Chapter #9

[Scrap #1] It was pitch dark around me when I woke up. So quiet. My nostrils were dried out from the air around me. Everything seemed so serene and peaceful. I recgonised the smell almost instantly. I was back in the desert with the now more familiar feeling of jet lag. I allowed myself to enjoy this careless moment for a bit longer. Soon the familiar sense of panic would begin to creep in. The familiar what ifs. What if Michael doesn't hire me back? What if I run out of money? What if the last year was just a pure luck? Fully alert now I woke Akira up and told him we had to get something to eat. The excitement of landing in Poland was hard to contain. My luggage got lost so I had to fill out some forms before I could continue my journey into the arrival area. It had been almost a year since my parents dropped me off just on the floor above. And here we were again! We hugged and when Mom stopped crying we walked to the parking lot. All the cars seemed like a miniature version of what I got used to seeing in America!

[Scrap #2] Two months later we were back at the same spot as a year earlier. This time the atmosphere was much more relaxed. It helped that I was going to fly back with Akira. He came over to visit me in the middle of the summer. We traveled a bit and I got to introduce him to my favourite places. Before the trip he died his hair to blond. Leszno had not seen a lot of Japanese in its history, especially blond ones, so he got quite a bit of attention - something he seemed to enjoy a lot. He brought some gifts and everyone in my family loved him. Aware now of some cultural differences, I told Grandma Maria not to hug him too fondly and maybe eleminate kissing him in cheeks from the greeting (advice she completely ignored). Granda Bronek kept speaking Polish to Akira but much slower as if that somehow made him easier to understand. "I'm glad you have a companion this time", Mom said when we were saying our good-byes. Without the stress on not knowing what was ahead I had enjoyed the carelessness of the summer and I was actually really sad to be leaving.

[Scrap #3] We arrived just before the new semester started so I didn't really get a chance to get homesick before being sucked into my California life. I needed to get clarity about my job situation so I phoned Michael straight after lunch time. "Jackie boy!", he seemed to be in a relaxed mood. I imagined him sitting at the coolness of the restaurant's bar watching a game of poker or golf. We spoke a bit about holidays. There wasn't really any concrete reason why I wouldn't be hired back. I guess insecurity was part of the job. In either case, I was relieved when Michael asked me to show up in a couple of weeks. I now had the desert finally to my own. The classes were just starting so I had some free time to just walk around and enjoy simple things like the sound of sprinkles watering the grass or just hanging out in the college library. While I enjoyed the time in Poland I realised there was a part of me that equally missed the desert. Yes, there were still a lot of unknowns ahead but for the moment I decided to enjoy what was around me.

[Scrap #4] I didn't live with Akira anymore. Our lease at St Gorgonio's place expired in June. Rather than extending it (and paying for my empty room in the summer) I spoke to Byran who agree to store my stuff and let me officially move back to his place when I returned from Poland. Akira quickly found a room with one of his Japanese friends. It was a good deal - Pawel and Cielina, the Polish roomates, had moved out a while ago so for fifty dollars more I could take over their room. It had a much bigger bed (I had never upraded myself from the foam mattress), its own bathroom and a direct exit to the backyard with a now fully functioning swimming pool. I was looking forward to returning back to my duties of expeditor and finally starting to make some money. After paying for the next semester my bank account was almost dried out. The tourism in the desert was supposed to bounce back to the pre-9/11 levels but I now knew it would still take some time for people to start arriving in the restaurant. I knew I needed to buckle up to survive the coming days.

[Scrap #5] I wouldn't say that people working at Michael's were my family but with so much time spent in the restaurant they involuntary had become a part of my life. It certainly did feel feel like a reunion when we all showed up a day before the opening to clean the place up. It was the most relaxed we had all been, Michael kept telling jokes and no one cared to wear a shirt or even shave. Of course starting tomorrow it was going back to the normal - Michael yelling about garlic bread being cold, Gabriel complaining that the trays had not been cleaned properly, Jose inventing the most elaborative Mexican expletives directed at me. And of course Ron, I think I miss him the most, joking around and calling me Polska Duma (the Polish Pride). Everyone was back for the new season except Mark, the floor manager, something that no one seemed to be sad about. I was going to retain my position of expeditor although I'd be getting some assistance from one of the bus boys if things got busy. I was happy to hear when JC, Michael's brother, complemented me on my performance in the last season.

