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After what felt like weeks of frigid winter cold, the sudden day of warm sunlight and blue sky was a welcome mid-spring surprise. Bossa sat against the shaded side of the rappel tower. He scrolled mindlessly through his phone, looking up at the occasional passerby. It wasn’t entirely clear why he had been assigned to lead a one-on-one training today, and he would usually be excited to be bestowed such an opportunity. If it was with anybody but Shrike, that is.
It hadn’t been that long since their incident, either. Bossa hadn’t spoken with him since then, he didn’t know what there was left to say to someone who had clearly snooped through classified records for sensitive information. Shrike had dug in the knife and twisted it, and Bossa had rectified the situation using his fists, ending the tension in a silent, mutual agreement to avoid contact with one another as much as possible.
“You finally made it.” Bossa didn’t look up at the sound of footsteps approaching “I thought you got lost.”
The clinky sound of a bag hitting the ground reverberated off the concrete followed by a scoff. Bossa stood to his feet, avoiding eye contact with the other man.
“So…today we’re gonna be going over the basics of rappelling.” Bossa tried to keep things curt “Have you done any of that yet?”
“Of course I have.” Shrike knelt to the ground and rifled through his bag “Not all of us come into this completely useless.”
Bossa held his tongue, biting the inside of his cheek in an act of restraint. He tapped his fingers along his belt, sinking his thumbs into the belt loops and fidgeting them around.
“I’m not sure why they picked me to be your trainer for today, but-”
“Yeah. I was kind of wondering the same thing.” Shrike’s voice was laced with bitterness.
“Maybe it has something to do with my experience with GATE.” Bossa said sharply “You know, that little project I spent three years of my life at.” He laid the sarcasm on thick “They’d only run me through rappelling drills…oh, I don’t know…maybe a handful of times in my whole career? But obviously, I must be well educated enough for the powers that be to grant me this opportunity com você hoje.”
Shrike looked up at Bossa through narrowed eyes. Bossa felt a giddiness in his stomach, trying his best to ignore the fading remnants of a black eye as he stared back.
“It’s because Caveira likes you, that’s why.” Shrike’s lip curled in disdain “You get special treatment because you know how to suck up.”
“No, Renard, it’s because I actually know my shit and have a likable personality.” Bossa refrained from commenting on Shrike’s mispronunciation of his teammate’s name “I know that’s something that some of us struggle with but I won’t judge.”
“Don’t call me that. We’re not friends.” Shrike’s voice was icy “You can call me by my code name and I’ll do the same for you.”
“Whatever man.” Bossa rolled his eyes.
He knelt and unzipped his bag, pulling out various pieces of rappelling gear and setting them aside. Shrike grumbled to himself. Bossa couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“What have you gone over so far?”
“What do you mean.”
“Rappeling?” Bossa looked over at Shrike “You said you have experience.”
“No, no. Please. You can play teacher today.” Shrike smiled disingenuously “I insist. You’re only doing what you were told to.”
Bossa felt the corners of his lips pull into a disgruntled frown. He stood from the concrete, brushing bits of dust and grass off his knees.
“Well,” Bossa faked a smile back “Shrike, meu aluno maravilhoso,” the annunciation in his voice reflected that of a grade school teacher “Would you mind showing me your rappel harness?”
Shrike glared in response. Bossa debated on committing to the bit and pinching the other man’s cheeks in disapproval.
“That’s okay. This is hard stuff.” Bossa reached down and picked up his harness “This is a rappel harness. You put it on like a pair of pants!”
“Can you cut it out?”
“If you want to pout like a five year old I’m gonna treat you like one.”
“I just don’t understand why they’d put a notorious rule breaker in charge of teaching me something like this.”
“You should have more faith in me, really. Your leaders seem to think I’m pretty competent.”
“Some of the people around here don’t know their ass from their elbow.” Shrike stood to his feet and gathered the harness into his hands.
“You can readjust those, you know.” Bossa watched as he struggled to squirm into the too-tightly adjusted leg holes.
“I know what I’m doing.” Shrike pulled at the fasteners.
“Alright bro.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
Bossa stared for a moment before pulling on his own harness. He pulled at the sizing straps, adjusting it around his legs and waist.
“You’re a real fun sponge, you know? It wouldn’t hurt you to lighten up a little.” Bossa tucked a loose strap under a tightened piece of the harness “Nobody here’s gonna kill you for it.”
“That kind of mentality is what gets people killed.”
“See? You’re doing it again.” Bossa cast a glance over at Shrike’s harness “There you go, you’ve almost got it.”
Shrike grumbled, sharply mumbling what Bossa could only assume were curse words. He almost felt bad, debating for a moment whether or not he should ask if the other man needed help. He opted against it, deciding that it would lead to nowhere. Shrike finally looked up from his struggle, his face red with frustration.
“Okay, there should also be a bundle of rope in your bag. Can you get that out for me too?”
