Anna spent two days in her bed. She'd have spent longer, but the night matron insisted on taking her to the infirmary. When the nurse released her after another day spent in bed there, with no physical symptoms, she suggested that Anna had only been faking. Matron Camilla had been there to witness the beginning of her heartbreak, so she knew better and took some pity on her.
Her pity, however, was not unlimited. Anna was forced to eat and drink, and would only do so under a matron's supervision, and was thus prevented from starving herself, but the extra strain on the matrons' workload was not appreciated. Other than Camilla, they had all stopped doing so by the end of the first week.
It was at that point that the punishments started. She'd missed all of her daily duties and wouldn't even leave her cell for count. It was clear that the dark room would hardly work; even if she wasn't already used to it, it would only consist of the exact same inaction she was already doing, but in the dark. All they could do was take away her gain time for the month. It made her seeing Elsa all the farther away.
This would have been far more effective if Anna still believed that Elsa would be waiting for her when she was released. She had known that eventually the visitations would diminish, and had been surprised by how long they'd been every single day, but she had never expected her sister to just disappear after their mother's death. Neither of them should be going through this alone, but because of Elsa, they both were.
Or because of her. The thought crept into her head and wouldn't leave no matter what she tried. It only made her malaise that much more unbearable. If she hadn't been so rash, so angry, during her first years here, then she'd have already been released. Instead she fought Eleanor, then she fought Katrina, Mabel, Hillary, Nora, and Janette. The last two hadn't even started the fights; she'd been lucky she hadn't had an assault charge added onto her sentence instead of just losing any gain time she'd accrued. If it hadn't been for her own actions, she'd have been able to be there for her mother. She'd have been able to be there for Elsa. She wouldn't be stuck in that dingy little cell, without any of the people who cared for her. She wouldn't be alone.
A knock sounded on her door. She ignored it. It was doubtless just a matron with some food to force down her throat. She wasn't feeling up to it, she was still full from the day before. It wasn't as if she ever did anything to burn off the calories anyway.
The knock came again. She continued to ignore it.
The woman ignored her ignoring her and came in. “Anna, it's been over a week, you have to get out of bed. We're all worried about you,” Claire said, sitting down at Anna's feet.
Anna didn't have it in her to reply. She just stared at the wall, waiting for the woman crushing her feet to either go away or for the bed to break under their combined weight.
Apparently she'd lost more weight from starving herself than she'd thought, as the bed stayed whole. “We gave you your space. We tried visiting time and again, and we're not letting you ignore us anymore. We're your friends, stop pushing us away. I know how scared you are right now, I know how much Elsa means to you, and how much you mean to her. I may not approve of how you show it, but you've both made that more than clear over the years.”
Anna very much doubted that Elsa had done anything of the sort. She'd been very intent on proving just the opposite.
“I know you think that she was showing that she didn't, but that was just evidence of how much she did care. She wasn't willing to let you get hurt.”
She was just doing it to protect herself.
“You know you were always her first priority.” Her hand fell on Anna's back, petting awkwardly before she pulled back.
Anna almost laughed. She was scared of catching some of her sinful behavior. So much for having accepted her.
“Anna, get up!” The pressure lifted from her feet.
Just when she was starting to believe that Claire had given up on her, she felt two great hands grip her shoulders and haul her to her feet. “Let go of me,” she muttered halfheartedly. She couldn't even muster up the strength to feel angry. She just wanted to crawl back into her bed and die.
“You're coming to prayer group.”
She blinked and turned back to her bed.
Before she knew it she was in the air again and was being carried away from her room. She was soon placed in a chair, in front of Charity, Margery, and Ruth, with Claire taking the final seat. She didn't have it in her to fight. Maybe they'd let her return to bed when this was over.
“We're worried about you,” Charity insisted.
Anna only glared at her.
“We've gone over and over how much we think your relationship is bad for you, but that's not what matters here. You two are still together, we've accepted that –”
“We're not –” Anna began, too insistent on the lie for even her melancholy to overpower it.
“So you can still talk. It's more than clear that that's not the case, we're not going to tell anyone, we know how hard you're working to be a better person. But you're letting it all destroy you. I don't know exactly what happened between you two, but you're going to end up adding time to your sentence at this rate. Don't you want to be out there? Don't you want to be able to be with Elsa again?” She was pulling out all the stops.
