By the time the boat reached Ellis Island, I had already forgotten where it began. I spent the journey sewing myself new underwear, to impress the doctors during my medical inspection. As we passed, the Statue of Liberty winked at me.
When we pulled up to the mainland, people waved. I waved back. After two days, I had learned fluent English, and no longer needed to rely so heavily on waving.
Soon, it was time to find a job. I cleared my throat, and was immediately hired. I was paid minimum wage working long hours in a factory, but my savings grew quickly because all I ever bought was bread and books.
I bought the books one page at a time. Soon, I had many pages. In a year, I had two books. I read them both, twice.
My education complete, it was time for a better job and a better wife. I found both at the bookstore. I married an aspiring librarian, and worked for ten years giving people unexplained discounts. Then, I bought the bookstore.
Three of my children went to college, five became CEOs. The sixth inherited the store – the others were always jealous. None of them had accents, none of them had allergies. Their spouses were orphans, so they spent every holiday with us.
Eventually, I decided I was ready to go. My hospital room was so crowded that they hired a bouncer. I died before my wife did; she never remarried.