Deck Chairs in my Living Room — An Immigrant Gratitude Story

How one of my worst days turned into one I’ll never forget.

In late 2017, I moved to San Antonio, Texas, from Perth, Western Australia, on a wish and a promise, my 16-year-old kitty cat in tow.

After some frustrations trying to get an apartment rental with only a tourist visa and a bank account statement to show sufficient funds, some angels disguised as apartment managers gave me a shot. I had been living in a motel for ten days after a few weeks in Round Rock sleeping on a friend’s blow-up mattress, and was tired of being in limbo as I searched desperately for homes and jobs.

On the day we moved in, however, things didn’t go exactly as planned! In fact, they were downright disastrous.

Upon arriving at the apartment complex at the pre-arranged time of 10am, I was informed that my apartment was not yet ready. Apparently, it needed some work done after the last tenant left and the clean up was still in progress. I was assured that this would be done by 5pm and that I could return then. After the high of the drive and the anticipation of settling into a glorious space of our own — I had spent the previous three months living in other people’s homes as I packed up my life in Australia and made my way to Texas — I hit a brick wall of pure frustration and quickly spiralled downwards.

The dilemma of what to do with my little kitty, who could not spend the day in a hot car with me, forced my mind to run a gauntlet of options.

“Can I shut him in the bathroom of the apartment until the painting and carpets are ready,” I asked hopefully.

“No, we can’t be responsible for that,” she replied emphatically.

“Are there any empty apartments that I could leave him in until my apartment is ready?” I pleaded.

“Unfortunately, we’re not allowed to do that,” she said with a little regret in her eyes.

I knew that no-one would know and that they were quite able to do this, but concern over stumbling into the gray area of the American suing culture caused her to make a choice I could see she didn’t want to make. I said that I needed a moment to think and disappeared upstairs to the tenants’ lounge to figure out a solution, knowing that Jaime was still locked in my car and the day was heating up. I had a thought and quickly pulled out my cellphone, searching for vets nearby who would be able to rent me a cage for the day and called one a few hundred metres up the road.

“Yes, we have space for him,” the kind voice drawled in a southern twang after I had quickly rattled off my dilemma, “our day rate is $24.”

“Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver,” I said relieved. “We’ll be over soon.”

I wandered back down the stairs feeling a little better but still not keen to subject Jaime to yet another small enclosure. Returning to my SUV, I apologized to my son who gave me a mouthful of expletives for leaving him in the car under the hot Texas sun. We headed off to the vet and I checked him in for the day, opening a can of food after he was loaded into the tiny cage. He just looked at me.

“I’m so sorry little man, but I don’t know what else to do. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you so much,” I said tearfully not wanting to put him through this experience again.

He was tired and not interested in my excuses anymore, looking at me in total disbelief. He had travelled alone for three days to get to the US, been subjected to uncomfortable living situations both before, and after his journey, and ten days in a motel room. He turned his back and lay down.

It broke my heart.

I turned around and left knowing that I was doing the best I could under the circumstances.

I headed off to Walmart to get the basics that we needed; groceries, simple cookware, a folding tray table to set the small TV on that I had purchased a few days before, and a set of towels for the bathroom. I spent twenty minutes trying desperately to fit everything into the eight-seater 2002 army green Ford Explorer I had bought a few weeks back, and who I affectionately named Melissa.

I shoved packets into any nook and cranny that I could find, but her large cabin was at capacity after I crammed the final grocery bag in. The space issue was mainly due to a memory foam mattress that, despite being folded in half, was taking up a considerable amount of the cabin and had been so since I’d bought it from “Billy Bob’s Beds” a few days back.

I went off to Starbucks to grab a coffee and study. This is where I was sitting when I got a call to say that our apartment wouldn’t be ready that day!

Just as I was getting ready to lose the last bit of restraint I had shown all day, one of the angels told me that they had a solution.

“There’s another apartment ready,” she said. “The tenant is only going to move in on Tuesday next week so we called him to ask if he was happy to switch. He said that it wasn’t a problem.”

I could have kissed her, elation dripping from my tongue as I thanked her profusely.

“I’m on my way,” I said, quickly packing up my laptop and grabbing my car keys before sprinting back to Melissa as she sat loaded down in the Starbucks parking lot.

With another burst of gratitude to the lovely ladies who were doing their best to help me out, I wound Melissa through the roads of the complex to the rear where I found our new home. Grabbing a few things from the car I let myself into the new space.

The relief of this moment flooded through me and I felt completely overwhelmed, almost bursting into tears.

After months of living with others and the constant transience, I was finally home.

I got a good dose of exercise that day running up and down a flight of stairs slowly emptying the contents of Melissa onto the living room floor. I wanted to pick Jaime up as soon as possible as he was still locked in the cage at the local vet, so I hustled up and down those stairs as fast as my legs could carry me, dropping items wherever I could find an empty space. I bolted to the local Walmart to grab some almond milk, yoghurt, and a bunch of flowers for the angels as a thank you, and raced to the vet.

Taking that little boy up the stairs to our new home, letting him out of his travel crate, seeing him sniff a few of the new items before settling down on the newly laid carpet and looking up at me with peace and contentment, was one of the best moments of my life.

The relief I felt at finally being in our own space in a place that I had dreamed of for so long and that already felt like home, looking toward a future that I was excited about, all came together in that moment as Jaime looked up at me with love and gratitude.

“We’re home little man,” I beamed down at him, sinking to my knees to kiss him. “It’s just you and me again my baby,” I said as I gently stroked his fur. He chirped back, one of his contented sounds.

Sitting on the floor with my fur baby and happily unpacking some of our new goodies, I totally forgot the stress and frustration of the last two weeks. It’s incredible how our brains work in situations like these, it’s almost like we have an instant case of amnesia!

I queued some old nineties sitcoms on my laptop for company and set about finding the right places for our bare necessities.

The TV was soon set up on the little tray table with the rabbit ear aerial moved to the perfect spot for public television reception — cable TV was not at all in my budget. After that I made the bed, well the mattress, so that we could lay our weary bones down whenever we needed to.

I had set up almost twenty homes before and this was my routine, TV or CD player first to have something playing in the background for company, and then my bed, ready for me to fall into after a long day of unpacking.

Next, I turned my attention to the kitchen followed by the bathroom, which needed a good scrub before I was prepared to use it.

With my walk-in closet filled with the two suitcases of clothes I had brought from Australia, plus my shiny new pair of cowboy boots, the final touch was the two camping chairs that sat front and center in the middle of the living room, pointed squarely at the TV.

I looked around with a great deal of satisfaction as I surveyed my wonderful little rudimentary den.

After a hot shower I plopped down in one of the deck chairs and settled Jaime into the other as I rested my hand wearily, but gratefully, on his soft fur, enjoying the feeling of relief that had washed over the both of us.

After three long months, we were finally home.