The handcuffs were tight and as I moved they felt like they would cut through my skin. I wiggled to get comfortable. I knew I should now have gone down to the immigration office. It felt like a set up but the thought of getting a USA passport was too good to pass up. I had gotten a fake birth certificate and applied for a passport. They sent a letter for me to come down to the office and pick it up. When I got there something did not feel right. I went to the front desk and gave my name. The receptionist told me to sit down. The lobby was empty. I should have realized that something was happening. She got on the phone and within minutes I was in handcuffs riding in a van. We drove for approximately 25 minutes. I was watching my watch as I wriggle in the handcuffs.
The guards took me out the van and walked me in a tall building with dark corridors. As I walked down the corridors I realized I was in a jail. I could see the other men in the cells. The smell was horrendous. We came to a cell door and stopped. The doors opened…
Then I woke up. My clothes wet from sweating it felt so real. I looked over at the clock. It was 3.00 am in the morning. I went to the kitchen for glass of water. I went back to bed and tried to go back to sleep. I could not.
For the past 2 months I have been having different “immigration nightmares” with the same theme; me being caught as an illegal alien. It started when I got a phone call from a distant cousin looking for money to post bail for immigration fraud. His story affected me for days. I started to internalize his situation and it came out in my dreams. I was losing sleep.
There was no one I could talk to about my nightmare. Sue and I had a strained relationship since the “incident”. Also she seemed to be having her own problems in her long distance relationship with Ritchie. I could not talk to Rosa as it would seem that I am trying to pressure her to marry me.
What amazed me about these dreams were that they continued. I remember as a child always wanting to continue a really good dream when I go back to sleep. It never happened. These dreams seem to continue when I go to bed at night. I wanted to get them out of my head.
It all started when my mother came to Miami for my graduation. She contacted her cousin Sandra, who came over to the apartment with her son, Ralston. They were both here illegally. I remember visiting them in the country, in Jamaica, when I was younger. How we are related is complicated. Sandra is my Grand Aunt’s (my mothers Aunt) daughter. She is my mother’s cousin.
Ralston and I hit it off. We both were into cars and dancehall music. When they were leaving my cousins said we must stay in touch. We probably were never going to see each other again until another family member visitor. In the USA people are busy and constantly on the move.
My mother gave us the speech that we are family and that we live in Miami so we need to stay in touch. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to stay in touch even when my mother left. I took it with a grain of salt.
“These are my cousins so they are also your cousins. They are family” I remember my mother saying that night.
Two months later my “cousins” called looking to borrow money to bail Ralston from jail. She had him on a 3 way with me. I sent her $50. He was released with restrictions but there were now 2 cases pending against him. One was criminal for fraud and one was a deportation hearing. Ralston had a good job and was never in trouble before. Because of this the judge gave him bail; however, he had a trail date. He contemplated going to another state but he had too many ties. They had a house and his mother was not working.
The trial did not go well. The criminal fraud charges were dropped but he lost the deportation case. They did not let him go home as in many deportation hearing. He was taken to Krome, an immigration detention center. Within a month he was deported. I felt really bad for him and wondered if this would be my fate.
I found someone who I could talk to. Her name was Tami and we worked together at BJ's wholesaleFlorida Atlantic University. She had a great personality and was fun to be around. She was an international student but had permission to work off campus. club. She was Jamaican and attended Campion like I did. I vaguely remember her as she was 3 forms below me. She started working at the store a year ago and we developed a casual friendship. She worked part-time as she attended
She saw that something was wrong with me and inquired.
“What wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I replied.
“You are not your happy jovial self”, she pressed.
I took a chance and started talking to her. I was not specific but told her it was woman problems. I told her that women don’t seem to know what they want. She listened intently and nodded in agreement with me. I was vague but told her enough so she knew I was having issues with my girlfriend. She gave me no advice that day. I was a little disappointed but the next few weeks we continued to talk. She was studying psychology and soon began to give me little “snippets” of advice. It was great.
I talked to her about my mother and how she wanted to marry me off. Again I was vague but it helped me to relieve some of the pressure I had been feeling. The 3 weeks my mother stayed she constantly reminded me on how I blew it with Rosa. She and Rosa were like mother and daughter. I was hoping it would soften Rosa to start mentioning marriage again. It did not.
Tami was great as friend. Sometime you don’t tell your problems but listen to someone else. That is what she did.
One evening she needed a ride home because her Aunt was late. I took her home and we talked.
“Who is that?” she asked
