City Island
This is part 3. Here is part 1. And 2.
Some time afterwards they felt well enough to walk around, and besides, they had to pee. They got up and opened the door, which opened into a quiet hallway that emptied into a carousel seating area where people were lazing and tapping on phones. A nurse passed by and they asked her how to get to the bathroom. She directed them to keep going down the hall a ways and turn left, there would be a sign. They had been inside a narrow hospital room in a typical bed with their partner seated on one side, with no other people present. They had assumed they were in a clinic, a hospital, some sort of medical facility, but it seemed like they were actually in a mall. The bathroom had normal toilet stalls and the seating was surrounded by a glass wall, but the glass was too wavy to make out any distinguishing features from the outside world. It was a mall with no stores.
“Where are we?” they asked their partner upon returning to the room.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out,” he said. “The doctor who was here while you were sleeping didn’t really answer my question.”
“Did you go to the bathroom yet?”
“Yeah, it’s like, kind of like a mall out there?”
“That’s what I thought.”
Their partner tried to figure out the location using the GPS on his phone, but the screen would only show an error message. They got up and went out to the seating area.
“Excuse me,” they cleared their throat, which was hoarse and parched. They felt shy suddenly, facing a woman in her thirties who was wearing a blazer. “This is going to sound strange, but can you tell me where we are right now?”
The woman did not smile, but she looked sympathetic and grave. “This is the city island,” she said with finality, as if she had recited a latitude and longitude.
“I’m sorry,” they said. “I had surgery and wasn’t conscious and was taken somewhere else from where I started out. What city? Can you tell me where the island is?
“Oh, I’m sorry, Yes, well yes, we’re on an island off Gibraltar, in the main city, which is also an island.”
“Wait, what? Is this a joke?”
“Oh, no, it’s not. Who did you come in with?”
“I went to Dr. Allen’s clinic in Houghton and now I’m in Gibraltar? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, we’re not on Gibraltar, it’s an island nearby, I—”
They felt themselves flush and their heart was pounding. It was as if they had gotten on the wrong bus and were about to be weeks late to an important engagement.
“Thanks very much,” they said, cutting the woman off. “I appreciate your help,” they added while turning back towards their room.
They rushed into the room and started to blurt what they had been told, but the doctor was there, their original doctor from the clinic.
“Gibraltar?” asked their partner.
“It’s time for us to explain a little more,” said the doctor.
“There’s a lot more than explaining that has to happen,” said their partner, but the doctor stopped him with a look.
“First I want to explain the medical side of things. Won’t you have a seat?” she asked, indicating the bed. They sat down with their back away from the elevated headrest and their knees drawn up.
The doctor allowed them to settle.
“The caps on your ovaries, really your fallopian tubes, will disintegrate in one month. In that time, you will stay here at City Island—”
“Is it actually true, that we’re just, in the Mediterranean, somehow?” their partner cut in.
“Technically we’re on the Atlantic side. Please, just one moment, I’ll show it to you on the map, but first it’s very important for you to understand your medical situation.” Their partner shifted in his seat but allowed her to continue.
“During the month that you spend here with us, we’ll show you why we’re doing this, you’ll meet some people who will explain the gravity of our position, people who have decided to stay here on City Island.”
“A month!” he sputtered. “I’m going to lose my job. I can’t even make a call from here. First you sterilize them and then you kidnap us? This is the—”
The doctor looked at him briefly. “As I was saying, after one month of instruction with the people here, you will be free to leave. You will be free to choose if you want to try to conceive with another practitioner. You can go back to work.”
“How will I explain this to my employer, this is—”
“That has been taken care of,” said the doctor, who managed to convey perfect serenity even while dominating the conversation. “You will be able to go right back where you left off, if you so choose.”
“How? Did you call them?”
“Arrangements have been made.”
They looked at her.
“Alright, now I’m going to show you where we are,” said the doctor. She pulled a map open from a roll on the wall, and pointed.
