by L. W. Clark
There will be a day when I’ll have a huge birthday party, with all my friends and family, in a house just like that naked man.
I smiled and quickly fell asleep. The next day I called home.
“Alyssa! Happy Birthday!” Mom said. “How come you didn’t call yesterday?”
“I was really busy and just couldn’t get to the phone.”
“How was your birthday? Did you celebrate? What did you do?”
“We had a small celebration in the house,” I lied. “It was really nice.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing great. I’m really happy here.”
I’m only going to tell them good stories. They still don’t understand this new life of mine and I’m not going to get into the details. It’s better for them and me. What’s the point of telling them my birthday came and went without notice? All they’d do is get worried and be sad for me. I never like it when someone pities me. I hate that. Whenever things aren’t going well for me or my family, I always pretend everything is fine. I never want to hear “Oh … poor girl, oh … poor family.”
I was happy when I got a friend of a friend’s phone number. Silvia lived in the city somewhere. I had never met her before, but it would be great to know someone from home. I called her and we made plans to meet. She lived here for a few years. Before I saw New York City, I thought most people would miss home and go back as soon as they could. I thought it was impressive that she stayed and built a new life for herself.
A few weeks later when Monday arrived, it was time to meet up with Silvia. It was exhilarating. She gave me detailed directions on how to get to where she lived in Brooklyn. I wrote everything down, but it all sounded so strange. I asked a lot of questions and she patiently explained how to travel to and in the city. I wanted to go so badly that I didn’t care if I got lost. I knew I was smart enough to figure it out eventually.
I let Anna know that I was going and that I’d be staying with Silvia overnight. The travel plan seemed like quite a process. I had to get to the Long Island Railroad station, take a train to Penn Station, take a downtown train to 14th street and then change to another subway to Brooklyn. I stared at the directions.
No doubt about it, all this switching is going to be tough.
I called Lora and Viktor to let them know I was going to be in Brooklyn, in case they wanted to meet up so I could make a payment on the loan. Viktor answered the phone. He sounded happy to hear me. He couldn’t make it that day, so we made plans to meet on my next day off. It was a good conversation. Since I wouldn’t be paying them back that day, at least I’d have some extra money in my pocket, just in case. I’d only have forty dollars left over after paying them.
“Anna, what’s the best way for me to get to the station for a train to Manhattan?” I asked.
I hope she offers to drive me there.
“Oh, it’s easy.”
So much for the ride.
“All you have to do is make a right on the road in front of the house, walk straight for about forty-five minutes and you’ll see the train station on the right side. You can’t miss it. Go inside the station, buy a ticket and then wait on the platform with the sign that says Trains to New York. If the station is closed you can buy a ticket on the train.”
Walking forty-five minutes in the cold doesn’t sound so easy but I don’t care.
“OK, thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
I left early to make up for the rather long walk. As I left the house, I felt so free and happy. It felt good to walk. I was on the road with my pocketbook and middle-heel shoes. I only had one pair of nice-looking shoes so I had no choice for the long walk.
I was the only person walking on the road. There wasn’t even a sidewalk, and the streets were narrow. It was a little scary walking, especially when a car passed. Some cars would pass so fast my fluffy skirt would blow up in the air. It felt a little awkward while I was on the road. I saw some people in the car just staring at me. It was like they never saw someone walking on the road.
These roads aren’t built for pedestrians. The people who live here must drive everywhere. I guess that’s one of the reasons Anna isn’t especially happy living out here. She mentioned a few times that she misses walking. I didn’t understand what she meant. Why wasn’t she able to walk? Now I understand.
I kept walking as fast as I could. I couldn’t wait to get off the boring road. It took me more than forty-five minutes to get to the station. The heels slowed me down a bit. I felt relieved when I finally saw the station. I was one step closer to the city.
The train station was closed so I just made my way to the platform. There were quite a few people there, starting their workweek. Soon I saw the train approaching. I got on and took a seat close to the exit door. Almost every seat was taken.
“Ticket please,” the conductor said.
“I need to buy a ticket,” I said.
He said the price. I didn’t understand so I just handed him twenty dollars.
“Here you go,” he said as he handed me the ticket and change.
“Thank you. Does this train stop at Penn station?” I asked.
“Yes, and… blah, blah, blah.”
In my short time in America I was impressed with how friendly and helpful everybody was. Almost anyone I asked would stop and help me. It made a big impression on me. It was a huge help to me as I got used to living here. But I still had a communication problem.
I understood the yes, but I had no clue what else he was talking about. I wasn’t shy to ask for help. I just didn’t understand the answers. Every time I’d ask a question, my eyes and ears would get big to absorb the answer, but it just wouldn’t happen. Maybe it was because people would speak fast or with an accent, but either way, I just wasn’t getting it. I was barely able to understand any of the announcements on the train, so whenever we stopped I’d look outside for the station sign. A well-dressed man sitting across from me must’ve seen me looking at all the station stops.
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling. “Penn Station is the last stop on the train. You can’t miss it. Just follow the crowds.”
