I chose to do the book My Antonia. Antonia and her family start from a modern-day third world, Bohemia, and travel to contemporary New York City, NY. Having only the Bohemian language and Antonia's only English, "We go New York City," the family embarks on their journey for America. Now instead of Nebraska, they settle in NYC. Family names have been changed except for Marek, her brother, who cannot speak and has webbed hands, and Antonia. The last name in the book is Shimerda. I used it backwards, Adremish.
I would like to know what others think of my twist on My Antonia. Does it open itself up for a new book if I change the names? Does it meet the November challenge guidelines?
We saved every penny my family could muster in an old tin can. We travelled by jeep with a reckless driver, milking us for our precious old tin can with the only money we had saved. We arrived at the small two-plane airport a couple hours from Bohemia, sticky and dirty from the humid air and the flying dirt from our long journey. We were on the ship for two weeks, with only occasional motion sickness. The conditions were fair, the food better than we had ever eaten in our little Bohemian town, and we were satisfied, but we were elated when the boat docked in America. We were in New York City our new home. A new excitement filled the air. The smell of different kinds of food and cigarette smoke surrounded us, a new life begins.
A family friend who left Bohemia years before greeted us at the dock in our native tongue, capturing strange looks from passersby. The first we had heard, besides amongst ourselves, since we had left Bohemia and piled on the boat to this new and unknown place. There were people everywhere, of every color, race, and religion. More people than even existed in all of Bohemia. Some gave us a side glance as we spoke our native tongue amongst each other. Others walked past as if we didn't exist. No one smiled our direction or gave a friendly nod, they hustled bustled around frantically.
Our friend took us to our new home in an apt above a restaurant. It was dirty with big, black cockroaches lurking in every tiny crevice, the dirt an inch deep on the floors and the smell of week old fried fish lingered in the air. My stomach and heart dropped to the floor. We came here for this? My father exiled the friend from our unexpected disappointment that would now be home. We had no choice he had taken all of our hard earned tin can money. He bought himself cigarettes, a nice meal, and put a minimum down payment on a dirty piece of junk and took the rest for his own comforts and unnecessary pleasures.
We spent the next couple of days cleaning. Luckily the landlord, who also owned and ran the restaurant below was a kind man and loaned us a broom, mop and vacuum, some other cleaning supplies and soaps to clean up the dump he had rented to us. He hired an exterminator to kill the huge cockroaches that had made this place home for who knows how long, before we interrupted their dirty way of living.
When we were finished cleaning and shining our new home, it was quite cozy and livable. Dad was hired by our kind landlord to work in the restaurant downstairs. It was a greasy, smelly job washing the hundreds of dishes that came through each day, but Dad was happy to have it and to support the family with a better income than he had ever seen. It was not considered good for wages for America. Dad worked for room and board and was able to buy good food and the necessary clothing¸ for the New York climate. The climate here is fifty to sixty degrees cooler than Bohemia this time of year.
My brothers, sister and I were in awe of the beautifully colored leaves that lined the parks and the floated from the trees covered in a frosty white. White flakes of crystals all unique in shape, size, and number of icy points, occasionally drifted slowly to the earth, leaving a blanket of white.
Read other responses to the November 2010 writing prompt or submit your own response.
