Human Sister

given him for Christmas. He waved until Grandpa placed an arm around his shoulders and said something to him. Then he put his fingers to his lips, blew a kiss my way, and he and Grandpa got into the security car, which sped off.
    “There, now,” the man sitting beside me said. “It looks like everyone’s figured out what’s what.” He reached down and took hold of my carry-on. “I’ll take care of this for you. Please give me your boarding pass. I’ll have someone claim your checked luggage.”
    He took the bag onto his lap, and I handed him my pass. He stood and gestured for me to enter the aisle ahead of him. As I did, the man in the dark suit entered the plane. He walked briskly toward us and stopped in front of me.
    “This is Mr. Casey,” Smith said. “He’s also a member of the investigating team.”
    This short but powerful looking man with deep-set gray eyes acknowledged me with a minatory scowl. “I’ll take the bag,” he said. “Where’s the boarding pass?”
    Smith handed him the bag and the pass. Casey took them and walked away.
    I retrieved my jacket from the overhead bin and walked out of the plane ahead of Smith. In the jetway, a woman held open a door and indicated I should go through it. I stepped, trembling now, through the door, followed by Smith, and down the stairs leading to the airfield where Casey was waiting in a car.
    Casey drove us to another terminal where Smith and I got out of the car and entered a door marked IMMIGRATION: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Smith took me to a small room furnished in a manner appropriate for a doctor’s office: examination table, two chairs, body scanner, washbasin, red biohazard container, dispensers for examination gloves and paper towels, and cabinets below a working surface on which a computer monitor sat. In the far wall was another door.
    “Immigration didn’t give us the most comfortable room,” Smith said, “but we’ll make do. Hopefully, this won’t take long. Please, have a seat.”
    I hung my coat on the back of one of the chairs and sat. He asked whether I was comfortable. I nodded. He asked whether I would like something to drink. I shook my head. He moved the second chair in front of me and sat.
    “Well, then, let’s get started. This room is usually used to examine suspected smugglers who try to hide drugs and other illegal items in every conceivable part of their bodies. Kind of a cat-and-mouse game. Here, the cat always wins. But we don’t suspect you of anything like that. In fact, you can relax because we don’t suspect you of any wrongdoing whatsoever. We know you’re a nice, intelligent, and law-abiding young woman. Maybe someday you’ll be a famous scientist, like your grandfather.”
    I remembered something Grandpa had said about how government interrogations usually begin: They disguise themselves as flowers so the bees and butterflies will come.
    Smith uncrossed his legs and leaned toward me. “What we’re concerned about is that some people you might have come in contact with on your trip to Calgary may be involved in activities detrimental to the security of the United States. So, what I’d like to do is get a clear picture of everything you did and everyone you saw from the time you left here a couple of weeks ago. Okay?”
    I focused my eyes on his knees, which he then covered with his hands.
    “All right. Let’s start with your departure from here on Air Canada, flight 2711. You went with Elio. Right?”
    His fingers began tapping on his knees. Then, in a soothing voice he said, “Sara, please don’t be afraid to talk with me. I’m not trying to get you or Elio in any kind of trouble. I’m simply asking for your help.”
    I didn’t look up. He recrossed his legs.
    “Okay, let’s move on. When you arrived in Calgary, you were picked up by your parents, right?”
    I kept my gaze frozen on one of his knees, and my mind concentrated on one thought: No matter what, I’ll give no response.
    He stood and began pacing. “Come, come, now. I like you. We had a nice chat on the plane. I have a boy nearly your age. I know you’re inclined to resist authority at your age, but you want to do the right thing, don’t you?”
    I fixed my eyes on a leg of his chair.
    “Sara, you’re a U.S. citizen, just like me, and one of the things we have to do, whether we like it or not, is abide by the laws of our country, laws that were created and approved by people like you and me. One of those laws is that we