I expected Monday to be an awful day. I expected to buy a one-way plane ticket from my best friend and experience that loss all over again. I expected to turn in his suitcase to some smirking immigration agent. I expected to have another bad episode triggered by what I was told was likely to happen. There was no way on heaven or earth that we could have anticipated what was going to take place.
Alberto called me just as I was leaving Ashley’s Preschool, which was odd as he should have been in route to the USICE holding area for his court appearance by that time. He said that the guys had come at 5 am like usual, but they told him that he didn’t have court today so he didn’t get to go. Naturally he was a little upset, thinking that we received yet another continuance, but I told him I’d do what I could to get to the bottom of it. I asked Alberto to call me back in 30 minutes so I could call Lance to see if he knew what was going on. I went straight to USICE and stared down the guards blocking my entrance. I held back my snappy retort through the sheer force of my will, but I don’t know that I would be that strong if I have to come back again. I swear they must enjoy playing the fool since there is no good reason to spend my days in a building full of irritating and often dense immigration officials just because I want to. The largest guard actually pawed through my purse this time; must be because of the ‘shanks’ I carry to help while away the hours. Lance calls my circular knitting needles my ‘shanks and ligature’ even though the steel barreled pen in my purse is a more formidable weapon in my eyes.
I arrived at USICE early since that is how I’m built, but I wasn’t there before 8:45 so that was a plus. Sometimes I’m there as a place holder for the attorney who is typically on the late side, and sometimes I just get the opportunity to sit on my butt for an additional 2 hours for my trouble. Today Lance was late, albeit on purpose to give the judge’s clerk an opportunity to review our documentation to have a decision ready for us. What we definitely didn’t want was for Judge Whatshisface to ‘wing it’ which had the potential to be disastrous. Lance was obviously exhausted; he said his daughter didn’t sleep at all last night. After he told me about how she had just learned to walk and had been all over the place that night, I suggested it might be her legs bothering her. I had growing pains a lot as a teenager and I found that putting pressure on my legs or wrapping a blanket around them helped me sleep. He fell asleep for several minutes at one point. He really should have taken the nap while he was able to. It was quarter after 11 before it was finally our turn. I sat in my usual chair next to the wall and fix my gaze on the doorway waiting impatiently to catch my first glimpse of Alberto when he walks through the door. It’s for that moment that I’m willing to wait all morning; that few minutes to see him without a video call or through a plate of glass. It is always worth it.
To my surprise we have two government attorneys sitting in on this hearing, Boris and his coworker that reminds me a bit of Drew Carey pre-weight loss. Let the bickering begin gentleman! It’s clear from moment Judge Whatshisface opens his mouth that he going to assert that he doesn’t have any authority in this case, but he is swiftly interrupted by Boris. They are still trying to assert that Alberto is correctly in these deportation proceedings and to my dismay it appears that the judge agrees. Lance quickly asserts that this is not the case and explains his position. The Judge attempts to interject, to which Lance orders in a forceful voice, “Let me finish.” Lance has now been elevated further in my estimation. Once Lance finishes his argument as the legality of this situation, Boris commences a tirade on why Lance is wrong and he is right. After a brief stare down, Boris consents that his position comes from someone ‘higher up’ in USICE chain of authority. Boris states that the proceeds will not be terminated and Alberto will be deported, but we could still pay for the ticket. At this point my heart fell into my stomach even though I knew this would be the outcome. Lance asserts that we have always been willing to pay for the ticket, but the adjucation official who would rule over our waiver process through the consulate would only be severely confused by the dubious outcome of these proceedings. It was agreed that the hearing would then be continued to the afternoon because Lance had an appointment at noon and there were more people waiting to be seen yet this morning. I was disappointed to have to come back yet again, but I promised Lance that I would return at 1 pm. I need to be there for Alberto through this whole process because I wasn’t there when he took the plea bargain and I still feel bad about that. I walked out to my car with Lance while explaining that, and he said he would let me know if he managed to get out of the appointment before 1 so that I could be there when the hearing resumed.
