Immigrant

Work, work and work again. Just another day in this company. I wish I could say that I like it, but, honestly, it was just one big joke. I remember what my boss told me once:

,, If you don't like it, you can find a new job.”

He knew I cannot. I was an immigrant and spent all my money for lawyer just to get the papers. My boss paid me six bucks less than it was legal in the country.

,, And who do you think will pay the insurance for you? Me? I don't have any money from this business,” he said right before he got into his new Tesla car and went home.

But I needed this job. Not just for me but also for my girlfriend. She was pregnant. If I lose this job, we would have to leave the country. And my boss knew it. So as I said before, this was just one of those days.

I parked a van in front of big, old and beautiful house. The companies van was small, black and there was big logo on the sides with white edging and writing BLACK BOOK. You can probably imagine how it looked like.

I went outside, took my old lighter and pack of cigarettes from my pocket and opened it. Just two left.

,,For Christ's sake,” I told to myself while I tried to lit a cigarette, ,, back in my country I was a teacher of art and now I kill people for a few bucks which hardly help me to pay a rent.” The truth was that nobody from this country wanted to do my job. It was absolutely legal but it smelled dirty. Not literally.

I walked around to open van’s backdoors. There was a big black toolbox waiting for me. I looked at the house again. There were long stairs in the front which looked like they want to kill me.

I took a toolbox and, step by step, walked up the stairs with bad feeling of accidently suicide. I put it down and pushed the bottom on the door bell. Annoying buzzing came from inside.

The doors opened. Man, around 90 years old, appeared with hesitant expression on his face. He was small and everything on him was white. White short hair, white wrinkled skin, also his suit, which had really expensive look, was white. Another crazy person, I thought.

,,Hello, how can I help you? ,” he asked.

,,Good morning, sir, I'm from Black book company,” I said and his expression suddenly changed to big, almost childish smile.

,,Oh, that's great. You came on a time. So unusual in these times."

,,Thank you, sir, we try to do our best."

,,Come in, please, come in."

I took my toolbox and went inside. I tried to take my shoes off by feet while I was holding that big heavy thing.

,,It's not necessary, my boy, it will be over soon anyway, am I right?"

,,Oh, yes, sir, you're right," ,,thanks God" I thought for myself.

,,Where is your accent from?" he asked while we were walking through the long hallway, ,,Quebec? France? Belgium?"

,,No sir, I'm Polish."

,,Really? That’s strange, I would say you're from Belgium."

,,No sir, I'm pretty sure I'm from Poland."

,,Anyway, your English is very good."

,,I didn't say much but thank you sir."

We came to the living room. It was nice, big, and full of old stuff, which looked also pretty expensive. I’ve noticed photos of him and some woman about his age. They travelled a lot. Paris, Moscow, Las Vegas, Sydney, even some frozen country with penguins in the background.

I put toolbox on the floor, opened it and started preparing the tools.

,,Hmmmm,” old man said, ,,so this is how it looks like.”

,,Yes sir,” I said, ready for all the questions about how each tool works like. Usually I told same story every day three times at least. And listened to the same stories.

,,I forgot to ask your name, my boy,” old man said.

,,My name is Krzysztof, sir, but you can call me Chris.”

,,Nice to meet you, Chris, my name is Daniel. And you don’t have to call me sir.”

,,I know, sir...I mean, Daniel. Your name was in the documents.”

,,Oh, of course,” he said and turned away from me. He stood just like that for a couple seconds, looking out of the window, and then asked me: ,,do you believe in heaven, Chris?”

,,No, I’m agnostic,” I said. The truth was that I prayed every day. Old polish catholic education. But I just knew where this conversation would go.

,,Me neither,” he whispered, like it was some sort of secret which nobody should hear. Then he turned back and looked at me, ,,I wish I would,” he tried to smile, really hardly, ,,You know, I was really rich. I had everything I wanted. But, as you can see, I’m also really old. And after my wife got sick...” he covered his old face with wrinkled hands and stopped talking for a while. Then he took his hands down. His eyes became wet. ,,no doctor, no medicine could help her. So we decided to spend all the money just to travel around a world together. Somewhen in the middle of our trip, when we were in Las Vegas, we won 20 000 dollars. It was a good feeling but after a few minutes I felt how useless this money was. At this exact moment, I made an idea in my mind...that I will safe this money for our last adventure.”

I stopped preparing the tools and looked at him.

