Ten Deep Breaths
“I can do this.”
He said to the reflection in the mirror.
“Mom, Dad, Teresa, and Victor are all counting on me.”
“No turning back.”
“I’ve got to do this.”
Early in the morning beams of sunlight shined through a cramped, three-bedroom house in East Los Angeles. Inside, Jorge stood in front of the bathroom mirror, face to face with what could be.
Could Jorge be the one?
Could he, the firstborn, become a manifestation of his familia's dreams?
***
“Are you kidding me!”
“I can’t believe this is happening!”
“Out of all the days!”
“I’ve got to get to freaking work!”
“Why today!”
The passengers said this and a salad of four-letter words as the city bus broke down. One of them, Jorge, sat dispirited and in shock as his interview was in an hour.
He had recently graduated from UCLA, commuting daily from his parent’s small casa in the working-class side of the city. Jorge’s father, Pedro had a small landscaping business, but lately, profits from the business could not keep up with Los Angeles’ rising cost of living. Jorge’s mother, Lucia was a cook at a taco stand. She started her days before the crack of dawn feeding a long line of men before they began their work shifts.
Pedro and Lucia had fallen in love in western Mexico and immigrated to the States twenty-five years ago with hopes and dreams for themselves and their future children. Jorge’s parents had worked with their hands so he could work with his mind.
Jorge jolted himself from momentary self-pity, gathered his thoughts and exited the broken down bus. A potential life-changing job interview awaited. Jorge tried Uber on his phone but there was a surge of three times the normal price. Last week Jorge’s parents spent $300 for an interview suit and funds were tight in the family. Uber was not an option.
If he walked there was no way of making it in an hour’s time. Run or jog? That was a no go as well. He had a suit on and it was August in Los Angeles. Jorge’s choices on how to make it to the interview in time were disappearing faster than his mom’s fresh, homemade, empanada desserts.
Just then a chunky teenage boy darted by him on a bright yellow electric scooter. Why not try a scooter? Jorge found the website of an electric scooter company on his phone and located an available scooter half a block away. He then carefully took off his suit jacket, dress shirt, and tie and put them over his shoulder and stepped on the scooter. Bu using the scooter Jorge could make it to the interview with 15 minutes to spare.
Jorge rode down the city streets intent to fulfill his quest to ace the interview. While riding the scooter he thought about the sacrifices his parents had made. The countless 70 plus hour work weeks his father put in and his mother waking up at 4 am to prepare food for the taco stand.
If Jorge could get this job as a junior engineer while still living with his parents he could save money to better his family. Teresa and Victor, his younger siblings, would also be in a better position when they graduate from high school with the money. The importance of this interview was immense and Jorge had to excel. There was no other option.
He drove closer to the building with waves of gratitude flooding over him. He made it. Jorge walked into the first-floor bathroom and put back on his interview attire. The morning transport to the interview was tumultuous with the unexpected breaking down of the bus. But there he was in the bathroom almost ready.
Jorge was still flustered from all that transpired and needed to settle down. He read something online in preparation for the interview about how to calm your emotions and clear your head by taking ten deep breaths. Why not give it a try he thought?
Jorge took a deep breath in and out ten times. Then the thoughts that were racing in his head slowed and he started to remember everything he needed to do well in the interview. Jorge remembered what he wanted to say when asked “Tell me a little about yourself?”, about how to mention he was Vice President of the UCLA engineering club and why he was a good fit for the position.
Then he stepped out the stall and saw no one else was in the bathroom. Jorge looked in the bathroom mirror straight at his reflection. He had his father’s gentle, dark eyes and mother’s broad nose.
“I can do this.”
He said to the reflection in the mirror.
Jorge walked towards the elevator as his interview was on the third floor. He was almost to the elevator and noticed a Hispanic middle-aged woman changing a lobby trash can. She was around the same age as his mom except his mom was short and stout and this woman tall and slender. They briefly locked eyes and exchanged a warm smile. Maybe this woman had a son around the same age in which she heaped her hopes and dreams?
Then he pressed the up button and walked into the elevator. There he stood confident as it began to ascend. Jorge stood not in a confidence of his own but of his entire familia.
copyright R.C. Platt 2020
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