Mosaic

- Good afternoon, sir. I´m here to see patient Arthur Fleck.

- It's not visitation day.

The man on the other side of the glass seems so indifferent.

- I know and I'm really sorry to bother you, but…

- Tell that to next guy. My shift's over.

He gets up and walks out.

It's six o'clock. I come here as soon as I leave work. I wait for as long as I can afford to stay. Last Tuesday I got lucky and managed to sneak in along with the visitors coming to see the other inmates. I even made it into the hall. But it was useless. Still I've kept coming every day and today is just one more such day.

A young man walks in and takes the place of the previous guy.

- Good afternoon, miss. How can I help you?

His face is friendly. It's the first time I see him.

- Good afternoon. I'm here to see patient Arthur Fleck.

- I'm sorry, we don't receive guests today. Come back on Tuesday.

- Yes, I know…- I let my shoulders hang.

I look up again and search for the man's eyes. To my surprise, he doesn't look away.

- Sir…I've been coming here every day for five weeks and I will keep coming back, come rain, come thunder or even the end of the world and I will wait for how many hours it may take only to come back again the next day.

The man is quiet for a moment.

- What did you say was the name of the man you're looking for?

- Arthur…Arthur Fleck.

Something in his face changes. He looks down both sides of the corridor and then stares back at me. He guides one hand into the pocket of his shirt and takes something out of it. I can't make out what it is. He slides it towards me through the gap at the bottom of the glass window .

It's a paper bird folded by the same hands that made me a paper flower. I pick it up carefully and a tear rolls down my face as I recognize Arthur in it.

The man just looks at me.

- It's you…- he says then, as if he somehow recognized me - Wait here…don't go. Maybe I can help you.-

My heart beats so loud. I don't dare to move an inch. I hear footsteps nearing. Two pairs of feet. I turn around and see the same young man escorted by an older woman. She wears a white uniform and frowns as she sees me.

- Good afternoon…

- They say you're here to see Mr. Fleck. Is that right?

- Yes, Doctor. I…

- Consider this an absolute exception. Follow me.

I'm speechless. I don't even get to thank the young man and I just hurry and follow the woman down the end of the corridor where she stops and turns around to look at me. Her eyes are cold. She seems tired.

- Was it you who came to see him last Tuesday?

- Yes…

She remains thoughtful for a while.

- Look…this is outside any protocol. Patients like him are not allowed to have visitors. But like the young man said, maybe you can help me help him.

I'm not following very well but something tells me I might have a real chance here. The doctor sighs deeply and her shoulders slump slightly.

- I'll be honest with you, miss…?

- Dumond, Sophie Dumond.

- Miss Dumond, Arthur refuses to talk to any of us and I really need him to talk. I've run out of resources.

Something about that sounds very off, but I don't dare to make any questions.

- In a few weeks Arthur will have to stand trial. He will have to answer for six murders, three of them in the first degree.

- I understand…

- If it is found that Arthur was in his right mind when he committed those crimes, he will face life sentence in maximum security prison, and that's the best case scenario.

- The best case scenario?

- I don't know if you're aware of this, miss Dumond, but the death penalty is still in force in this state.

- What are you trying to tell me?

- I'm trying to tell you that if we can convince the court that Arthur suffered from severe mental illness when he committed those acts and that he was either under the effect, or the lack of certain prescribed substances, such a sentence could be avoided.

Her words are hard to process. I feel like I've been punched in the face.

- He will never be free…right?

- No. But it could save his life. At least, he could stay here where he gets the treatment he needs.

I swallow the tears that flood my eyes.

- How can I help Arthur?- I ask.

- I need him to speak. But like I said, he refuses to speak to me or to any other doctor. If he does not cooperate, I can't know what happened. If he does not tell me his side of the story, I can't make a proper psychiatric evaluation and whatever lawyer the state appoints him will not know how to defend him in front of the judge.

