On Dangerous Borders

I fell asleep on the hard, cold cement bench Ahsad cuffed me to. We didn’t speak to each other very much that night. I was somewhat aware of her coming and going from the office, and casting a periodic glance my way. I was aware of scattered voices at times, too. I had been out for a few hours when I heard Ahsad talking to someone other than Darrah and realized it was one of the night-shift guards. I struggled to open my sleepy eyes and then sit up. Clearly, they were talking about me from the way they were glancing in my direction, as Ahsad no doubt filled the guard in on my previous mood and behavior. Since all of the conversations had been in Urdu, I didn’t know exactly what had been said. Finally, the other officer went into the office, and Ahsad turned to me. “Ok, let’s go.” I groggily sat up as Ahsad unlocked the cuffs. “Wh-where are we going?” “Back to bed in your cell.” I quietly let her guide me to my cell. As we rounded the corner to where the cells were, someone I hadn’t seen before stepped up to the bars of the big cell and said something in Urdu to Ahsad. Ahsad gave a quick, curt answer of some kind and then unlocked and opened my door. “Ok, listen to me,” she started to say. “If you cuff me to the bed, I can’t pee when I need to,” I began to protest. “Shh, I’m not going to cuff you. Just sit down.” She guided me away from the door, then glanced toward it for a second. Obviously, she didn’t want anyone else to hear what she was about to say. “Now listen to me.” I waited for her to continue. “I’ve got to know that I can trust you and that you won’t repeat this to anyone.” “You know I won’t. Have I said anything yet? You could shoot someone like the bitch across the hall and I wouldn’t…” “Ok, ok, now listen to me and keep your voice down.” “I’m listening,” I said in a hushed tone. “I sense that we are both very fond of each other, but I need to know for a fact that it is mutual and not simply something I am guessing about or jumping to conclusions.” “You’ve been so very kind to me, and you’re so very beautiful. What’s not to be fond of?” Then it hit me just what she was getting at. “Oh, you mean in that way?” I beamed a smile. “Keep it down. This isn’t America.” “You’re hot as hell, Ahsad,” I whispered. She smiled so quickly that I wasn’t certain I had seen what I thought I saw. “That’s not enough for me. I need to know it’s more than that.” “You know it is. But I don’t understand your point other than to keep my mouth shut about it.” “The point is that I learned some things today.” “Things about what?” “Things that are not very good,” she said with a nod. “It backfired, as I believe is the correct word.” “What backfired? What’s not good?” “Shh-shh, don’t panic. I need to know I can trust you and that you will trust me when the time comes.” “Yeah, but when what time comes?” Instead of answering, she said, “I am so, so sorry, my sweet one.” “For what?” I asked, starting to get a little nervous and more confused. Ahsad hesitated a moment and then said, “One day soon enough, I will be able to explain it all to you. For now, you must promise to do everything I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, ok?” “Ok.” “And this must also mean that you are not going to harm yourself.” “I won’t.” “Really, I don’t think I could live with myself if I came back tomorrow to learn you had done anything to yourself.” “I won’t. I give you my word.” “I can trust you?” “Yes, you can. But when will I know…” “Shh! You just have to trust me in return. Now I need to go, my sweet one, or else it is going to seem strange that I am spending all this time in here with you. Remember, it must be our secret, and you must not do anything stupid to yourself.” She stepped outside the cell and proceeded to lock the door. “Śukriyā,” I said, surprising her. She grinned but kept her eyes on the keys a moment longer before looking up at me. “Yeah? You have finally begun to learn Urdu?” “No. Just thank you and a few other words.” She said something to me in Urdu, which I assumed was goodbye or good night, and then she winked and was gone. I suddenly felt so alone. The silence was deafening and only occasionally penetrated by a cackle or a shout from the larger cells. I mulled over our conversation in my mind. I was curious about some of the things she had said. I played her words back in my mind over and over again like a broken record as I tried to guess, figure out, and analyze their possible meanings. Whatever it was she had in mind must be against the rules if she was that adamant about me keeping it to myself. I thought back to our other conversations as