CHANGE OF LIFE - Chapter 23

 

I was excited when I put up the phone.  I had been afraid Willard might be mad at me, or maybe had adjusted to me being gone and wouldn’t want me back in his life, or maybe even would be making plans to divorce me.  None of those fears were true. He was happy to hear from me and happy that I was coming back to him!

First, I had to make a reservation for the train. I tried calling AMTRAK, but either the office was closed or they weren’t answering the phone. I will go to the library and use the computer the first thing in the morning.

Back in the dormitory I undressed to get ready for bed. Willard won’t think I’m a fat sow now. I trimmed down some more since being in Chicago. Tomorrow I’ll look for a few pieces of nice lingerie to take with me. I want Willard to be glad to have me back. I need for him to desire me. That would put the icing on the cake of my feelings of self-worth.

The next morning I sat beside a young woman from Baltimore. She was a student at Towson University.

I said, “Baltimore is my hometown. I graduated from Dundalk High School. When I was your age, your school was Towson State Teachers’ College. In those days there were no funds to assist students who couldn’t afford college. Some would go to Towson State Teachers College because if you signed an agreement to teach for two years in Maryland, the tuition was free. You still had to pay for books and room and board.”

“I’ve never had to think about getting enough money for college or clothes or anything that I needed. All my friends come from well to do families. This summer I want to travel around the country and meet ordinary people who have to struggle to survive. The economic recession and unemployment are just newspaper articles for me. I want to meet people on the other side of life.”

“How have you been doing?”

“Not very well. While you are traveling, you are almost in a cocoon with other travelers.”

“Try traveling by bus. Talk to a passenger on the bus. Talk to people sitting on the benches in the station. Get off in a small town and stay for a couple days. Talk to the waitresses, the hotel maids, the gas station attendants. In a city, like here, find the Salvation Army, and ask if you can volunteer serving meals or something else that puts you in touch with people.”

“Thanks.”

After breakfast I hurried to the library and made a reservation on the train leaving Chicago at 2PM Monday and arriving in Little Rock at 3 AM Tuesday. I didn’t see the value of a roomette if I would have to get up at 3 AM. As for the dining car, the only meal would be supper. I could go to Union Bakery and buy a sandwich to take onto the train,

There was a walking tour that day, but I decided to go shopping. I went back to the big department stores. There is nothing to compare to them in Pine Bluff or even Little Rock. I decided to spend about $100. I wanted to buy a sexy nightgown and maybe a couple saucy panties to wear when I was with Willard in Little Rock.  When I was hungry at midday, I went to Starbucks and bought a muffin and coffee for lunch. I did more looking than shopping. I am going to miss the big city atmosphere. I had grown up in a big city.

I had almost finished shopping. I thought of a headscarf. I would want one tomorrow. I didn’t know if the one I bought before was in the box, or maybe hadn’t been packed. I hadn’t seen it in the suitcase.

Back at the hostel I put my packages on the bed with my suitcase, and went back out to buy some supper. That evening I called Willard again.

“Willard, I got a ticket on the train this Monday. I’ll be getting into Little Rock about 3AM Tuesday. Can you meet me?”

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

“I’m going to St. Stanislaus Church tomorrow. I have been going to a Methodist Church with the girls. I went to St. Stanislaus the first Sunday that I was in Chicago. It reminds me of the Catholic Church I used to attend with my girl friends who were Polish.”

“I went back to Baltimore for a visit. I took some pictures of the house where you lived when we were dating. Dundalk has really changed. Our high school is a junior high school now. I went to Harbor Place a couple times. In fact I went to a Methodist Church about six blocks from Harbor Place. That was the first time I had been in church for as long as I can remember. After I came back, I’ve been going to church every Sunday. I’m reading the Bible every day also.”

“Willard, we have so much to talk about, but I am going to cut this short. I want to save enough minutes on this phone in case I have to use it on the trip. Good-night, Willard.”

“Good-night, Dolores. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After the call was over, I sat in the lobby for a while, then went back to my dormitory room and began laying out the clothes I would wear tomorrow, hanging the clothes for Monday in my locker, and putting the rest of the things in my suitcase.

I lay in bed thinking of what it would be like to be in bed with Willard, to have him paying attention to me, and desiring me.

The next day at breakfast the young woman from Baltimore named Brenda sat beside me. She asked me,

“What are your plans for today?”

