Almost a Turkish Soap Opera
He has observed that the Japanese are too polite to argue with him even if the rate seems unreasonable. Plus, he knows how to slather them with his good looks and charm.
Chapter 4
The shuttle van business
It is a Sunday afternoon and Adel has just finished his shift. Kamil is getting ready to go to work. Adel lies down on his bed—a dirty twin sized mattress on the floor of Mirwan’s cluttered one bedroom apartment.
“If it weren’t for Mirwan letting us stay at his place and giving us jobs and paying us in cash, I don’t know where we’d be right now,” Kamil says.
Adel makes a face. “Yeah, don’t forget that he’s also working us for less than the minimum wage.”
“But he managed to get us drivers’ licenses and social security cards. The only thing is I still can’t figure how to get around LA yet.”
“I know all the towns, highways, cities.” Adel smiles broadly.
“Hmph. That’s because you’re working double shifts. You’re working so hard,” Kamil replies.
“I’m working hard for the tips. Without the tips, I wouldn’t have saved enough to buy my own shuttle van. That’s how I got Mirwan to get me to be an owner-operator.”
“And why would Mirwan agree to that?”
“I have to pay him twenty percent of the profits.”
Kamil gasps. “Wow, that’s a pretty big cut!”
“Well, if I didn’t work eighteen hours a day and also change the shuttle rates, I wouldn’t have saved the money so quickly.”
“What do you mean change the shuttle rates? We are not allowed to do that. I thought the rates are fixed.” Kamil knew this was against the rules. How could Adel do such a thing?
“Well, that’s why I only change rates with foreign customers,” Adel says.
Kamil feigns interest. “How do you know what rate to give to what customer?”
Adel lowers his voice. “This is how I do it... For the past few weeks, I try this. I look for a group of five Japanese tourists, let’s say. They will be playing with their electronic toys like the Nokia cell phones, Sony cameras, and JVC camcorders. You know the ones like we see at Circuit City. So when I get a group like this, I charge them one hundred fifty dollars to go from the airport to Long Beach.”
Kamil is surprised. “But that should only be a sixty dollar fare!”
“You are a very good student, Kamil.” Adel pats him on the shoulder.
After a few minutes, Kamil brings up the fact that their visitor visas have expired. “Should we ask Mirwan if he can help us get work status visas?”
Adel has never trusted Mirwan but out of politeness he has never said anything aloud since Kamil and Mirwan were cousins. Lately though, he noticed that Mirwan was rude to him, often speaking in a bossy condescending tone. What he didn’t know was that Kamil had to beg Mirwan to give Adel a job. Mirwan told him that he didn’t like Adel because he was full of himself. Kamil knew that the only reason why Mirwan finally let Adel work for him was because he feared Adel’s Grand Uncle.
“No, no... I do not want any more favours from him. I know he’s your cousin but to tell you the truth, dude (a new word he learned), I don’t trust him,” Adel says.
Kamil looks at his watch. “Hey, I have to go do my shift now. I will see you later.” He grabs his lunch bag from the kitchen counter and leaves.
Adel finally has the place to himself. He begins counting his cash and putting them in bundles. He places each bundle into small dark plastic grocery bags wrapping them tight. When he is done, he hides the money throughout the apartment in obscure locations—in the ceiling, under a floorboard, behind the drywall and on top of the highest cabinets.
As a child, he always hid his money all over his home. But it seemed no matter where he hid his money, his father would find it and spend it on cigarettes or gamble it away playing cards with his friends. When he grew older, he learned how to be more creative at hiding his money and soon his father gave up trying to locate his hiding spots.
He always took care of his mother knowing that his father often spent the money for food on his own expenses such as cigarettes or other unnecessary items such as the latest model of cell phones. Even though his mother could hardly manage to put food on the table, his father always had the money to spend to buy the latest cell phone. His father is always the first person in the neighborhood to put an order for one, once the newest model comes out in the market. The funny thing is he rarely receives any phone calls. He simply enjoys the fact that he is the first person in town to own that particular gadget.
