“You ready?” Betty asks, then gives me a big hug. She smells of coconuts and vanilla. “Put your arm over my shoulder and I’ll walk you to the desk. Sound good?”

“That works,” I say. Ajax is coming from electroshock therapy and would be in pain. The scene is in Ajax’s room. “Actually, bring me to the foot of the bed and stay close.”

“I’ll sit when you cry. I got you,” she says. I shut my eyes. I am Ajax. The conversion therapy has worn me down and electroshock therapy has broken me. I have no hope, no fight, no future. There’s only one option.

I put my arm around Betty, tighten my body, and let my head bob like it’s disconnected from my spine. We walk onstage and start the scene.

“You’re okay. It’s all over,” Betty says in a soothing voice as she walks me to the bed.

“My brain is scrambled,” I mumble. I take my arm off Betty and drop down on the bed. “I’ll never do that again.” I curl into a ball at the foot of the bed.

“I felt that same way my first time in the shock chair, but you’ll adjust. It helped me. It’ll help you, too, Wendy.”

“My name isn’t Wendy!” I yell. “My name is Ajax.”

Betty takes an audible breath. “Your name is Wendy; my name is Dennis. And you’re a girl, and I’m a boy. The quicker you accept those truths, the less shocks they’ll send through your body.”

The script says Ajax cries. I bury my face into my jeans and make weeping sounds. Betty continues, “You need to believe that our Lord is stronger than the demons inside of you. And, Wendy, I can feel him fixing me. I’m almost there.”

“Bullshit,” I say.

“He does not make mistakes.”

I actually hate that line because my mom used to say it. I pull myself out of the ball and sit up. “I’m not a mistake. I don’t need to be fixed.” I stand up and yell, “I am Ajax, and that is my truth.”

“You better quiet down, or they’ll take you right back to that shock chair. Is that what you want?” she asks.

I take short breaths to make my words feel winded. I know everyone is looking. I know this is my time. I stand up and begin my monologue. Once finished, I sit back down on the bed, acting dizzy and spent. Betty stands up and fluffs my pillow. “You need sleep. Lie down and I’ll bring you dinner later. We can pray together.”

I watch as Betty leaves, and say, “Hey, what will you do if they ever let you out of here?”

Betty smiles. “Find a wife and start a family.”