by Sidney Wood
In mid November, Jen was walking to the cafeteria for breakfast with Maria. As they walked down the hall, soldiers in black burst through the double doors dragging three blindfolded prisoners with them. The prisoners were two frightened men and one nearly catatonic woman wearing orange jump suits and blindfolds. Maria pulled Jen forcefully to the side to let the soldiers and their prisoners pass.
“I’m sorry, Jena, but it is best to stay out of their way,” Maria whispered to Jen after the soldiers passed. To Jen’s surprise the soldiers pushed each of the prisoners through a different doorway in the hallway and shut them in.
“So that’s who my neighbors are,” Jen thought. “They are prisoners too…and they are even less fortunate than me." The women continued to the hospital cafeteria but Jen didn’t have an appetite.
Over the next few days Jen saw at least twenty prisoners brought in. Unlike her, they were not permitted to leave their rooms. Guards would bring them food, and Jen would often see a nurse or the doctor entering and leaving the rooms, but the prisoners in orange stayed inside. About a week after they arrived the screaming started again. Every night, for twenty nights, Jen heard hysterical screaming followed by intense shouting and gun-shots. After the gun-shots it went quiet, and the following morning the air was filled with acrid smoke.
It was on the twenty-first day after the prisoners arrived, that Jen started receiving injections. The doctor looked haggard and ill that morning. If he had slept at all in the past two or three days, it certainly wasn’t for long. When she and Maria walked into the lab, Jen saw a shell of the man she met all those months before in the compound. He looked up from writing in a journal with dark, sunken eyes. His hair was messed and his clothes were wrinkled. Jen could smell strong body odor when they approached his work station. When he spoke, his words had no conviction or enthusiasm like before. It was almost as if he was reading lines from a script.
“Please, Jena, have a seat,” he said. Jena obediently sat down. “Today is a very important day. The vaccine is complete, and praise be to Allah, it has proven to be even more effective than I anticipated." He motioned for Maria to go to the door. Maria walked over to the door and placed a magnetic placard over its narrow rectangular window.
Jen looked at Maria with a concerned look. Maria gave Jen a wink and smiled reassuringly. “Jena, this time is a little different than before. I’ll be giving you a series of injections over the next few days, and monitoring you closely. This is standard protocol since your blood was the main ingredient in this vaccine. It won’t harm you. It’s how we ensure the vaccine will stay viable long term. Do you understand?"
Jen nodded nervously. “Okay, then. I’m going to need your shoulder exposed, so you’ll need to slip out of the dress." Jen looked at Maria nervously, and Maria smiled warmly again. Jen sighed and undressed as she was asked. When she was sitting again, the doctor continued.
He took a vial out of his pocket and set it carefully on the counter. Then he took a small syringe from a drawer and held it up in front of him. “Not so bad as the others, right?" The doctor took a pair of surgical gloves from his jacket pocket and put them on. He took a particle mask from the counter and slid it over his nose and mouth, and secured the rubber strap behind his head. “Do not worry, Jena. These are standard precautions, I assure you." He pulled the protective cap off of the needle and inserted it into the vial. Then he filled the syringe with a small amount of the liquid from the vial, and carefully brought it to Jena’s exposed arm. She felt a prick and some uncomfortable pressure and then it was over. The doctor placed a bandaid on her shoulder and said, “That’s it. You can get dressed.”
Jen put her dress and hijab back on, and began to walk to the door.
“Um, Jena,” said the doctor. I need you to be very careful over the next few days. I need to know right away about any scrapes or cuts, bruises, bloody noses or menstruations, okay? It’s extremely important."
Jen nodded and said, “Yes, doctor. I will keep you posted, and I will be careful too." She and Maria walked out of the lab and into the hallway. Jen asked her, “Wasn’t that weird? The doctor didn’t seem like himself today. Do you think he’s okay?" Maria just shrugged and kept walking. Jen noticed that Maria was more quiet than usual and didn’t walk as close as she normally did.
