---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Hands that Hurt” Down in the Dirt, v145 (the May 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book Random Thoughts the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 418 page May-August 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Negative Space (the 2017 poetry, flash fiction & art collection anthology)		get the 298 page poem, flash fiction & art collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Land of Opportunity

Debbie L. Miller

    Jose takes a seat in the back of the bus. It’s Thanksgiving and he’s working a 14-hour shift.
    Last week, his boss promoted him from busboy to salad chef. Now, he preps salads and chops vegetables and doesn’t have to clear the tables. Maybe soon he’ll get promoted to cook and when his English gets better, he can work as a waiter and earn more plus tips. Then, someday when he’s old, like 25, he will own his own restaurant, like those two brothers from Puebla who came to Brooklyn when they were teenagers and now own a successful coffee shop.
    For now, though, it doesn’t matter whether he works 10 or 14 hours a day because it’s the same pay whether he works 50 or 80 hours a week—a flat $325. He sends most of that to his parents in Mexico.
    It’s going to be a long day, so he tries to catch some sleep on the way to work. He’s about to close his eyes, when an American woman boards the bus. She has blonde hair, all the way down to the roots. Jose figures she’s about 40 but very beautiful for an older woman. In fact, she’s the most beautiful white woman he’s ever seen. She sits next to him.
    “Excuse me, do you know what time it is?”
    “Yes, Ma’am. It’s 7:30.”
    “Thank you.”
    Jose wants to look at her, but he’s timid, especially with American women, although his friends don’t believe him. They say a good-looking man like him should have a lot of girlfriends and shouldn’t be afraid of the mujeres. But, he can’t deny the truth—he’s a shy man.
    He wonders how far the woman will ride. He closes his eyes and inhales. She smells good. Not just good. Clean. She’s probably never worked in a restaurant, never come home smelling like grease, like he does after a 12-hour shift in an unventilated kitchen.
    She probably doesn’t work. He wonders a lot of things about her: what kind of food she likes, if she likes to dance, if she has a boyfriend or husband. He practices questions in his head—“Where are you from?”, “How long have you lived in Brooklyn?”, “What’s your favorite food?” Questions he could ask if he wasn’t scared; if he would just open his eyes and talk to her.
    Yesterday, his English teacher gave a homework assignment: talk with three Americans. But, what if he talks to somebody and they laugh at him? What if they don’t understand? But, he needs to improve his English. Better English, better job, better pay. Okay, I will do it. I will start a conversation with this woman.
    Jose opens his eyes to speak, but the woman is gone.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...