Behold the Dreamers(113)
“Asylum? I had no idea you were applying for asylum.”
“I never mentioned it to you, sir. It is something which I kept between me and my wife and my lawyer. I did not think I should bother you with something like that.”
“No, of course, I understand. I’m just surprised. What does it mean it was not approved? Are you being deported?”
“No, sir, I’m not being deported. But I cannot get a green card unless I am granted asylum, and for that to happen I will have to spend many years and a lot of money going to immigration court. And then maybe the judge will still decide to not give me asylum, which means the government will deport me in the end. It’s not how I want to live my life, sir, especially when you add the fact that it’s just not easy for a man to enjoy his life in this country if he is poor.”
“But isn’t there some other way you can try to get a green card?” Clark said after picking up his ringing phone and telling the person on the line he would call back. “I know how badly you wanted to raise your children here.”
“I did what I could, sir, but—”
“Surely there has to be a way to keep a decent hardworking man like you in America.”
Jende shook his head. “There are laws, sir,” he said.
“Listen,” Clark said, sitting up. “I’ve got a good friend from Stanford who’s an associate director at Immigration. If you had told me you had a case, I would have contacted him for you to get advice, or at least ask for a recommendation for an excellent lawyer. I had no idea.”
Jende looked down and shook his head, a rueful smile on his face.
“It might not be too late,” Clark went on. “Maybe you could reschedule your flight, give me some time to contact my friend and see if we can still help you?”
“I think it’s too late, sir.”
“But there’s no harm in trying, is there?”
“The judge will not allow it, sir, and even if he did …”
“You’re ready to leave.”
Jende smiled. “The truth, sir,” he said, “is that my body may still be here, but my heart has already gone back home. It is true I came here to escape a hard life and I did not want to go back. But when I had no choice but to go back, I found myself happy thinking about home, sir. I will miss America, but it will be good to live in my own country again. I already picture myself going to visit my father’s grave to show him my daughter. I see myself walking around Limbe with my friends, getting a drink, taking my son to the stadium. I am no longer afraid of my country the way I used to be.”
“But what about the children?”
“They will be fine, sir. We already have my daughter’s American passport. She will come back here when she is ready and maybe one day she will file petition for her brother. If not, my son will go to Canada and my wife can go visit America and Canada every few years.”
Clark nodded, smiling.
Jende looked at his watch and made for the door again, but Clark asked him to wait a second. He went over to his briefcase, which was lying on a chair to the right of his desk, sat down for a minute as he wrote something, and returned with a white envelope, which he handed to Jende. “Take this,” he said, “and take care of your family.”
“Oh, sir … oh, thank you so much,” Jende said, taking the envelope with both hands, his head bowed. “Thank you so much, Mr. Edwards.”
“Don’t mention it. Have a safe journey.”
“Oh, I was just wondering, sir,” Jende said as Clark took a step toward the door, “have you heard anything from Leah? Me and my wife, we wanted to invite her to our go-away party, but her house phone has been disconnected.”
“Yeah, I heard from her a couple of months ago,” Clark replied. “She sent me her résumé to help her get a job here, but I don’t think anything came out of me forwarding it to HR, what with the hiring freeze and all.”
“So maybe she is still not working?”
“I think so. Tough job market out there, especially for someone her age. My guess is that she’s probably picked up and moved out of the city so she wouldn’t run out of money.”
Jende shook his head, surprised. Leah hadn’t mentioned a plan to move away the last time they spoke, on Christmas Day. She had sounded fine, but she must have been downcast about her future—no job prospect, diminishing savings, her Social Security income still a few years away. She must have been scared, though she hadn’t given that impression. Could that have been why she was so happy about going to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center? Could it be because she was about to immerse herself in a spirit of hope and, for just a few hours, forget about her circumstances?
“If you ever see her, sir,” Jende said, “can you please tell her I say goodbye and that I am sorry for not saying goodbye to her directly? Please tell her I have gone back to Cameroon but maybe one day, by the grace of God, I will come to visit America and we will meet again.”
“Let’s hope I can remember all that.”
“I feel so bad, sir, when I think about her,” Jende said.
“The economy’s getting better,” Clark replied, turning toward the door.
“That’s what they say, sir, but … I hope she will be okay soon.”