When they arrived at the mosque for Jen’s lesson with Imam Hassan, the old man came out excitedly to meet them. Jen saw him looking intently at Maria, who dropped her gaze to the ground and nodded quietly. The Imam’s smile grew wider and he extended his arms to Jen, but didn’t actually touch her. “That’s strange,” thought Jen. “Why is everyone acting different today?”
Maria left, as usual, while Jen and the Imam sat down for the day’s lesson. Imam Hassan looked into Jen’s eyes and spoke frankly with her, “Jena, when you came to me last summer you were unsure of Islam and uneducated in the teachings of the Holy Koran." His expression warmed and he smiled in that grandfatherly way he was so good at. “Now look at you. You have grown in faith and knowledge, even more than I hoped." The Imam stopped and wiped a tear from his eye. “I truly think of you as a daughter,” he said when he finally met her eyes again. “That’s why it is so hard for me to tell you what Allah has revealed about you to me.”
Jen froze. Her heart pounded in her chest and she clenched her fists tightly in her lap as she waited for the Imam to drop a bomb. “Oh no! What doe he know about me? Did someone hear me praying? Dear God, please help me!”
“Our time together is nearly finished. There is very little remaining for this old teacher to pass on to his favorite pupil." He leaned back against the bench and seemed to relax completely. It was as if he was simply a grandfather at this moment and not a holy man or leader. He leaned in conspiratorially and said, “Allah has chosen you for a sacred honor and magnificent duty, Jena. He revealed you are to be elevated and given the highest importance in the eyes of all believers. Daughter, believe me when I say you are now our most holy and prized daughter.”
Jen sat speechless. She had no idea what he was talking about, and it was beginning to frighten her.
Returning to a more formal seating position, and resuming his measured and professional tone, he said, “Your name, is no longer Jena, the Little Bird,” he said. “From this day on, you will be known as Jenna, which means Paradise.”
“Imam Hassan?” Jen asked. “I am confused. What is so important about me? Why am I being honored and renamed? What does this all mean?”
The old man smiled reassuringly, and said, “Jenna, all will be revealed soon enough. For now, you must go back to your room and rest. We will speak more at the hospital tomorrow.”
Jen looked toward the hospital and saw Maria approaching. It was as if she knew exactly how long their talk would take. When Maria joined them, the Imam took her aside and spoke with her privately for a few moments. Jen waited on the bench patiently, but she wished she could hear what they were saying. “Something is seriously weird about all of this,” she thought. “I am not some princess! I am a prisoner…”
“Jenna,” Maria said softly as she approached. “What a beautiful name. It is perfect for you." She smiled warmly and held a gloved hand out to Jen. It was early December and the air was crisp, but this was the first time Jen saw her wearing gloves.
Jen took her hand and stood. Imam Hassan returned to the mosque and the two women began walking back to the hospital. “I guess I am supposed to go rest now,” said Jen.
Maria nodded and said, “Yes, the Imam instructed me to make sure that you do. Would you like me to bring you something to help pass the time?" Jen nodded, and Maria added, “I’ll bring you some stories written in Farsi so you can practice your reading.”
On the way back to the hospital, Jen watched the guards and looked for anything that could help her escape. Something about the change in behavior toward her made her think that she would need to make a move soon or she might not get another opportunity.
When she and Maria entered the hos
pital, Jen was surprised to see that both of the guards were wearing hospital masks. When the women unwrapped their hijabs, the guards gave them masks to put on as well. Jen looked questioningly at Maria.
“Just put it on Jenna,” she said. “If they are wearing them, there must be a reason."
Jen noticed the guards staring at her. “What?” she wanted to ask. She tried to ignore it and followed Maria inside. Once they made it through the double doors and into the main hallway, she asked, “Did you see the staring at me? What was that about?”
“That,” said Maria. “Is something you need to get used to." They stopped in the hall and Maria turned to face her. “Jenna, whether you like it or not, something changed today. Imam Hassan has made a declaration about you. They are saying it is as if a Fatwa has been issued. That means it is like a ruling of law. Jenna, he didn’t change your name lightly. He has declared that you are the Holy Virgin of Islam. You are like a queen.”
