35. Accidental troublemaker

I say my goodbyes to Peter. I don’t know when I am going to see him again. It’s not like he can come pick me up in New Jersey any time he wants to. He actually has to study during the week and work on the weekends. He doesn’t even call me much anymore. Sigh. I have to focus on myself and my life right now, I decide.

Surprisingly, I get into a routine with the family and the kids and I am doing well. I do all of my household chores, I drive the kids around, even without getting lost very often. My English is improving too. I understand more and more and I even start speaking a little bit. The most used phrases in the house are “Don’t do that,” and “Stop it,” so at least I have learned this much so far.  

Julie signs me up for driving lessons because she thinks I am not a good driver. She may be right. She saw me accidentally run into the basketball hoop in the driveway. I just didn’t see it there when I was backing out of the garage in a rush. Oh well, I need to shake it off and move on.

I still get bored during the day when the kids are in school.….

It’s a random Monday and I decide to go through the newspaper that is sitting on the kitchen counter. I look through the ad section. 

“Volunteers needed. Psychiatric Unit. Two mornings. Twice a week.”  There is a phone number to call. I am immediately intrigued. That would be fun. I could volunteer! Psychiatry is a field I am very much interested in for many reasons. I immediately think of my father. He still doesn’t even know I am here. 

Ok. I must call. I practice what I am going to say beforehand and then I summon all the courage I have, and dial the number listed in the paper. Phew! It’s not an easy phone call due to my poor English but they tell me to come in two days, on Wednesday, at 10am. They give me their address too. I find a map and try to memorize the directions. Even though the hospital is 30 minutes away, it doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult to find it. 

On Wednesday morning, I am all anxious and contemplating if volunteering is still something I should do. But my curiosity wins over my fear. After I drop the kids off, I get in the car, repeating the directions to myself over and over. I am supposed to take an exit from the highway to another, smaller road. I take the exit and keep driving. Hm, I start to see houses and neighborhoods and soon I get disoriented. I get lost in the sea of residential streets. So many houses! I panic. Where am I?  I desperately search for any signs or clues to get back on track. I speed up, not noticing the 25 mph speed limit sign. I drive up a hill and as soon as I come to the top and start my way down, my stomach drops. Oh no! At the bottom of the hill is a police car. I can already see the officer stepping out and motioning me to stop. I can’t believe this, not again! I don’t have any desire to get to know the entire police department in this town. Ugh. I stop my car and roll my window down. I hand the officer my international driver’s license without saying a word. 

He is nice, he is smiling. “Where are you going, Miss?”

“The hospital,” I answer.

“Are you aware how fast you were going?” He asks me again.

I shake my head because I don’t know how fast I was going. All I know is that I am lost and I am late.

“40 miles per hour. The speed limit is 25 miles per hour in this neighborhood.”

I look up at him and say “I am so sorry, I am lost.”

“Ok, I will tell you how to get there but first let me give you this.” He scribbles something in his notepad, then tears off a piece of paper and hands it to me.“Unfortunately, I have to give you a ticket. You need to be careful how fast you are driving, ok?”

I nod again. 

Even after the policeman gives me the directions, it takes me a while to find the hospital and the psychiatric unit. Eventually, I manage to get there, even though I am half an hour late. It turns out that my volunteering position is at the hospital’s thrift shop where many of the mentally ill patients shop. I am still excited about it. You never know, perhaps later on they may move me up to a different, more involved job. And I am sure Julie will forgive me for the speeding ticket when she sees I am trying to do something useful with my time.

***********

Later that evening, I am on pins and needles, waiting for her to get home. I fold the ticket into a small square and shove it in my pocket. My fee to pay is $75 and I don’t know how to pay it without asking Julie for help. I am so nervous, I feel my heartbeat in my neck. 

Julie finally comes home and gives the kids each a hug with her squeaky voice. “Heeeeyyy honeeyyyyy, how are you?” She hugs little Dave, Kate, and Lucy, one by one. She is holding two sheets of paper while she is doing so. 

