“Why does your flight ticket say ‘To SIN’?” Vlada asks in Russian shortly after sunrise, after releasing a long, deep sigh.
The rest of the night had been spent trying to spot clues that her trigger might be the Devil in disguise, or manipulated by the Devil, and she is now exhausted, on top of being no closer to the answer. Asking outright was her last resort.
“Does it?” Her trigger says, looking genuinely surprised. She snatches up the ticket Vlada had left on a side table and reads the text on it with wide eyes. “My goodness. You’re right. But maybe it’s just short for Singapore? To Singapore? They couldn’t have fit in the whole word otherwise.”
Vlada takes a few seconds to run that explanation through her heart and eventually decides it does make a little bit of sense. “Well, the boy who gave me the ring was young,” she says. “Not old like me. So maybe it’s you who has to give the ring away. Not me.”
Her trigger, who is seated on the bed with her, inhales sharply in response to that comment and appears startled.
For a moment, Vlada holds her breath, thinking this might be the Devil’s big reveal at last, where he lets slip a clue that would make her see something she hadn’t before but then her trigger says...
“Damn, you’re right. I could have just given this away myself a long time ago. And I should have. All that time wasted—”
Muffled laughter rings out behind the door. Men outside joking in a language Vlada doesn’t understand, one voice sounding particularly familiar.
“I think it’s the doctor,” she hisses to Dasha. “Hide! Quick! I think he’s about to come in!”
True enough, a knock sounds on the door and the handle on it turns seconds after. Without further warning, the door swings open and the same bearded, bespectacled dark-skinned doctor—the Hindu—who had attended to Vlada the day before walks in with a folder in his hands, all smiles.
“Good morning, Miss Lysenko,” he says to Vlada, with a grin that seems to verify that it is indeed a very good morning today. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you,” Vlada says, while feeling her bed shake from her trigger having only just darted underneath it, her heart pounding hard with worry that the doctor might see her trigger and take her goodness knows where for illegal break and entry.
To distract him, and to hide the pounding she can feel thumping in her ears and rib cage, she puts on a reciprocal big grin, points at his folder and asks, “Is that my blood report?”
“Very clever,” he says, still grinning from ear to ear although it is not obvious why. “And I’ve got good news. Your blood work is clear: no drugs, no bacteria, no virus, nothing contagious, no anomalies, so you’re free to go. Right now, actually. The officers will be in in ten minutes to escort you back to the airport where you can either enter Singapore to find that minister you want, or catch a flight to wherever it is you would prefer to go next. Any questions?”
“So... I’m not sick?” Vlada asks. That thought alone distracts her from worrying about the trigger under her bed and makes her feel that little bit better.
“Well, you might be. I cannot diagnose it because I’m really just a general practitioner, but there are specialists out there who might be able to help you. Maybe in your home country, where it will be cheaper?” His face remains in happiness, reveals nothing more.
“So I have a disease? Is that what you’re telling me? Not a... a curse?”
He almost looks like he wants to laugh but controls the urge swiftly. “No. I haven’t diagnosed anything yet. Like I said, I’m just a general practitioner. You’ll need to go to a specialist to know exactly what’s going on. Okay, Miss Lysenko? Any other questions before I let you out to flood the world with the word of Jesus?”
He laughs aloud like the last line was meant to be a friendly joke but she doesn’t. There is nothing funny to her about the disbelieving she picks out in his tone, or the way his face looks like it might be tinged with sarcasm.
“All right,” he adds after she does not reply. “Then I’ll give you some time to freshen up and pack up before the officers come for you. I wish you all the best and a very nice day ahead.”
With that he leaves and closes the door behind him, speaking and laughing again with some people on the outside as he goes, in that language Vlada does not understand.
Her trigger climbs out from under the bed at once. “Was he making fun of you for spreading the word of God?” she whispers while straightening out her clothes and sweeping dust off her hair.
“He’s an unbeliever. He doesn’t get it.” Vlada leans back down on the bed and closes her eyes, too heavy and drained now for further explanations.
It feels almost as if the end might now be nearer than she thought it would be. Her body feels frozen. Impossible to move easily. Like it is just a heavy piece of matter and not at all hers to use freely anymore.
“Suffering might purify his soul and bring him back to God,” is the last thing she hears her trigger say while her eyes remain closed, her world nothing but darkness. “Some difficulties with the Devil might do him more good than harm.”
Vlada opens her eyes to ask what her trigger means by that but by the time she can see again, her trigger is already gone.
The sole window in the room, however, remains open.