I Left My Spacious Bedroom To Sleep In A Stranger’s Closet.

I called Sheila and inquired about the where and when. She told me that the job was in Texas, but I should book the plane ticket to Florida, and the agency would purchase my ticket from Florida to Houston, Texas. I would then take a taxi and go to a hotel for one night and leave for Texas the next day. Here was the thing I did not understand. Why book the ticket to Florida instead of Texas? Hmmm! She also stated that I would leave in five days, which would be Friday. Was she serious? Where was I going to get the money with such short notice? Oh, my God! My mind was searching the names of people who I could call upon on such an emergency to loan me the money. The good thing was that a return trip to Florida was would likely be much cheaper than Texas. 

I narrowed my list to three people. They were my aunt in New Jersey, my father, who lived in the city, and my best friend Pheona, who migrated to England three years ago and never came back home. I did not like to ask for favors like this, but I considered this an emergency. I called my auntie first, and without hesitation, she asked me for my specifics and purchased the ticket. America, here I come again! I wondered if they would quarantine me when I get to Miami? 

As the days went by, I had more and more questions to ask Sheila. She was unable to answer most of them, so she gave me the number to the agency. I called to let them know that I had purchased my ticket and asked them how many days would I be working? When would I get days off? How many days would I get off? Where would I stay when I get to Houston? Why do I have to stay over-night over in a hotel instead of connecting to Houston? And who will be paying for the hotel fee and the taxi fare?

Mr. Swanson informed me that the work schedule would be the employer’s decision. I would be living onsite at the nursing home facility. The agency will pay for the taxi and the hotel. However, they would deduct the airfare from Miami to Houston from my first paycheck. Their policy does not allow them to purchase tickets for travel outside the country. Fair enough.

The excitement was steaming. I was walking about my community with an attitude of sophistication because I was going away to America. Although this was not my first trip to America, the thrill always gets to me. I got my hair done and my nails manicured. I had not been to Houston before and did not know the weather there, so I asked Google – warm. My mother sat on my bed and watched me pack my suitcase with enough clothes for a month. I would buy clothes when I got there.

It was the last night before my scheduled departure; we all gathered in mom’s room to talk. I called my father to let him know that I was going to America for a while. This trip was going to be an adventure all by myself in an unfamiliar land. Mom cautioned me to be vigilant and respectful to others. That night, I slept in my mother’s bed.  

The flight would depart at 9:50 a.m., and I was ready by 5 a.m. because Mom insisted we (the family) leave with enough time to spare. Before we got into the car, Mom asked, “Do you have your passport?”

“Check,” I said and held it up for her to see.

“Do you have your pills?” 

“Yes, Mom.” I got motion sickness when I traveled, so I usually take a pill to curb the nauseous feeling inside. Then Mom handed me some money; I counted forty-five dollars. I gave her an appreciative hug while my siblings marched out of the house and into the car. We got to the airport in an hour and decided to check-in. 

“Good morning, passport and travel documents, please,” the check-in attendant requested.

I took out my passport and handed it to her.

She flipped through the pages and asked, “Where is your visa?” 

 to be continued. 

Ok, I said it!

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