“Jarka, we need to talk, let’s go to the library,” she tells me as she is heading toward the library door. I am not feeling good about this but I have no choice but to follow her.

We sit down and she waves the papers in my face. 

“You called Slovakia? You didn’t tell me. You did not ask!” She throws the phone bill at me. I look down at it and see a list of phone calls with each call being itemized. Every single call! I see two calls I made to Slovakia during the weekend I spent alone in the house. Each of my two offending calls has a charge next to it and they add up to $80.

My throat is squeezing tight. There is a lump forming inside of it. 

“I am sorry, I was homesi….”

But Julie interrupts me, “Also, have you been getting on the computer a lot? Did you use the dial up?” 

I nearly choke. “Y..yes.”

“Did you know that every time you logged in, you clicked “ok” to agree to the extended internet service and every time you clicked it, it charged me $2.99?” She is nearly screaming now but I know she is still holding herself back.

“No, I didn’t know,” I nearly whisper. I am so scared, I can’t talk.

“Ok then. What I am going to do is this. I am taking all of these charges out of your pay. Which means you don’t get paid this week. Next week you will only get half of your pay. Sounds good?” She is waiting for my response but I can see she is about to get up and leave.

I remember my speeding ticket in my pocket. Oh no….oh no!! Ok. Now or never. Everything is going downhill already. Better to rip the bandaid off.

“Julie…” I look up at her before she leaves the room.

“What?” she turns around, her blond hair flying around her face.

I take the speeding ticket out of my pocket and hand it to her without a word. Then I brace for the incoming explosion. 

“What??? A speeding ticket?” her eyes are throwing daggers at me now. “Are you joking me now?” 

I don’t answer. 

“You know what, Jarka? I don’t know why you are doing all this. You are not hurting me, you are hurting yourself!” Julie is scaring me. The opposite side of her sweetness shows its colors to me at this moment. 

I take a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to….” I stop. I don’t know how to continue. My English is limited even more when dealing with an angry person. 

“Where were you going? When you got the ticket….where were you going?” Julie comes closer to me, her eyes demanding, digging deep into my soul.

“Uhm, psychiatric hospital…I got lost. I am so sorry,” I want to cry but I don’t. I am scared but the taste of survival instinct kicks in. “I was just going to volunteer, Julie. I wanted to do something during the day. The kids are in school…and..”

My desperate attempt to explain myself is met with laughter. 

“Psychiatric hospital?? Are you serious right now? You know what! You are forbidden from going there ever again. You have no business going to mental hospitals! What if you get hepatitis? Or who knows……what! You’d need to get shots before you go. That is so irresponsible of you. I can’t believe this. You are here to take care of my children. Understood?”

I look down, ashamed. I nod. I will be on my best behavior from now on. 

“Why did you need to go to the psychiatric hospital anyway?” she won’t leave me alone.

“Uhm…..” I don’t know what to say. What would be a good thing to say anyway? 

“I want to volunteer. My father has a mental illness.” I say without thinking about it. Oh no, I can’t be telling people about this! Not about my past. Why did I just say that? Ugh, I am so mad at myself. Maybe she didn’t hear me. I hope so. Please.

Julie is quiet for a few moments but then she continues, still angry.

“You trust me in this, I know better! I have more experience than you. You are not allowed to go there again, no matter what the reason is!”

I don’t dare to look up at her again but I sense another presence in the room. I see that Dave got home and wants to find out what all the commotion is about. 

Julie explains and lists all the offences I have committed. He is nodding, looking at me with his sympathetic blue eyes. “Julie, please, she didn’t know,” he says gently to her. 

“Oh, pffft, yes she did! No pay for two weeks! Because now we have to pay your speeding ticket too.  Got it?” She throws the phone and internet bills on the floor and storms out.

Dave picks the papers off the floor, looks up at me and mouths to me “I am so sorry.” 

A few minutes later, I leave the house and go vent to Claudia. I tell her everything because she usually makes things better. She always has the right words to say.  I will be on my best behavior from now on. I will do my best to stay out of trouble, even accidental trouble. I am a reasonable person. I like to follow the rules after all.