[Scrap #6] September would probably be not very eventful if it wasn't for a visit by Tomek. I borrowed Byran's Toyota pickup and drove to the airport. There was not much space in the car so we kept the suitcases in the back. We first drove to Santa Monica to get a burger and see the ocean. We would be sharing the same room for a month so there was some potential for tension. I was also worried that he could find the place a bit boring. Luckily, Tomek got along with Byran so when I was in school he would be helping him cutting trees in the backyard, swim in the pool or occasionally enjoy the wonders of all-you-can-eat buffet. As for any quarels we might have had, we quickly erased them with humour. We also rented a car to visit places around. The highlight was our journey to San Francisco. We drove all night, spent a day there and drove back - almost 1,000 miles in less than 30 hours. I was so excited by the sight of the city from the Bay Bridge that I almost crashed into a car driving next to us. It was a great trip.

[Scrap #7] The flexibility in setting up your own schedule was one of the main differences between a college or a university in Poland and America. I loved the system - it gave me the feeling of being in charge and for many students ability to fit school into their working lives. The slight downside was that every class consisted of different students. Most people were friendly so I would chat with some familiar faces but there was never much time to develop deeper connections. Now, with Akira not being in my life all the time it was time for me to make some new friends. Being an international student automatically gave you some sort of identity (a 'legal alien' was the official term). College of the Desert was not the most popular destination for foreign students but that turned out to be its advantage. The International Office, with Carolyn at the front desk always smiling and ready to listen to your problems, really seemed to care about you. I joined an International Student Club and it was nice to see that it brought together not only students from abroad but also locals who wanted to learn something about other countries.

[Scrap #8] Although many teachers insisted on calling me by my Polish name on most occasions I would use 'Jack' when introducing myself. It was cool - it sounded natural, American and much less demanding for others to pronounce it correctly. My vocabulary had been expending quite quickly. All of the new concepts, whether in psychology, economics or sociology would come to me in English so the language of my thinking was also slowly starting to change. I would still find it intimidating to speak up on the spot and raise my hand, speak up and make my point during a debate at Dr. Rios' class. It was frustrating but I found it extremely thrilling to be able to write something in English and still score the top grade. I also had become a local. I caught myself using the word 'we' whenever I spoke about California. The desert had a communal spirit and I did feel a part of it. But I also never minded being a foreigner. I liked my accent and by the time the next year started I retired Jack and switched back to my old name (softening the 'c' for easier pronunciation and its new American feel).

[Scrap #9] One Thursday evening I got into a bit of a confrontation with Kurt, the sous chef. Kurt had a specific sense of humour which I didn't always understand but overall he was nice to me (by the restaurant standards) - he would make sure that I was properly fed not just by pasta but also by such specials like pork chops with delicious carmelised apples. The topic of the discussion was drinking and whether Polish people can drink more than blacks. When I showed up the next day I found a glass filled with what looked like vodka on the counter. "Are you ready?" Kurt asked. Of course, I had to take a challenge. I don't remember much about that evening apart from the constant supply of refills showing up at my station. When I woke next morning in my bed with a pounding headache I knew that I was in trouble. I met Byran in the kitchen who described to me that I was brought in by two people from my restaurant and he then led me into my bedroom. My voicemail had a message from Akira telling me not to worry. It was time to call the restaurant.

[Scrap #10] I prayed for the call to be transferred straight into the kitchen. Unfortunately, it was JC, Michael's brother and now also the floor manager, who picked it up. "So, what happened last night?" he asked and I immediately just started apologising for my "immature behavior". I just kept repeating how sorry I was. He finally got me to Kurt. It didn't look good. Apparently, I was so drunk that at some point I sat down at a table full of customers, looked at them and asked "What's up?". Sal, one of the busboys, somehow made up an excuse that I was a diabetic. I couldn't really move so JC decided that I had to go home. My only luck was that Michael was not in the restaurant that evening and that JC generally liked me. When I showed in the evening "buracho" was probably the nicest thing. That was deserved but the worst was still ahead - I had to speak to JC in person and beg him to keep my job. I apologised again. "I don't want to ever see you with holding a drink". "Does it mean I still have the job?". "Yes. Now go fuck yourself".