Now the room was back in use.
It was perfect for our purposes. The candidates could watch videos on the huge television and learn to cook American fare in the kitchen. They could play traditional board games.
I’d unearthed a dusty American flag from the bowels of a storage closet in one of the academic halls, the sort that once graced the front of classrooms everywhere. Saying the Pledge of Allegiance had fallen out of fashion, although it was a staple of my childhood. It was strange to think of a generation of children growing up in the United States not even knowing the words.
The counselors herded the candidates through the door and onto the couches. I heard more than a few sneezes. I should have switched them out for something newer, or at least instructed the cleaning staff to give them a good pounding. It simply hadn’t occurred to me. I was a woman so intent on the big picture the small details often got lost.
“This morning you have to learn the Pledge of Allegiance,” I informed our charges. “How the counselors assist you in this task is up to them.” I turned to address my employees. “The only thing I ask is no physical contact. No hitting, slapping, or pinching. But studies show giving a punishment will motivate them to learn faster. It’s called negative reinforcement.”
I was lying. The opposite was true.
Will stepped up, briskly clapping his hands to get the candidates’ attention. “Okay, everybody! No breaks until everyone can recite the Pledge of Allegiance by heart!”
The counselors lined up and demonstrated how it was done, reciting the words with their hands over their hearts.
“Now, your turn,” Will invited, gesturing to the candidates.
They were provided with pieces of paper printed with the words, but their first attempt to recite was halting and disorganized.
I left ten minutes later. Everything was under control.
I hurried across campus to my office, anxious to see how the counselors behaved without me present. Unlike the other places on campus, I managed to equip the recreation room with audio, so I’d be able to hear their conversations.
I flipped open my laptop and turned the volume up. Will was in charge. The candidates were still standing, their hands stiffly held over their hearts. Will was forcing them to take turns saying the Pledge of Allegiance alone.
The children, Ahmad and Sahar Abdalla and Eduardo, caught on quickly. Like Roman, they were fluent in English. But their parents were a different matter. Samir was clearly struggling for reasons besides pronouncing the words. Pledging allegiance to a nation not his was not easy for him.
Parisa’s English was so poor her words were gibberish. Maria’s efforts were somewhat better, but her words were not recognizably the Pledge.
“Again!” Will roared, his words cracking the air like a whip.
“I gotta use the can,” Roman complained.
Will ignored him, pointing at Samir. “Your turn,” he said.
“Listen, I said it perfect and I gotta use the can, man,” Roman groaned. “You’re not seriously going to keep us all here until everyone learns it, right? That’ll take hours.”
“I’ve had about enough of your mouth,” Will said.
Moose spoke. He’d been lounging in an armchair the entire time, completely focused on his phone. “Give him a punishment,” he told Will. “Dr. Reiter said we could.”
“Come on man, I have to shit!” Roman whined.
Moose unfurled himself from the chair. I leaned forward. This was an unexpected turn of events. I thought Will would gleefully take the lead in punishing the candidates.
“Down on your knees!” Moose commanded. “Give me fifty push-ups, now!”
“What is this, the army?” Roman grumbled, but he clumsily lowered himself into position. With a cockiness only betrayed by the set of his shoulders, he swiftly executed the push-ups with an ease that bespoke familiarity with the gym.
Parisa, her face anxious, murmured something to Sahar. The teenage girl raised her hand, trembling. “Excuse me sir, my mother has to use the restroom, too.”
“No one is going anywhere until you all learn to say the pledge!” Will roared. “Have I made myself clear?” When no one answered, he stabbed a finger at Sahar. “You! Fifty push-ups! Down on your knees!”
Maneuvering herself to the floor was difficult in her unwieldy robes. The girl’s face burned with shame. This was the second time she’d been singled out for punishment. Samir, her father, was glaring at her with disgust. The weakness of his women was a blight on his honor.
“How fucking American is those goddamn burqas they’re wearing?” Ariana demanded to know, hands on hips.
“It’s a hijab,” Maggie said.
“What-ever,” Ariana sang. When Maggie looked away, the sorority girl gave her the finger, smirking.
What a bitch.
Will scrunched up his face in thought. “Good point,” he said, glancing at Moose for guidance.
“We have freedom of religion here in the states,” Lucinda reminded them.
Everyone fell silent, observing Sahar’s flailing attempt to execute a push-up. “Does that even count? What the hell kind of push-up is that?” Ariana snorted.
Moose stalked over to the struggling girl. He kicked off his flip flops and placed his bare foot on her back, forcing her to push against the added weight.
I frowned at the screen. I’d specifically said no physical contact. Well, I mainly meant no hitting. Although this could probably be classified as pushing. I chewed the inside of my cheek in thought.
I decided to let it go. This was not that serious. No one was being physically hurt. Not really.
When Sahar began gasping for air, Moose let her up. Tears poured down her face. Samir leaned forward, locking eyes with his daughter. I feared he was about to slap her. Instead, he patted his daughter’s hand.
I was nauseated. It had taken less than twenty-four hours to reach the threshold achieved in Milgraum’s experiments. And Maggie was doing nothing to stop it. She’d offered only token resistance to the discussion of the Afghani’s dress.
