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MY OWN ROYAL COACH
MY OWN ROYAL COACH
MY OWN ROYAL COACH
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MY OWN ROYAL COACH

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Born to the African island Nation of Cape Verde, Fatima was eager to take flight and discover the world. She grew up in a one bedroom home with her parents and her nine siblings. Life wasn't easy, but education remained very important to her, as she knew it would

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 28, 2023
ISBN9781638126331
MY OWN ROYAL COACH

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    MY OWN ROYAL COACH - Fatima Priestley

    My Own Royal Coach

    Copyright © 2023 by Fatima Priestley

    Paperback ISBN: 978-1-63812-632-4

    Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63812-633-1

    All rights reserved. No part in this book may be produced and transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher. It hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Published by Pen Culture Solutions 06/13/2023

    Pen Culture Solutions

    1-888-727-7204 (USA)

    1-800-950-458 (Australia)

    support@penculturesolutions.com

    CHAPTER ONE

    I left Rio de Janeiro on September 27th of 1984. I was determined to make it to the United States. I knew I could make it but was uncertain what to do when I got there, and more confused yet about how to stay there. I met this girl on the plane. Her name was Cindy. She was younger than myself and was very kind. We started talking and hit it off pretty well, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach and the fear that I had inside. Going to a place where I had never been before and knowing no one was scary to say the l east.

    She noticed my hands were sweaty and shaking.

    Why are you sweating? Taking my hand in hers she said You are shaking, is something the matter?

    No, there is nothing wrong. I’m nervous about going to a place that I don’t know.

    Where are you going?

    I’m going to San Francisco.

    No kidding, so am I. But first I have to stop in Miami and then take another flight to San Francisco.

    Me too! I replied. How long are you staying in Miami? Do you know anyone there?

    I’m staying for two nights in a hotel. I don’t have anyone in Miami but I have someone in San Francisco. Is your flight going to be right away?

    I kept twisting my hands and shaking, still very nervous not knowing what to do.

    I have to take the next flight to San Francisco and I don’t know how to go about that.

    Why don’t you stay with me in Miami and then we can take our flight together?

    You’re just a doll Cindy, but what would I do while I wait for you?

    You’re so silly. You will stay with me in the hotel, of course.

    Really!? You would let me stay with you? I wouldn’t want to impose, but that would be great.

    No, you wouldn’t be imposing on me, you can stay with me. I can see how uncomfortable you are by taking the plane to San Francisco by yourself, it would be my pleasure to help you

    You’re so kind, I’ll really appreciate that, thank you.

    Do you speak English well?

    Feeling a little embarrassed about leaving my country and going where the language was completely different, I said.

    No, I don’t speak English. The little that I know, I might as well say I don’t understand one word. How about you?

    Very proud of herself, Cindy said.

    I do, quite well I must say. I’ve been to America a few times.

    Do you do business there or something?

    I have a business back home, but I don’t do business with the United States. I have a boyfriend there.

    That explains it all.

    After all the talk, I was a little more relaxed, especially when Cindy offered me her place to stay, and better yet knowing that she spoke English well. We finally got some sleep, and woke up to the pilot announcing that we were approaching the International Airport of Miami. We took our warm wash cloth offered to us, to wash our faces, then our breakfast, and we were ready to get off of that airplane after being cooped up for sixteen hours.

    The pilot landed the airplane safely with a lot of cheerful claps from the passengers, and shortly after that we were off the plane. I told Cindy that if I were to stay with her and take the same flight, I had to go to the booth and change my flight. She asked around to find out where we had to go, so we didn’t have to go around and around looking for the right place. We located the place that someone had told us about, and there she was taking care of things to change my flight to the one we could take together. The change was taken care of with no problem. We took a taxi to the hotel that she had already booked before leaving Santa Katarina. I guess the reason to stay longer in Miami was because she knew the beaches in the City of Miami, and she wanted to take advantage of them. She was very friendly with everyone at the hotel, she knew the people from her prior visits.

    As soon as we were settled in our room, we showered and got all prettied up and went for a stroll on the streets of Miami. I was afraid of getting lost, so I hung close to her. She clearly knew more than I did.

    After a long walk, we were back at the hotel to rest. She told me that she had to call her boyfriend, to let him know that she was already in Miami and when she was leaving for San Francisco so he could pick her up.

    In the meantime I was thinking to myself. I wish I had the confidence that she has. Maybe after a few trips here I will feel better. I must have looked desperate or worried, because when she came back she said,

    What’s wrong? You look terrified. Did something happen?

    Nothing happened, and yes, I’m terrified. I’m thinking about my visa, and how I have just thirty days to stay here in the States. How am I going to pull this off within thirty days?

    She looked at me like I was crazy or something. Then she said,

    What are you talking about? Thirty days? They don’t give you thirty days? Where did you hear that?

    That was what I was told when I applied for a visa to come to the United States. It’s written in my passport.

    With a look like she knew better, she asked me if I could show her my passport.

    Let me see what you’re talking about, I’ll check. I bet you have more time than you think. You have to go to the page that they stamp when you get here in Miami. There they would let you know how long you can stay in America. Believe me, I know.

    You smart alec, okay, show me.

    There you go, I told you. Look at this, told you so. Six months.