Anna's glare only intensified. “Of course I do.” Her voice trailed off as she prepared herself to voice the problem aloud. “I just don't think she does anymore.”
Charity blinked.
Claire placed a hand on her shoulder, causing an involuntary recoil from Anna. “Why do you think that? She's certainly seemed to care. As much as she tried to hide it, it was pretty obvious she just wanted a life for you two.”
“If it was so obvious why did you let her in your group? Or me?”
Claire's eyes fell from Anna, along with her hand. “For a while we thought she'd really changed. By the time we'd realized what she really wanted, she was already family – terrible choice of words – and we couldn't just turn our back on her.”
“Not that we didn't continue to teach her that incest is wrong,” Charity added.
“Just that it wasn't enough to make us stop accepting her. Or you.”
Charity grasped her hand. “She made me promise to take care of you while she was gone. I thought you just needed time, but if I had let this go on any longer, then I would clearly not be living up to my word. Please, you have to talk to us, let us help you.”
Anna wanted to run, to go back to her bed, to bury herself under the blankets and just let the world envelop her. She wanted to not say a word, to fight against them. But all of these things would have taken far too much energy, and she had so little left. “Our mother died.”
Claire swallowed audibly. Charity's eyes grew wider, her jaw slacking. Margery actually looked up from her book to pay attention to the intervention they were attempting to throw. Ruth blinked. “But, but you – You said that you were finally patching things up with her. That she was in your life again. Did you know she was even sick? Was she sick?”
Anna groaned. She didn't want to talk about it. “They didn't bother to tell me.”
“That doesn't sound like Elsa,” Claire insisted. “Why would she keep that from you?”
“That's what I thought too. I don't understand, and now she just runs off, without a word. It's like she thinks she's the only one suffering, like I didn't lose my mother too!”
Charity exhaled. “So that's what happened. I'm so sorry.”
“It doesn't matter.” Anna sighed. “I'm tired. Just let me go back to bed.”
The four looked among themselves. They all wanted to say more, but none of them knew where to begin. Eventually, a consensus was reached. “Of course. Do you need help getting back?” Charity offered.
Anna shook her head and loped off without another word.
The next morning, Claire came to fetch her for breakfast, and Anna didn't fight. She didn't talk, but she allowed herself a few bites of food. When Charity insisted that she actually do her job for the day, Anna followed her suggestion. She did the same for lunch, for dinner, for cleaning her cell, and for sewing.
She did all of this with barely a word, but it was more than anyone had seen out of her in the past weeks, and even the matrons were as accommodating as they could be. The sewing she'd been working on for her mother and Elsa both sat unfinished on her window sill, framed by the bars. She couldn't bring herself to look at them, and due to this, couldn't even bring herself to look outside.
This struck her as oddly appropriate. Her life on the outside was over now. There was no one left there who cared for her. All she needed to do was focus on what was happening on the inside.
After a few days, she was starting to seem more like her old self – a sadder, quieter version of her to be sure, but one bearing a far closer resemblance than the woman who refused to leave her bed. She would engage in heated arguments with Claire, theological discussions with Charity, and once even had a race around the yard with Ruth. Without the friends Elsa had provided her, she'd have been truly lost.
She buried the thought. Elsa didn't care any more, and she certainly wasn't going to be grateful to her. Two weekends had come and gone without hide nor tail of Elsa, and Anna was convinced that she was gone for good. She would sometimes start to wonder what she could be doing with her life, but she never let these thoughts go too far.
This all changed when Matron Camilla handed her a letter one afternoon. It was just before count, when Matron Therese would take over the shift, and Anna had been reading a book that Margery had lent her.
She was astonished as she looked over the envelope. She hadn't received a single letter in all her years there. The return address was in California, but it claimed to be from Elsa. She was half tempted to throw it away, unread, but curiosity got the better of her. When she opened it, a pungent odor invaded her nostrils.
She stared at it, her throat going dry as she tried to force the letters on the page to stay in focus, only noticing that she was crying when a tear fell on the page. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and met the letter once again.
My dearest Anna, she rolled her eyes. She certainly hadn't felt too dear to her the way she'd been acting.