The morning wore on. The adults were slowly improving, although it was clear they were just spitting out sounds on command. They demonstrated zero understanding of the meaning of the words.
After about an hour, Ariana wrinkled her nose and asked, “What’s that smell?”
The candidates were stone faced.
Will leaped to his feet. “Who shit themselves?”
Roman shrugged. “Dude, I warned you.”
“What are you, an animal?” Will spat. “Fucking disgusting.”
“I’m gonna vomit,” Ariana announced.
“I’m not the only one who shit myself,” Roman declared. “I’m just the only one admitting it.”
“Everyone can have a seat. Sit in it. Marinate in it. I told you, we’re not leaving until everyone can recite The Pledge of Allegiance. Let’s go down the line again.”
Stricken faces gave away the identity of those that had succumbed to nature’s call. Every candidate looked uncomfortable.
“Again!” Will shouted, hands laced behind his back. He looked like a general reviewing the troops.
When did he become the leader, and how? I initially thought those honors would fall to Moose, a natural born leader, or Lucinda, with all her experience. Not Maggie. She was an introvert.
I knew Ariana would be a waste, but I’d thrown her into the mix for a little diversity.
“Will, it’s nearly time to go to the gym,” Maggie chided. “We should let them go back to their rooms and change.”
“No,” Will said. “If they can’t control themselves, then they can sit in their own shit and piss all day long. Maybe then they’ll learn a lesson.”
Maggie visibly swallowed. There was a silence.
Then Ariana said, “Dude, we’re gonna have to smell them all day? That’s a punishment for us, too. Gross.”
Will ignored this. “Line up.”
When the candidates began lining u
p by families, Roman the odd man out, Will shook his head. “No. In age order.” He glanced down at his watch. “You have two minutes to get this done. If not, everyone will hit the deck for fifty push-ups.”
Five minutes later everyone was stretched out on the floor, grunting as they attempted to complete fifty push-ups. Moose walked among the struggling bodies, occasionally shoving his foot down on a back, forcing candidates prone.
I realized I was gnawing on my fingernails.
The candidates were upright again, with Maggie and Lucinda walking down the line, helping them into age order while Will watched with his arms folded, scowling, wanting to assign another fifty push-ups.
The gym was a quarter of a mile away, located on the far side of campus in its own building. I had no way of knowing what might happen during that brief walk. I had been unable to place cameras on the trail between the dorm and the gym.
Lunch was an hour away. I rewound the footage and replayed it, occasionally freezing the frames to study the counselor’s facial expressions during the candidates’ punishment. Maggie looked vacant, disconnected from the whole ordeal. Ariana’s attention did not veer from her phone. Lucinda appeared to be shocked. Moose joined in intermittently, but he was mainly focused on texting. The most enthusiastic participant was Will.
I stared at the frozen rictus of his face.
How quickly normal people turn into Nazis.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maggie
I didn’t want to be here, doing this, with these people. I would rather be anywhere else, at the Reiter’s house, home, or even in cousin Laila’s McMansion plotting to steal her underpants.
I had a horrible headache. The stench of excrement didn’t help. I felt sick to my stomach. But I didn’t complain. I didn’t want to further shame the shaking, terrified people on the dusty couches.
It was a good thing Will was in charge. I wouldn’t be able to do as Ursula instructed. I couldn’t punish them. Not allowing them to use the restroom seemed unnecessarily harsh to me.
But what did I know? The candidates were criminals, illegal aliens, and Ursula had told us that subjects learned faster through negative reinforcement. They only had six weeks to learn how to assimilate into American society. Not being able to use the bathroom was a small price to pay.
Right?
I decided to put it out of my mind.
We had reached the gym. None of the candidates were dressed appropriately, except maybe Roman who was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Unfortunately, he was also wearing Reebok flip flops.
Eduardo was wearing jeans and sandals with a button down shirt, and Maria, his mother, had on a pretty pink and white gingham sundress and high heeled sandals.
The Abdallas were dressed the worst. Samir and Ahmad, father and son, were dressed formally, in suits and ties and dress shoes, in spite of the heat. Parisa and Sahar wore the hijab, and although their feet were not visible beneath their robes, I’d glimpsed sandals when they sat.
At least the gym was air conditioned.
The candidates were to be given full use of the complex. They could engage in the exercise of their choosing. They could even swim in the pool, if they had a swimsuit. But Will clearly had other ideas.
“You have five minutes to use the bathroom,” he proclaimed on arrival. “Meet back here, in front of the trophy case.” He made a big show of looking at his watch.
As the candidates hurried off, he turned to us, his face triumphant. “We did a pretty good job of showing them who’s boss,” he said.
“Definitely, bro,” Moose agreed. “What are we gonna do with them now, though? Teach ‘em how to play hockey? None of them are dressed right, and I don’t know where they keep the extra ice skates.” He scratched his head, befuddled.
Will waved the idea away. “Maybe later,” he said. “I’m gonna have ‘em run laps.”
Ariana snickered. “In those robes? Hilarious!”
I glanced at Lucinda. She was studying her manicure.
