Page 108 of The Sign for Home

“I intend to go to court to seekemancipation. It means I will be free. I will marry my sweetheart, Shri. Remember Shri? That was your worst lie. You told me she was dead, causing me to live for years with the worst broken heart. Now Shri and I will live together. We will both be independent. I know you tell everyone you love me, and did what you thought was best, but it wasn’t best. It was hurtful. From now on you need to stop causing problems for us. If you leave us alone, I will not tell the elders at the Kingdom Hall or the police how you lied and abused me. You should just go to Ecuador like you planned. Go tell all the poor people about Jehovah God. He’s your God now, not mine. My God is bigger and better than your God. My God believes in me and knows I can succeed. Goodbye and…”

Arlo held up both hands with his middle fingers extended toward the camera. Voicing wasn’t necessary.

Hanne stopped filming and handed the phone back to Molly. Molly looked at me, uncertain, and then asked Arlo if he was sure he wanted to send it.

“Definitely.”

Molly stared at the little blue up arrow like it could launch a nuclear weapon. Then she hit Send and, as the video began to upload, a faint smile returned to her face.

52OUTLAWS

10 p.m.

We cannot see Manhattan from this part of Queens, but the night sky to the west has a glow that reminds us it’s there. Sitting in the hot car with the doors flung open, we stare at the New Bridge Gardens Nursing Home and Rehabilitation Center across the street, the mighty fortress where Shri still doesn’t know we are about to put her own escape plan into motion. Soon she will be awakened by her knight in shining armor—or, rather, a button-down shirt and torn khakis. His gallant steed: an aging guide dog, long in the teeth. His weapon: a white folding cane, a keen mind, and three hapless middle-aged vassals—a religious zealot, a Belgian madwoman, and a redheaded homo.

The plan:

1. Contact Adult Protective Services about the abuse we witnessed in the nursing home. (Done. We already left a message and sent an email.)

2. Extract Shri from the home unnoticed. This is more complicated. Shri had explained to Arlo that every night at ten forty-five, the 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. staff go to the front of the nursing facility to do “shift change,” where they share information with the graveyard shift about anything of importance that happened during the day. So for just thirty minutes, between ten forty-five and eleven fifteen, the back of the nursing home isunattended—unless, of course, one of the patients calls for help, but at that time of night, Shri assured Arlo, all the patients would be asleep. Thus, it’s the perfect time for Arlo to help Shri escape via an emergency exit out the back of the facility. Shri had even drawn Arlo a map, which he shows us proudly for the third or fourth time.

“Shri very brilliant,” Arlo reminds us.

The map, drawn with Arlo’s Magic Marker in his notebook, shows dots from Shri’s room, left down the hallway past three other rooms, and then to the emergency exit, which she’s marked with a star on it. On the other side of the door she has drawn trees and sunshine to indicate the outside: akafreedom. Shri also told Arlo there are railings on the wall he could use to get to her room. One thing she hadn’t considered was how we would get the emergency exit open from the outside.

3. This part Arlo and Hanne worked out. First, we’ll leave Snap waiting in the car with the windows open. (We don’t want to risk any dog drama like earlier in the evening.) Then Arlo and I will make our way across the adjoining empty lot to the back of the nursing home. When we are close to the emergency door, we’ll text Hanne and Molly. Then the two women will go to the front desk on the pretext that Hanne had lost her ID at the facility when she had visited earlier. While Hanne looks for her lost ID and schmoozes with the Russian nurse again, her “friend” Molly will ask to use the bathroom, which is down the hall in the direction of the emergency exit. Molly will just need to go an extra thirty feet to open the emergency door for me and Arlo. Then Molly will return to the front and she and Hanne will meet the rest of us at the gas station a block away where we parked the car.

Comfortably, we’ll have a full twenty minutes to get in, get out, and get to the car.

If everything goes perfectly.

If.

“Let’s go,” Arlo signs, unfolding his cane like a whip.

10:35 p.m.

Arlo takes my arm and we begin to walk across the empty lot, which is littered with rocks, potholes, and debris. With Arlo’s balance issues, it might as well be one of those Iron Man obstacle courses. I text Hanne and Molly and tell them it’s going to need to be a little bit longer before they head inside. The two-minute walk takes us nearly seven minutes, with Arlo tripping several times, once falling and cutting the heel of his hand on a piece of glass. He’s so focused he doesn’t notice the pain or the bleeding. When we are close enough to see the emergency door, I text Hanne for them to go in.

10:45 p.m.

We wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Something is wrong. According to the plan, Molly should have opened the door for us by now. But we are standing there outside in the darkness and I think I hear something inside the building that sounds like loud voices. I have a bad feeling and tell Arlo I think maybe we should head back to the street. He refuses.

10:47 p.m.

Just when I’m about to demand that Arlo and I get out of there, I hear footsteps and see Molly running toward the emergency door. (Running was not in the plan.) She pushes the door open and looks in a major panic.

“What happened?” I whisper.

“It’s a mess,” she whispers back, pulling Arlo and me inside. “Just go. Hurry. Get Shri. I need to go back and help Hanne.”

“What’s wrong?”

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