Powerful Delivery

Breathe in for one, two, three, four. Hold for one, two, and breathe out slowly for one, two, three, four, five, six. The fluttering in his chest was still there, so Daniel tried again. His lungs filled, his chest swelled, then he focused on pushing air out through his mouth. He felt calmer, but the fluttering continued, birds beating their wings inside his ribcage.

“Are you okay Daniel?” Kayla, standing next to him, spoke in a hushed whisper. “You seem more nervous than me.”

Daniel nodded as he slowly released the air from his lungs. He tried to speak but his lips were dry and his tongue seemed to be sticking to the inside of his mouth. He took another breath, “I’m okay,” he managed, taking a sideways look at the young woman to his left.

Looking up, she placed a hand on his upper arm. “You’ll be okay Daniel, I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

From Stage Right they watched the previous speaker as he gestured to the audience. Stood over on the far side of the glossy wooden floor, he seemed to be wrapping up with some kind of call to action. Arms waving, fist pumping, as he exhorted the sharply turned out TEDx crowd to sign a pledge, and no doubt, donate some money.

Kayla turned to look up at him again, waves of golden hair cascading down over her plum jacket. Even in her three inch heels, her brown eyes were only level with Daniel’s shoulders. “Shouldn’t I be the one that’s nervous?”

He forced a weak, lips closed kind of smile. What should be happening was that he should be delivering the speech. The culmination of a decade of study, conclusions that could slash greenhouse gas emissions, but it was Kayla’s name on the program besides the presentation title, and not Doctor Daniel Michael Taylor.

“You should be giving the presentation,” Emily had said as he left for his flight three days earlier. “It’s your work, they’re your ideas, you’re the leader.”

Daniel had stepped out onto the front porch before turning to answer. The chill air frosted his breath and he immediately wished he’d grabbed a hat for his hairless head. He noticed how his Uber was waiting where the footpath met the sidewalk, which would mean walking through the uncut wet grass.

“It’s good to give the young ones a chance to shine.”

Emily grimaced, and shook her head slowly from side to side. “Have a safe flight. Text me when you land.”

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In the darkened wings, Daniel turned his attention from the stage to his protege. “Got your notes?”

She pulled a set of cards from a pocket in her jacket. “Right here Daniel.”

“Remember to tell them to try the calculator on our website.”

Kayla nodded, “I’ll tell them Daniel. I’ll be fine, honestly.”

The Stage Manager came up behind them, nearly putting her head between theirs. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kayla affirmed. Daniel nodded, trying to focus on the breathing exercises Emily had taught him.

From the gloom behind where they stood, the Session Chair stepped past them and out onto the stage. Pumping the presenter’s arm up and down like the lever of a village pump, he implored the audience to serve up another round of applause.

The crowd, a mix of academics, journalists, and people interested in new ideas, applauded again. Little more than a muted rustling, like leaves in the wind, it was enough though for the Chair to release his man and point him to his exit Stage Right.

“And now,” continued the Chair, pulling his notes from inside of his jacket and tilting his head back to read them through the bifocal part of his wire-rimmed glasses, “Let me introduce our next presenter.”

One hand holding his chin, index finger rubbing the spot on his upper lip beneath his nostrils, Daniel listened to the introduction he’d prepared. As the Chair went through Kayla’s brief academic career Daniel sensed her rocking gently backwards and forwards, a horse in the starting gate, he thought.

This urge to get out and present, to be in front of a group, was something he’d never understood. It had been necessary in High School at times, but he’d stand there, all those faces looking back at him, waiting for him to speak. And when he did, the words would come too quickly, tripping over each other in his mouth, forcing him to go back and start again. And then his childhood stammer would return, a word wouldn’t form and he’d have to back up and take a run at it. And all the while, those eyes, those faces.

The trembling, beating in his chest had moved lower he noticed, down to his stomach. Griping, churning. God, he felt nauseous, hoping he could hold down the yogurt and fruit that had been his hotel breakfast.

The sensations were familiar, taking him back to a wedding some years earlier. Daniel had misgivings about being Best Man, but as Emily told him, it wasn’t something you turned down. He recalled the music quietening, the wedding planner gesturing for him to stand, and slowly, feeling his knees trembling, getting to his feet.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket for his notes. Not there.

He switched hands, rummaging on the other side of his jacket. Still nothing.

Laughter from the faces looking up at him, soft at first but growing louder as he looked around for the notes he must have dropped. Not on the table in front of him, not on the floor behind him. Louder guffaws now, thinking it was all part of the act. Daniel felt his face growing hot. He shuffled awkwardly. “I um, I seem to have…” Those faces, those eyes. They wouldn’t stop looking.

