“Partially. I don’t think he actually has anything against women. It’s just hard taking orders from one.
Ya
know, the male ego thing and all.” He shrugs his shoulders as if that takes away the seriousness of what he’s implying.
“Will you have an issue if I tell you what to do?” I ask, hesitant for the actual answer.
“Probably not. You’re really good at asking and not demanding. I have the feeling that if you yell for me to jump, there’s a good reason for it, like a snake wanting to take a bite out of my foot.” Jake gives me an ear-to-ear grin. His goofiness helps to break my tension. I smile back and walk over toward Molly.
“Hi, Brett.” Molly smiles at me.
“Hey. Molly, I wanted to talk to you about the ground cover.”
“No need, I know you didn’t say anything to Dr. Brant.” She pats me on the arm.
“How do you know?” I ask, startled.
“It just doesn’t seem like something you’d do,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.” I smile at Molly, unsure how to fully convey my appreciation. “Hey, Molly, I noticed Jake was giving you a hard time after lunch today, trying to take over your job again.”
“Yeah, you noticed,” she says sheepishly.
I attempt to console her. “Don’t take it personally; he tries it with everyone. I think it’s his way of trying to be useful and helpful. The trick with Jake is to keep him busy. If he has his own thing to do, he’ll leave you alone. He’ll stop bugging you. So, the next time he tries to be the boss, give him a small, insignificant job to do, but make it
sound
like he’s really helping you out. It might not hurt to imply that it’s something you couldn’t accomplish without him.” I wink and watch a smile spread across Molly’s face.
“I’ll try that, thanks. Men can be such dolts. I hope Ryan comes to his senses soon.” She reaches into her pack and pulls out a small rectangular box. “How about we get a game of cards started? It might help break the tension, or at least make Ryan realize he’s the one who’s going to suffer if he chooses to be a grouch.” She holds up the deck of cards and smiles. I’m briefly speechless with appreciation.
“Good idea,” I finally say, laughing.
The card game makes the night go by quickly. We play poker, using a box of toothpicks as chips. As I expected, Ryan ignores us, and continues to work with his ground cover samples. Molly turns out to be quite the poker player. By the end of the evening, Molly owns most of the toothpicks.
The next day has a decidedly relaxed feel to it. We had collected more than enough samples the day before. So, we are able to focus more on the beauty of the landscape. The spring season is in full bloom. Most of the fields we walk across are already sprinkled with all kinds of wild flowers. We spend some of our time just watching a pink and white bumblebee flying from flower to flower gathering pollen.
Ryan is still ignoring me, but it doesn’t bother me as much.
“It’s amazing how things are so similar to Earth,” Molly sighs.
“It’s all kind of eerie. I was stung by a pink and white bumblebee when I was little.” I point to my foot to indicate where.
“But there’s no such thing as pink and white bumblebees on Earth,” Jake argues.
“That’s what my grandparents told me while they were pulling out the stinger. I was staying with them at their camp. I saw the bee flying around me, and I froze. I had always been told that if you stay still, the bee will leave you alone. Being little, I believed it. I stood as still as a statue and watched as the bee kept circling around me, then finally landed on my big toe, stinging me. I learned a couple of important lessons that day.”
“And they are…?” Jake nudges me to get me to continue.
“Well, the first lesson I learned is not to stay still and wait to get stung. If a bee comes too close, I leave. The second lesson is that most adults will only believe what they can see.”
“Well, right now we are definitely seeing.” Jake reaches out and catches the bee in a container. We look at him, bewildered. “What? I’m going to release him. I’m just going to tag him first. You never know; he might lead us to a new kind of honey.” He holds up and shows us the tag, as if to prove that was truly his intention all along.
The day goes by much too quickly. Before we know it, it’s time to return to the base. Fortunately, Dr. Brant has been impressed with our field visit and she gives us permission to continue to work out of the field lab from this point on. We have just re-entered the base when Dr. Brant pulls me aside.
“Brett, can I have a word?” Dr. Brant gestures for me to walk with her. Once we are far enough away, she turns to me. “Whatever is going on between you and Ryan, I need you to take care of it.”
“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” I admit.
“It’s hard to notice two people not talking to each other for two days. What’s going on?” Somehow, she looks both cross and sympathetic at the same time.
“Murphy’s Law,” I sigh.
“Explain.”
“Thursday I suggested to Ryan that we collect some grass samples for landscaping. He took offense. He didn’t like me telling him what to do, even though I was just asking. I decided to let the matter drop for the moment. I'd bring it up again later, once he had adapted to the idea of me being the team lead,” I explain.
“I see. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that I had the same idea. Would you like me to explain the situation to Ryan?” she offers.
“No, please don’t. He already thinks I went above him. I assured him that I would be direct with him if I had any issues. If you went to him now it would just confirm that his judgment about me was right, even if he had been wrong about the grass. He needs to figure out on his own that I’m true to my word.”
“You might be right. But you need to take care of the situation soon, before it affects your team.” She stares at me sternly, trying to drive home her point.
“I will,” I assure her.
I don’t know how, but I will
.
Chapter 9
The following day, Ryan continues to give me the silent treatment. I continue to work with Jake cataloging the insects he’d found. Though my back is toward Ryan, I can feel his eyes on me as I work. I ignore the feeling as best as I can, and continue busying myself with work, despite the distraction. Eventually, Ryan takes his samples and carries them to the bio-dome. To add insult to injury, he informs Jake of where he is going, pretending I’m not even there. I take a few moments to calm myself and focus my thoughts. Then I leave Molly and Jake working in the field lab, and go to the bio-dome to try and talk to Ryan again.