I can't apologize enough for running away on you. I know there's no excuse, and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you with every part of my being.
I couldn't handle everything that had happened. Possibly everything that's ever happened to me. I couldn't handle our mother's death, and in truth, I couldn't handle our love. So I ran.
I ended up in a bar, talking to this guy who seemed to understand what I was going through. He'd been to prison himself, and seemed to have come away from it changed for the better, not as broken as the experience seemed to have made you and I. He mentioned that he was meeting some people and invited me to join him. I know that this all sounds like superfluous information and not at all relevant to the millions of apologies I owe you, but I need you to understand what's finally opened my eyes.
I went with him. I met so many people, from all over the country. We did a lot of things. I'm not sure what they allow in letters to prisons, so I'll save you some of the details here, but I've learned so many things.
The more I try to put this all on paper, the less any of it makes sense. I don't know how to explain it to you without showing you. I promise, I'll be back. I just need a little more time here. I'll keep writing to you, I hope that you'll write back. I love you, Anna. I love you more than I've ever been willing to admit. I finally understand. You were right. There's nothing wrong with love, we aren't sinning, love is all that really matters in the world, and I just hope that I haven't lost yours.
All of my love,
Elsa.
The tears stained the page as her entire body shook. Anna didn't know what to make of this. She wasn't sure if she was ready to forgive Elsa, but she knew that she didn't have it in her heart to ignore her. She quickly borrowed some paper, an envelope, and a stamp from Charity, saying only that she'd heard form Elsa, and returned to her house.
Count prevented her from starting immediately, but she attempted to use the time to sort out her feelings and decide on what she was going to say.
She was no closer to an answer when she sat back down staring at the blank page with a ballpoint pen in her hand. There were no words that could possibly express the tidal wave of emotions that was beating against her.
Just before bed, she settled on a message that was simple and to the point.
Dear Elsa,
I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you, you left me to deal with our mother's death on my own, but I know that I'm not willing to have you out of my life. I love you too, and I always will. I don't understand what all you were saying, but if you really think that our love isn't a sin, then I'm so happy. That happiness is fighting against a dozen other feelings, but my mind keeps coming back to it. You finally understand. Please keep writing. I miss you.
Yours, Always,
Anna.
She didn't tell her friends about any of this. She only said that she'd heard from Elsa and that she was doing better. And she was – she seemed almost like her old self again. She'd eat and talk with her prayer group, she'd clean her cell, do her daily chores, and she even finished sewing the presents she'd started.
The letters continued, she received one once a week and immediately sent a reply the next day. Elsa had still hurt her, and she didn't understand why Elsa needed to be so far away from her, but if it was able to finally convince her that their love wasn't wrong, then she'd be okay with it. She could put up with anything if they could just have a life together when she was released. She'd let herself believe that things were really over, that Elsa was abandoning her, all because she'd disappeared for a few weeks. Looking back, Anna was convinced she'd been overreacting, especially now that things were starting to look so good again.
After weeks of letters back and forth, Elsa let her know that she'd be back in Colorado by the end of September. From then on, time seemed to drag. Prayer group didn't provide her any solace, chores seemed to take three times as long, every day was just a tally to be marked off. She needed to see Elsa again, she needed to find out what she hadn't been willing to say in the letters, what had been happening in her life, why she'd changed so much, and just to hold her again. She almost wished that she hadn't been told when it would happen; the two weeks of waiting were as difficult as the previous thirteen years.
But the day finally arrived. Matron Camilla fetched her while she was sewing. She grabbed the presents that she'd finished the previous month, and followed her to the visitation area. She gaped at the sight before her. Elsa truly had changed.
Her hair was loose and matted and her normally bright blue eyes seemed almost glazed over. She wore a t-shirt with a weird array of colors and jeans that were loose and open around her calves, revealing a pair of sandals. The clothes were loose on her, and she looked so unprofessional – so not Elsa. Anna was amazed that she'd been allowed to visit dressed like that. “Elsa?” she asked, approaching her hesitantly. Was this really even the same woman?
“Anna!” Elsa's face lit up when she saw her and she pulled her little sister into a passionate kiss. Anna was glad that Matron Camilla was the one escorting her, as any other matron would've promptly thrown Elsa out.