well. Before I left the U.S., I had an extensive personal blog, which I deleted. I figured that if I was going to find myself and start a new life somehow, somewhere, then a new blog was in order as well. I felt the blog contained too much sadness and I had hoped to begin a happier blog one day soon enough. I was now more than glad that I made the decision to delete the blog, even though I had some regrets at first. No one’s life was perfect, and everybody experienced tough times. The blog had been a part of my life, in a sense, and deleting it from the blogging site couldn’t delete it from my memories or undo the past. And so I wondered if maybe I should have left it as it was and just hoped to be able to add happier times to it later on. But now I was glad that I let it go. When I liked someone, I tended to be on the self-conscious side. Maybe Ahsad wouldn’t have found it or read it if she had, but maybe she would have, and that was a bit of an embarrassing thought. Furthermore, being in the kind of country I was now in made me gladder that I had gotten rid of it. But what in the world could Ahsad have in mind for me? She had said something about how it backfired. What backfired? Some plan to get my so-called case dismissed? Ahsad, like most law enforcement officials in any country, probably had connections—connections that would cover her if she bent or stretched any rules a bit in either her own favor or someone else’s. But I wasn’t just anyone, and so I understood that things might be different when it came to trying to pull any strings in my favor. No one was going to be as quick to help a foreigner, even if they sympathized with her and her situation, as they would be willing to help one of their own. And so I waited. And I waited. And I waited… But nothing happened. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. I became horrified at the thought of never seeing my freedom again. Suicide was on my mind more and more, and I was becoming afraid of what I might do to myself. I feared I would eventually lose that fear and no longer care about anything but getting out of there—even if that meant through death. I thought of ways to hang myself with torn pieces of my sheet. The only problem was that I couldn’t fall far enough to break my neck and die instantly. Instead, I would suffer a slow, excruciating death in which someone might intervene if it wasn’t quick enough. I had been there for nearly half a year in my tiny little jail cell with only Ahsad to keep me going. It was my promise to her that had kept me from trying to figure out a much quicker and easier way to die. But I knew that I would eventually stop caring about what she wanted, and I would have to think of myself. It was then that I decided I’d rather kill myself than please Ahsad, no matter how nice she’d been to me and no matter how beautiful she was. Footsteps approached my cell, pulling me from my dark thoughts. “Hello, Miss Warner.” I smiled weakly at Ahsad but was quick to notice that there was something different about her. I just didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure if jumpy was the right word or not. Maybe she was just bursting with more energy than usual that day. “Did you have a good weekend?” she asked as she stepped into the cell and appeared to be looking for something. “I never have a good weekend.” “I need to see your journal again.” “What did I do now?” “Nothing,” she said as she snatched it up and quickly screened the pages. “Ok, let’s go for your walk.” Deciding she simply must be in a hurry for some reason and that it was perhaps a busy day at the jail, I expected our routine walk to be cut short. And it was. Only it had nothing to do with her being busy. She led me toward the usual spot by the field near a service road. We hadn’t spoken much on the way to this spot and we seemed to be going at a faster pace than usual. An old, dark car suddenly came speeding up the road. It was the first time I’d actually seen a vehicle drive down it. “Remember what we said about trusting me?” “Yeah?” I said curiously. But before she could respond, the car screeched to a stop about twenty feet away and the back door popped open. A young man in his early to mid-twenties jumped out and headed toward us at breakneck speed. “Just go!” shouted Ahsad as she shoved me toward the man. I was grabbed and dragged toward the car. “Get in!” the man demanded as I quickly slid into the back seat. The guy threw himself next to me and slammed the door. It hadn’t even fully closed when the driver stepped on the gas, kicking up dust and gravel behind us as we sped away that warm, dry day.