Jen laughed out loud. She couldn’t help it. “That is ridiculous!” she said. “I am not anything special. For crying out loud, I haven’t even graduated high school!”
Maria did not smile. She straightened up and her nose went slightly into the air. Her eyes hardened and she pressed her lips together. Jen noticed immediately and realize she had offended her friend.
“I am sorry, Maria. That was rude and insensitive of me. I know I should be honored by all of this, and I guess I am…I’m just overwhelmed. This caught me off guard. I’m sure I’ll be able to reason this out once I’ve had a chance to think for a while, okay?”
Maria softened, and her nose came back down as she looked Jen in the eyes. “No, I should have realized how this would affect you. I can’t imagine how strange it must be." She took Jen’s hand and they continued walking down the hall. “You are still not fully accustomed,” she smiled. When they reached Jen’s door she said, “I am here, as always, if you need any advice or a shoulder to cry on."
“Thank you,” said Jen. She hugged Maria, and stepped into her room. The door closed behind her.
Jen stood in the room and tried to make sense of what was happening. “God, do you see this? I am a Christian; a woman no less, elevated to some kind of royalty in radical Islam!" She wanted to laugh again, and nearly tipped toward crying. She felt mirth, disbelief, uncertainty, fear, and sadness all at once. “I feel like I am balancing on a knife’s edge." Jen threw herself onto the bed and tried to clear her mind. “I don’t want to think about anything right now. I just want a peaceful nap.”
She pushed herself up and slipped out of the white dress and let it fall to the floor. Her hijab was already on the floor, and her hospital mask was resting on the desk. Jen suddenly noticed there was no dress set out for tomorrow. “Oh great,” she thought. “That means I’ll be getting a visitor at some point." A moment later she second guessed herself and picked up the dress and hijab from the floor. She carefully draped them over the chair by the desk just incase another dress was not delivered and she had to wear them again.
A little later she heard a knock on the door and a booklet appeared on the floor underneath. “Maria?” she asked through the door.
“Yes, Jenna?”
She considered her words for a moment and then said, “Thank you for being so kind to me.”
There was silence on the other side of the door.
“Maria?”
“Yes, Jenna?”
“…Good night.”
“Good night, Jenna." Jen could hear Maria’s footsteps as she walked down the hall away from her room.
Jen picked up the booklet from the floor and flipped through it. It was only a few pages long and included dramatic pictures of smiling children and others of proud parents. Jen lay on the bed and began reading the flowing Farsi script.
The first story was about a young boy who was orphaned by devastating missile attacks by the Israeli Defense Force in Palestine, and then taken in by militants and educated in a madrassa for orphans. He became a devout young man and volunteered to fight in the name of Allah against the “Zionist Pigs." Jen nearly put the booklet down, but she was curious how far this one sided propaganda would go. She kept reading. The boy became a martyr for the oppressed Palestinians at seven years old. The writer said the boy was wise beyond his years and had dedicated his life to Allah and returning the Palestinian people to their rightful home. Jen wondered if the boy even understood what he was doing when walked into a crowded checkpoint wearing a bomb. She also wondered if he initiated the explosion on his own. Someone else had almost certainly pressed the button that made him a martyr. She stared at the grinning picture of a small brown skinned, black haired boy with missing front teeth. She sighed and shook her head.
The next story was about a young Iranian girl who was apparently so filled with love for Allah that she volunteered at five years old to be a suicide bomber. Her parents proudly gave her to Al-Qaeda for that purpose. She was taken to Iraq and “sacrificed” herself for Allah by killing several US Soldiers and Shiite Muslims in a market place. The picture that accompanied this story, made Jen feel ill. There were two adults, a man and a woman, standing behind a young girl who wore a black burka and a suicide vest. The parents were smiling warmly with a hand on each of her shoulders, but the little girl in front looked terrified. Jen laid the book open on her chest and closed her eyes. She prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, please save these children. Strike down the evil men and women who are using them in this way and save the children Lord. Amen.”
