Violent outbreaks of emotions like I have just witnessed make me uncomfortable, and for a moment I’m pushed into the Blue Zone. And while I see Yuri’s wife stomp out of the room and down the hallway, it doesn’t register until a few seconds later. I’m left alone in the entryway of the house, unsure of what I’m supposed to do. I’m more used to K’s passive-aggressive strategies or J’s quiet non-communication. Rhonda’s emotions are strong but steady. They can rise in intensity, but it’s a slow rise, like a fire that burns so gradually that you’re taken unaware of how warm you can become. And yet Rhonda’s fire will never burn me—that much I know to be true.
My first desire at Yuri’s house is to leave and go home. I don’t know what Yuri’s wife is doing. And if she wants me to stay.
Being in the Blue Zone doesn’t help with my decision-making process.
I sit in the chair by the door, a button-tufted U-bench with dark wooden legs and a cushion the colour of oatmeal. The U-bench isn’t as comfortable as the Red Chesterfield, but comfort is not the point of this chair. It’s for decoration, one of the first pieces of furniture you see when you enter the house, and thus designed for short-term use.
If Yuri’s wife comes out by the time the Blue Zone fades away, I’ll stay. If not, I’ll go home and forget all of this.