Sunshine State

Sunshine State

By

Grace McNabola

The car arrived bang on 6 a.m. as agreed. I looked out the window and saw it pull up at the kerb. It was black with tinted windows. I couldn't see the make or registration. I had one last look around my flat and turned out the light. 

My heart was thumping as I got into the lift. The only luggage I had was a shoulder bag and a small suitcase on wheels. It wasn't adequate for all my things but I didn't need much, I would be buying lots of new clothes when I got there. At any other time that would have been a real bonus, but for me, it was just a necessary part of the whole thing.

The rain was hammering down as I left the building. I didn’t have an umbrella - I doubted I would need one where I was going - so I was dripping wet when I got into the car. The driver put my luggage in the boot. There was already a passenger in the back seat. Petra smiled at me.

“Okay?” she said. “Not really,” I said, wiping my wet hands on the seat, and shaking my hair like a dog. “I feel like this is happening to someone else, it's like I am in a bad dream.”  The car was warm inside, I would soon dry off.

“It will be better when you get on the road, believe me. Last minute nerves are common, it's not a big deal, you will be fine, and you are stronger than you think!”

We sat in silence for a while. I looked out of my window and watched my old life pass by. My view was blurred by the lines of water cascading down, but it didn’t matter, the images were ingrained on my memory. My old school, the community centre where I played sports as a teenager, the recreation ground where I walked the dog. I knew I would never see them again. We were en- route to the airport. There was no other direct route otherwise I am sure we would have taken it.

I couldn’t resist the urge to look behind me. There was a grey car following. I noticed it before parked outside my flat. I was just wondering if that was significant when Petra handed me an envelope - “Inside is your new passport, driving licence, social security card, credit cards, immigration paperwork visa, birth certificate and phone. It's prepaid. There is only one number on it, mine. I have another folder for you with details of the training course, but I can give that to you later when we meet up. This is all you need for now.” 

I opened the envelope and took out the passport. Carly?  I said, “Yes, Carol” Petra said. “It's best if you keep a first name similar to your real name. Less chance of you forgetting. You’ll get used to it very quickly.”

I examined the other documents. They all looked authentic but how did I know? I wouldn't know for sure until I had to use them, and then it would be too late. I looked behind me again and the car was still there. Spooked now, I mentioned it to Petra; she looked out of the back window.

 “Hmm, we’ll circle the airport and double back. It’s probably nothing; we are on the main road to the airport so it’s going to be busy, even at this time of day.”

She continued “We have a long day ahead of us. The flight is 9 hours. Don't worry I will be with you all the time. We won't be sitting together on the plane, but you won’t notice – just try to get some sleep. When we arrive I will go and get the hire car and then I'll call you and tell you where to meet. We can go straight to the apartment.”

###

The flight was on time. I saw Petra disappear up to the front of the plane. I was at the back. I watched a movie and tried to read a paperback I had bought at the airport. My mind was racing. The stewardesses came round with breakfast and lunch but I couldn't eat anything. I had no appetite. The woman beside me was chatty. She was American and going home after an extended trip to the UK to visit family. I didn't want to talk to her but I reasoned that it would take my mind off things. I made up a pack of lies (I was going to have to get used to that so why not start here!) about distant cousins in New York, researching my family tree. My ancestors came over with the Mayflower and so on. She seemed to buy it and asked lots of questions, I only just managed to field them successfully. After a few hours, she nodded off. I noticed that she was reading a book I had always wanted to read, but never got around to it, “Where the Crawdads Sing.” It looked like she had nearly finished it. I craned my neck to look at the cover and she woke up. Our eyes met and she smiled.

Before I knew it the Captain said “Crew prepare for landing,” the crew were collecting rubbish, tray tables were being put up, seats upright, and all the usual stuff. The woman took the book and gave it to me. “Here you take it - I’ve read it before but I was re-reading it as I liked it so much.”

I said “Are you sure?” She nodded rapidly, “Of course, no problem.”

I took the book and put it in my handbag. Feeling pleased and grateful. Not all people were out to get you, most were nice if you gave them the chance.

###

I queued up at border control, my insides churning. Suddenly a chilling thought occurred to me. What if they refused me entry and sent me back? I knew about the procedures for entering the USA. Petra said to remain calm and polite, even if the official was curt and unfriendly. I had my immigrant visa ready, passport, a sponsor for employment, medical and vaccination records. When my turn came, I handed over all the paperwork with my passport. I hoped the official didn’t notice how much my hands were trembling. I didn’t want to make eye contact, but forced myself to appear normal. He asked me a couple of questions about my employment which I answered. Then the magic words: “Welcome to America ma’am, you may proceed – have a nice day.”