When he was a teenager, what drove his mother crazy was the fact that his father never threw anything away even after the device stopped working. In the attic, his father hid a big box of archaic cell phones, chargers and other devices. About once a year, he would bring down the big box (much to Adel’s mother’s dismay) and let Adel and his brothers go through his collection.
Jowdat, the clown that he was, would impersonate his father. He would pick up the very first cell phone his father ever owned (which looked like a black brick and was just as heavy) and wag his finger into the phone. He would pretend he was talking to the local baker, cursing him for giving stale bread for the price of fresh bread, just as his father had done many times in the past. Adel, Sammy and his sisters would burst out laughing. His father used to laugh along with them—denying that he sounded or looked that ridiculous.
Thoughts of his family make Adel homesick. He decides to phone his family. He searches Kamil’s binder for a long distance calling card. Kamil was always good at keeping such things on hand. He finds four calling cards in the front pocket of the cover and takes two for himself. He dials his home phone number in Istanbul.
Adel’s mother answers the phone. She is excited to hear her son’s voice. As always, she fires him off the usual questions. Adel tries to steer the conversation.
“Yes, Ma. I am eating well. Did you get the money I sent to you?”
“Yes my son, I did. Thank you very much. Are you sure you and Kamil don’t need this for yourselves?” Adel’s mother sounds worried.
“Ma, we are fine. Just promise me to not let Father know that you have this money. Use it to pay the bills and buy groceries and if there is any left, save it for when you need it.”
“Oh, Adel. You are such a good son. I miss you so much” She starts to cry. “When are you coming home?”
Adel always hates when his mother is upset. “Ma, I have to go now. Please say hello and send my love to the boys Jowdat and Sammy. Kisses and hugs to the girls, Juliana, Keananna, and Zeinab. Let Father know I am okay and I wish him well. I love you Ma.”
Adel’s mother is still crying. “Yes, yes, I will do that. Please call us again soon. God be with you my son.”
Chapter 5
An unexpected surprise
It is early in the morning and Adel is sitting in his van at the international arrivals area at the LAX airport, waiting for customers to arrive. His goal is to find seven passengers to maximize his profits for one trip. He sees a group of people coming out of the airport looking for a ride. Other shuttle van drivers start walking towards the group calling them to ride with them. Adel is not concerned because he knows who he wants. He spots a group of five Japanese tourists who seem a bit lost. He comes up to them and says in a sweet voice, “Welcome, welcome to Los Angeles. Let me help you with your baggage.”
They are somewhat startled. The youngest man in the group quickly types in his electronic translator. He pushes his glasses up with his finger and speaks in broken English, “We go to Disnee rand hotel.”
Adel smiles. “No problem, Disney Land hotel. I take you.” The group of men appears relieved and they proceed to follow Adel to the van.
The older man of the group shyly asks Adel, “How much?”
“Good price. Fifty percent off for group rate,” Adel says. “For all of you, two hundred dollars.”
The man smiles and nods his head.
He translates to the others happy that Adel is giving them fifty percent off.
Adel is having a good morning and helps them all inside. He looks around to find two more passengers. He spots an older European couple dressed in matching sport clothes, and he says to himself, “This is my day.” He starts to approach them when an attractive woman in her early thirties pulling a large duffel bag and a backpack comes towards him blocking his view of his potential clients.
“Excuse me! Shuttle driver! Excuse me… can you please help me with my stuff?”
Adel frowns—can’t this girl see that he is busy? He continues walking by her towards the older couple. The woman is now walking behind him calling out, “Please, can you help me with my stuff? I need to get to Anaheim.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry miss, I’m not going that way.”
She grabs his arm and stops him. “Oh yeah, then why is that guy in your van keep saying, ‘Yay, I’s going to Deesnee Rand’, and the sign on your van says Anaheim.”
Adel looks back at the van and sure enough, his Japanese passenger is gleefully dancing beside the van, waving at other tourists while singing “I going to Deesnee Rand.”