It was definitely the same woman. She'd know those lips anywhere, even if there was a strange taste in her mouth. This was definitely her wife, her sister, her everything. She melted into the kiss, and into Elsa's arms.
After a few moments, Camilla cleared her throat, and the two women took their seats, blushing slightly, Anna's eyes on the table, but Elsa's eyes only on her. “I missed you,” Elsa said.
Anna returned her gaze. Even unfocused, Elsa's eyes were still so beautiful. “I missed you too.”
Elsa's hand gripped Anna's, her gaze never falling. “I'm sorry I've been gone so long, I just had a lot of things to sort out after – after what happened.”
“I know. I just wish you would have told me. The last time I saw you, you said that you'd see me tomorrow, and that was three months ago. I didn't even hear from you for three weeks. Elsa, you hurt me.” Anna blinked, surprised at her own words. She'd been so happy to see her sister again that she had been sure she wouldn't bring that up. She thought she was over it.
Elsa faltered, her eyes finally leaving Anna's for a moment. “You're right. I'm sorry. I was being selfish. I made you go through it alone, just because I couldn't handle Mama's death. I'm sure you'll think less of me for some of the things I did to help figure out how to live my life again, to find myself, but if I didn't, I don't think I could've coped. With you stuck here, and the only other person in my life gone, it was all just too much for me. I wasn't strong enough.”
The rage that had been building up inside Anna evaporated. She wasn't sure that it excused Elsa's actions, but she didn't have it in her to hold it against her. She had made Anna go through it alone, but Anna's actions had made sure that Elsa had to go through it alone no matter what. “I'm sorry,” she replied, the two words broken up by sobs.
“What?” Elsa's eyes found hers again, seeming newly focused, a look of shock clear on her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault. I should have been stronger for you, that's my job. I messed up.”
“Can we just say we both messed up and move past it?” Anna offered. She had already forgiven Elsa months ago; this just gave her closure. “I want to know what all has happened. You seem so different.”
Elsa nodded. “I am. It's a whole new world out there, and a whole new Elsa to match. Like I said in my letters, I met some people, and they taught me a whole new philosophy of life.”
“Did you join a cult?”
“What?! No. It's a movement. It's all just about peace and love and understanding.”
“Yeah, sounds like a cult.”
Elsa's eyes narrowed. “A cult would have leaders. We're all equals, everyone is, that's a big part of what the movement is about.”
“What about that guy you met? The one who showed you all this. He wasn't some leader? Did he make you have sex with him?”
“He didn't make me!” Elsa spat.
Anna's jaw dropped as she realized the implication. “But you did –”
“I've done a lot of things.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the floor. “Turns out I really don't like men. Drugs are fun though.”
What had happened to her wife? She really was a different person now. “You slept with someone else?”
“It's just sex. It's just a way of letting your energies meld, of showing affection. I've tried it with a few people. It doesn't have to mean anything. Hell, you did the same. Besides, none of them were as good as you, you're the one I want to be with,” she added.
Anna wanted to throw up, to just leave the visiting room and not look back. How could Elsa do that to her? “You – Elsa...”
Elsa let out a long breath. She was starting to feel guilty; she hadn't expected their reunion to go quite like this. “I love you, Anna. I had to go through a lot to find myself, to figure out who I even was anymore. My whole life has been spent wearing one mask or another and I just needed a chance to explore. It really didn't mean anything, I'm sorry, I should have realized how you'd feel. You're not part of the movement yet, you still have those weird Victorian ideas.”
“I thought you said free love? Sure sounds like you loved them.” Anna was surprised by the vitriol in her voice. The last time she'd tried to hurt Elsa this badly she was doing the very thing for which she was now mad at Elsa.
“It's not the same kind of love. I love everyone as just people that are deserving of love, but I'm in love with you, Anna. And I finally understand that there's nothing wrong with that. I've even found other people that accept and understand it, and that can't wait to meet you.”
Anna had no idea how to respond to this. She wasn't sure that she could just forgive Elsa, but at the same time, this was all she'd ever wanted. They could finally have a life together, just being themselves, not having to lie, not having to hide, just being happy. “I don't know how to feel, Elsa. You really hurt me.”
“I can see that now. It wasn't my intention. I'm so sorry, Anna.”
