“Of course,” I replied but then I started having a bad feeling when I saw her staring down into her plate too long without saying anything.

“We won’t be able to make love for a while,” she said finally, still not looking at me.

I could see that she was struggling to find the right words to continue.

“Do you care to tell me more,” I tried to encourage her.

“All right,” she said after a sigh. “I was at the doctor’s office today… I had an abortion.”

“An abortion?!” I raised my voice unwittingly.

“Not your child,” she said quietly.

I was waiting for her to say more.

“You know what a late term abortion is?” she asked looking up from the plate.

“Don’t tell me you were five months pregnant!” I responded.

“Why, you won’t believe me?” She sighed again and leaned back in her chair.

I did not know what to say.

“Look,” she continued, “I didn’t know I was pregnant. Just found it out recently… and it had to be my decision whether to keep the child or not. I did not want to burden you with my problem.”

“Do you know who the father is?”

“Of course, I do.”

I lost my appetite for the other half of the burrito. I excused myself and went to brush my teeth. My brain became numb; I just did not know what to think.

By the time I returned from the bathroom, she had turned on the television in the living room. She was watching some kind of soap opera that did not interest me at all. I did not want her to think that I was angry or upset, so I sat next to her on the couch.

She turned off the TV after a few minutes.

“You probably hate me now,” she said quietly.

“I don’t hate you at all,” I responded.

“You just don’t love me anymore, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that, either, did I?”

“But you probably think that way.”

“I don’t think anything right now,” I said. “I had a tiring day at work. I should just go to sleep.”

She started undressing. She took off her skirt.

“Do you want to see?” she asked.

Instinctively, I glanced at her underwear. I could see that it was padded with gauze.

“Still bleeding?” I asked pointing at the reddish spot on her white pant.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

Our mood was definitely not the usual.

By the time Camila finished with the bathroom, I was half asleep on the couch.

“Aren’t you coming to bed with me?” she asked.

I followed her to the bedroom. We went to bed and then I kissed her good night.

“Sweet dreams, darling,” she said and turned towards the wall. She usually slept on her side to avoid snoring. Soon, she was asleep.

My mind was working feverishly. I was trying to understand how I really felt about this shocking news but I was not going anywhere. I stayed awake for quite some time.

When I finally fell asleep, I had a horrible nightmare. In my dream, I was lying there in that same room next to Camila who was naked and motionless, her body white as snow. I was trying to wake her… and then blood began to flow down from the ceiling covering the walls on all sides. I don’t know how long I had to watch the bloody walls, all I remember is that when I finally woke, my heart was racing and I had difficulty breathing.

Camila was no longer facing the wall, she was sleeping on her back, snoring.

I went to the bathroom and then curled up on the couch in the living room.

When I fell asleep, I had the exact same insane nightmare. Except, at this time it lasted much longer.

Awake again finally, I felt miserable. I sat up and forced myself to stay awake the rest of the night. I left for work much earlier than usual. Camila was still asleep, so I left her a brief note on the kitchen table:

“Enjoy breakfast and have a good rest on your day off. See you in the evening.”

I had a hard time doing my job that day. Exhausted, I almost had a car accident on my way home.

“I have a surprise for you,” Camila greeted me when I entered. “I cooked your favorite.”

“Which one,” I was trying to be funny.

While we were eating the enchilada, Camila could see that my eyes were only half way open and that I was struggling to stay awake.

“You need a good night rest,” she said after we finished eating.

“Is that okay if I sleep on the couch?” I asked.

“At least you won’t hear my snoring,” she said with a laugh.

So, I went to the living room and fell asleep in no time.

What woke me up in the middle of the night was the voice of a man. He was shouting something outside repeatedly but the only thing I could understand was Camila’s name.

Next thing I saw was the light coming on in the bedroom. Camila tip-toed through the living room, quietly opened the front door, and stepped out into the hallway.

The man never stopped shouting.

I heard the squeaking of the main entrance door downstairs, and I was wide awake by then. I quickly jumped off the couch, hurried to the half way open living room door and stuck my head out into the hallway.

The conversation I overheard went something like this:

“Come on, Bruno,” Camila said, “stop waking up the neighborhood.”

“Camila, my love, my dearest, my only one… My darling!” the man raised his voice gradually. “You know how much I love you and you don’t even return my calls anymore.”

“Please, Bruno, quiet! And please, go home,” said Camila almost begging. “It’s midnight. Please, go home.”

“Camila, my love, you are carrying my baby,” the man’s voice turned kind of painful. “Let me in! I need to be with you!”

“Bruno, you are drunk, and you are too loud,” Camila responded. “Please, go away!”

“Darling, you must love me, for our child. If you throw me away, I’ll kill myself.”

The quarreling went on for about half an hour and I began to feel extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, Bruno left and Camila was coming up on the stairs.

I quickly went back to the couch and pretended I was sleeping.

Of course, I had another awful night.

Next day, we both left for work at about the same time.

It was Friday. When I arrived in the bank, I went straight to the manager’s office and handed in my resignation.

“No, you can’t leave!” the manager said. “You just started working here.”

“I’m sorry but something happened in the family, I can’t stay any longer.”

“Well, I can see you are disturbed, so I believe you. Here is your paycheck for this week, I won’t deduct this last day. Let me know if you change your mind… or just show up Monday morning.”

I quickly drove back to Camila’s place and packed my luggage. I only took with me what I brought from the East Coast, leaving behind kitchen wear and other items I acquired in California.

The pressure lifted from my brain when I entered the I-10 Freeway, and by the time I was climbing the grade on I-15 towards Victorville, I was able to breathe much easier.

