimitri encouraged everyone during their intros as they approached Carlie. An older man stuttered through his introduction, also citing the weather. The woman next to him chuckled about the weather, too.

Then it was Carlie’s turn.

“I’m Carlie. I’m an artist. And I moved here to challenge myself and immerse myself in something different from everything I knew,” she said. It was honest. But pretentious. She didn’t mean it to be.

“And how about the weather, too, right dear?” the older woman next to her added.

Jesus Christ.

“Yes, and also the weather was a huge draw to Thalonisia,” Carlie mumbled. Everyone cheered.

“Thank you for sharing,” Dimitri said, “and now if you’ll all go out along the waterfront and search for items or scenes reminding you of home, we’ll reconvene in an hour to discuss. Make sure you’re always in a pair, talking with someone, making a connection, and when you hear the whistle, change your partner. Let’s keep it fun and positive.” Carlie felt him looking at her. He blew his whistle and they paired off like oppositely charged atoms, suddenly forming fifteen couples who walked through the dirt paths and sandy stretches of water. It glittered black and smelled of methane.

A younger man stuck to Carlie. A tech type with fresh money, few experiences, and shallow conversation.

“So what are we looking for again?” he asked.

“Something that reminds you of home. Maybe a rock the color of your old house. Or a flower that grew in your family’s garden?” Carlie said.

“Maybe I’ll take a photo of the sun. It always reminds me of home,” he said.

“How?” she asked. “Everyone sees the sun. What’s so special about it?”

“Well the sun always woke me up in my bedroom as a kid,” he said. “And on sunny days, I’d go out and ride my bike or play with my friends.”

Carlie bit her tongue and prayed for the whistle.

“Don’t you just love the weather today?” the young guy said.

Dimitri blew the whistle mercifully and Carlie let someone else gravitate toward her. She forced a smile. The older woman, the wordy one from the circle, shook her hand firmly.

“You having fun yet?” she asked Carlie. “I found this leaf that looks just like a vine my grandmother used to have in her house. I can almost smell her cooking.”

“That’s beautiful,” Carlie said. Maybe she underestimated this woman. “How are you adjusting? Do you feel weird folding into the local population or are you making any headway?”

“Oh I don’t worry too much about integrating. I just wanted a nice calm place to retire,” she said. “I spent my life earning money and now I’m focusing on enjoying myself.

“Why did you wait until the end to start enjoying your life?” Carlie asked.

“What an invasive question,” the woman said. “Let’s keep it light and positive, like Dimitri said. Besides, how could you not enjoy yourself here with this weather?” she beamed.

“Right.”

“And what here reminds you of home?” the old woman said.

“Too much, actually.”

The whistle recharged the group’s molecular structure as they scattered and found new partners to walk with. Carlie strolled with a short woman like herself, mid-thirties maybe, no wedding band. She bypassed introductions.

“Can you believe how hard it is to learn the local language here? You’d think Thalonisians would just figure out how to speak English properly,” she said, coming in hard.

“Excuse me?” Carlie said.

“I took a class last month and I barely learned anything. Honestly I just can’t anymore,” the woman moaned. “I don’t need to speak it anyway.”

“Didn’t you, um, choose to live here?” Carlie asked.

“Yeah, but so what? I’m bringing my hard-earned money to Thalonisia. I can’t spend all my time learning to speak like them.” She reached for a pebble and skipped it across the water. “I think what reminds me of home here is the Relocation Shop. You been yet?”

“The store that sells canned food and drinks from home? Uh, no, I haven’t,” Carlie said.

“It’s got everything. They even stock my favorite chocolate bars.”

“Have you tried the chocolate here?” Carlie asked.

“Nah. I won’t like it. I’d rather get the stuff from back home.”

Then why in the hell did you move here in the first place? Carlie wanted to shout.

“So have you found anything else here—” she began to say.

“Oh my God the weather today, am I right? Like can you even? I just can’t. I need to take a pic,” the woman said.

Whistle please.

The interactions continued and Carlie found no objects or scenery reminding her of home. The whole point of coming here was not to recreate home. It was to find the new, the fresh, the different. This quest didn’t interest most of the people Carlie met. When Dimitri blew the whistle three times, they reconvened in the circle, sitting on the grassy knoll just beyond the waterfront, sharing their discoveries.

“I found the sun…”

“I found a vine…”

“I’m going to go get some chocolate later…”

Carlie read growing disappointment on Dimitri’s face, though a smile remained plastered in place. He looked to her, pleadingly.

“And you, Carlie, what did you find that reminds you of home?” he asked.

“Well, I, uh …” Eyes burned into her, hoping, craving some insight into her connection to the place they all abandoned willfully. What tether remained? How could they tie themselves to it, as well? What root could still nourish them from across the chasm they traveled, without having to plant that particular root here firmly, despite the amazing weather?

Physically, they all took the same journey here, but Carlie knew mentally, emotionally, and even—God help her—spiritually, their journeys were varied and unique. She wasn’t going to shit on any of that. She didn’t have to be their friend, but she didn’t have to make enemies, either.

“Carlie?” Dimitri said.

“I guess I discovered in everyone the curiosity from back home for new things and experiences. Yes, that’s what I found today. That reminds me of home,” she said.

Everyone smiled and nodded. It was a safe answer.

“Well, thank you everyone for coming today,” Dimitri said. “Enjoy the beautiful weather.” Carlie swore he winked at her when he said it.

One of the women invited Carlie to join a small group for lunch at a nearby cafe, but she politely declined.

I’d rather eat my own intestine and slurp it like those dogs in the movie with the spaghetti, she wanted to say.

“Thanks a million for the kind offer, but I can’t today,” she opted for instead. She walked to the street and beelined for home. Thalonisia was gorgeous, full of opportunities for her, and Carlie wanted to stay, but perhaps being alone was the price she’d pay. She’d make peace with it soon. The idea of standing in another circle commenting on the weather turned her stomach.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her. “You OK?” It was Dimitri. He jogged to catch her and kept stride as they walked.

“Yeah, totally. Thanks for organizing this,” she said.

“Girl, seriously?” he said.

“What?”

“Tell me you didn’t want to roundhouse kick every person who gushed about the weather,” Dimitri said. He was curious. A little different, like her. Hearing him speak honestly undid all the knots in her stomach about the experience.

“Well, I don’t know about roundhouse kick,” she said, “but maybe a quick slap to the back of the head.”

“Look, the city pays me to do these events because the expats bring in the money, and Thalonisia needs it. But if you ever wanna hang out, see the underground music scene, eat something that’s not 3D printed, from a tube, or shipped over from home, let me know.” He handed her a small card with his name and contact on it. “Enjoy this gorgeous weather,” he winked and crossed the street, disappearing into Thalonisia’s tangle of streets and markets.

Carlie walked home, her head a little higher, her outlook a little brighter. She hated herself for it, but she looked at the sky, the sun smaller than she knew it as a child, and realized the weather here on Titan really was perfect. Saturn’s rusty rings swirled overhead in the late morning light as her new home, just a humble moon, revolved slowly around the massive planet.

Maybe leaving Earth to come to Thalonisia would allow her to actually have it all. Time would tell.