Page 137 of Tactically Acquired

“Perfect.”

“Now…Fuck, where was I going with this?”

“I’m a branch in front of a tree with swaying arms and no rings. I’m not wearing gloves and the temperature is right. I’m not sure yet why I’m the tree or the point of it because you haven’t told me.”

“Because you won’t stop interrupting me!” he snapped.

I pretended to zip my lips. “Carry on.”

“Okay…close your eyes.”

I already did this, but I’d follow along.

“So, you’re standing there and you’re the target. I want you to imagine that the center of your chest is the center of the target. That’s where you plan on lodging the knife.”

“Okay.”

“I want you to imagine yourself throwing the knife. Imagine you’re spinning through the air, blade over hilt as you catapult toward the target and lodge in the center.”

I peeked one eye open and bit my lip. His arms were in the air, spinning as if he was motioning for the knife to spin through the air by magic. This was just too easy. “I’m confused.”

“What now?” he snapped, dropping his arms.

“Well, you said to imagine myself as the target. So, I got in the mental state for that. I knew where the center was and I was ready to feel the burn of the knife piercing my chest.”

When I didn’t continue, he growled, “And what’s your point?”

“Well, then you said I was throwing the knife. And then I was the knife, catapulting through the air. So, not only do you want me to imagine throwing a knife at myself, but you want me to imagine me piercing my own body, and feel the pain of it as I lodge myself into my chest. I’m an actress and I’ve won someawards, but I’m not sure I’m good enough to imagine myself as three separate objects at once. So, which is it? Am I the target, the knife, or the person throwing the knife?”

“Why can’t you just go through it like a process?” he shouted.

“Because you didn’t say to do that. I’m not a magician. I can’t be in two places at once. I wasn’t trained for that. And if you want me to train my brain to be in some weird mental state, you’re going to have to teach me that voodoo magic you do.”

“It’s not voodoo magic!”

“It’s not anything any human has done,” I snorted.

“It’s meditating.”

I laughed outright at that. “Sure, if you want to call it that.”

“I do call it that.”

I raised my hands in acquiescence. “Okay, I stand corrected. It was meditating.”

“You’re damn right it was meditating!”

I nodded, biting my lip as he struggled to regain his composure. He tried to settle his mind, but as soon as he closed his eyes, he screamed, then stood up and started kicking at the air.

“Why can’t you just listen and be a good student?”

“Because I’m a stubborn person.”

He threw himself on the ground and tore at the grass. “I’ve been through multiple students, and you, by far, are the worst of them all. And that includes Bree, who hates holding knives! She didn’t even touch them, and I still taught her!”

“That must have been complicated,” I said sincerely.

“But you!” he seethed, getting up in my face. “You are—” He contorted his hands, twisting them in the air like he was strangling an imaginary person. When his face turned red and it looked like he would explode, he took a deep breath and blew it out, then turned and stomped back to the house.

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