Internment(57)

I look in Jake’s eyes and see that he means it. He believes his own words, and I’m glad he does. He has to. But even he can’t know the truth of what could happen. What he could endure, what he would confess, if things got bad enough. Human beings are capable of so many wondrous things, but there’s no limit to the horrible things we do to one another. I shudder. Honestly, torture is not an idea I want to think about. The word alone makes my stomach queasy, and if I imagine too much, I’m afraid I won’t do what needs to be done.

“That’s great for you, man,” Soheil says. “But you’ve gone along this whole time. You were on the train that brought us here. You weren’t exactly trying to sabotage the tracks.” Soheil’s voice is tight, strained.

“Soheil, it’s not like that—” I say.

“No,” Jake interrupts. “He’s right. It was exactly like that.” Jake looks Soheil in the eye. “I know why you don’t trust me. And you’re smart to be suspicious. Most of my unit was absorbed into the Exclusion Guard. I followed orders. I did what I was told. Orders are what I know. But for too long I forgot my sworn duty, to America, to Americans. And I am sorry. I have new orders now that countermand the illegal orders that started this camp. I don’t answer to the Director, not anymore. But the Director trusts me. We’ve weaponized whiteness in this country. So why not use mine to your advantage now?”

“Thank you, Corporal Reynolds,” Ayesha says.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m not the brave one.”

Soheil nods at Jake. “You’re right. And I’m not thanking you.”

I clear my throat. “I think we know where we all stand. Now, are we ready for tonight?”

“We’re ready,” Soheil says. “Nadeem, how many people did you last count?”

“Twenty-five,” Nadeem says. “They all know what to do. Sit at the first table with empty trays. No food. No water. It’s enough people to draw attention.”

“What do you think, Jake? What’s the Director going to do?” I ask.

“Hard to know. He’ll be furious, but the question is whether he will crack down with the Red Cross visitors present. There are two reporters traveling with them, and I doubt the Director will want more bad press. But after they leave, that’s when it will get ugly. He’ll know who all of you are. He’ll know you’ve been conspiring, and he will not come down easy. As long as the press and the protestors are outside, you’ll have some cover, but he’s counting on them leaving.”

“We can’t let them leave,” Ayesha says. “But how can we make them stay?”

“Jake, if I write another blog post, can you get it out there? Can you leave the camp with it?” I ask.

Jake nods. “Easy enough.”

“Let’s do this,” I say, trying to sound resolute. “I’ll see you guys at the Mess tonight. Meanwhile, keep your heads low.”

I leave Ayesha with Soheil, Nadeem, and Nadia and hurry to my Mercury Home with Jake. Once there, we walk straight into my room and shut the door. I pull out a pad of paper and scribble a couple of paragraphs about the fast we’re planning for tonight. I write about the Red Cross and the threatening announcement and the meticulous preparation for the visit that is supposed to showcase Mobius as a camp upon which all future camps can be modeled. The writing is rough, but we’re running out of time, so it will do.

I hand the note to Jake. “Thank you for this, and for the risks you’re taking. Sorry if it puts you in any danger. Is helping us on the inside like this part of your special orders, or whatever?”

“Remember when I told you that when you don’t know the truth, people can’t force you to tell it? Best to keep things distant.” Jake gives me a wistful smile and tucks the note into his pocket. “I’ll get this into the right hands as soon as I can.” He opens the door and lets himself out.

I watch him leave, then shut my bedroom door. I go to lie down on my bunk, mind racing.

Everyone is in danger. All the time. The Director demands loyalty from those around him—what would the Director do to Jake if he were to catch him with my note? I’ve leaned on Jake. I can’t imagine going through this without him. And Ayesha and Soheil? Nadia? Nadeem? The others? Once we draw attention to ourselves, there will be nowhere to hide. The Director will know who we are, and hell will rain down.

I nestle my cheek into my pillow and think of David. My body warms at the memory of him. He’s outside the fence, out of reach. Will that keep him safe? I might never be able to be in his arms again, but he’s here. Close. For now, that’s enough.

My feelings bang around in the bell jar of this imprisonment, this camp. I clutch my stomach and close my eyes and wish it all away. Stop the automatic thinking. The spontaneous overflow of worst-case scenarios. There’s no time for that, and neither my feelings for David nor my sympathies for Jake are important right now. I need to keep telling our story to the world until everyone listens. I can’t afford to be distracted.

The fast is tonight.

People can get hurt.

One of those people could be me.





Since my parents arrived back at the trailer this afternoon from their “jobs,” they’ve been in unsettlingly good spirits. The visit from the Red Cross has buoyed them. I don’t want to be the one to burst their bubble. Not yet.