On Dangerous Borders

The waiting game continued. I sat thinking of all the names I had guessed for her, but I knew it was highly unlikely any of them had been correct. When I wasn’t playing computer games, reading, showering, or eating, my mind became a playground to keep myself entertained. I guessed, wondered, and worried about what would happen next. I thought back to the half year I had spent in jail, as well as my old life back home. That life seemed like it had been years ago, and sometimes I even wondered if it had really existed. Of course, I knew it had, but at times it felt so distant that I couldn’t help but wonder if my mind was playing tricks on me. One night, lying in bed unable to sleep, I listened to the sounds around me. There wasn’t much—just the hum of the air conditioner. The room was very dark, and I could only faintly make out the shapes of things. A little light glowed through the sides of the drapes from the houses and streets behind the building. I thought of the talks Ahsad and I had had back at the jail. I remembered how fed up I’d gotten with the shit from the bitches in the large cell across from me, and how I would tease them whenever I had the chance. Once, when a huge bitch was screaming at me through the bars of her cage while I was sweeping the corridors, something slipped from her pocket and fluttered to the floor a few feet beyond the door. She struggled and strained to reach it, but her thick arm couldn’t fit through the bars. I quickly swooped down, picked it up, and saw that it was a photo of two small children—a girl and a boy. “Give that back to me now!” screamed the giant woman. “Or I will kill you.” “Yeah?” I said confidently, holding the picture. “And how are you going to do that, with your ugly face?” The woman glared with such hatred that I’d have been dead if looks could kill. Then she seemed to realize the more she pissed me off, the less likely I was to return the photo. She softened her gaze. “Give it to me now, and I’ll never talk to you again, ok? I promise. Never again will I say anything to you. Please. Those are my children. They’re all I have.” I wasn’t convinced that a lousy photograph would change anything. Pretending I might tear it up, I said, “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” The woman began begging and pleading. “Come on, just give her back her picture,” another woman shouted, defending her cellmate. I had no intention of tearing it up, but I wasn’t ready to give in that easily. The woman switched back to threats and obscenities. I laughed, enjoying being in control for once, knowing I was getting to her far more than she had ever gotten to me. “Come on,” pleaded the other woman again. “If she ever says anything to you again, I’ll personally slap her.” Just as I grew sick of toying with her and relented, Ahsad rounded the corner. I tossed the picture toward the cell. It landed a foot beyond the bars. “What’s going on?” Ahsad demanded. “Oh, just turning the tables,” I said with a smile. “What?” Several women in the cell started shouting before I could explain. “Quiet!” Ahsad shouted louder than I’d ever heard her. “One at a time.” She looked at me expectantly. “She was just yelling her usual crap at me,” I said, motioning to the large woman who was now struggling to reach the photo of her children. She managed to snatch it up as I went on. “Then she dropped a picture of her kids that landed out of reach. I decided to be in charge for once and give her a taste of her own medicine before returning it.” The pack of women started shouting again, and once more, Ahsad silenced them. Then she yanked the broom from my hand and said, “Ok, let’s go.” “Why are you mad at me? Haven’t I been picked on and provoked enough? Some people just won’t let you ignore them, you know?” “I’m not mad at you. Just get in there, and we’ll talk later. I need to deal with them now.” Once locked in my cell, I watched her approach the other cell, speaking in Urdu. Then she unlocked and flung the door open, ordering the woman to step out and follow her. The air conditioner clicked off as I wondered where Ahsad had taken her and what had happened. I couldn’t remember how long she’d been out, but I knew she’d been returned at some point because I saw her the next day as I swept past the cell. What I did know was that no one dared say a word to me that day as I quietly pushed the broom along the floor. The woman who had screamed at me about the photo lay curled in a fetal position on her bunk, rocking slowly as if she feared monsters might crawl out from under her bed and eat her alive. By the time Kasib knocked, breakfast tray in hand, I was dreaming of laughing and twirling with Ahsad on a grassy hill until we fell dizzily to the ground. Only this time she was wearing American clothes. Her long, slender legs were accentuated in jeans, and the T-shirt she wore showed off her upper body beautifully. Her long, dark hair flowed freely in the wind, free of its usual hijab. I groggily pulled myself out of bed. “Just a minute,” I said, reaching for my robe. I opened the door a few seconds later. “Sorry. I overslept.” With a tight smile and a barely noticeable nod, Kasib handed me the tray. “Thank you.” “Mm-hm.” He was down the hallway before I could shut the door. Why did I always have to keep the door shut? Was it just a habit I’d fallen into, or was it mandatory? Maybe they’d closed it behind me when I was first brought here, assuming I’d want privacy. And as lonely as I sometimes felt, it was true that I did appreciate it—especially in a house that seemed full of men. I nibbled at my eggs and roll. Even though I would have liked to sleep another hour or two, I hit the shower instead. Good thing I did, as I found out once I’d dried off and dressed. “Sorry,” said a strange man sitting at the foot of the bed as I stepped out of the bathroom. I always kept the door closed, even with the bedroom door shut, and I always dressed in the bathroom. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to mask my nervousness with annoyance. “It is time,” the man said, rising from the bed. “Time?” I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice. He nodded. “Time to move to her now.” I exhaled in relief. “Gather your things, and we will go.”