Perceived Insanity

A Girl Unjustly Murdered

Even before he had seen her face, William had wondered if the young girl Gideon described could possibly be his sister. His suspicion did not provide sufficient preparation for the truth, however. He looked at her face, and took in her disheveled appearance, breathing rapidly in an effort to to maintain control of his features. Then he buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

Gideon guessed almost immediately why his new acquaintance was reacting so strongly to the sight of the young girl. He never considered distrusting the young man's story, and had thought it was too great a coincidence to be dismissed. He had chosen to say nothing about his suspicions until he knew for sure they were correct.

He looked with pity at the young man beside him.

"She's your sister, isn't she," whispered the janitor. He wondered why the government had killed her, and why they thought she was not worthy of a burial. He had not been sure, initially, if she was perhaps an orphan whom the government had not cared enough for to bury her. When he saw William's reaction to her face, he became more sure she had done something to offend the government.

William nodded, speechless.

"She get killed for the same reason you were kicked out of the town?" Gideon wondered, his voice quiet and sympathetic.

"Why would it matter to you?" William asked, his tone wary and defensive. He had been trying to redirect his thoughts from what had happened since he had arrived at the garbage dump. His sister had told him a little of her life before returning to the community, and it had not been hard to find the home she had described to him. He had left it alone, for it reminded him of what was too painful to think about. All morning he had worked diligently, finding old tools, appliances, and wood with which it might be possible to construct a shelter. The work had, for a time, diverted his attention, but the pain had not been enough to prevent his return to his sister's former abode. There he had met the janitor, and all the suffering had begun again. He had no wish to share her story with a man with whom he was barely acquainted.

"Didn't mean to offend you," Gideon replied, sounding rather offended himself. He felt he had been putting forth enough effort to sympathize with the girl's brother, and to be understanding. They did not know each other's circumstances well enough to understand each other's motivations and struggles.

"I am sure you had no intention of hurting my feelings. I apologize," said William. He told Gideon of what had happened to his sister, to the best of his knowledge. After doing so, he proceeded to explain what his own reaction had been and how it had contributed to his choice to follow in his sister's footsteps.

For a long time, neither spoke. Gideon looked down at the girl, his eyes wide and shocked. He had never imagined the freedom everyone cherished so greatly in their community could fail to apply to some individuals. It was easy to comprehend why murder, theft, and other such activities were illegal. Why the government had chosen to assign a heavier penalty to leaving the community than to such actions that were truly wrong, in the eyes of all but the offenders, was a question Gideon did not want to answer. The truth was not something he wanted to accept. It was easier to believe in a lie, to live in an illusion of perfection.

To know it was an illusion and not the truth destroyed the purpose of the illusion, however, and so Gideon thought for many minutes about the government's reasons for killing the girl. They were, in restricting the freedom of its citizens to come and go as they pleased, restricting the freedom of its citizens to change the rules and values under which they existed.

"I had no idea the government would do something like that," the janitor said finally. "I'm sure it has been really painful for you."

"Yeah," William muttered. "Let us bury her." He grabbed his shovel roughly and gestured to his companion, pulling the cart on which his sister lay as he marched off toward the gate. To one side of the gate there was a patch of uncovered grass unmarked by tires or feet, and it was in this patch William began to dig. Gideon followed him, picking up the shovel lent him and shoving the tool into the dirt with all his might.

For several hours they dug, unaware of the passing of time, ignoring the sweat running down their necks. The work was new and unusual to Gideon. He was physically capable of doing the work, but he had never done such a job for any reason other than to earn money. Now he was doing it out of love and compassion for other human beings, both the girl and William. The work gave him time to think, if not the breath to speak his thoughts, and he reflected on his life in the community. He had believed in everything the government wanted him to wholeheartedly up to that point, but felt the time had come to reevaluate his beliefs. He did not trust the government after hearing William's story. He believed William, for William could not have known his errand before telling him his sister had died.

Gideon decided, by the time they had finished digging a grave, he had no wish to return to the community. The only thing preventing him from staying was his family. He had a wife and an unborn child he had to provide for. He could see life in a garbage dump would not be the ideal childhood for his baby, and he loved his wife too much to take her away from her whole life.

He helped William lift the girl's body into the grave, then pile dirt over her body.

"I think she would be happy to know she was buried in her backyard," William smiled, tears forming. But he brushed them away and turned to Gideon.

"Here, I can take your shovel. Thank you for allowing me to help you," he said quietly.

"Thank you for helping me and allowing me to use your shovel," the janitor returned the thanks. William nodded and turned to walk away. The janitor stood where William left him, staring at the patch of dirt under which lay a girl unjustly murdered. Gideon sighed, wrapping his jacket around his arms, and left.