I have no idea what I’m going to say to Ryan. I had already told him that I didn’t go to Dr. Brant. What more can I do to convince him that I’m telling the truth?
Sage advice from my father enters my mind:
Don’t look at the behavior, but the cause of it
. But I’m not sure why or how it helps me. The cause is pretty clear; he thinks I’m a liar.
When I enter the bio-dome, Ryan is already busy working, transplanting his samples. My entrance isn’t quiet, but he continues working as if oblivious to my presence. I clear my throat – he still keeps working.
“So how long do you plan on giving me the silent treatment?” I inquire, keeping my tone as polite as possible.
No answer. He makes no gesture to acknowledge my presence, no sign that he even heard me – but I spot his posture stiffen, indicating his awareness and determination to continue ignoring me.
I decide to reason with him. “You know the only thing you’re going to accomplish is hurting our team, don’t you?”
More silence, but his body tenses. I’ve hit a nerve.
Encouraged, I tried some more creative reasoning with him. “You know, I have a theory. The reason you are so convinced that I went to Dr. Brant to force you to do what I wanted is that, if you were in my position, you would have done it. So, in essence, you’re trying to punish me for your behavior.” I pause and wait for him to respond.
Still no answer, but he looks up, catches my gaze for a moment, then returns to his work. In that moment, staring into his vivid green eyes, I realize none of this is about the grass. I saw that same look on the very first day I met him by the fence. This is about him thinking he’s better than me. This is about my becoming the team lead instead of him. The grass is simply an excuse – that’s why he reacted so badly from the first moment I mentioned it. A wave of anger flares through me, followed by nauseating despair. I may realize the true cause behind his behavior now, but what can I do about it?
I stand there for a moment before the answer finally comes to me: nothing. There is absolutely nothing I can do about the cause of his behavior.
But there’s plenty I can do about how I allow him to treat me.
“So are you planning on standing there all day?” Ryan hisses.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. It doesn’t matter if you like me or not, and it doesn’t matter if you think you should have been made team lead and not me. What does matter is how you treat the people on our team. I expect you to treat me and everyone else on this team with respect. If you don’t think you can handle that, please save us both some time and tell me. Because of your behavior over the last two days, Dr. Brant is aware of the situation. I’m sure she’ll understand if I put a request in for a new botanist.” I paused to let it sink in. “You don’t have to answer me this exact minute. I’ll let you think about it as you work today, but by tonight I either expect a request to transfer from you, or respectful behavior. Understand?” I do my best to keep my expression confident and neutral. I don’t want him to think this is an empty threat and push the issue, just to call my bluff. I will ask for a transfer if I have to.
“Tonight.” His voice is flat, and his eyes are empty as they stare back at me.
I decide to work in the base lab the rest of the day, and give Ryan the space he needs to make his decision. I finally have some footage from my cameras, and it keeps me busy the rest of the day. I finally get to document and classify several different species. Fortunately, none of them seems to be a predator large enough to pose a threat to humans. Ryan doesn’t approach me during the rest of the day, but I hope it’s a good sign.
At the end of the day, I head to the dining hall and run into Brody. “Perfect timing.” A smile spreads across my face as I approach him. “Feel like joining me for dinner?”
“Can’t; I’m meeting the guys,” he answers flatly.
“I’m not sweaty today; I don’t mind dining with them tonight,” I joke.
“Maybe another night; tonight’s just the guys.” He continues walking, leaving me behind where I stood.
“Oh, okay,” I say to no one in particular. I’m confused. Is he still mad at me from when we went swimming? Did he even notice I had been gone? I shake my head in disbelief and head toward the dining hall alone.
Over the next week, I immerse myself in my work. Ryan has decided to stay on our team, and his behavior is better, sort of. Ryan is perfectly polite and cordial towards me, but underneath it all is tension that can’t be missed. When we take a field visit to lay animal traps, he doesn’t complain. He even helps to carry the cages – but there is no small talk, no silly banter, or relaxed moments of interaction between us. Its effect is an ice cold harshness that infects the entire team’s behavior and demeanor. It makes our work feel tedious, and after just a few days of it, we are all showing our exhaustion.
I know I can’t allow this non-fighting to continue, but I’m at a loss for ideas to fix it. Ryan’s not technically doing anything wrong, and if I make an issue of it, I’ll be the bad guy. I tried giving Ryan some distance, but that didn’t help. I tried to include Ryan in work activities. He participates, like with the animal traps, but all of those attempts have been miserable failures. He patiently reports his progress on his grass project but rejects any offers of assistance. Out of desperation, I’ve even tried arranging some fun activities outside of work, like dinner, swimming, or a game of tennis, but he politely declines each time and leaves Molly and Jake stuck in the middle like little kids whose parents are about to divorce.
I’ve decided not to transfer him off the team without a more tangible reason. So the only option I’m left with is simply waiting for his anger to dissipate over time. I just hope out team isn’t too worn out by the time it does.
On Thursday, I can hardly wait to leave work. I’m looking forward to the distraction dinner with
Andi
and our friends will offer.
When I arrive,
Andi
is already there. “What’s up?” She looks at me, concerned.
“Nothing, just too much politeness,” I mutter.
“Want to talk about it?” She gestures with her head towards the empty tables.
“Nah, rather forget about it,” I glumly admit. I’ve already talked her ear off several times over the last week about Brody and Ryan. I’m tired of talking, and she must be tired of listening.
“Would it help if I just yell at you and call you a jerk?”
Andi
asks, lifting an eyebrow and drawing a laugh out of me. She always knows just what to say. I wrap my arm in hers, and we walk over to the large table the rest of our friends are seated at. Well, I walk, at least.
Andi
skips.