- Then you do care about Arthur, right? You too want to help him.

- Don't be mistaken, miss Dumond, Arthur is a murderer. But I believe that even murderers have the right to a fair trial.

The doctor sits down on a bench. She removes her glasses and rubs at her visibly tired eyes. I take a seat next to her.

- Arthur doesn't only refuse to talk. He also refuses to eat. He tried to kill himself on more than one occasion.

More than once? Arthur…

- Please… - I say to her - Let me talk to him.-

She looks at me. She doubts.

- Please, let me try…- I insist.

- Like I said, he doesn't talk to anyone.

- He will talk to me.

The woman stands up and puts her glasses back on.

- Alright. But I will not take unnecessary risks. A guard will escort you.

I follow the doctor down a narrow corridor on the second floor. A uniformed guard walks beside me. We stop in front of the last door on the right.

- We will be watching from outside. If he tries to hurt you, the guard will be ready to enter.

- That won't be necessary.- I assure her.

I step closer to the tiny window. I have to stand on my tiptoes to see inside the cell. There he is. My heart stops beating. His hair is died green and his face is painted just the way it was when I saw him on TV.

I look at the doctor who seems to read my thoughts.

- Like I said, I've run out of resources. I first gave him his notebook and it didn't work. Then he tried to commit suicide and after staying in the infirmary for several days, I granted him the paint and make up he asked for. Still then, I didn't manage to get a single word out of his mouth.

My eyes return to the inside of the room and to the clown that lays motionless in a corner. Both his hands are tied to the bed and even though he could be sitting on top of it, he seems to prefer the floor. His head leans against the wall and his eyes are lost on a random spot. He is thinner than before, if that's even possible. My poor Arthur…what have they done to you?

- Please, take off the handcuffs.

The guard shakes his head no.

- Please… at my own risk.

- No.- says the doctor - These are my conditions. I'm taking no risks. -

I don't insist. I just step aside so they can open the door for me.

- You have ten minutes.-

I step inside. The door closes behind me. I take my high heels off so the sounds of them doesn't disturb Arthur and I take four steps towards him until I'm standing right in front.

He's so different. The clown make up hides his skin and transforms his features. He seems another man, unlike the one I remember. He hasn't noticed my presence. Something in his unmoving face is unsettling, I'm scared of the absence in his eyes. I think back to the last time I saw him. He had a similar look. He was there and at the same time he wasn't present. He doesn't blink even once, I don't know if he's even breathing. He looks like a rag doll, a white and cold statue with eyes made of glass that see right through me, as if I wasn't standing there. I slowly crouch down until I'm sitting in front of him. Where have you gone, Arthur? In what distant world are you, so far away from me?

I hesitate for a split second before I draw my lips near to his forehead and kiss him on that little spot where the white paint ends and his green hairline begins.

I lean back just enough to see his face again, that face I once knew. As if he had woken from a dream, Arthur blinks a few times and then he sees me. His eyes light up and those eyes that seemed so distant a moment ago suddenly come to life. They see me. And I realize that they're still the same eyes, full of magic and scars. That spark they carried inside, although weak, still remains. The green looks watery and glassy because of the tears that start to flood his orbits and even though his smile is painted, I can see a real smile on his thin lips. Now I recognize him. It's him, without any doubt, the man who being so simple is unlike any other I know.

- Sophie!

- Arthur…

- You came! You haven't forgotten me…

- How could I? I've come here every day…

I show him the paper bird I put in my pocket. I see the joy that graces Arthur's face when he sees that his message got to me. He pulls at the handcuffs, making metal hit against metal.

- I would like to hug you…

And it is thus that I move even closer, closing the small distance between us and I hug him. Our bodies melt into each other in that hug that feels like coming home after a long day. Arthur rests his head on my shoulder and even though I can't see his face, I know he's smiling.

There are moments when you don't need to say more, for words live in the terrestrial world. But souls, being infinite, understand each other in a language of their own that sounds more like silence.