When I arrived at the fork where I-40 branched off, I stayed on I-15 without a moment of hesitation. I was heading straight to Las Vegas.

Whenever I think of my past, I feel like I am watching a movie, and I have a hard time believing that I am the main character in it. There are times when I am proud of what happened. However, I am often ashamed of how poorly I handled myself. Of course, I have a lot of regrets. Still, I wonder whether I would do anything differently if I had to do it all over again.

Between Barstow and Las Vegas I did some thinking. I realized that I must be very careful if I enter a casino because I only had a few hundred dollars. It was obvious that I had to limit my losses – in case I end up not winning -, and that I had to leave before dark. I was planning to get on I-93 South, then catch I-40 at Kingman, and spend the night in a Motel in Flagstaff, Arizona.

I arrived in Vegas mid afternoon. I stopped at the first major casino and looked up John’s number in my address book. He had to be home from work already on the East Coast so I found a phone where the slot machines were not extremely loud.

“What are those bells I hear?” he asked after we said hello. “Are you calling from a church?”

“Not exactly,” I replied.

“So what are you up to?”

“John,” I took a deep breath, “I am on my way back to New Jersey.”

“I knew it,” John said jovially. “I was sure you wouldn’t stay in one place too long. Your room is waiting for you… in case you want it.”

“That’s what I am calling about.”

After we agreed that I would see him in about five days, I had a burger, and then I settled down at a Black Jack table. I played for long minutes without either winning or losing. One of the dealers, an older man, called the waitress a couple times.

“Get him a coffee before he falls asleep,” he said but I waived him down.

“I don’t ever drink that black poison,” I explained.

At one point my luck changed and the fifty dollars I was playing with was gone. I bought chips for another fifty but soon that was gone, too.

I was feeling awful for not stopping as I planned. I was struggling with the thought ‘enough is enough, I must leave’, but I was weak. I was reaching into my pocket for more money. At that moment, as the waitress just stopped to ask me again if I wanted something, a drunken man walking by knocked over the tray in the waitress’ hand. A glass of ice water, full of chunks of ice, landed on my neck. A couple of the ice cubes slipped under my shirt and began freezing my belly.

“Excuse me,” I said and jumped up from the table.

I hurried to the restroom.

The little accident brought me to my senses. Determined, I walked out of the casino, got into my car, and soon I was driving on I-93.

I was very tired. Fortunately, it was not dark yet so driving did not prove to be difficult on that narrow section of I-93. I could see crosses here and there along the road indicating sites of deadly crashes. Years later, I learned that this was one of the deadliest roads in the United States.

It was already dark when I left Kingman on I-40.

After a couple of hours of driving, one of my eyes began to hurt. I tried to keep that eye closed as much as possible but at one point I felt a sharp jolt of pain in it and from then on the pain was bearable only if I kept it closed all the time.

Finally, I arrived at the grade leading up to the ridge where Flagstaff was.

I gained only a few hundred feet of elevation when it started to rain. Soon, the rain turned into snow and driving became difficult without snow tires.

I don’t even know now how I made it up to the top driving with one of my eyes closed, my windshield wipers struggling with the heavy packs of snow, and my tires slipping and sliding every which way.

After checking into a Motel, I was startled when I looked into the mirror: my painful eye had a huge bloodshot covering almost all white areas.

Next day, the pain subsided so I could continue driving.

It was bitter cold when I arrived in New Brunswick. John gave me the keys and I paid him a full month in advance.

“Are you sure you are not going to move out in two weeks?” he teased me. He had that kind of sense of humor. I knew he did not mean it in a bad way, so I laughed.

Next morning, I heard John leaving for work. I went back to sleep and did not wake up until noon.

John left the newspaper on the kitchen table open at the Help Wanted ads. He knew I would be looking for work right away. What he did not know was that I had just enough money left to last for about a month.

Browsing through the ads, I was almost clueless. I had no idea of what kind of job I wanted. I guess that is why I stopped at an ad that had nothing to do with my education or my experience. A company from Texas, Southwestern Petroleum Corporation, was looking for independent sales reps to sell their products in the New York area. I called the toll free number on John’s phone and talked with the Sales Manager.

“You want to sell to the Hungarian community there?” he asked me.

“All communities,” I replied.

“So, you think your English is good enough?”

“It will improve,” I said.

“There is a lot to learn you know.” He sounded almost like trying to discourage me.

“No problem. I will learn whatever I have to.”

“All right then. Give me your name, your mailing address and your phone number. I’ll send you the literature by mail. There will be a test sheet included for all the lessons. When you’re ready with a lesson, complete the test sheet. Put it into one of the self-addressed stamped envelopes and send it back to me. After you pass all tests, I’ll send you the company briefcase with the samples, brochures and whatever you’ll need to get started. It’s commission only. You’ll get twenty-five percent of everything you sell. Any discounting comes off of your commission. Say yes if you agree.”

I agreed.

John was not very excited about the prospect of me becoming a commissioned salesman but from time to time he curiously looked over my shoulder to see what I was studying so diligently.

It took me about two weeks to pass all tests.

As promised, the briefcase arrived – with the huge SWEPCO logo on it – and finally I had a chance to touch those samples of roof and parking lot sealers pressed onto fine wire screens.

I thought I had perfected the sales pitch I had to learn as part of the last lesson so I got into my car and drove out to find businesses. My first stop was an auto body shop.

I greeted the owner. He asked me what I wanted, so I started my sales pitch. Unfortunately, he had an unfriendly look on his face and I got confused after my first couple of sentences. I could not continue. At that point the owner started laughing.

“I bet you’re trying to sell me something,” he said.

I just nodded and showed him my briefcase.

“Getting started?” he said.

I nodded again.

... 

Click PART 3