“Don’t be silly,” I say, suddenly self-conscious. “I am not releasing trauma. I just do it because it feels good. Helps me focus.”
“Okay,” she says, the corners of her mouth tweaking into a smile. “So here’s an idea. Let’s do a little experiment. You try my oil, and I’ll try shaking it out, and we can report back to each other. You’ll have to talk me through it though. I’ve always been curious but I’ve never tried doing any kind of bodywork like that.”
“You want me to talk you through shaking it out?” I ask, thinking that this is something I want to see. I want to see Isla shaking it out on the beach.
“Yes, I don’t know how to do it myself.”
“Okay, but you’re going to have to do everything I tell you. My method only works if you follow the routine religiously,” I say, with as much authority as I can while smirking inside.
“Wait. I thought you didn’t even know what somatic practice is?” She says suspiciously.
“I don’t. In my practice, we have always called it Kepo Key,” I vamp.
“Fine. Oil first,” she says. I hold out my hands and she runs the roller ball in circles on my palms. “You’ll be glad to know that this also helps repel mosquitoes.”
“Hey, that tickles,” I complain, snatching my hands away.
“Rub your hands together, and then pretend you are holding a sacred bowl. The bowl is filled with peaceful thoughts. Place your face in the bowl and— No, don’t touch your eyes, Jackson!”
“You said to place my face in the bowl!” I complain. My eyes are watering and stinging.
“I’m sorry. Place your faceabovethe bowl and breathe in. Breathe in that peace and calm, imagining the contents of the bowl filling you up as you take them in.”
“That’s silly,” I wipe my hands on my shirt. “But thanks for bug repellent.” I take a deep breath and smile. The mint is refreshing and although my eyes are still watering, the humidity no longer feels so oppressive. The greens are greener again. Not that I’d ever admit that.
“Your turn,” I say, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. It intensifies the smell of the mint, which I swear is now making me tingle in all my hair follicles from my scalp to my balls. How is that possible? I didn’t touch my balls without realizing it, did I?
“Ready?” I say. “We can take it slow since you’re new to this. Stand on your right foot.”
“Like this?” She gracefully adopts a tree pose. I only know the name of this pose because of Alexis’s annoying yoga phase. She tried to get the whole podcast crew to do it with her.
“No, not like tree pose,” I say. “And close your eyes. Hold your left leg out in front of you. Imagine a circle drawn in the sand in front of you. Stretch your left leg into the circle.”
She looks so serious. She’s even pointing her toes.
“Good, good, now move it back to neutral,” I walk to stand behind her, “And… back into the circle,” I reach out to steady her when she wobbles, briefly putting my hands on her hips.
“When do we do the shaking part?” she asks.
“Now actually,” I say. “We’re almost there. I want you to repeat the motions and then at the end, you’re going to shake your leg vigorously, okay? I think you’re ready to speed it up and put it all together. Return to a neutral position, and then on the count of three, follow my lead, got it?”
“Okay, let’s do it,” she nods gravely.
“All right then,” I say, launching into the song. “You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out, you put your left foot in and you shake it all about….”
Isla’s eyes fly open. She freezes. “Kepo Key? Hokey Pokey? Very funny.”
Tears are rolling down my face now, and it is not just the mint. But the mint isn’t bad at all. It’s lovely. As is Isla. Her face is flaming, and her eyes are shooting blue sparks. “OMG, Isla, thank you, I haven’t laughed like this since my little sister–”
Isla flies at me. “I am going to kill you, Jackson Porter!” She says while tackling me and taking me down to the sand. “I will make you pay!”
Her fingers fly under my shirt, seeking out pressure points, and making me squirm.
“Are you tickle torturing me?” I gasp, underneath her. “What are you, twelve?”
“What are you? Seven? You tried to make me do the hokey pokey!”
“Stop!” I beg, not sure whether I want to laugh or moan. She is sitting on top of me, reaching her fingers into my armpit. The tips of her fragrant hair tease my face like feathers, joining the tickle campaign. But her breasts smashed against me and the way her hips are rocking?
