Coming Home

We No Speak Americano

7 years ago

"Dad, when is your friend going to pick us up?" I ask before taking a big bite of American burger. I am actually craving for some Kotlety Schabowe, which is a breaded fried pork loin, but we can't find a Polish restaurant in the airport. We've actually explored the whole place while waiting for dad's friend. It's already 6:00 in the evening and his friend hasn't arrived yet. When exactly are we going to get out of this place?

What if this 'friend' forgot about us? What if he's not going to pick us up anymore? As if sensing my anxiousness, dad stands up from the table. "Stefan, I will try to call Wiktor. If anyone talks to you, answer them politely but do not give out anything confidential. I'll be right there." He points to a lone phone booth far behind me. I nod and continue eating my food. 

I begin to feel a little nervous after eating. Dad's just behind, redialing Wiktor's number, and that won't stop anyone from approaching my table and talking to me. The chances are slim but there's still a possibility that I might have to speak in English today. Just the thought of it scares me already. I'm not really a sociable person. 

Dad returns with a defeated look. He slumps down on the chair facing me and buries his face in his hands. "No one answered?" I ask him. He shakes his head. What are we going to do now? Surely dad knows more aside from his friend's name. "Do you know where he lives? We can just go grab a taxi," I suggest. 

"I'm sorry, Stefan. But...he didn't give me anything else. He only said that we wait for him here right after we arrive." He sighs loudly and looks at the other people helplessly. They can't help us; no one can. Everyone has their own world, their own problems to take care of.

With nothing else to do, I study dad's face. He looks really worried and desperate right now. After all the trouble we've gone through, this is what greets us at the end of the line? I fling my backpack over my shoulder and grab dad's suitcase with my two hands. He looks up and gives me a weird look. "And where do you think you're going?" he asks me. 

"Aren't you tired of waiting? We've waited for hours and hours and he didn't even answer any of your calls. How much money have you wasted today, dad?" I know some are staring at me, but that's ok because they can't understand what I'm saying. And if someone can, I'm sure they won't even bother to help us out. 

Instead of getting mad at me for being impatient, dad just looks at me with pleading eyes. He's mentally asking me to just wait a little more; to hold on. He's rarely gets mad at me, even if I humiliate him with my anger or act all childish. Actually, I've never seen him get mad at anyone before. He has a big, soft heart and I think that's what mom loved about him the most. 

"Fine. I'm sorry," I mumble. I put the bags down on the floor and return to my seat. No matter how much dad has been very kind to me, I've never been that 'spoiled'. I mean sure, sometimes I get mad at him and act all righteous, but in the end I always swallow my pride and apologize for what I've done.  

We spend another hour in the airport until finally, his friend Wiktor arrives to pick us up. I'm busy writing on the air sickness bag when dad stands up and waves over a guy standing on the telephone booth, obviously looking for someone in the food court. He's tall and looks lean, with sleek blonde hair and an arrogant expression on his face. As he comes closer to our table, I can see that he's really young, like, way younger than dad. And dad's only 45. 

"How old is he?" I ask dad. He told me on our way to the airport back in Poland that they were former classmates. And that Wiktor immigrated right after he graduated in college. "Why, he's the same age as me," dad replies, as if that's obvious and I'm too dumb. 

I look at his approaching friend, then back at dad again. "He looks to young for his age!" I whisper to him. Dad just laughs at my comment. Now the question is, is it good genes that Wiktor has, or a good doctor? Only Hollywood stars can look young and fresh despite old age. I'm not saying that 45 is already old, it's just that Wiktor looks more like in his 20s. And I'm pretty sure that girls drool over guys like him. 40 something but good looking.