standing in line at airport security
and the older woman in front of me has not flown for years and she is being told by the attendant to pull out her liquids and she is unprepared so now she is trying to unzip her bag but it is locked with a small dangling latch that she cannot open because her eyes are bad and so her daughter is now helping her and the whole line has backed up and the guards are telling Denny, the man checking IDs, to not let anyone else in and the attendant is obviously pissed and the rest of us in line are too but I am trying not to be because this woman’s underwear and socks are now flopping out onto the conveyor belt and Ziploc bags of large shampoo and conditioner are emerging from the depths and the attendant is shaking her head, this is too big ma’am, and the ma’am is so flustered and the line is getting longer despite Denny going slower and finally we have the confiscated liquids in their own bin and the suitcase zipped up and the shoes off and we are moving again, the woman off to be x-rayed but her feet are too close together, her hands not in the right place, the yellow feet, ma’am, they’re saying, match the yellow feet…
…and now it is my turn to walk through the x-ray and I put my feet exactly on the yellow feet because I know what I am doing but no the alarm has gone off and there is a bright red square over my computerized crotch and another security guard, a woman, is telling me that she will need to investigate my crotch and I nod because it was not a question, and her voice is steady and efficient as she tells me, I will place my hands over your buttocks, around your waistband, and then along your inner thigh and up into your crotch, her hands graze my pussy mid air and everyone behind me in line is now watching, we are not in a private room, I didn’t know to ask for one and I wonder now would I have wanted to be alone anyway? She asks, do you have any pain areas I should be aware of? and I shake my head even though that is not true, everything down there is susceptible to spontaneous pain and there is pain I cannot even feel anymore and there is pain I thought I did not have but now I realize I still do and I am working on reclaiming this pain but not for you, lady, not for you, but she is leaning in closer, asking in a private way, is there anything up there? and again I shake my head but I feel so dirty because she seems unconvinced and I want to confess a cock was, ma’am, a cock was, but how could she know that, how could the computer tell that, this red square of sin, but her hands are moving across my waist now and along my inner thigh and she is moving fast and her hands are rough and shoving themselves up between my labias and it hurts but I do not say anything, because I do not know if there is anything I am allowed to say except at the end, for some reason, after she swipes my hands for drugs and says, all done, and waves me on, for some reason, as I hobble away, I say, thank you…
…and later, as I sit in the plane and the man next to me turns his light towards me so I can have more light and the woman next to me asks if I want anything to drink and we all smile at the child in front of us, I want to tell them what happened, I want to ask, has this ever happened to you? I want to ask, have you ever felt like nothing, no body, is yours? I want to hold their hands and tell them everything that happened up until now is the story of our whole lives, but I do not say anything because Reader, let me tell you, even now, even as I tell this story, my mouth is zipped shut.
About Geneva Evie Toland: I am a writer, farmer, naturalist, and educator currently residing on the unceded territory of the Báxoje people (Ames, Iowa). My work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Canary Literary Magazine, West Trade Review, Farmer-ish Journal, among others. I am currently a student in Iowa State University's MFA program in Creative Writing and the Environment, as well as an apprentice in actualizing equity and justice with Fierce Allies.