{"product_id":"behold-the-dreamers-isbn-9780525509714","title":"Behold the Dreamers","description":"\u003cb\u003eA compulsively readable debut novel about marriage, immigration, class, race, and the trapdoors in the American Dream—the unforgettable story of a young Cameroonian couple making a new life in New York just as the Great Recession upends the economy\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestseller\u003c\/b\u003e • \u003cb\u003eWinner of the PEN\/Faulkner Award \u003c\/b\u003e• Longlisted for the PEN\/Open Book Award • An ALA Notable Book\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eNAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eNPR • \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review • San Francisco Chronicle • The Guardian • St. Louis Post-Dispatch \u003c\/i\u003e• Chicago Public Library • \u003ci\u003eBookPage • Refinery29 • Kirkus Reviews \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende Jonga, a Cameroonian immigrant living in Harlem, has come to the United States to provide a better life for himself, his wife, Neni, and their six-year-old son. In the fall of 2007, Jende can hardly believe his luck when he lands a job as a chauffeur for Clark Edwards, a senior executive at Lehman Brothers. Clark demands punctuality, discretion, and loyalty—and Jende is eager to please. Clark’s wife, Cindy, even offers Neni temporary work at the Edwardses’ summer home in the Hamptons. With these opportunities, Jende and Neni can at last gain a foothold in America and imagine a brighter future.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e However, the world of great power and privilege conceals troubling secrets, and soon Jende and Neni notice cracks in their employers’ façades.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When the financial world is rocked by the collapse of Lehman Brothers, the Jongas are desperate to keep Jende’s job—even as their marriage threatens to fall apart. As all four lives are dramatically upended, Jende and Neni are forced to make an impossible choice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“A debut novel by a young woman from Cameroon that illuminates the immigrant experience in America with the tenderhearted wisdom so lacking in our political discourse . . . Mbue is a bright and captivating storyteller.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A capacious, big-hearted novel.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Behold the Dreamers’\u003c\/i\u003e heart . . . belongs to the struggles and small triumphs of the Jongas, which Mbue traces in clean, quick-moving paragraphs.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue’s writing is warm and captivating.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePeople\u003c\/i\u003e (book of the week)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “[Mbue’s] book isn’t the first work of fiction to grapple with the global financial crisis of 2007–2008, but it’s surely one of the best. . . . It’s a novel that depicts a country both blessed and doomed, on top of the world, but always at risk of losing its balance. It is, in other words, quintessentially American.”\u003cb\u003e—NPR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “This story is one that needs to be told.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBust \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eBehold the\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eDreamers\u003c\/i\u003e challenges us all to consider what it takes to make us genuinely content, and how long is too long to live with our dreams deferred.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eO: The Oprah Magazine\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] beautiful, empathetic novel.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Boston Globe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A witty, compassionate, swiftly paced novel that takes on race, immigration, family and the dangers of capitalist excess.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSt. Louis Post-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue [is] a deft, often lyrical observer. . . . [Her] meticulous storytelling announces a writer in command of her gifts.”\u003cb\u003e—Minneapolis \u003ci\u003eStar Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“As a dissection of the American Dream, Imbolo Mbue’s first novel is savage and compassionate in all the right places.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A fresh, engaging entry into the eternally evolving narrative of what it means to be an American—and how human beings, not laws or dogma, define liberty.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Even as \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e takes some dark, vicious turns, it never feels cheaply cynical, grounded as it is in the well-imagined characters who try, through whatever means possible, to protect their families and better their lives.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “In Imbolo Mbue’s sprightly debut . . . songs of innocence and arrogance collide.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eVogue\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Imagine Lorraine Hansberry’s play\/film \u003ci\u003eA Raisin in the Sun\u003c\/i\u003e with a Cameroonian cast of characters in early twenty-first century New York City, and you may come up with something close to \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers,\u003c\/i\u003e a poignant and bittersweet debut.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSan Francisco Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e . . . just might be the most accessible novel I’ve ever read. . . . Mbue does an admirable job of developing characters whose lives seem so heartbreakingly real that the pages of this book often seem like something of a confinement. When you close the book, you will hear their pain. You might feel them calling for you.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Review of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eThe Help\u003c\/i\u003e meets \u003ci\u003eHouse of Cards\u003c\/i\u003e meets the read that’ll make you forget all about your morning commute.”\u003cb\u003e—theSkimm\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Undocumented immigration, the widening gulf between rich and poor, and the thinly veiled racism of an avowedly ‘post-racial’ culture converge in this new generation of immigrants’ painful encounter with the American Dream. . . . The prose grows luminous.