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As Daniel shook his head, trying to rid himself of that nightmarish memory, the Session Chair turned towards them. He read out the presentation title and Kayla’s name, and she was off, striding confidently across the stage to the muted applause rumbling softly through the auditorium.

Daniel clasped his hands in front of his chest as he watched her walk out. A praying gesture, and perhaps he was, praying she could do what he couldn’t.

It happened quickly, too fast to comprehend. Her foot went over on one side, she tipped to the right, towards the edge of the stage. She took a half step and tilted more. Daniel’s mouth opened as Kayla, the bearer of his message, of his life’s work, toppled over the front of the stage and disappeared from his view.

A collective gasp came, louder than any previous applause. Kayla shrieked and a man and a woman in the front row leapt from their seats and rushed to her aid.

Daniel froze as the Session Chair appealed for someone to summon the paramedics. Should he check on Kayla where she presumably lay on the floor out of his view?

A buzz filled the auditorium as a huddle formed in front of the stage. It seemed to take forever for help to arrive in green, high-vis vests. Daniel rubbed both hands over his face. What was going to happen? Clearly, she couldn’t present. Were they going home without ever sharing their news?

A stretcher arrived. Four burly men hoisted it and Daniel caught a glimpse of a stricken Kayla on her back, before they carried her out of the room, gray blanket covering her body.

The Chair picked up the microphone from where he’d placed it on the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the show must go on. We were going to hear,” he looked at his notes again, ““A Novel Approach to Dietary Change and Reducing Methane Emissions”. Is there someone else here who can present it?”

The wings beat harder in Daniel’s chest, his stomach churned fit to make milk into butter. There was only money in the budget for the two of them to attend.

He stepped out onto the stage, right hand raised head-high, index finger extended.

“I can.”

Sensing movement from the side, the Chair turned to look. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Can you present this paper?”

Daniel nodded and walked hesitantly out to where the Chair stood. ‘You’re not mic’d up are you? the Chair whispered.

Daniel shook his head.

“Well here, take this,” and he handed a trembling Daniel the microphone. Then turning to face the audience, “I’m going to ask our replacement speaker to introduce himself.” And he turned and walked away.

Daniel stood exposed and alone, center stage, not even a lectern to hide behind. Under the fierce lights he could feel beads of perspiration forming on his bare scalp. The hall was silent. Five hundred faces, a thousand eyes, all turned in his direction. Tremors ran through his legs and he looked down at the microphone in his hand.

Daniel cleared his throat. “My name is Daniel Taylor and I’m the Project Lead …”

“Can’t hear you!” bellowed a voice from somewhere at the back of the auditorium.

Daniel turned to look for the Chair stood off in the wings. The Chair made a gesture as if to lift the microphone up nearer his mouth.

Daniel raised the mic and began again, “My name is Daniel Taylor…” No interruptions this time, so he kept going. He became aware that his voice sounded high-pitched, and made an effort to lower it. He looked at the faces in the front row: they seemed to be following along.

Feeling bolder, Daniel walked to the left. He raised a hand above his shoulder to make a point, then crossed to the right. He had no notes but he knew exactly what needed to be said. Wasn’t he the one who’d drafted the presentation the unfortunate Kayla was to have given?

Moving center stage, he made a bold sweeping gesture with his arm to illustrate how the old paradigms were being swept away. He felt stronger now, in control. His voice grew deeper. He paused after making each key point, scanning the audience for reactions. He made a joke and heard laughter. ‘They’re listening,” he thought, “They’re getting it.”

He was moving to his conclusion now, the big reveal, the message he needed them to take home. He slowed his delivery, softened his tone, and then fist clenched, he pumped his arm up towards the ceiling.

We can do this!” he called out, almost but not quite a shout. Cheers rang out so he said it again, more effort this time, “WE CAN DO THIS!” More, and louder, cheers, so a third time, softer now, “I truly believe, we can do this.”

As Daniel lowered the microphone to his side, thunder swept through the auditorium. He looked out and saw people getting to their feet. The Session Chair appeared by his side, face beaming, putting an arm around Daniel’s shoulders and taking the microphone from him.

The applause continued. It seemed the room was on its feet. The Chair gestured for people to sit, and gradually the noise gave way to calm as derrieres returned to seats.

“I think we can all agree,” the Chair was saying, “That was the most exciting, most motivating presentation of the conference. So far,” he added.

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Daniel paced the floor of his hotel room. He felt alive with the energy coursing through his body. “They loved it Emily,” he said into his phone, “They loved it.”

She was quiet for a moment, digesting his news. Then, softly, “I knew you could do it Daniel. You just needed to overcome your fear of public speaking. And now you have. I’m so proud of you. What’s next? Going to run for School Board?”