Veronika didn’t know what to say, but the madwoman’s words made sense to her. Who knows; perhaps she was the woman who had been seen half-naked walking the streets of Ljubljana?

“I’m going to tell you a story,” said Zedka. “A powerful wizard, who wanted to destroy an entire kingdom, placed a magic potion in the well from which all the inhabitants drank. Whoever drank that water would go mad.

“The following morning, the whole population drank from the well and they all went mad, apart from the king and his family, who had a well set aside for them alone, which the magician had not managed to poison. The king was worried and tried to control the population by issuing a series of edicts governing security and public health. The policemen and the inspectors, however, had also drunk the poisoned water, and they thought the king’s decisions were absurd and resolved to take no notice of them.

“When the inhabitants of the kingdom heard these decrees, they became convinced that the king had gone mad and was now giving nonsensical orders. They marched on the castle and called for his abdication.

“In despair the king prepared to step down from the throne, but the queen stopped him, saying: ‘Let us go and drink from the communal well. Then we will be the same as them.’

“And that was what they did: The king and the queen drank the water of madness and immediately began talking nonsense. Their subjects repented at once; now that the king was displaying such wisdom, why not allow him to continue ruling the country?

“The country continued to live in peace, although its inhabitants behaved very differently from those of its neighbors. And the king was able to govern until the end of his days.”

Veronika laughed.

“You don’t seem crazy at all,” she said.

“But I am, although I’m undergoing treatment since my problem is that I lack a particular chemical. While I hope that the chemical gets rid of my chronic depression, I want to continue being crazy, living my life the way I dream it, and not the way other people want it to be. Do you know what exists out there, beyond the walls of Villete?”

“People who have all drunk from the same well.”

“Exactly,” said Zedka. “They think they’re normal, because they all do the same thing. Well, I’m going to pretend that I have drunk from the same well as them.”

“I already did that, and that’s precisely my problem. I’ve never been depressed, never felt great joy or sadness, at least none that lasted. I have the same problems as everyone else.”

For a while Zedka said nothing; then: “They told us you’re going to die.”

Veronika hesitated for a moment. Could she trust this woman? She needed to take the risk.

“Yes, within about five or six days. I keep wondering if there’s a way of dying sooner. If you, or someone else, could get me some more pills, I’m sure my heart wouldn’t survive this time. You must understand how awful it is to have to wait for death; you must help me.”

Before Zedka could reply, the nurse appeared with an injection.

“I can give you the injection myself,” she said, “or, depending on how you feel about it, I can ask the guards outside to help me.”

“Don’t waste your energy,” said Zedka to Veronika. “Save your strength, if you want to get what you asked me for.”

Veronika got up, went back to her bed, and allowed the nurse to do her work.

It was her first normal day in the mental hospital. She left the ward, had some breakfast in the large refectory where men and women were eating together. She noticed how different it was from the way these places were usually depicted in films—hysterical scenes, shouting, people making demented gestures—everything seemed wrapped in an aura of oppressive silence; it seemed that no one wanted to share their inner world with strangers.

After breakfast (which wasn’t bad at all; no one could blame Villete’s terrible reputation on the meals) they all went out to take the sun. In fact there wasn’t any sun—the temperature was below zero, and the garden was covered with snow.

“I’m not here to preserve my life, but to lose it,” said Veronika to one of the nurses.

“You must still go out and take the sun.”

“You’re the ones who are crazy; there isn’t any sun.”

“But there is light, and that helps to calm the patients. Unfortunately our winter lasts a long time; if it didn’t, we’d have a lot less work.”

It was useless arguing; she went out and walked a little, looking around her and surreptitiously seeking some way of escaping. The wall was high, as required by the builders of the old type of barracks, but the watchtowers for the sentries were empty The garden was surrounded by military-looking buildings, which now housed the male and female wards, the administrative offices, and the employees’ rooms. After a first, rapid inspection, she noticed that the only place that was really guarded was the main gate, where everyone who entered and left had their papers checked by two guards.

Everything seemed to be falling into place in her mind again. In order to exercise her memory, she began trying to remember small things, like the place where she used to leave the key to her room, the record she’d just bought, the last book she was asked for at the library.

“I’m Zedka.” said a woman, approaching.

The previous night Veronika hadn’t been able to see her face as fully; she had crouched down beside the bed all the time they were talking. Zedka must have been about thirty-five and seemed absolutely normal.

“I hope the injection didn’t bother you too much. After a while the body gets habituated, and the sedatives lose their effect.”

“I’m fine.”

“About our conversation last night, do you remember what you asked me?”

“Of course I do.”

Zedka took her by the arm, and they began to walk along together, among the many leafless trees in the courtyard. Beyond the walls you could see the mountains disappearing into the clouds.

“It’s cold, but a lovely morning all the same,” said Zedka. “Oddly enough I never used to suffer from depression on cold, gray, cloudy days like this. I felt as if nature was in harmony with me, that it reflected my soul. On the other hand, when the sun appeared, the children would come out to play in the streets, and everyone was happy that it was such a lovely day, and then I would feel terrible, as if that display of exuberance in which I could not participate was somehow unfair.”

Delicately Veronika detached herself from the woman. She didn’t like physical contact.

“You didn’t finish what you were saying. You were saying something about what I asked you last night.”

“There’s a group of people here, men and women who could have left, who could be back home, but who don’t want to leave. There are many reasons for this: Villete isn’t as bad as people say although it’s far from being a five-star hotel. Here inside, everyone can say what they like, do what they want, without being criticized. After all, they’re in a mental hospital. Then, when there are government inspections, these men and women behave like dangerous maniacs, because some are here at the state’s expense. The doctors know this, but there must be some order from the owners that allows the situation to continue, because there are more vacancies than there are patients.”

“Could they get hold of some pills for me?”

“Try to contact them; they call their group the Fraternity.” Zedka pointed to a woman with white hair, who was talking animatedly with some younger women.

“Her name is Mari, she belongs to the Fraternity. Ask her.”

Veronika started walking toward Mari, but Zedka stopped her. “No, not now, she’s having fun. She’s not going to stop something that gives her pleasure just to be nice to a complete stranger. If she should react badly, you’ll never have another chance to approach her. The ‘insane’ always believe in first impressions.”

Veronika laughed at the way Zedka said the word “insane,” but she was worried too, because everything here seemed so normal, so nice. After so many years of going straight from work to a bar, from that bar to the bed of some lover, from his bed to her room, from her room to her mother’s house, she was now experiencing something she had never dreamed of: a mental hospital, insanity, an insane asylum, where people were not ashamed to say that they were crazy, where no one stopped doing something they were enjoying just to be nice to others.

She began to doubt that Zedka was serious, or if it wasn’t just a way by which mental patients could pretend that the world they lived in was better than that of others. But what did it matter? She was experiencing something interesting, different, totally unexpected. Imagine a place where people pretend to be crazy in order to do exactly what they want.

At that precise moment Veronika’s heart turned over. She suddenly remembered what the doctor had said, and she felt frightened.

“I want to walk alone a little,” she said to Zedka. She was, after all, “crazy” too, and she no longer had to worry about pleasing anyone.

The woman moved off, and Veronika stood looking at the mountains beyond the walls of Villete. A faint desire to live seemed about to surface, but Veronika determinedly pushed it away.