###

My phone pinged. Petra would meet me in the short-term parking garage. She was driving a red Toyota SUV. We drove downtown and then out on a coast road. There were palm trees everywhere and it was windy and very hot. Well, it was mid-August. I was also getting badly bitten; I needed to get some mosquito repellent. The aircon was good in the car and the radio was playing old rock and roll songs. I felt like I was starting my holiday not a new life.

We didn't talk much. Petra took the road due south from the airport. I caught her looking in the rear view mirror a few times, but I was trying not to get too paranoid, so I busied myself looking at the scenery – it was so different to London. Five-lane highways, palm tree lined roads, and horrible traffic. I think that is a worldwide phenomenon not just in the Sunshine State.

 Before I knew it we turned off the main road into a gated community. “Pelican Park.” There was a small guard post with a white barrier. Petra waved at the man as we approached and he lifted the barrier. The lawns on either side were manicured, not a grass blade out of place. Palm trees stood regimented at regular intervals along the road. There was no sign of any parked cars, but as I was learning swiftly, there would be underground parking because of the heat.

We stopped in front of a two-storey building with a wraparound balcony. The windows all had green shutters, which contrasted with the white-painted walls. There was a red bougainvillea climbing up the wall on the left and on the right a big green box hedge.

“Here is your key, you are on the 1st floor and there is a lift; you have a great view of the ocean.”

I took the key and looked down at it - number 13. Was that a bad omen? “I won't come up with you, you should settle in yourself; I will send you a message later, we can go downtown for something to eat.”

“Look,” she said, “I know what is going through your mind just now. I have been doing this job for over twenty years and we have never lost anyone yet. You did any incredibly brave thing and we won’t forget that. We are here for you all the way. The first year is the most important. If anything bad happens it's usually right at the start. After that they get tired, make mistakes and usually have other fish to fry. So, chin up.”

The front door of the apartment opened right into the living room. It was all open-plan. A kitchenette sat at one end, and the only bedroom at the other. Patio doors lead to a balcony, with a magnificent sea view.

The room was light and airy flooded with natural light, it had a seaside vibe. The walls were painted pale blue, the floor was washed white boards with patterned rugs, and the furniture was stylish rattan. There were ceiling fans. The pictures on the walls were seascapes, with birds and boats.

I went into the bedroom and put my case and bag on the bed. In keeping with the colour palate in the other rooms, the bedcover was blue and white and the wardrobe rattan. I unpacked my case and put my things into the wardrobe and my toiletries in the ensuite bathroom. It was small but adequate. Everything smelt clean. There was a lovely sea view out of the window and a ceiling fan. I threw open the window, there was mosquito netting on the inside. I made a note to get mosquito repellent ASAP.

The kitchenette had a small fridge. Someone had put in a welcome pack, consisting of bread, cheese, butter, milk and water; a bottle of white wine and a few cans of coke. I helped myself to a large glass of wine and took it out onto the balcony.

I stood and absorbed the scene. Wow, what a view. The beach was 200 metres away. The sun was blazing down on the turquoise blue water making it sparkle. The white sand glistened. Emerald green palm trees were swaying in the wind at the water’s edge. Although it was now 5:30 p.m. the temperature was still in the eighties, hot and windy. I cast my mind back to Hammersmith this morning; it was probably still bucketing down. The beach was deserted, but I could hear a dog barking, and it drew my eyes to the right. A man and a little boy were wrestling with a kite. A solitary brown pelican was hovering in the air above them. Rising and falling on the draughts of air. The boy was jumping up and down and shouting, and the dog was running around in circles barking excitedly. After a while, the wind dropped a bit, and the man brought the kite under control and handed it to the little boy. The dog meanwhile had got fed up with barking, and was rolling around in the sand.

For the first time that day, I was relaxed and at peace. It had been a long stressful journey, and I was weary, but I would probably sleep well. There was had an overwhelming feeling in my bones that this was going to be okay. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I could do this. Just integrate and appear normal. Who knows what secrets other people are hiding; they don’t tell you?

I polished off my wine and went back inside, to the bedroom. Putting my suitcase on the floor, I grabbed my handbag, and took out my phone, my wallet and the book. I put the book on my bedside table, intending to read a few chapters later if I could stay awake, when a bookmark fell out. I picked it up. There was an image on the front of a brown pelican. I smiled and turned it over. On the back were the words:-

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Carly. We will see you soon.”

 A wave of nausea came over me. I felt dizzy and sat down heavily on the bed. My heart was thumping so loud it drowned out the sound of the sea. I scrabbled around for my phone. No, no, this couldn’t be happening! It started to ring. It was Petra, “Carly, she said, “we have a big problem.”

The End

2,203 words                                                         ©gracemcnabola2024