She leaned back in her chair, her stare boring holes into the ceiling as she contemplated her feelings. “I need some time. I'm going to go, but if you really want this to work out, I need to see you tomorrow.”
“Of course. I'll see you then. Can I still hug you?”
Anna shook her head. “Tomorrow. I promise. I just need today.”
“Okay. Have a good day, Anna. I love you.”
“You too,” she rose and turned, blinking away tears, and Matron Camilla led her back to her house.
The next day, Elsa sat in her usual spot waiting for her. There was a flower in her hair, and she seemed to be wearing the same outfit as the day before. She stood and hesitantly approached her sister, searching her eyes.
Anna wrapped her arms around her. She still hadn't forgiven her, but they'd spent enough years not talking to each other that she wasn't willing to lose any more time with her. “I love you, Elsa.”
“I love you too.” They sat opposite each other, Elsa still looking quite frightened.
“I had some time to think about it. I don't think I'm okay with everything, but I'm not willing to let it get in the way of us. I don't want a future without you.”
The relief was visible on Elsa's face. “I'm glad. I don't want that either. I can't wait to show you our new home, let you meet everyone, let you try a few things yourself –”
“You want me to sleep with other people?!” She blushed when several people's heads turned.
“Not if you don't want to. I just want you to be able to explore yourself. We always had to fit into some box or other, and not having to do so has been so freeing. Try whatever you like, I just want you to know that you have the freedom to do so.”
“Oh.” Anna tried to wrap her head around this idea. She really had never had the opportunity to find out who she wanted to be. All she ever knew was that she wanted Elsa. She was her whole world. She'd seen a brief glimpse of freedom when they were first locked up, but the idea of just being able to try anything was a tantalizing one. “And you wouldn't be jealous?”
“I might be, but that's not a reason not to do something. I'd work through it. I just want you to do whatever you need to be happy.”
“Huh.” She decided that she was determined to do the same. “Here I was getting all into the last group you dragged me into, and now you come back with a whole new philosophy, and an even more unacceptable attitude than I had. What happened to the woman who convinced me to just keep my head down and conform?”
“She found a better way to live and she wants to share it with you.”
Anna swallowed. It was still a lot to take in. “What if I don't like it?”
Elsa's eyes widened, showing just how dilated her pupils were. “If you didn't – I don't know. You wouldn't have to put up with it, but I'm not just willing to abandon my sisters either.”
“Elsa, I'm your sister. You still abandoned me.”
She cleared her throat and opened her mouth, but was at a loss for words.
“I need to know. It's all so strange, I might be able to be okay with it, but I'm not sure. I need to know more. So far all I've heard is that it made you okay with our relationship – which is wonderful – and that it's about sex and drugs, and I'm far less comfortable with that part.”
“It's really important to me,” she offered, sounding more sullen than actually certain.
“So was your prayer group.”
“That was just a cover!” Her hands hit the table, not hard enough for the other visitors to hear, but enough to drive her point home. “This is real, Anna. It's the first time in my whole life that I've ever felt okay with who I am. These women and I made a home for ourselves, I can't lose it. I can't lose you either, so please don't make me choose.”
“Those women? What happened to that guy you keep talking about?” She'd told her so little in the letters. More than anything, Anna just wanted answers.
“Oh, wow, I'm sorry, I keep expecting you to know so much, when I haven't told you anything. When I was in San Francisco, I met some other women who were like us. Lesbians. It still feels weird to say. They understood what I'd gone through with you, they were even okay with the fact that you were my sister. There were a few people who were moving up to a new commune that was starting in Colorado, and it gave me an idea. We decided to form our own commune, not that far from here, where women are free to love who they love, and we can all build a life together, without the world judging us.”
Anna's eyes widened. That did all sound nice, but it sounded too nice to be true. “So you're the cult leader now.”
Elsa shrugged off the retort. “Everyone is equal there, no one is in charge. We share everything.”
“Even each other.”
She sighed. “Anna, please. Just give it a chance. I'll explain everything I can to you, and then when you finally see it... Just keep an open mind okay? Please.”
Anna supposed she could at least promise that, but it was still a pretty substantial request. Everything Elsa was describing seemed so alien to her. How could she ever be comfortable with it? “Fine, I'll keep an open mind, but if I can't handle it – and I don't mean if I just don't love it, if I genuinely can't handle it – then you'll leave with me.”