Now that I understood.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling.
The train pulled into Penn Station and I followed the crowd. The second part of the journey was over. So far so good. Now I had to find the right subway. I followed the signs to the 1 train and bought a token and watched how people used it to enter the subway. Then I did the same thing and went through the turnstile, like I knew what I was doing. The subway was trickier than the train. There were so many people, and it was chaos.
I never saw so many different people in one place. There were Asians, Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Indians and who knows how many others. I felt like I was on another planet. It felt great, like I just joined an international community. They all knew how to move around and what to do.
I want to be like them one day, traveling around the city with ease. I need to ask a guy if this subway is going downtown, so I don’t get lost. I always like to ask guys for help. They’re friendlier. Girls aren’t so friendly to me. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s a girl thing.
I went up to a man. He looked like a local guy, reading a newspaper as he waited for the subway.
How can he read with all this noise?
“Hello, excuse me. Do you know this station?” I asked as I showed him my piece of paper with the station name on it.
“Yes, of course. That’s where I’m going,” he said with a pleasant smile. “Just wait here and follow me when the train arrives.”
“Thank you,” I said, flirting a little.
Wow. Either I’m lucky or maybe American men just like me. Everyone is so kind to me every time I ask for help. Maybe I’m attractive to them? Or maybe they’re just good people? I like the former.
The subway came and I followed the guy into the car. I tried not to lose him. There were already so many people on the
train, but people just kept pushing to get on. I pushed my way to a spot right next to him and firmly stayed there. No one could move me from his side even if they tried. He folded up his newspaper to read as the train left the station. I just kept an eye on him to make sure I didn’t lose him as the train made a few stops. Sometimes he’d look at me and smile.
“We get off at the next stop,” he said.
When the train stopped and the door opened, I moved aggressively to stay with him to get out. People were pushing each other to get off. Soon I was so far behind I couldn’t even see him. Finally, I pushed one guy really hard and got myself out of the train.
I feel like I just left a battlefield. I’m a hero. I won and I’m free. Part three of the journey is behind me.
Silvia asked me to call before getting on the L train to Brooklyn. I found a public phone, but I didn’t understand how to use it. It was different from the phones back home. I tried every which way, but nothing worked, and I became frustrated. I had no choice but to ask for help. A lady was sitting on a chair by the subway wall. She didn’t seem happy about getting up, but she helped me and returned to her spot.
“Hello Silvia, how are you?”
“Hey! I’m great. How was the train trip? Are you safe?”
“I am. It’s been an adventure, but I figured things out,” I said with a laugh.
“That’s good. Where are you now?”
Then … click.
“Hello? … Hello?”
We were disconnected. A voice came on the phone.
“Please deposit blah, blah … blah, blah, blah,” she said.
I didn’t understand what the hell she was saying. I hung up. I needed to redial, so I asked the same lady for help and she just rolled her eyes. I showed her the piece of paper with the phone number on it again. She just looked at it, dialed the number and handed the phone to me.
“Thank you so much,” I said.
She didn’t say a word. I watched as she walked back to her chair and moved it further away. I smiled.
“Hi Silvia. I’m afraid we’ll get disconnected again so I’m just letting you know that I’m going to get on the L train now.”
“OK, great. I’ll meet you at the subway station. I’ll be wearing a baseball hat so you can recognize me. The subway will take about forty minutes or so. See you soon,” she said.
“OK, see you soon,” I repeated.
See you soon? Another forty minutes of travel and she thinks that’s soon? It doesn’t seem that soon to me. And what the hell is a baseball hat? How will I know it’s her if I don’t know what a baseball hat is? Whatever. I just need to find the subway and start the ride. Why does it seem like every trip is around forty minutes?
I found the L train to Brooklyn. There were a lot fewer people on this platform. I asked a pretty black woman if this was the right train for the station I pointed to.
“Yes, baby girl, this is the right one,” she said with a smile.
Baby girl?
“Thank you,” I said, smiling.
The train came with only a few people on it. I sat down for the ride. When we reached the station, I followed the crowds to the exits. I looked for a girl in a hat, any kind. There were a lot of people with hats. Seemed like a popular thing. Maybe one day I’d wear one, but probably not. Most of the hats looked kind of boyish. Not my style at all.
I heard my name as Silvia called me. Somehow, she recognized me as I came down the stairs. But I guess I wasn’t that hard to find. When I looked around, I was the only white girl. Seeing Silvia standing at the end of the stairs, waving her arms at me, made me so happy and so proud that I made it.
Yes, I made it. Here I am, at the finish line. Of course, tomorrow I’d have to do the same trip in reverse, and I don’t have a clue how to do that. But for now, I’m going to enjoy being in Brooklyn with Sylvia.
Seeing her was like being with family. She was everything to me. She was my friend, my sister, my mother. We could speak in our native language without thinking, without being worried about grammar or finding the right words. I couldn’t wait to chat with her and share each other’s stories. We got along right the way, like we knew each other for years.
