Laughing Lunacy They come for her. Those two, a pair, a team, dressed in white.

They come after the call. We blame them. We fight them. They get out. Slam. Slam. The lights are still bright, still flashing. Its loud distress signal is off now. Its siren is silent. They push us aside. They walk in. We dont invite them in. We dont open the door. We dont greet them. We just stand here. A statue firmly planted where they pushed us. Why? Why do we just stand? We should yell. We should fight. We should push back. We stand. One returns. He doesnt look at us. He doesnt spare us a glance. We are invisible. We could be naked, dancing, he wouldnt see. We could run. Should we? He moves fast, precise, now. It wont help. Its useless to try, really. He opens one door. He opens the other. We watch as he pulls the long white table out. The wheels drop. Clack. They click on the sidewalk. Click. Click. Click. He stops at the door. He looks at us. He hates us. How long? How long what? we ask. How long has she been like this? Like this? Cold? Cruel? Calculated? How long have we been like this? Weve been like this for as long as shes been like this. We laugh, Forever.

2 He goes in. We stand here. We wait. They are swearing inside. They are lifting and placing and monitoring. Too late. We want to say this to their faces. We want to shake them. Punch them. Weep on them as they come out. We cant. We have no voice. No words right now. Our tongue doesnt move. Instead, we watch. They push her past us. Shes not laughing now. Not now. Now, she disappears inside. Her eyes open, un-laughing. She doesnt blink. She sees. Shes still there, barely. Barely alive, barely laughing. But we stopped the words, we can stop the laughing. One of them follows her in. The other closes the door. Slam. SlamSlam L-l-late, You were late, we say. Go Screw Yourself. Thank You, I will. We heard that before. Shed said that. Shed screamed that. Shed spat that. With every word, every breath made us flinch. She is cold. She was cruel. She was calculated with her words. The less words the more pain. Words were pain. Laughter was pain. She was pain. She made us. We loved her. We love her. We hated her. We hate her. We love her. We grin. They took her. The lights continue. The loud danger signal is on. They came for her. Those two, a pair, a team, dressed in white. They came after the call. * * *

We wait. She always keeps us waiting. Here we sit. We sit where everything lacks color. Everything is unnaturally loud here. The white doesnt absorb sound. We

3 notice this as we sit here. Maybe thats why everyone talks in a murmur? Every voice is lowered as if in doing so they will make everything else quite down. Shh, quiet world. You are too loud. We grin. They are fools. Our grin drops. Are we the fool? We sit here and wait for her. Why do we do this? We do this for her. Its her fault. She did this. We blame her. We fought her. We were not always like this. She made us this. We were one. We gave up. We broke because of her. The less words the more pain. Words were pain. She was pain. She made us. Her words, the pain. To protect. To stay safe. To remain us. We split; there was the strong and the weak, we became the weak. Her with her laughter. Her with her words. Pain. We became the fool. Sitting. Staying. Waiting. Two in One. But we know. We know what they dont. The murmurs, the unnatural sounds cant drown out her laughing. Oh, no. We hear it. The minute we sat here we heard it, hear it. No, the laughter drowns out everything else. The world goes mute except for the laughing. The box is on. At first it was silent, gray fuzz. Someone hit it. Violence always works. We know violence is the solution. The square shakes. It rocks on its hinges and the people in it vibrate as they go about their violence. First, it holds animal personifications being hit by anvils and frying pans. Next come women slapping men, who slap women, who pull a gun. Then, men who beat their wives sit down and have a chat. This is followed by a murder, a gang war, a hockey fight and a world war. After, a person is killed and a suspect is roughed up. Finally, Asians kick at each other. The end we think. Then it repeats. Violence after violence, the strong versus the weak, laughter, words; only the whole thing is silent. The laughter, her laughter is too loud that it even silences the words scrolling across the bottom. They are a blur.

4 The words are pain. The words are violence. She is pain. She is violence to us, towards us. She is laughter and words and pain. Not that we care. Not that we notice. Its just, the box is a means to measure the passing time. Each revolution we mark. We wait. We hold it against her. Here everything seems suspended. We are suspended. Here we are nothing, a smudge in the perfect white. Silent but here. Mute except for the laughter, but still here. Even the man in the coat is mute. Hes been looking at his chart and shuffling his feet. He looks at a nurse then straightens and walks over here. He doesnt want to be here. We dont want him here. We dont want to be here. He doesnt want to be the one doing this news, my local news. We dont want to hear it. We know it already. We know her. His mouth moves. He gestures. He taps his board. Tap. Tap. Tap. We sit here head lowered, voice mute, hands clasped. His mouth moves faster. He gestures wider. He taps his board harder. TAP. TAP. TAP. We sit here head lowered, voice mute, hands clasped. He throws the board. It clatters on the white floor. We watch it. His chest moves up and down, up and down, UP and DOWN. He stands, his voice measured, his fists at his side. Why dont you just let her die then, comes through the laughter to us. Thank You, I will.

