“Mommy,” Lina cries as she sees me, and she and Yasmine fly into my arms.

Turns out Hector thought they were the children of someone else who he had a grudge against. He wasn’t going to do anything to them, just wanted to scare their parents. When he found out they weren’t who he thought, he panicked.

“I ain’t no pervert,” he announces on what turns out to be international television. “I took them by mistake and then I brought them back, no harm done. They have lovely manners.”

Not very impressive in the brains department; he is held on kidnapping charges.

Our family scene that night is very loving and happy. My lazybones husband says he will look for work, and even if it means that he is the one who has to clean drippy-skin asses, he doesn’t mind because his children need their mother.

The next day I stay home with my four little children who squirm around me like worms while my husband gets up at 6:00 a.m. to start his hunt. I have my doubts, but three days into this routine he comes back at noon with a smile like the Jordan River on his face and says that 7-Eleven down the block has hired him for the night shift. More than minimum wage, no heavy lifting involved, no bus transfers. We’re set.

I go back to the convalescent home and learn that Mrs. Julienne’s son is a health inspector so her threats have scare in them. I thank her for her kindness.

“I’ve been saving that threat for the perfect occasion. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to use it,” she tells me, holding my hand.

Helga tells me that my job is there if I want it and even if I want it six months from now. “We saw you on the news,” a few of the nurses tell me. “Congratulations that your children are back safely.”

This is how we kicked the American nightmare out of our lives and bit off a little of the American dream.

This one’s a happy-ending story, for a change. I remember when it happened, and I remember how Ma held my hand extra tight when we went to the mall, or other public places. But just like everything, after a while, the kick in the story goes far enough away that you go back to your normal life.

16 KHADIJA Social Studies

16KHADIJASocial Studies

Finally I have something to write in my diary.

I have a new friend. Her name is Patricia, but she likes to be called Patsy.

I told Ma about her and she keeps saying, “Batzy, Batzy.”