I know I only got ten minutes, and yet I spend almost half of those on this hug.

When I finally let go, my eyes fall on his hands. The skin around his wrists are hurt from the constant friction against the metal but there are also wounds there caused by himself.

Time slips away.

- Arthur…there's something I need to ask of you…

He doesn't say anything, he just looks at me. I cup his cheek with my right hand and Arthur leans into it, never looking away from my eyes.

- I ask you to not give up.

- Sophie, I…

- Shhh! - I cut him off before he can refuse or say something that I'm not ready to hear.

- Arthur, please don't hurt yourself.

I can't stop the tears that run from my eyes as I imagine him dead here, alone in this awful place.

- Sophie, no! Don't cry, please! Tell me what I have to do and I'll do it.

I dry my tears and take his hands in mine.

- Give them what they want, Arthur. Talk to them. Maybe they can help us. - I beg.

- I don't trust them…- says Arthur in a small voice, looking to the door.

Both the guard and Doctor Kane look at us through the small window.

- I'll come every week. I'll wait for hours if I have to. But they'll only let me see you if you speak.

I squeeze his hands.

- I won't let them hurt you, Arthur. I promise.

Arthur is thoughtful for a while.

- I will speak if you're by my side and only when you're by my side.

I smile in relief because I see a light down the end of the road, even if it's weak like the flame on a candle and ephemeral like a shooting star.

- Alright…

I have maybe two minutes left. I remember I'm carrying something in my bag. I open it and take out my diary, where I haven't written a single word after that day. Between its pages I find a lose paper, folded in two.

- Gigi made this for you.

Arthur tries to take the paper in his hands, forgetting once again that he's handcuffed. I open it for him and show him the drawing my daughter made him.

- I've been carrying it with me from the first day I came here. I promised her I'd give it to you.

A beautiful smiles appears on Arthur's lips as he sees the lonely blue balloon painted over the white background.

- Thank you! - he whispers, smiling also with his eyes.

I fold the paper again and hide it inside of his notebook. Suddenly, as swiftly as it came, his smile fades.

- Does she…know what I've done?- he asks, frightened.

- No, Arthur.

- Please, Sophie…don't let her know what I've become…

And then a lonely tear falls from his eye, drawing a path through the make up.

- I won't… - I promise as I wipe that tear away with my hand.

His glassy eyes look at me and inside them are a thousand words unsaid.

- Sophie, I know I'll never be free. But I'll do whatever they ask me to do if that means they'll let me see you even just for a second.

He smiles a sad smile. I see the resignation in his look. I do my best to contain my own tears. In the bottom of my heart I know that he's right. He will never be free. But how can I walk out that door without looking back? Can I abandon him to his fate, waiting for a sentence that he himself doesn't know hangs over his head? No. I can't do that. Just as I can't accept that such be the fate of this man whom I love.

I have one minute left.

And it is so that I do the only thing that seems to make any sense at the moment. I take his face in my hands, I lean forward, close my eyes and press my lips softly against his. I can feel it in the way he's completely still, the manner in which he holds his breath gives him away. Arthur has never kissed a woman before and the kiss I gave him is one he probably can't remember. But none of that matters, for this is a kiss unlike any other. It doesn't resemble any other I've ever given before and I will certainly never feel a kiss like this again. There are no words in our language or in any other that could capture the nature of this kiss.

I open my eyes and meet his. Life returns to Arthur's face and this inexplicable love I feel for him becomes the only certainty when everything else is uncertain.

- Don't give up on yourself, Arthur, and I won't give up on you.

I couldn't leave him behind even if I wanted to. How can you quit when there's even the tiniest bit of hope? Who doesn't want to see tomorrow? Something inside me tells me that there are still pages to be written in Arthur's life.

After all… what do you do with the broken pieces of something beautiful? Especially something made of glass.

You make something even more beautiful. You make a mosaic.