Connection

I'm wearing a long sleeved, light purple Patagonia shirt with a half zip, black stretchy pants, jogging runners, a bun in my hair and a long gold necklace that opens to reveal a clock. I'm rounding the corner of the Pepsi Cola factory and continuing down the dirt road. To my left is an open field that stops at the base of a hill after giving way to multiple shacks. Pot hole. To my right is the brick wall of the factory. Another pot hole. My connection to home is coming up on the far left. Huge hole in the middle of the road. A pile of dirt and rocks. Road work.

The world around me is slowly waking up. I can hear the metal shudder to the tiny communications shop opening. The man that owns it takes a step outside and puffs a cigarette. The rising sun kisses his face before he has the chance to shield it and go back inside. I'm following him in the shop. I'm pointing to a phone and giving him a phone number. I'm entering the poor excuse for a booth and picking up the phone. The man is signaling me.

I'm taking a deep breath.

A distant crackle. A few weak rings. A far off,

-Hello?

-Hi!

-Hellooo?

-Hello!?

-Marce is that you? I can barely hear you.

-Sorry there's a really bad connection. Can you hear me?

Delay. Delay

-Yeah I can hear you a bit. How are you?

-I'm okay.

Delay. Delay. Words cutting over words.

-What? I can barely hear you. Are you Okay?

-I'm fine! There's a huge delay between...

-That's good to hear. How was the... there's a delay?

Panic is rising in my chest. I'm trying to hide my face from the man that's all to obviously trying to watch and listen.

-How's everything at home? How are you?

-Good. We're all good. How's

-That's good. How's work?

- your homestay? What's good?

-It's okay. It's a huge adjust...

-Work's work. Do you...

-Oh goo...

I'm crying and panicking. What's with this piece of shit!? I can't hear anything!

-Are you still...

-Sorry the delay is terrible.

-there, Marce? Oh the

-Yeah I'm still here

-delay is...

No! The connection is cracking up. She's getting away. Let me jump through the phone LET ME JUMP THROUGH THE PHONE!!

-I'm losing you

-I can't hear any...

-Can you call...

-I'm losing you too...

-You're losing...

-Call you when!?

She's drifting.

-I love you!!

She's drifting.

-Call me after...

She's gone.

FUCK! I'm hanging up the phone and secretly wiping the tears from my hot face. I'm leaving the booth. The man is looking at me.

-So soon?

-Bad connection

I'm throwing my money at him and making for the door.

-Later. Better time. Better connection.

-Thank you

I'm leaving the shop and turning left. I'm wiping the tears. Pothole. I'm passing a man on a rickety bicycle shouting to the world about the lettuce he has for sale. I'm veering right. The shop to my left is selling the last bag of milk to a young girl. I'm crossing a small chunk of mud and grass. Stray dog. I'm breathing deep. Another stray dog. I'm passing a little boy kicking a ball around. I'm walking up to the stone fence that surrounds my new home. I'm taking a deep breath. I'm reaching for the gate handle. I pause. I turn around and look at the rows and rows of lettuce, the young kids in uniforms walking to school, the mist burning off the field, the half built brick houses, and the dirt roads. I'm listening to the prayer bells. A small smile is spreading across my lips. I'm entering the gate. I wonder if the tea and biscuits are ready yet?