40. 26 hours

Claudia wakes me up early in the morning with one of the babies in her arms. She is already busy with her responsibilities. I get up, get dressed as quickly as I can, grab my belongings, and walk up to the kitchen. Claudia’s host father is already waiting for me with an urgent look on his face. We have to go to catch my bus in Newark and then he has to rush to work. I am so grateful that he is willing to go out of his way to drop me off. Newark is at least 45 minutes away. 

I quickly say my goodbyes to Claudia and try my hardest to hold my tears in. I will miss her. Oh, I will miss her so much. She is sad too, wiping her eyes as I walk away from her. My dearest friend in America. I say bye to her host mother and the babies too and get in the car. There is lots of traffic and many honking cars everywhere but Claudia’s host father is calm. He seems unfazed by it all. He looks at his watch quickly and then decides to get into Dunkin Donuts drive through. 

“Are you hungry, Jarka? I will buy you breakfast.” He asks me but I shake my head. I can’t eat right now.

“How about coffee?” He clearly thinks I need something in my stomach so I nod in agreement. In a couple of minutes, I have a scolding hot paper cup filled with dark black coffee in my hands. It feels so nice and warm as I slowly sip it.

We are finally in Newark, at the bus station. It is cold but I have to wait for a few more minutes for the bus to arrive. Claudia’s host father waits with me and he makes sure that I get on the bus. He gives me a quick hug before he lets me go. I can see empathy, concern, and compassion on his face. I know I will never forget his kindness. 

“Thank you.” I say. “Thank you so much….for everything…” I want to continue but he stops me. 

“Jarka, it’s ok.” He looks at the bus and then at me. “Get in. It’s freezing.”

I obey him and as I am leaving his side, he adds “Good luck with everything! You’ve got this…..you got this.” He repeats as he waves his goodbyes.

The bus is full of people. We are heading to Washington DC first and it is starting to snow. Once in a while, I get a whiff of diesel fuel and my stomach turns. This reminds me of my childhood trips to my piano lessons every Saturday and how much the smell made me sick. My stomach growls. Oh no, I should have eaten something this morning. The snow flakes are floating outside and the closer we are getting to DC, the faster and harder it snows. Eventually, it looks like a full blown snow storm out there! I see people getting uncomfortable and fidgety in their seats as the bus keeps slowing down. It eventually stops somewhere outside of the city. And then we sit there. And sit there. In the middle of a highway. In the middle of the snow. 

The bus driver informs us that we will be waiting for the plows and trucks to treat the road first before we can continue on. Everyone is unhappy but I don’t really care. Besides the fact that I am hungry, I have nowhere to be. As of this moment, I am homeless. 

Three hours go by before the bus can move again. My body is achey, my stomach is beyond wanting food, and I am already exhausted. We are only leaving DC just now and we still have a very long way to go. After a couple of hours, we pull up at a bus station and the driver tells everyone to leave the bus and to take our luggage with us. We have had a few stops along the way already with many people getting off, so there are not many of us left now. Apparently we need to switch buses and we have a 30 minute break. I run to the restroom as fast as I can and then dig out my last calling card that I have been saving for emergencies. I was able to find a card that allows me to talk for 5 minutes with Slovakia instead of the usual 2 minutes. I find a pay phone and quickly punch my mother’s phone number in.

“Hi, mom!” I say. I attempt to sound cheerful.

“Hey honey, how are things going? I am so glad you are calling!” I can hear the joy of hearing my voice in her tone.

“Mom, please, don’t freak out. Promise?” 

“What’s happening? Where are you? I can hear noises around you!” I immediately sense her panic as she is trying to remain calm.

“Don’t worry, please! I don’t know where I am! Somewhere between Washington DC and Georgia. I am at a bus station, switching buses.” I try to explain quickly, as 5 minutes is still not that long after all.

“What? You are where?” She is not hiding her surprise and her fear for my safety any longer.

“They kicked me out, mom. I am going to Georgia to stay with Peter. I will be ok.” 

Yes, I will be ok, I am telling myself, in a poor attempt to convince myself that a different alternative is simply not acceptable.