“I am so happy to meet you,” I said as I hugged her.
“Me too!” she said with a big smile. “I was so glad when I found out you were here. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. Let’s go have some pizza. They have really good pizza here. I hope you like it. There’s a place near my house.”
“I love pizza!”
I’m so excited. I’m outside, walking and going for a slice of pizza. This is so much fun. I want this day to go slowly.
We stayed at the pizzeria for a while. We each had a slice as we talked continuously, without breathing. Then, we repeated. Another slice of pizza, and we went back to chatting, and laughing at just about everything. We had discovered we had so many mutual friends and went to many of the same places back home.
She was renting a single room on the fifth floor in an apartment building. One room with a kitchen. The apartment was dark, with dim lighting and old bulky looking furniture. The room was full of furniture. There was her single bed by the window, and next to it was a small desk that looked like it was used as a vanity. On the opposite side was a convertible couch where I’d be sleeping. There was also a small dining table with four chairs, and a console with a small television on it. There wasn’t a lot of empty space in the room. Every wall was completely occupied.
This room is a mash up. It doesn’t seem possible to fit so much furniture in such a small space. It’s not my style. I never like clutter or too much stuff. But it works for her so it’s all good. I wonder who carried all this furniture up here?
“I had a chance to rent just this one room, so I don’t have to pay much money,” she said. “Renting a full apartment is expensive, and it’s not easy. The landlords want all these legal papers and a stable paycheck. I get paid in cash, so I’d have to find a guarantor, but that’s not easy either.”
She went on and on.
Who is a guarantor?
I just listened and nodded.
“Also, this isn’t such a great area of Brooklyn to live in. It’s not safe here,” she frowned.
“Why? What’s wrong with this area?” I asked. “It seems like a great city crowd. I saw some guys walking with their cassette players on, singing along with the music. Seems pretty cool.”
She smiled too but didn’t respond.
“Really,” I said. “Why is this a bad area?”
She just ignored me, like when a little kid asks a question and there’s no way they’ll understand the answer. She just changed the subject and went back to talking about the latest gossip from back home.
Time went quickly. It was almost bedtime when we felt like having some tea. We chatted more before finally getting into our beds around 3:00 a.m. Having fun makes me forget what I have to do, like sleep for a couple of hours before getting up early. She fell asleep as she was telling me some story about how she met some American guy. I had to be back at work by 8:00 a.m., so I set the alarm for 4:45. I had to leave by at least 5:15 to catch the 6:09 train to Long Island. I tried to sleep but it just wasn’t happening. My head was full of the stories that Silvia and I shared.
I needed to go to sleep, but then I started thinking about the travel I’d have to do in a few hours and that kept me awake. I was trying to visualize the whole journey. Subways, trains and walking. I started to drift off to sleep. My eyes were so heavy. I peeked out from one eye and saw it was 4:25 a.m. I felt happy that I had a few extra minutes to stay in bed. I turned the alarm off and just cuddled up in the bed. A few minutes can sometimes feel like an hour.
I opened my eyes and jumped out of bed.
Damn it. I fell asleep. This has happened to me before. I think I have a few minutes and then I fall asleep, when I should just get up. I never seem to learn. I need to be right on time for my job. This is the first time I left the house and I want t
o prove I can come back on time, even when I stayed overnight somewhere.
I looked at the clock. It was 5:13 a.m.
SIXTEEN
December 1996, Brooklyn
If I didn’t make the train on time, I’d have to wait a half hour for the next one. Not good. I’d screw up everyone’s schedule if I didn’t get back to the house by 8:00 a.m. I dressed and ran down the stairs, skipping a few steps along the way. I ran so fast with long strides that it seemed like my legs were punching up to my head. I was in the subway station waiting for the train when I looked at the time. It was 5:21.
I think I broke the land speed record getting from the apartment to the subway. But I was still going to be late. I couldn’t think of a way to get back on time. I couldn’t ask the train engineers to go faster. I couldn’t stop time. The subway came quickly. I was looking at the time every other minute, like that would change anything.
I kept showing other passengers my piece of paper, asking them if I was going in the right direction. I switched subways and I was almost at Penn Station. I remembered there were only two stops left when I looked at the time. It was 6:09. I was late for the train. I was hoping beyond hope that the trains were running late. I didn’t know how I would tell the family I’d be late if I missed the train.
I got off the subway and ran down the stairs so fast that my chest hurt. Running through the corridor was even harder now since I was going in a different direction than everyone else. I saw the sign for the 6:09 and ran down the steps to the track. It was still there.
My train is waiting for me? Are trains human? Or did the universe make it stop for me? It’s a miracle.
I approached the conductor leaning out the train window to ask if this magic train was the 6:09.
“This is the one,” he said. “We got into Penn Station late so we’re a little behind, but you’d better get on board since we’re leaving any minute.”
I ran through the open doors just as they were closing. When the conductor came, I showed him my station stop and he gave me a thumbs up and I bought another ticket. As the train started moving, I started to calm down, and my mind wandered.
