—Not now, Mia. I think you better sit down.
—What is it? No, not the shoes, Tsygan.
—Sit, Mia.
—You’re making me nervous now. Just tell me!
—Your girlfriend has been arrested.
My heart stopped. Too much to unpack here.
—Who?
I didn’t know what else to say. I just need a second to get myself back together.
—Billie. They arrested her.
—For what? What did she do?
—You know why, Mia. I do not think you are the only one she was close to.
Shit. This is bad. This country wasn’t made for people like her. I just need to know that she’s fine. I need her to be fine.
—Wha-what did they do to her? Where is she?
—In a psychiatric clinic. Her mother put her there.
No, not this. Anything but this. Billie won’t survive in a cage. Is this my fault? Did someone see us? I hate myself for making this about me, but I can’t handle this being my fault. I’ve hurt her enough already.
—How long?
—A day or two after you left. She’s been there a whole month.
37
Moanin’ at Midnight
My daughter would not take no for an answer. The clinic is quite small. Hopefully everyone is sound asleep and we can sneak in and out. Mia is angry. She does not understand. Billie’s mother was smart to have her committed. She can either be mentally ill or a decadent fascist conspiring against the state. Neither are pleasant but she would not survive the latter. She would be in the gulag already if she were a man. Homosexuality is a crime for them. Women get arrested for plotting against the government, or they are “reeducated.”
—Through here, Mia. This window is open.
Part of me is glad we came. What goes on in these places is inhuman. I have heard of ice-pick lobotomies performed in the US. Place a sharp pointy object, like an ice pick, underneath the eyelid and drive the point through the bone and into the brain with a small hammer. This is a more “gentle” clinic. They will not punch holes in Billie’s brain, but she will wish she were dead nonetheless. I wonder if her mother knows what they will do to her.
—Mother! Are you coming?
I am. I should not be, but I am. From the outside, we could only see light in one of the rooms up front. This must be where the nurse on duty is working. This corridor is empty. I hope the guards are not making their rounds.
—Patient rooms are on the second floor, Mia.
—I know.
She is upset. I sympathize, but we should not be here. Do not draw attention to yourself. I told her not to come. I ordered her. It was foolish of me but I thought she might do what I asked. This is the second time Mia has disobeyed me, but it is the first time she has done it to my face. I suppose I should be glad it lasted this long, but nothing good can come from this escapade. They do not allow visitors during treatment. Even if they did, it would be bad for Mia to be seen with Billie. There is also a distinct possibility Mia will not get the reaction she wants. Either way, there is nothing we can do for that woman.
—Here, Mother. She’s in here.
The door is locked. They will not let them out of their room. I wish Mia would be satisfied seeing her through the window, but I know my daugh—Strike that. I never knew she could pick a lock. She is good.
—Go, Mia. Talk to her so we can leave.
—I’m not leaving without her.
I do not remember ever being this stubborn. I must have been.
—Mia! You have not thought this through. Just get inside and talk to her.
—Stay here, Mother.
I hope Mia gets some satisfaction out of this, a modicum of closure. I hope Billie is capable of having a conversation. Mia does not understand what goes on within these walls. There is no telling what kind of mental state Billie is in, what drugs she is on or what they are doing to her. I can only guess.
[I don’t want you here! GET OUT, NINA!]
This was a bad idea from the start.
—Mia, you need to keep her quiet.
—I just—
[GET OUT!]
—Listen to me carefully, Mia. You need to keep her quiet before the situation escalates. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?
—I know! I’m trying!
She believes the old Billie will surface if she is able to calm down. I fear she might be out of reach.
—Mia! They use psychotropic drugs to make subjects more suggestible. Billie could be having hallucinations. She might not even know if this is real or not.
She might have spent the last month vomiting all day. They give patients nausea-inducing drugs and make them watch homoerotic pictures while they lie in their vomit or feces. She would have received shock therapy, electric current applied to her hands or genitalia while being shown photos of naked women. Masturbatory reconditioning. These “treatments” may not change anyone’s sexual preferences in the end, but they will do a number on their mind. Mia should know that.
[GET OUT! GET OUT! HEEEELP! SOMEONE GET HER OUT OF HERE!]
—Stop it Billie, please!
Too late. I hear footsteps in the stairwell. A guard. Medium build, about my height. Baton in hand, no firearm. I see one exit behind me, one behind him. He is coming this way.
[What’s going on here?]
—Good evening, sir. My daughter and I are visiting our cousin.
[There are no visitors. How did you get in here?]
It was worth trying but we broke in in the middle of the night. It will take more than a story.
—We were just leaving. Take this envelope, sir—take it—and let us agree that we were never here.
I had a feeling we might need to bribe our way in or out. It is the one constant in this country now. People are underpaid if they are paid at all. He saw what is in the envelope. If he were going to do anything, he would have done it by now. He will pretend to think about it, either to convince me I was lucky he took my money, or to convince himself he has some moral character left. Now. He just slid the envelope inside his shirt pocket.
[I SAID GET OUT!]
Shhhh! The guard is entering the room. I know why. If she keeps screaming and someone else comes… He does not need the complication any more than we do. He could lose his job, or the money he took from me.
[You ladies need to go now. And you, will you shut up already?!]
Mia is just standing there. She is waiting for a happy ending but none is forthcoming.
[HEEEEELP!]
[I told you to shut. Your. Mouth!]
He put his baton on Billie’s throat. She cannot protect herself. Her arms and legs are tied to the bed. I do not think Mia will—
—MIA, NO!
Open-hand strike to the throat. I did not see it coming. Neither did he. This is what I was afraid of. This is why I came. The guard is on the floor clawing for air. She must have crushed his trachea. I could open up his throat before he asphyxiates, but the money will not be enough. He will talk. Will Billie?
Mia is still waiting for the person she knows and loves. That person is likely gone, and Mia just killed someone right in front of her.
—MOTHER, BEHIND YOU!
AAHGHH! I think my arm is broken. Another guard. I did not hear him approach over his colleague’s gargling. Assess, Sarah. His baton is in my right hand. I grabbed it without thinking. Push him against the wall and strike with the forehead… I broke his nose. He will focus on that while I snap his collarbone.
There is a nurse standing atop the stairs. She was looking at me. She froze, but fight-or-flee will kick in soon. Here it is. Flee. I must catch her before she calls for help and this gets out of control.