    Far out! Let me see, let me see. I pull my passport out of her hand. Get out! Get the hell out, you were not kidding. Oh my goodness!

    I told you. Are you happy now?

    Am I happy? Are you kidding me? I’m ecstatic!

    In fact, I was so happy, I couldn’t contain myself. But, despite the relief that I got, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I was going to do in a country where I had no one to rely on. There was one thing though, I had a lot more time than I thought to accomplish staying in the United States.

    We decided to celebrate. We may decide to even go for a drink, who knows? It was a beautiful night, so we got dressed. Cindy put on white pants and a light blue shirt. I put on my skin tight white pants and a pink button up sweater. We looked stylish; it looked like we were going somewhere fancy. As we were strolling on the streets of Miami, a few blocks ahead of us, on this beautiful day of September 29th, 1984, it turned very dark and rain came down like somebody dropped a bucket from the high buildings and it landed on our heads. Our white pants were no longer white, they were splashed with black spots from the asphalt and strikes of the dirty street. There was no going anywhere, like for a drink or anything like that. Come to think of it, it seemed like there was a wall of sunshine and another wall of a black dark cloud that didn’t give anyone a chance to run for cover. Looking around we saw that we weren’t the only ones dirtied up by the brutal rain and people didn’t seem to be affected. The streets and the sidewalks were not less crowded because of the storm. It was something that people were used to. All of a sudden, the rain stopped and the sun began to shine. The only sign of rain was the wet street and dirty people’s clothes just like our own.

    That was different. I have never seen a change of weather like that. I thought.

    After walking on the streets of Miami we returned to our hotel room and went to bed excited about making our trip to San Francisco the next day.

    We took our flight from Miami and arrived in San Francisco on a beautiful night on September 30th, 1984. On the plane Cindy told me that she had talked to her boyfriend who was going to pick her up at the airport. I, on the other hand, had to rent a room in a small hotel, and try to figure out what to do from there.

    I have the name of a person that I have to check on, when I get to San Francisco.

    We found her boyfriend waiting for her, he was tall and handsome, dressed in brown slacks and blue shirts and a sports jacket, very businesslike. After the introduction he told me that he knew of a hotel in the City that was run by Brazilian people, and he thought that would be my best bet. There were people there that spoke the same language and it would be comfortable. So they took me to this Brazilian hotel on Polk Street. We exchanged phone numbers so Cindy could call me the next day. They said goodbye and went on their way to Palo Alto where the boyfriend lived. I was left alone in the room at the hotel.

    I better make my phone call. I thought.

    The phone number I had was given to me in Brazil by my cousin. She knew I didn’t have anyone in San Francisco.

    I could have gone to Rhode Island, where I had relatives, including my Dad’s brother. But I knew I couldn’t deal with the snow, even though I’ve never seen snow in real life. "I’ve seen the snow on television, so it must be true; I couldn’t deal with it.

    My cousin used to be roommates with this girl in Los Angeles and she gave me her number. Her name was Beth and she lived in San Francisco.

    So, I left my room and went downstairs where the phone was located. I dial the number and Beth answers. I told her who I was and that my cousin Tina had given me her number.

    I would like to meet with you, I told her.

    And you are here in San Francisco? Beth asked.

    Yes, I am. I came with some friends, but they already left.

    Where exactly are you?

    I’m in the Hotel Brazil in Pock Street.

    Really? Have you checked in yet?

    Yes, I’ve already checked in and paid for a week’s stay.

    You already paid and everything?

    Why is she asking all these questions, I thought.

    Yes, I paid for a week, just to see how it goes, then I will see where to go from here.

    That’s too bad, because from what you tell me, the Hotel that you are staying at is very close to my apartment, I could come and get you if you hadn’t paid yet. I tell you what, it’s a little late and I have to get some sleep. Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow, after I get off work?

    That would be great. Thanks Beth. I don’t want to stop you from going to sleep. So, I will see you tomorrow. Good night Beth. It was nice talking to you.

    I returned to my room, thinking what a coincidence that was. Coming all the way from Rio de Janeiro, landed in this big City of San Francisco, and found out that this friend was two blocks away from where I had rented a room.

    The next day I met with Beth. She was very friendly and very petite. We seemed to hit it off right away. She was happy to tell me all about the United States and I was happy to have somebody that knew what they were talking about.

    Beth and I became best friends. She told me that I had to have a job to survive, pay rent, buy food and everything. I knew I couldn’t stay with her in her apartment, because it was not big enough. She managed to convince me to put an ad in the San Francisco Chronicle Paper and advertise myself as a nanny and housekeeper. It didn’t appeal to me to be a housekeeper, but Beth knew better. So I did, I mean, she helped me with the ad.

    The day after the ad went on the paper I got some calls. It was a struggle to understand people on the phone. Some of them were pretty bad, and some weren’t. Why do I say that they were bad? Because it was a man’s voice whispering, I couldn’t exactly understand what was said, but I could tell that it wasn’t a person that needed a babysitter. I answered some of them. I called back the ones that sounded good, and completely ignored the ones that were bad calls. Five days after the ad was in the newspaper a lady called and told me that she was expecting a baby and she wanted somebody to take care of her newborn baby and do some housekeeping. So I went to her house for an interview, she

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