Adel looks down at the woman. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Now please let me go.”
The woman grabs his elbow again. “You know you can lose your license for this. I can report you for discriminating me because I’m a woman!”
Adel snaps. “I’m not discriminating you because you’re a woman.” He lowers his voice and looks around and says, “I’m discriminating you because you’re a local!” and he pulls his arm from her grip.
Unfortunately, the couple he had his eyes on earlier are now being escorted away by another shuttle driver from a rival company.
“Hey!” the woman cries out, “Come on, help me out here. You’re going to Anaheim anyway, what’s one more person?”
Adel rolls his eyes and turns back to her. “Okay, let’s go but it’s going to cost you twenty-five dollars.”
The woman puts her hand on her hips. “The going rate to Anaheim is seventeen dollars and that’s all you’re getting. Get it? Got it? Good!” and she turns around and gets inside the passenger side of the van slamming the door shut.
Adel gives a big sigh and shakes his head, picks up her bags and puts them in the back of the van.
After the luggage is loaded and his passengers are ready to go, Adel begins driving to Anaheim. The woman who drove him crazy earlier is seated beside him on the passenger side.
She asks him, “So where are you from?”
Adel replies quickly, “Los Angeles.”
She shakes her head. “No really…where are you from originally?”
“Originally? From Hollywood but now Los Angeles,” he replies quickly. “Can we stop this interrogation? I need to focus on driving.” Although he often asks this same question to his customers, he is uncomfortable when strangers ask him about his own background. Who knows? What if this lady was an undercover immigration officer underneath that charming smile and pretty dress? He shakes his head and tries to focus on the road.
She laughs softly and looks out the window. “Let me guess… East European? Hmm…no...your accent doesn’t sound like that…Greek? No…I’d know a Greek accent if I heard it. Definitely Mediterranean…Am I close?”
Adel turns to look at her. “I am surprised with your knowledge of accents. Most American girls I have met thought that Turkey was the capital of Australia.” He smiles in spite of himself and says gruffly, “You live in Anaheim?”
The woman smiles. “No, I’m just visiting with my father for the summer. I actually live in British Columbia, Canada.”
Adel asks, “Are you Canadian then?”
She nods. “Well, I have dual citizenship. Canadian and American. I’ve been living in BC and LA back and forth since I was thirteen when my parents got divorced. I prefer Canada though. Cleaner, nicer, safer… that’s why I only come down here for a couple of weeks to visit with my dad.”
He gives her a glance and notices that she looks mixed, possibly Chinese and American. He notices that her eyes are a deep blue green colour much like his own. The shape of her eyes is almond-like, giving her face an exotic look. He shakes his head and turns back to the road. They continue their conversation as he drives. Slowly, he allows himself to joke with her. He has decided that she seems too nice to be an immigration officer.
The van now arrives at the first stop—the Disneyland Hotel. His Japanese passengers start climbing out. They are chattering in Japanese and snapping photos while waiting for their luggage. Adel unloads their bags and places them on the sidewalk. With his Polaroid camera in hand, the younger Japanese tourist motions to Adel to stand near the other members of his group. He calls out to the woman passenger, “Come heer, Missy, Missy. We want to take picture of you preety lady.”
Amused, the woman gets out of the van. The Japanese tourists wave for her to stand beside Adel. He smiles, trying to contain his laughter. She gives him a wink as she walks towards him. He casually places his arm around her. She looks up at him, a little surprised but not annoyed. He smiles at her and points toward the camera, reminding her that they had to get ready for the shot.
