Viktor

Customs

“Passport, please.  Reason for your visit?”

I said, “Vacation.”

The charcoal-unformed agent asked, “Is this a picture of you, in your passport?”

I said, “Yes, it’s not a good picture, I know.”

The customs officer scanned me without emotion and said, “Step aside please.  Remove your jacket and proceed to the Inquiry desk.”

My wife said, “Should I go with my husband?”

“No,” said the customs agent, “You are of no interest.”

Inquiry Desk

A woman wearing a sidearm and badge asked, “Are you Jack Bonner from Kansas?”

“That’s me,” I said.

“Birthday June 20?”

“Every year,” I said, trying to keep it light.

“Do you go by other names as well?”

“My wife calls me ‘honey’.”

She pointed to a nameless door and said, “The guard will escort you to holding.”

I asked, “Holding what?”

Holding

“What is this place?” I asked.

“Let’s call it the visitor’s lounge,” said a man in a tight suit and loose tie.

“Why am I here?”

He looked at his clipboard, “Facial recognition identifies you as Viktor Petrov.”

“That’s crazy.  I have my rights.”

He said, “In this country, only government has rights.”

“No phone call?” I asked.

“No, you get a van ride to Central.”

Central

A bald woman asked me, “Have you ever been to Prague?”

I said, “No.”

“Vladivostok?”

I said, “Never.  I’ve been to Disneyworld and Sandals.  This is my first time out of the country.”

She leaned toward me and said, “Viktor, you can’t fool facial recognition.”

“I’m Jack,” I said, “Not Viktor.  Jack, Jack, Jack.”

She said, “Your baggage is being dissected.  It’s a matter of time,” and walked out.

Trial

A judge behind a high bench said, “Viktor Petrov, we are pleading guilty on your behalf, to save time.”

I said, “I’m Jack Bonner.  Look at my passport.”

The judge said, “Your passport is why you are here.  Your face and Petrov’s face are one face.”

“Do I get an attorney?” I asked.

He said, “All attorneys are loyal to the government.”

“Do I have a right to remain silent?” I asked.

“Yes.  We prefer you remain silent.” he said.

Prison

They took my clothes and gave me gray pajamas.

I asked, “Are these clean?”

A man in a stained apron said, “The last man to wear them didn’t complain.”

I was restrained in a chair, and my hair was buzzed off.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

Then he shaved off my beard, “So lice will have no place to hide.”

My beard was sprinkled on the floor, and my face was naked.  He looked at me, looked at his clipboard, and picked up a phone.

Appeal

The judge looked down on me.  “Jack Bonner, are you still guilty?”

“No,” I said, “but at least you got my name right this time.”

He said, “We shaved your beard, and suddenly you are not Viktor at all.  Not even close.”

I said, “Are you saying you made a mistake?”

He said, “We never say that.  Never.”

“Am I free to go?”  I asked.

“After some paperwork.”
“How long?” I asked.

“Several days.  Facial recognition bureau is unhappy, and slow.”

Airport

I embraced my wife, “Honey, are you okay?  Did they treat you badly?”

She said “I’m fine.  They put me in a grand hotel.  I had room service.  Where were you?”

I said, “Purgatory, then hell.  I thought my life was over.”

She said, “You’re safe now.  We’re going home. We’ll be in the air in fifteen minutes.”

I said, “I won’t feel safe until we’re home.”

She said, “Well, you know what they say.”

“What the hell do they say,” I asked.

“Viktor, you remember, ‘Kos Kuchenko.  Vikh Toyarsk.” 

I said “I can’t believe you got to stay in a hotel this time.”