“Ok, honey, please, be careful.” I hear some relief in her voice when I mention Peter but we really don’t have any more time to elaborate.

“Please, please, please, call me when you get there. I need to know you are ok.” She is pleading with me but as soon as I take a breath to respond, our call ends. We get disconnected and I slam the phone back in its place. Ugh, darn calling cards.

I pause and look around me. I need to eat. First, I see a vending machine so I get myself a candy bar and a bag of M&Ms. But I wish I could have something more substantial. I see a little window where they are selling food. I buy a sandwich. It doesn’t look very good, it has some questionable cheese on it and even more questionable ham. I take a few bites but I am scared to eat more. What if I get food poisoning on the bus? I toss the rest in the trash. Better hungry than sick. It’s almost time for me to get back on the bus, so I quickly buy a bottle of water too and hurry to my new bus.

There are not many people traveling now. They get on and get off the bus after short distances, while I remain glued to my seat the entire time. The hours drag on and it finally gets dark. We stop to switch buses a few more times but I don’t buy any more food. I only have a $20 bill left at this point. I can’t spend it. It’s pitch black dark out there and we keep going. There are only 2 other people on the bus but it’s nearly midnight and they get off at some little stop at who knows where. Another person gets on and sits down in the same row as me, across the aisle. He smells bad, his stink reaches me. It doesn’t mix well with my famished stomach. The man coughs and looks at me. He grins and I realize that there is only one rotten tooth in his mouth. I start to feel uneasy so I pretend I don’t see him. I lean my head against the window and pretend I am sleeping. After a few more minutes, I hear him chuckle. I open my eyes and he is still staring at me. I am so scared. I don’t want to be here. The night is dark and I am on this bus and there is this weird stinky guy eyeing me. I want to puke. I want to scream. I want it to go away. 

I look down and I remember I have a gold ring on my finger. It is my graduation ring that my mother gave me a few months ago. Another world ago. Back then, when I was safe. I panic again because what if the man sees it and wants to steal it from me? I slowly take it off my finger without looking at my hand and then I shove it into my jacket pocket. Please, God, please, guardian angels, please, please, please, let me get through this night in one piece. Amen. 

God and angels must have listened because after a couple more hours of anguish, the stinky one-toothed man exits the bus. I breathe a sigh of relief. Dawn is here, the sun is starting to come up again, and I can watch the new landscape and countryside through the window again. I haven’t slept in nearly 24 hours now and I am still on the bus. But the driver announces we are in Tennessee so I know we must be getting close. 

I am relieved to see that there is no snow anywhere on the ground and the sun is shining. Maybe it’s not so cold in the South. 

The driver finally yells “Georgiaaaaaa!” 

I don’t know where to get off. There are several stops before mine. At least I think there are. But we are in North Georgia and that’s where Peter, Silvia, and Tim live. It’s coming up any minute, I know it. 

The driver announces another Georgia town and this must be it. He is about to close the door but I jump up and yell, “Wait! I need to get off!” 

I grab my suitcase and nearly tumble down the stairs out of the bus. My joints are stiff from sitting down for so long and I need to stretch. 

Oh my gosh, I hope this is the right place. I look around and I can’t tell. Is this the place? Or did I get off at a random stop? I start walking towards the parking lot. I am hoping Peter would wait for me but I don’t see him. 

“Peter, where are you?” I whisper to myself. I am so exhausted that I am barely standing and I don’t know what to do. I want to collapse in a helpless heap on the ground. I want to give up. Here, America, here I am, take me.  Do with me as you see fit. I am out of ideas. I am out of strength. I am out of energy. I am running on fumes, keeping my eyes open by sheer will power.

Then, from the corner of my eye,  I see someone approach me. It’s a woman. I just saw her in the distance getting out of her shiny silver Mercedes.

After 26 hours on the bus, at the brink of collapse, it’s a miracle…. I hear my name.

“Jarka?” her singing chirpy voice sounds very close to me now, waking me up from my daze.

I look up at her. It’s Silvia. Thank God. Silvia is here.