Shrike turned around wordlessly and dug through his bag, grabbing the rope and turning back to face Bossa. Bossa smiled.
“Cool. We’re gonna head up the tower now and get down some of the basics of descending.”
“Can you just get on with it?”
Bossa sighed, picking up his bundle of rope and walking towards the stairs. He didn’t look over his shoulder, silently hoping that Shrike would take the opportunity to high-tail it out of there and leave. He resisted the urge to groan once he heard the second set of footsteps following him up the wooden stairs. They silently made their way up the structure.
“This is the fun part,” Bossa dropped his rope on the wooden deck as they reached the top of the tower “Stay back from the ledge until you’re clipped in.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Chill br-” Bossa gritted his teeth “Just…fine…okay…” he knelt and uncoiled the rope “This thing works like a pulley system. You’re gonna feed the rope through this anchor point up here, clip in, and then use the extra length of rope to control your fall.”
“Easy enough.” Shrike began unfurling his rope as well, sticking to one side of the tower while Bossa worked on his.
Bossa crawled forward, feeding one end of the rope through the pulley. Shrike glanced at him and squinted his eyes, quickly averting his gaze as Bossa stood up and turned to face him.
“Do you want me to help you with this part?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
The exchange was dry and awkward. Shrike sat on his knees, leaning forward and copying Bossa’s technique.
“There is a belay device that will connect your harness to the rope.” Bossa continued “When you descend, you want to make sure you start with a good stance against the wall. This will make sure you don’t-”
“I don’t have a death wish.” Shrike interrupted.
“Dude I’m trying to explain this to you and I feel like it’s going through one ear and out the other.”
“Well, dude, I just find it hard to take you seriously.” Shrike fumbled around with his belay, connecting it to a length of rope “It’s not that hard.”
“That’s not the point,” Bossa felt frustration tensing in his shoulders and chest “It’s rude as shit and I’m responsible if you get hurt.”
“That’s ironic coming from the guy that tried to beat my face in.” Shrike sneered “You’re just acting like you care. For all I know you could be planning to push me off this thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Bossa tried not to raise his voice “Well they’ve stuck me up here with the same guy who tried to stab me in a fistfight.” He balled his fists up, his attempts at resisting anger futile “What kind of pussy does that?!”
Shrike’s eyes were like daggers staring into Bossa’s. Bossa furrowed his brow.
“You know what? No, I don’t like you. You’ve done nothing but act like a massive dick the whole time I’ve known you.” Bossa continued “You’re a coward, Shrike. You don’t actually know how to do any of this, do you?”
“Of course I do why would I lie about that?!”
“I don’t know, Shrike, why would you do that?” Bossa spat sharply “You couldn’t even put your harness on!”
“Yeah, I could you annoying little shit and I can make it down this tower too!”
“I’d like to see you try.” Bossa crossed his arms.
Shrike stared up at the other man, taken aback by how painlessly he had accepted his challenge.
“Go on then. Do it if you’re so confident.”
Shrike stood to his feet and clipped into the belay device. He grabbed the spare length of rope and held it taut, positioning himself over the side of the wall. Steadily, he walked himself down several footsteps.
“Ha, see?” he leaned back “I don’t need you for this.”
The man leaned back some more. In just seconds, his feet slipped out from under his body and kicked upside down. A surprised yelp escaped him as he desperately clawed his hands back up the rope. He cursed out loud, half hanging upside down and half clinging on for dear life. Bossa dropped to the deck and leaned over the side, extending a hand and grabbing onto Shrike’s arm. He strained and lurched backward, groaning as he pulled Shrike back over the lip of the deck. Shrike scrambled to the far corner of the platform and Bossa stood to his feet, both their shoulders heaving as they caught their breath.
“You…” Bossa lifted a shaky finger “...fucking asshole. You could have died!”
“What does it matter to you!” Shrike yelled, his voice shaking.
Bossa laughed in frustration, putting both hands on his knees and leaning forward as he breathed. Shrike watched silently, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shivering.
“Shrike. You’re right. Maybe I’m not cut out to teach you this.” Bossa stood up straight and took a deep breath “Get your shit. Someone else can deal with you. I’m done.”
“And I’m the coward huh?”
“Yeah. You are. A coward and an asshole. Hope you’re proud of yourself.” Bossa reeled in the rope, tying it back over itself into a bundle once again “It’s ironic that you think I’m the incompetent loose cannon here when you’ve done nothing but bitch and ignore me this whole time.”
“How am I supposed to trust someone like you, whose record is riddled with behavioral infractions and emotional crises, to teach me how not to kill myself in combat.”
“You just do, Shrike. It’s what teammates do. It’s what I just did.” Bossa slung the rope over his shoulder, walking past Shrike and down the stairs “You’re welcome. Do the same for me one day. Maybe you’ll have pulled your head from your ass by then.”