Wednesday, February 6, 2019

NOA, ANTONIO, AND THE IMMIGRANTS





“Don’t be a stranger.”





Saturday, January 17, 2015


As she transferred Apple and Lodge from their high chairs in the dining area to the play mat in the living room, Noa silently watched Morrow say good-bye to their dinner guests.

“You either,” Morrow continued, switching his hug from sahsa to Antonio. “It’s good to spend time with people like us again.”

“Like us?” Antonio questioned.

“You know what he means.” Sasha brushed a natural finger coil off her forehead. “Familiar faces.”

“And actual human beings.” Morrow leaned on the front door. “I never thought I’d be a snob about immigration, especially as a refugee in this community myself, but it is odd living here as a member of this particular type of minority group.”

“The group with a home field advantage who controls the government and defines the culture?” Noa left the crawling babies on the mat and joined the adult trio.

“That’s the price of living in Naboombu, the Ellis Island of the Milky Way,” Sasha said.

“At least we were able to stay in our corner of the galaxy,” Morrow replied.

“Unlike half of our friends,” Noa reminded her husband.

“Well,” Sasha gave her a hug, “you have us. Me, for 90 days. Antonio leaves tomorrow afternoon.”

“So, take care of her,” Antonio told Noa with an unsteady hug.

Noa balanced herself, brushing her hand near the back pocket of his jeans. “As fellow humans, we will do our best.”


FIN





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