,,Are you trying to tell me, that after you won 20000 bucks, you decided to spend them on your suicide?” it was so incomprehensible to me that I catch myself with an opened mouth. Not because of his decision but because this was the first time I heard how much our company gets for job like this. Of course, I could hear my boss with his arguments about how he doesn’t get enough money from this business and he also has to pay me, his employee. Anyway, with 20K in my pocket, I would have completely different plan then this old man.

On the other hand, I didn't feel good watching him crying in front of me. I knew I will be the second last person before he will pass away. I almost felt a shame after what I said, but I also realized that this was nothing new to me. Not after two years in the Black book company. It reminded me, I think it was Nietzsche I've read years ago who said ,,whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you," or some like that.

,,I'm sorry," I said after a while, not sure if I really meant it.

,,No, you are right," he said. His answer surprised me, ,,but you are still young. How old are you?"

,,I've just turned 30 yesterday."

,,Oh, congratulation," he tried to smile again,,, well, Chris, I had a beautiful life with my wife. And this was our decision. We spent our life together and we don't want to live or die without each other. Maybe you think it's stupid. Lunatic. But it's rational. I don't want to live with a shadow of her in my head and she doesn't want to leave me here like that. And now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He leaved the room and went to the other. I had a time to finish preparing all the tools, thinking about what he just said. I looked at the pictures again. There were also some older ones where Denis and his wife were much younger. Then I realized that there was nobody else on them. They had no child. I was thinking about my pregnant wife for a moment.

The doors where Denis went before had been open again and the sound awaked me from my delirium. I could hear how he’s talking to somebody. His voice sounded much nicer then before he left but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Then the wheelchair appeared. The person who sat on it looked like his wife on the pictures, but not exactly same. Her skin, hair, face, hands, everything were pale, almost snowing white. She had dressed bright blue suit. Denis was pushing the wheelchair in front of him towards me. Then he stopped, leaned forward and spoke really close to her right ear: ,,This is Chris, he will take care of us,” he kissed her on a temple, straightened up again and smile at me with sort of expression on his face telling me ,,say something.”

,,Hello Mrs, my name is Chris, it is a pleasure to meet you,” I smiled at her but it looked like she didn’t notice. Her lids were half closed. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. It reminded me my first call with my boss before I got this job.

,,So, shell we begin?” Denis asked.

,,Oh, yes, sure. Your wife can stay where she is right now. You can sit on this chair,” a pointed on the chair which I prepared before. Denis, still smiling, walked by and sat. I took the injections from toolbox and filled it with dark blue liquid.

,,So this is it?” Denis asked.

,,Yes, this is it. You don’t have to worry. No pain, just a long sleep,” I said while I tried to focus on the filling the injections.

,,Hmmm, long sleep. Doesn’t sound bad at all. Does it, my darling?” Denis smiled at her wife but she didn’t respond.

I looked at them.

,,Ok, this is time when you can say what you want to say before I will apply the substance,” I said.

Denis looked at her wife.

,,I just want to say one thing. Goodbye, my love.”

I looked at his wife. She didn’t react.

,,Ok, I’m going to start with you, Denis. Please, prepare your forearm,” I came to him and knelt on one knee with injection in my hand. In seconds, the fluid spread into his veins and whole body.

,,Goodbye, Denis.”

,,Goodbye, my son,” shortly after that I looked at my watch and close his lids.

I stood up and walked to the tools to take the second injection. Then I went toward the woman on wheelchair. She didn’t show any expression. I took her arm and inject the fluid into it. Then I heard quiet, almost whispering voice, full of distraction.

,,No,” she said. I looked at her and she looked at me. Her lids were not half closed anymore. They were wild open and she looked at me with her big, bright, blue and beautiful eyes of girl from the pictures.

,,I...I’m sorry,” my voice was shaking. In several seconds, her eyes were closed. I stood up, looking at her and couldn’t understand what just happened.

Back in the van, I opened a pack of cigarettes. Last one. I lit it. My brain couldn't concentrate on one thing. Did Denis know? Wasn’t it just his selfishness? Was it just her self-preservation when she said ,,no?” I couldn’t wipe out her eyes from my mind. And did anybody care? Denis, my boss, my pregnant wife, even me when I was just doing my job?

The phone rang. It was message from my boss.

DON’T SMOKE IN THE VAN!!!

I throw cigarette butt through the window and waved with big fake smile on the camera which was monitoring the cab. For a moment, I forgot. Two more jobs for today. I started the engine. Work, work and work again. The street looked like an abyss and I couldn’t stop gazing into it.