5 He stares at us. Surprise voids his features. He is a blind fool. We are a trained fool. She is a laughing one. Everyone is a fool. We stopped the words, we can stop the laughter. * * *

Shes there. We are here. They let us in. We are hers, thats why they led us, let us in. We cant see her. We cant really see anything there. It feels like an interrogation room. Its not. Its the viewing room. We get to view her. We get to laugh. She doesnt. Three plain, no windowed walls and the fourth a wide, dark window was placed right in front of us. And us in front of it. The lights are on here. We can see it reflect off metal and form outlines of objects on the opposite side of the window. Its dark. Its cold. We are cold. She is cold. We grin. It drops. They are standing right behind us. One in a white coat, another in white and one in dark blue stand here. We hate them. They are too close. They watch us. They talk about us. They think we cant hear. They think we cant see. We do. Close, too close. They are the ones that cant see us. They cant hear the laughing. They cant. We know they cant. We let them stand there, for now. We let them think they know us. Know her. We love her, loved her, love her. We let them be like her. We grin. Like her they will stop laughing. Like her we will stop the words. For now they are just a snicker we hear. They are a giggle now and again amidst hers. A minuscule blip on the radar. Blip. Blip. Blip. The one in the coat comes forward. He stands there, keeping a foot between us and him. Scared? Disgusted? In control? We care not. The space is laughableor is he

6 laughing at us, laughing that we are here, that we need the space? Laughing like she was laughing, cruel, calculated, cold. We pause. Was it a test? There is a purpose to every move. There is a reason behind every laugh. Pain behind every word. We dont have enough air. We shift. We gasp. We look away. We are the weak. He pushes the button. The lights come on in there. Its metal and white. Cold. It looks cold, sterile, and barren, except her or like her. Our eyes glance at her. We see her. She has a stiff line to her lips and is too pale. Shes still. Eyes closed. She lays there. Like she laid there every night. Nothing. No emotions. No response. She is. She was. She is, silently laughing at us, at our attempts to be the strong. Like her words laughed at our attempts to fight, to love, to live with her, to remain us. She laughed, over and over, again and again. She laughed at the weak, at us. She laughed at the two in one. She spoke words to hurt us, laughs to pain us. Just like she is laughing now. We are sure. Somehow she is laughing. She knows where we are. She knows why we are here. She did this. We blame her. She was selfish. Shes there, in there. We are here. We are the weak, more often than not. We are hers. We were hers, we were, now we are theirs. We step back. We nod. We cant breathe. We dont have enough air. She doesnt have any. Shes laughing. They take it as guilt. We know better. We know its the strong. Its coming. She did this. She left us with no other choice. We love her, we loved her, we love her.

7 Mr. C.O.D, You have to come with us now. Thank You, I will. We walk head lowered, voice measured, hands clasped. The cuffs chafe. Harvester C.O.D, You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you Thank You, I will. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you? * * *

I watch as rows and row of metal doors go by. Little windows with bars pass. Muffled voices come from the insides. I stand on the wheelie cart as they push me. The wheels squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. I am the strong. I grin. They cant see it behind the muzzle. My hands are wrapped and bound in long white sleeves. They twist around me, secure. I am chained to the wheelie cart but I am the strong. The ones before, they; they arent laughing anymore. I killed them. I didnt kill her. They killed her. She killed her. I didnt kill her. My wife. My laughing, cold, cruel, calculating wife. These ones, they are beginning to find the amusement, to chuckle softly, but for now it is insignificant. She is still laughing. I am sure. I hear her. I see wariness in their eyes. I cock my head to listen. Somehow she still laughs. As long as

8 she does, eventually, they will too. Laughter is contagious, inevitable. I cant have that. I am the strong. Only I laugh. The wheelie cart stops in front of an open door. Its white. Bare. Sterile. They unchain me. Still bound they prod me with an electric cattle zapper. Not too close. I step off. I do not hesitate. I do not scurry. I do not cringe away. I walk in. The door closes not with a slam but with a beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Maximum Security. We laugh. Get comfortable, Youre here for the long haul, bud, they laugh. Thank You, I will. -Laura Prosser