So I’m in Bloomington for the duration since I’m very low on gas and hungry to boot. I went the only place I could think of to squander 90 minutes. I hadn’t been to Mall of America since the time Lizzy and I took the girls to Underwater World, an enormous aquarium inside of the mall that has a store with ridiculously expensive products. That was in November of 2010, I really don’t get out much. I wandered to the fourth floor food court that looks out over Nickelodeon Universe and played the Russian roulette of mall food; which vender is least likely to make me sicker than three dogs today? I choose Baja Sol because the menu looked healthier and they offered fresher looking food than the neighboring Asian, Thai, Japanese, and Chinese cuisine buffets. The mall was near empty, but fortunately there were enough people around for me to feel a little weird about eating by myself, and not like I was the last person left on earth. After lunch I called my mom to make sure she would be about to borrow me the $750 that I would need if I had to buy Alberto’s plane ticket through USICE today. I even had a map to the nearest branch of our bank in case I needed to go get a cashier’s check just for this purpose. I went on a meander through the mall, stopping occasionally if a store caught my eye. I walked one lap on each of the four floors, which comes to just over two miles. I was wearing dress shoes and stopped at just about every jewelry store along the way, so covering that distance is quite an achievement.
I left the mall at a quarter past 1 for the portal to Dante’s Inferno. I refuse to be intimidated by the guards who look like jet-puffed marshmallows stuffed into uniforms two sizes too small. Their snarled questions about the purpose of my visit receive a response dripping with scorn, “I am here for my husband.” Despite having been cleared through security a few hours ago, the same guard was still determined to paw through my purse. It was just last Monday that the receptionist told me they do not accept cash at any immigration offices nor do they allow any valuables or electronics in the luggage because the guards were stealing anything they could get their disreputable hands on. I make a point of checking the contents of my purse myself and muttering something about everything being all there. I will not allow the guards the satisfaction of believing I hold them in any sort of regard, it would give them too much power. I sat in my habitual chair in the windowless dungeon of the USICE waiting room and waited for Lance to return. One hour passed, and the second hour quickly followed. The judge’s clerk, Drew, and even Boris checked the waiting room and asked me if Lance had returned yet. Around 3 pm Lance appeared and was immediately cornered by Boris. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see the surprise on Lance’s face from my vantage point. Good Lord, what is going on now? I heard Lance say that he needed to talk to his clients about this development before they made a decision and felt my heart drop into my stomach.
“Let’s talk in my office,” said Lance with a smirk, pointing to the empty visitor’s room. We shut the door and sat down. “The government has changed their position in this matter yet again. The government attorney said they are willing to concede that not only did Alberto have parole, but if we admit he requested entry they will deem him eligible to adjust status here. However, as I stated before, an arriving alien is not eligible for bond or release. This means that Alberto would be in jail for another two months at least while we compile the waivers and await a decision.” I was dumbstruck by this revelation. I fired a barrage of questions at Lance while my voice trembled with emotion. “He could stay? Could he be moved to another jail? We need to talk to Alberto about this. It must be his decision since he will be the one in jail.” I was overwhelmed by this godsend and my thoughts whirled with what needed to be done. Lance said we would request a continuance so we could submit the proper paperwork and talk to Alberto.
The hearing progressed like lightening; the continuance was granted for February 13th and we were expected to have everything ready for filing beforehand. Lance had me interpret for Alberto after all was said and done. We would take this path, filing the waivers from the US while he waited in jail. After the next hearing we would request that he be moved to another facility for the time being since the jail he was in was used primarily for people leaving on the next plane. The distance would make visits more difficult, but if a different location would make him happier so be it.
Pray for us dear readers, I have so much to do and not much time to accomplish a miracle. We have already been so blessed, but it’s not over yet.
“Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing, at whatever cost, must be attained.”
Marie Curie
Ciao
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