She put the book aside and turned off the light. She slept until supper time, when she heard another knock on the door.
Jen hurried to slip the dress back over her head and answered the door. It was Maria with two trays of food. She wore her hospital mask and Jen felt foolish for forgetting hers. Jen rushed to put hers on.
“Don’t worry bout it Jenna,” she said. “We’re going to eat in here this evening, if you don’t mind, so let’s just leave them off." Maria set the trays on the desk and slipped her mask off.
They didn’t speak much. When they did, Maria asked that Jen speak in Farsi. “Our time is getting short, Jenna, and I am supposed to ensure that you are as fluent as possible. Speaking of being fluent; did you read the booklet I left?”
Jen chewed her food slowly, giving herself as mush time as possible to think before answering. “I did,” she finally said. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“Aren’t they inspirational?” asked Maria suddenly appearing excited.
“Inspirational?” thought Jen. “They were horrible stories, filled with lies and half truths!” she wanted to scream. Instead, she calmly replied, “They were so brave." She wanted to throw up as soon as she heard the words leaving her mouth. “I’m sorry, Maria, I am not feeling well.”
Jen put her utensils down and pushed her plate away from her. She stood up and went to sit on the bed. Maria, who sat on the edge of the bed, stood and traded places with her. “What’s the matter, Jenna?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Jen said. “I am suddenly feeling nauseous…maybe I should lay down." She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. What she first thought was simply a reaction to Maria’s words and attitude toward the victimized children, was becoming something much worse. “I think something is wrong,” she said. The room started to spin and it felt like a vice was being tightened against her skull. “I’m worried, Maria. Please, get the doctor.”
Jen’s whole body ached and her head was pounding so hard she couldn’t think. “What is happening?" She heard the door open and close quickly, and suddenly felt extremely hot. She writhed on the bed and moaned in discomfort. Needing relief from the heat, she rolled off the bed and onto the cool floor. “Oh!” she cried out. It felt as if her head exploded as she connected with the floor. The cool tile soothed where it touched her bare skin, but the overpowering pain in her head made it impossible to truly feel relief.
Jen lay on the floor and groaned in misery. She couldn’t see. Perhaps her e
yes were closed, or maybe she was blind. She felt strong hands lift her off of the floor and place her on a gurney. She was aware of voices, the sound of rolling wheels, banging, clanking, and felt some jostling. “Please, make it stop!” she moaned. There was a prick in her arm and everything sank away into a vast darkness.
Chapter Sixteen
A man’s muffled voice called to her, “Jenna. Are you awake?”
“Who is that?” she wondered.
“Jenna? Can you hear me?” the man’s voice asked again. It was strangely muffled, but familiar.
A sliver of light intruded into her comfortable refuge and she tried to raise her arm to block it out. Her arm was pinned. Suddenly, Jen realized she was lying down and there was someone leaning over her, peering into her face. She opened her eyes and saw a gloved hand pull back away from her face. “What are you doing?” she shouted. “Leave me alone!”
“You are awake,” the muffled voice said. Jen blinked and the room came into focus. She was in a hospital room and there was clear plastic from floor to ceiling in place all around her bed. The doctor, who’s voice she recognized, was standing next to her bed. He was wearing a fully enclosed biological and chemical resistant suit. His face was visible through a clear panel in the front of the head portion, and he appeared to be smiling at her. “I’m glad to see you,” he said. “You gave me quite a scare.”
“What happened?” asked Jen as her head began to clear. She looked down her body and saw that she was secured to the bed with heavy duty straps. “Why am I tied down?”
“It’s okay, Jenna. You are safe,” he explained. “You had a reaction to the vaccine and suffered a significant fever episode. Because of the fever, you had a seizure. I thought it was best to tie you down for your own safety. I’ll have the nurses remove the restraints, okay? Can you tell me how you feel?"