CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
2004- Nexile
I got my discharge date!
It was nerve-wracking to think that I’d be going back to New York and starting my life over, in virtual exile, yet again. How many times can one person start over?
But there was no time for “deep thoughts” at that moment- I had a discharge and re-entry to coordinate.
First up, I called Simone. She’d told me a few weeks ago that she was about to move into her new apartment in Dyker Heights.
“Eula! Are you out yet?”
“Not quite yet,” I laughed. “But I have my discharge date and it’s next week! Are you still cool with me coming to live with you?”
“Oh my god, yes!” she said. “It will be like Beacon, but with real beds and decent food!”
“And no brolic C.O.s bitching about forbidden hotplates,” I laughed then told her I couldn’t wait to get there.
“But listen, Eula,” she said, suddenly all serious, “This is a teeny apartment in a private house on a quiet street. Like, a house-with-a-driveway type house!”
I laughed- Dyker Heights sounded as far away to me as Washington Heights had sounded to Jake.
Simone continued, “It’s not glam and it’s very far away from the subway- you have to take a bus to the nearest stop. But we are close to the bus stop. And it’s really peaceful and the area is beautiful.”
“I’m down,” I said. And I meant it.
Next up I sent a quick email to June.
Subject: Almost Free!
Heyyyyyy June,
How’s it hanging? Anything shocking going on with your apprenticeship? Any hot electricians you can introduce me to once I’m home?
Speaking of that, I got my discharge date! I’m out in 5 days.
I’ll be catching a bus from the Greyhound station in Miami. I checked the bus schedule and they have busses leaving on the hour. I called and they said you could buy me a ticket using your credit card and I can pick it up at the ticket booth. All you need to do is make sure the ticket is under my full name, Eula Tessitore.
And if they make you leave a dorky security question, use this one:
Q. Who is the best person in the world?
A. June
Will call you once I get back and settled.
You’re the best!
Eula
Last up, I called my brother. We’d kept in touch during my three months in Boca and I just wanted to let him know that I was finally ready to come home.
“How are you getting back?” he asked.
“A friend of mine is sending me a bus ticket.”
“Aww Eula, you don’t need to take a bus! I would’ve gotten you a plane ticket to come home,” my brother said.
“I know,” I replied. “That’s the same thing that my friend who bought me the bus ticket said. But I don’t want to make it easy on myself. A bus ride back is kinda what I feel like I need.”
He said he understood and then told me he was going to reserve a town car to pick me up and get me to the bus station in one piece. It was over an hour from the recovery center to the Greyhound depot, which was located in a very sketchy neighborhood, so I was super grateful to him for that.
All plans were in place.
