The Circle

now. “At five I left campus to get some aloe
     at this health shop in San Vincenzo. My dad asked for this particular kind of—”
    “Mae,” Dan interrupted, his tone condescending, “the company store has aloe. Our store’s
     better stocked than some corner store, and with superior products. Ours is carefully
     curated.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the company store had something like aloe.”
    “You went to our store and couldn’t find it?”
    “No, no. I didn’t go to the store. I went straight to the other store. But I’m so
     glad to know that—”
    “Let me stop you there, because you said something interesting. You said you didn’t
     go to our store first?”
    “No. Sorry. I just assumed something like that wouldn’t be there, so—”
    “Now listen. Mae, I should admit that I know you didn’t go to the store. That’s one
     of the things I wanted to talk to you about. You haven’t been in the store, not once.
     You—a former college athlete—haven’t been to the gym, and you’ve barely explored the
     campus. I think you’ve used about one percent of our facilities.”
    “I’m sorry. It’s just been a whirlwind so far, I guess.”
    “And Friday night? There was a major event then, too.”
    “I’m sorry. I wanted to go to the party, but I had to run home. My dad had a seizure
     and it ended up being minor but I didn’t know that until I got home.”
    Dan looked at his glass desk and, with a tissue, tried to remove a smudge. Satisfied,
     he looked up.
    “That’s very understandable. To spend time with your parents, believe me, I think
     that is very, very cool. I just want to emphasize the
community
aspect of this job. We see this workplace as a
community
, and every person who works here is
part
of that community. And to make it all work it requires a certain level of participation.
     It’s like, if we were a kindergarten class, and one girl has a party, and only half
     the class shows up, how does the birthday girl feel?”
    “Not good. I know that. But I was at the circus event and that was great.
So
great.”
    “It
was
great, wasn’t it? And it was great to see you there. But we have no record of you
     being there. No photos, no zings, no reviews, notices, bumps. Why not?”
    “I don’t know. I guess I was caught up in the—”
    Dan sighed loudly. “You do know that we like to hear from people, right? That Circlers’
     opinions are valued?”
    “Of course.”
    “And that the Circle is predicated, to a large extent, on the input and participation
     of people like yourself?”
    “I know.”
    “Listen. It totally makes sense you’d want to spend time with your parents. They’re
     your parents! It’s totally honorable of you. Like I said: very, very cool. I’m just
     saying
we
like you a lot, too, and want to know you better. To that end, I wonder if you’d
     be willingto stay a few extra minutes, to talk to Josiah and Denise. I think you remember them
     from your orientation? They’d love to just extend the conversation we’re having, and
     go a bit deeper. Does that sound good?”
    “Sure.”
    “You don’t have to rush home or …?”
    “No. I’m all yours.”
    “Good. Good. I like to hear that. Here they are now.”
    Mae turned to see Denise and Josiah, both waving, on the other side of Dan’s glass
     door.
    “Mae, how are you?” Denise said, as they walked to the conference room. “I can’t believe
     it’s been three weeks since we gave you your first tour! We’ll be in here.”
    Josiah opened the door to a conference room Mae had passed many times. The room was
     oval, the walls glass.
    “Let’s have you sit here,” Denise said, indicating a high-backed leather chair. She
     and Josiah sat across from her, arranging their tablets and adjusting their seats,
     as if settling in for a task that might take hours, and would almost surely be unpleasant.
     Mae tried to smile.
    “As you know,” Denise said, putting a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, “we’re
     from HR, and this is just a regular check-in we do with new community members here.
     We do them somewhere in the company every day, and we’re especially glad to see you
     again. You’re such an enigma.”
    “I am?”
    “You are. It’s been years since I can remember someone joining who was so, you know,
     shrouded in mystery.”
    Mae wasn’t sure how to answer this. She didn’t feel shrouded in mystery.
    “So I thought maybe we would start by talking a little