The young Japanese tourist points his camera to the group and counts to three in Japanese, “Iche, ne, san… Cheeeeesssee!!!” The camera, an instamatic, flashes and in seconds a photo slides out the front. “Again! Again, pleeze minna. Everybuddy.” He points the camera again and everyone freezes their poses for another shot. The young man, pleased with himself, pushes his glasses up with one finger and grabs the photo with his other hand. His friends come around him eager to see the photo. Adel, being much taller than all of them simply bends his head over one of them to see the photo in the young man’s hands. The picture’s image starts to appear. The group of men chatters excitedly in Japanese, pleased with how the photo has turned out. The woman stands to the side watching the interesting spectacle in front of her. Adel turns around and nods his head at her to come take a look. As she comes towards them, the Japanese tourists politely move aside to let her in. The young man offers the photo to her with both his hands outstretched as if surrendering a peace offering.
The photo displays the group, very happily smiling. But in particular, she notices that Adel and her look very much like a couple – a very happy couple. She smiles and nods her head. “Beautiful, Utsukushii,” she says. She hands the photo to Adel. He looks at it and then discretely slips it into his shirt pocket.
The young Japanese tourist now hands Adel the payment for the shuttle service. He turns to speak with the other men in the group. Then he smiles and bows as he hands Adel an additional twenty dollar tip.
“Tip. Tip. Zenk you veddy muchy!”
Adel accepts the tip. “Dōmo arigatō and Sayōnara,” he says in Japanese. He learned how to say thank you and good-bye in Japanese because he knows it pleases his customers from the land of the sun. The whole group burst out into laughter impressed with his knowledge of Japanese phrases. They bow and repeat the same phrases back to him. He in turn bows to them again and then turns and waves good-bye.
Adel and the woman are the only passengers left in the van. He starts driving. “So what is address to drop you?” he asks.
She smiles. “You mean, what address do you want to be dropped off at?”
He frowns. “I said that, no?”
She shakes her head and gives him a piece of paper with the address.
“Sorry, I teach English as a second language at the university so I have a bad habit of correcting everyone’s grammar. It drives all my friends crazy.” She laughs to herself.
He makes a turn down a side street and drives slowly till he finds the address. He stops and parks the car and they both turn to each other – an awkward moment.
“Well…thanks. Here’s twenty-five dollars.” She hands him the bills.
He shakes his head. “No, seve
nteen dollars is the charge.”
She smiles and pushes the money back to him, “Well, consider the rest a tip.” She turns to get out of the van.
He is caught off guard. He takes her bags out from the back and brings them to her. He takes the money from his pocket and hands it to her.
“Here, please take this back.”
She is surprised. “No, no… why are you..?”
He pauses and then says, “This trip was the most interesting conversation I have with someone since I come to US. I cannot accept money for it.” He gives her a smile—this time it is genuine.
She nods her head slowly. “Well, okay… thank you. But if you won’t take my money, then I will take you for coffee. And I won’t take no for an answer. Help bring my bags in, please.”
He stifles a chuckle as he picks up her bags. “Yes, mademoiselle. As you wish…”
She turns back and smiles. “Nora, Nora Lee Morgan. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She stretches out her hand.
“Adel Emre. Pleasure to meet you too.” They shake hands.
Chapter 6
Where dreams come from
Adel parks outside the LAX airport. They enjoy watching the planes land and take off on the runways. Earlier they had stopped at Starbucks coffee shop. Nora kept her promise and bought Adel a coffee, even though Adel insisted on paying. Nora offered to buy him an iced cappuccino or mocha, but he politely refused. He was not fond of the fancy flavors or different types of coffee. Black coffee was the closest to Turkish coffee you could get at American coffee shops.
“So you are here in America because you think you can fulfill all your hopes and dreams?” she asks.
He nods his head. “Back in my country, I feel like every day is being in jail. No future, nothing for myself. I wake up every day and go to do the only work available for all men my age… construction. I finish college as an engineer and work hard to graduate. In the end, I work like a dog, like my father who did not finish high school. And if I stay, in a couple years, my mother and father will arrange for me to marry a cousin from the village. “
“Is that such a bad thing?” she asks. “It seems your family works hard to live a good clean decent life. Take my family for instance, both my parents are remarried and have kids with their new spouses. I don’t feel close to either of them. I’ve always had to take care of myself.”