“This will be my last Sunday in Chicago. The first Sunday that I was here I attended services at St. Stanislaus Catholic Church. It is an historic church. Chicago used to have a very large Polish population. I understand that they rerouted the John F. Kennedy Expressway to avoid disturbing it.”

“Could I come along with you?”

“Of course. Do you have a headscarf?  Women wear something on their head inside the church. I wear a headscarf. Some women even put a fancy handkerchief on their head with bobby pins.”

“I think that I brought a pillbox hat.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby about 10 AM”

I enjoyed Brenda’s company. I was overcome with emotion when I entered the church. This time I remembered to watch for people kneeling before we entered the pew. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to God for the response Willard had toward me, that I could go back, and we could try again. I was also filled with tearful nostalgia remembering my childhood. I had an understanding of my mother that had escaped me all these years. I wish that I could talk to my mother.

Brenda had been in many large churches for weddings and christenings, so the Catholic church was not strange to her. She noticed a number of distinctly Polish relics and paintings including the Black Madonna.

After church we took the el back to the area where the hostel was located. We went into a large cafeteria for our Sunday dinner.

“You know, Brenda, Chicago is the perfect city for you to become acquainted with blue collar America. For the past month or so I have been babysitting two girls ages 11 and 7 for their single mom who works as a waitress to support them. I had to leave and she is going to need someone to watch them until school starts. There was no pay, just free room and board. It is in a blue collar neighborhood. If you would be interested in being an unpaid nanny for the rest of the summer, I’ll give her a call.”

“You know that would be a perfect way to really become acquainted with people who live on the other side of life. Would you call her?”

I called Maggie’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“Maggie, this is Dolores. I am going to be leaving Chicago tomorrow. I was wondering if you have found anyone to watch your girls?”

“No, Maggie, and I’m afraid that I will get fired if I don’t find someone right away. I’ve already missed a day.”

“I met a young lady from Baltimore at the hostel where I am staying. She is a student at Towson University. She is on summer vacation, looking for a summer job. I told her about you and she seemed interested. Would you like for her to come over this afternoon and talk to you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Brenda, could you go over there now?”

“Yes.”

“She said that she would come over to see you now.”

“Thank you, Dolores, and good luck.”

I told Brenda what el line to take, what stop to get off, and drew a map on a paper napkin of how to get to Maggie’s house from the el stop.”

That evening Brenda returned to the hostel to pick up her things. She told me that Maggie wanted her to start right away.

“Their house is very plain and poor but clean and neat. My room is Spartan in every way except for that lovely futon and its comforter.”

On Monday, I left the hostel about 11AM. I took a cab to Union Station because I had a box and a suitcase. When I arrived at the Station, I had to pick up my ticket first. On a whim I upgraded to a roomette. I checked my box and then went to the Metropolitan Lounge. They took my suitcase and gave me a pass.

I left the Lounge and went outside and around the exterior of the Station to the Union Bakery. It was crowded. I ordered a bowl of soup and a sandwich on pretzel bread. I ate the soup and took the sandwich with me.

 “What a dopey thing to do. I upgraded to sleeper car. I will get my supper in the dining car.” 

Just then I saw a homeless man shuffling along away from the Station.

“Sir, would you like to have a sandwich?”

He gave me a broad smile as I handed him the bag.

At the Metropolitan Lounge I received royal treatment. When my train number was called, I went up to the door. I gave a man my suitcase claim ticket. He put the suitcase on a cart. Another man led us out to our sleeping car, gave my bag to an attendant who helped me onto the car and led me to my roomette.

Supper in the dining car was nice. The linen tablecloth, silver utensils, polite server were all touches of luxury. I did not have to sit across from snooty women. The couple who sat at my table were motorcycle enthusiasts. The man was wearing a black teeshirt with a pocket. On his arms were tattoos. The woman with him looked the part of a biker gang doll. They were both friendly and talkative. They lived in Texas and were coming back from the funeral of the man’s uncle.

I returned to my roomette and watched the scenes flash by as the sun sank into the horizon. I wondered when Willard would leave for Little Rock. When the attendant came to make up the bed, I decided to lie on top of the covers in my dress. However, it became cold and I pulled the cover over me.

I fell asleep and was awakened by the attendant rapping on my door.

“Little Rock in about thirty minutes.”

I straightened myself up, took my suitcase down and waited for the train to slow down and stop.