“Anna –”
“Please.”
She bit her lip, her brows furrowing. Even as scared as she was, Anna couldn't help but find it adorable. “Okay. If you really can't handle it, we'll leave.”
“Then it's a deal.”
Over the next 8 months, Elsa did everything she could to prepare Anna. She told her the history of the movement, explained about the Summer of Love, gave vague descriptions of some of the drugs she could expect there when the matron wasn't paying too close of attention, discussed their farming methods, their general beliefs, explained that she'd given up meat and that she had found a new respect for all living things, and taught Anna what it meant to be a hippie.
It still sounded utterly bizarre, but none of it exactly sounded bad. Anna's fear was shrinking every day; she wasn't convinced, but it was sounding like she may actually be able to handle this new life. She may even enjoy it.
The fear crawled back into her stomach as she waited outside the prison gates for Elsa to come pick her up. She was wearing a green A-line dress, staring at the empty road. She wasn't even sure what car she should be expecting. It felt like there were so many questions she hadn't bothered to ask and that Elsa hadn't thought to answer.
She could scarcely breathe as she waited, an unknown future laid out before her. Matron Camilla had given her a farewell hug, and she was already wishing that she'd asked the woman to wait with her.
She felt a hand on her waist as she was pulled into a warm embrace. “It's really nice to not have to worry that a matron will tell us to stop. It's nice to be able to just hold you again,” her sister's voice said. Elsa was there.
“It really really is.” She sniffled, rubbing her eyes on Elsa's t-shirt. “I can't believe I'm finally out.”
“I can't either. I don't want to ever let you go again.”
“So this is her,” a voice said off to their side. “She's kinda cute, in a stuffy old lady way.”
“She's like two years older than you,” another voice said.
“I'm not forty!”
Anna ended the hug, staring at the interlopers. “Elsa, who are these people?”
“They wanted to come. These are two of my sisters, Flora and Maria.”
One of them wore a dress colored similarly to Elsa's shirt, the other wore a flowy skirt with a loose fitting shirt. “Hi, Anna! We've heard so much about you.”
“Yeah, you too,” she lied.
“I hope she only told you the good things,” the older one insisted. Anna guessed that she was Maria. “Your sister is a pretty great woman. She helped me learn a lot about myself. I wouldn't be here without her – especially in Colorado of all places.”
So that was one of Elsa's dalliances. At least she wasn't the one who looked to be in her early twenties. Anna wasn't quite sure why, but that made her feel a little bit better. “Can we get going? I'd really like to see someplace new, I've been stuck here for fourteen years.”
Elsa gave her an abashed look. “Right, sorry. Didn't mean to delay you. Flora, you up for driving? I don't think I can take my hands or eyes off of this woman for long enough to do so myself.”
“No problem, man.”
They led her to a van with a colorful mural of two half-dressed women embracing in what looked like the Garden of Eden – or just a garden, she couldn't be sure. “This is your car?”
“It's a communal van,” Elsa explained. “I didn't need my old car, and it certainly couldn't carry that many people.”
“Right.” She continued to watch it skeptically.
“Things are different now. It's not all about having the newest toys.”
Anna followed Elsa into the back, and promptly collapsed into her arms in a small bed. Anna couldn't help but wonder how many other women had done just the same, but she needed this. She needed Elsa to hold her for as long as she could, she needed to know that they had each other again, that she was finally home.
“I've got you.”
Anna pulled her sister into a kiss, straddling her, hands roaming down her back. She needed to remember what her sister felt like, tasted like. She needed Elsa.
When they arrived, they all climbed out of the van to find a world unlike any Anna had ever seen. From what Elsa had told her, there were twenty women living there currently. She could see a line with clothes hanging on it, a garden full of all different kinds of food and a plant that she didn't recognize, another van, five cabins, and a colorful assortment of women going about their day. After a long moment, she averted her gaze. Some of them weren't even wearing clothes.
“Welcome home,” Elsa said.
Flora and Maria echoed the sentiment.
It was all so strange, but Anna was already starting to think that the term worked. She and Elsa didn't have to hide anymore. For the first time ever, she had a home.