“That reminds me, we gotta do something about the way those women are dressed,” Will said. “That ain’t right. They need to dress like us. They can’t stay here otherwise.”
One by one the candidates were returning, looking refreshed. Five minutes to clean up and use the facilities was Draconian, but better than nothing.
I sat and watched Will and Moose herding the puffing, sweating candidates through the halls, up and down the stairs, and in and out of the field house. I probably should join them. I could use the exercise. But I was wearing a dress and flip flops.
I saw many bare feet as the candidates puffed by, as they’d kicked off sandals, flip flops, and dress shoes. The Abdalla family looked uncomfortable. Sweat stains appeared below the armpits of Samir and Ahmad, and the women looked miserable in their voluminous robes.
Roman, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying himself, tagging right on Will’s heels, showing off. At one point, he overtook him. Will responded by halting the group and forcing them to drop and give him fifty.
I didn’t know what to make of Will’s behavior toward me. I was worried he’d want to hold hands or kiss. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, particularly not Ursula, who’d been so good to me.
But Will had given me nothing more than a cool nod, the same greeting he exchanged with Moose. When Ariana threw herself at him, hanging on his arm and batting her eyes, I felt an unfamiliar surge of possessiveness. It made me want to walk over to Will and plant a big kiss on him, to mark my territory.
I hadn’t wanted Will to act differently towards me, but now I was upset he was treating me exactly the same as everyone else. I didn’t know what I wanted.
The runners halted, panting, hands on knees. Will wiped sweat off his brow. Ariana sidled up and said something to him, leaning forward so he could look down her skimpy spaghetti strap tank top. I felt helpless as Will’s eyes flicked down to take in Ariana’s cleavage. Shouldn’t he at least push her away, out of respect for me?
Just days ago, Will had been mine to command, but somehow he’d wrested the upper hand. I was confused. I didn’t understand how things had changed so quickly.
Why did I even care? I was a lesbian. Wasn’t I? I had a girlfriend. Didn’t I?
At the end of the gym torture session, Will generously permitted the candidates another five minutes to freshen up before we walked them to the Student Union for lunch.
“Are we eating lunch there too?” Ariana inquired, posing with her hand on her hip and her breasts pushed forward.
Will grinned at her. “What do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking we could get a bite downtown after the shitheads go to their afternoon classes,” she said. She fluttered her eyelashes in a manner that was incredibly fake. I rolled my eyes. She was making a fool out of herself. Didn’t she know how pathetic she appeared, chasing after Will?
“Sure,” Will said.
I waited for him to turn and include me in the invitation.
“Let’s go!” he shouted at the candidates.
The entire way to the Union I felt like a tagalong, straggling after Will and Ariana, who were walking together and chatting. Neither one acknowledged my presence. The red brick building was in sight when the thought hit me like a thunderbolt. I wasn’t being invited to lunch.
It had to be an oversight. They’d discussed it right in front of me, and I’d gone to lunch with them last week. Maybe they thought I’d assume I was included.
Yet no one was saying anything of the kind. In fact, Ariana and Will were walking slightly ahead of everyone else. They looked like a couple.
During the year. the Student Union boasted several lunch counters, but during the summer only the grill and sandwich bar was open.
The Abdallas immediately grimaced.
I nudged Lucinda. “What’s wrong with them?” I asked, gesturing towards the family with my chin.
“They don’t eat pork,” she explained. “They’re probably worried all the food is tainted, since
the counter workers don’t change their gloves in between customers.”
I shrugged. “That’s no big deal. We can just ask them to change their gloves before making their food.”
Will turned around. “No,” he said. “We’re not to accommodate these people. That defeats the whole purpose.” He pointed at Sahar. “Order, or don’t eat. Those are your choices.”
Sahar explained rapidly in their native tongue to her parents. Their faces reflected dismay. Her father stepped forward and with deliberate gestures picked out a bag of potato chips from the wire display rack. The rest of the Abdalla family followed suit.
Will shook his head. “I’m gonna let that slide, just because I’m tired of dealing with bullshit,” he confided to Moose and Ariana. “But they’ve got to start fucking eating like everyone else. Like good Americans. Or they can get the hell out.”
Since when did being a good American mean eating from a sandwich bar or grill? There were plenty of Americans who ate packaged processed junk at every meal. Nothing was more American than that.
But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to piss him off. I wanted him to like me.
I expected Will to stop me from joining the sandwich line. But he didn’t. He glanced over at me while I was placing my order, so it wasn’t like he didn’t know I was eating here.
It was official. I was not invited to lunch with him and Ariana.
I sighed. I was making too much of this. It was lunch. Not a wedding.
It just seemed Will was sending me a message by ignoring me all morning and then going out to lunch with my rival. I was probably just being paranoid. Maybe, like me, he didn’t know how to navigate the morning after awkwardness. I was being too sensitive. I needed to chill. What guy wanted a girl who got upset over everything?
Ursula joined us for lunch after ordering a salad. She boldly sat down beside me. “What’s that horrible odor?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“A few of the candidates had accidents,” I said.
“I told them there were no leaving the room until they learned the Pledge,” Will explained.
Hiding Places Page 17