Silent Voices

Silent Voices

“They killed Arvin yesterday.” 

“I . . . I’m so sorry, Mari.”

“Don’t be sorry for me, be sorry for his family. They lost the best damn activist in the world.” 

“But, how? It was a peaceful protest. All about sustainability and ecological footprint, right? The police have no right to open fire if there’s no immediate threat.”

“That hasn’t stopped them in the past.”

“I suppose not.” 

“Who knows, maybe I’m next.”

“Don’t say that, Mari. I couldn’t stand to lose my best friend.”

“You would still have Rose and Danny. How are they by the way?”

“Screaming and fighting all the time, but fine.” 

“I’m glad I never had children.” 

“Really? A baby and a husband might do you some good.”

“Children are financial burdens.” 

“But, you’re stuck researching in your office all day. You go to these terrifying protests. And don’t even get me started on the week-long conferences! I barely even see you anymore.”

“If I’m not doing all those things, then who will? Nobody is going to give a damn about the environment if they’re not pushed.” 

“But there are thousands of other people out there like you! Saving the Earth is not your mission. Not entirely, anyway.” 

“It is my mission; it has been ever since the fifth grade! Remember when Barnabus Farting threw his Uncrustable wrapper on the playground? I was so angry at him, he couldn’t walk for a week.”

“Wasn’t he also the one who said girls weren’t as smart as boys?”

“He was always a pain in the ass.”

“I’d like to see where he is now.”

“Probably living it up in a Malibu mansion. Most minorities, on the other hand, have to fight tooth and nail for what we want.”

“I get it all the time at the office. Everyone acts like conducting operational audits and analyzing market trends is a piece of cake. No one really appreciates women, especially single mothers, in the workforce.” 

“And it’s the same damn thing with environmentalists and activists. Do you know how many people have called me “emotional” and “problematic?” It’s sickening, these stereotypes.” 

“I just try my best to survive each day. Ignore their words. Walk away.” 

“But that’s not addressing the real problem. By ‘sucking it up,’ we’re letting them think it’s ‘OK’ to do what they’re doing. Yet, to me, it feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m never going to get people to listen to me.”  

“What do you mean, Mari? People love you. You’re Lithuania’s number one activist.”

“But all those UN conferences and press meetings mean nothing if no one is listening. To most, my words go in through one ear and exit through the other. Don’t you see? My efforts are wasted because all anybody sees when they look at me is a middle-aged woman who should be at home cooking šaltibarščiai and kibinai.” 

“Oh, Mari, don’t be so negative. I’m sure nobody thinks of you like that. Your words are diamonds, any idiot can see that.” 

“And you are too positive, Annie. The world is so much more cruel than our male counterparts make it seem.” 

“I know. I’m not a baby.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just . . . the feeling that no one hears you—like you’re invisible. It’s a kick in the teeth. All I want is for people to wake and do something!” 

“Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day.” 

“Yes, but we need some progress. Everyone believes that someone else will save the planet, and that’s just not going to cut it.’” 

“You’re doing all you can do. I get how passionate you are, Mari, but if you did more, you’d burn out. Again.”

“I won't.”

“You will. You’re the biggest workaholic I know.” 

“If that’s what it takes to make a difference in this world, then so be it.” 

“Why don’t we go to the spa or something instead? I have next Friday off.” 

“I can’t, Ann. I have a meeting with Schnitzer. It’s extremely important. You know how invaluable worthwhile factories are.”

“Yeah, I read about it in your essay. It caused quite a controversy when I shared it with my co-workers.” 

“Speaking of co-workers, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm?”

“Could you talk to president Nausėda, maybe introduce the idea of Bill CW-19?”

“What?” 

“It shouldn’t be too har—”

“What’s Bill CW-19, first of all?” 

“Bill CW-19 highlights taking environmental action. If Nausėda signs it, plastics and crude oil will be restricted in large companies. It's a major step towards sustainability, Ann. You’ll do it, right?”

“I don’t think it’s possible.” 

“But, but you could be a hero!”

“I prefer sidekicks.” 

“Please, Annie.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m just a financial analyst, remember? There’s no way I can talk to administrators, let alone the president. And I can’t risk my position with two children to feed.” 

“I’ve never asked anything of you! Yet the one time I do, you refuse. What kind of friend—”

“Stop. Just stop. I’ve spent countless nights listening to you cry about everything from A to Z. You’ve asked a lot from me, and I’ve done it all, so don’t you dare insinuate that I’m not a good friend.” 

“Huh, I’m beginning to think that your refusal is more to do with cowardice than restriction.” 

“No, Mari. I’m in full support of what you do, I simply cannot risk my position.” 

“Please.” 

“I’m sorry. Some things, like you said, come with sacrifices. And for my children, I’d give up the world. Literally.”

“I . . . I suppose I understand that.”

“That’s good.” 

“But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Mari, you have to understand that. I didn’t mean to be so harsh earlier either.” 

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have said what I said too. I’m just a cranky old workaholic.”

“And I’m a stubborn mule.”

“Are we still friends?”

“What? Why’d you say that? Of course we are.”

“I’ve been a pain in the ass, a Barnabas Farthing type ass.”  

“A little bit.”

“A lot.”

“Well, what do you say about that spa trip, then?”

“You’re on.”