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Christian Science Monitor\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue’s outsider’s perceptions of American life—its stresses, its excesses—are sharp. . . . She’s also shrewd on the disruptions that come with the Jongas leaving their native land for a dream that may be a delusion.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eSeattle Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “An utterly unique novel about immigration, race, and class—and an important one, as well.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A debut novel by a young woman from Cameroon that illuminates the immigrant experience in America with the tenderhearted wisdom so lacking in our political discourse.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue writes with great confidence and warmth. . . . There are a lot of spinning plates and Mbue balances them skillfully, keeping everything in motion. . . . \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e is a capacious, big-hearted novel.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue’s writing is warm and captivating.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePeople\u003c\/i\u003e (book of the week)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue is a wonderful writer with an uncanny ear for dialogue—there are no false notes here, no narrative shortcuts, and certainly no manufactured happy endings. It’s a novel that depicts a country both blessed and doomed, on top of the world, but always at risk of losing its balance. It is, in other words, quintessentially American.”\u003cb\u003e—NPR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mbue’s masterful debut about an immigrant family struggling to obtain the elusive American Dream in Harlem will have you feeling for each character from the moment you crack it open.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eIn Style\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “This story is one that needs to be told.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBust \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eBehold the\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eDreamers\u003c\/i\u003e challenges us all to consider what it takes to make us genuinely content, and how long is too long to live with our dreams deferred.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eO: The Oprah Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] beautiful, empathetic novel . . . Mbue’s narrative energy and sympathetic eye soon render . . . commonplace ingredients vivid, complex, and essential. . . . At once critical and hopeful, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e traces the political and economic systems that push individuals toward dishonesty, while also acknowledging the bad and affirming the good in their complicated personal choices.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Boston Globe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A witty, compassionate, swiftly paced novel that takes on race, immigration, family and the dangers of capitalist excess. In her debut novel, Mbue has crafted a compelling view of twenty-first-century America.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSt. Louis Post-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e reveals Mbue as a deft, often lyrical observer. . . . [Her] meticulous storytelling announces a writer in command of her gifts, plumbing the desires and disappointments of our emerging global culture.”\u003cb\u003e—Minneapolis \u003ci\u003eStar Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A revelation . . . Mbue has written a clever morality tale that never preaches but instead teaches us the power of integrity.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEssence\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “At once a sad indictment of the American dream and a gorgeous testament to the enduring bonds of family, Mbue’s powerful first novel will grip and move you right up to its heartfelt ending.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eShelf Awareness\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue proves herself a clear-eyed, unflinching storyteller, and \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e is a fearless, head-on journey into the thorny contemporary issues of American exceptionalism.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eInterview Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Gripping and beautifully told.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eGood Housekeeping\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eAt once an ode to New York City and an elegy for the American Dream, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e reads like a film, shuttling effortlessly between a Cameroonian chauffeur’s Harlem and an investment banker’s Upper East Side. . . . There are no heroes in this marvelous debut, only nuanced human beings. A classic tale with a surprise ending, as deeply insightful as it is entertaining.”\u003cb\u003e—Taiye Selasi, author of \u003ci\u003eGhana Must Go\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Mbue’s fantastic debut is much more than an immigrant story, a tale of the 2007 financial collapse, or the intersections of the rich and poor in New York—it’s about how the American Dream can fail anyone, and whether hope can survive. An empathetic, timely, and deeply welcome novel.”\u003cb\u003e—J. Ryan Stradal, author of \u003ci\u003eKitchens of the Great Midwest\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Eminently readable, deeply empathetic, and often humorous, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e offers the stark reality of the American Dream as we rarely see it in fiction. In its pages, Americans are made, fortunes are won and lost, and America’s flawed dream-makers and its striving dreamers clash and come alive. With forthright prose and unforgettable characters, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e is a subversive delight.”\u003cb\u003e—Shawna Yang Ryan, author of \u003ci\u003eGreen Island\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Imbolo Mbue would be a formidable storyteller anywhere, in any language. It’s our good luck that she and her stories are American.”\u003cb\u003e—Jonathan Franzen, National Book Award–winning author of \u003ci\u003ePurity \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eFreedom\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Dazzling, fast-paced, and exquisitely written, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e is one of those rare novels that will change the way you see the world. Imbolo Mbue is a breathtaking talent.”\u003cb\u003e—Christina Baker Kline, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eOrphan Train\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Who is this Imbolo Mbue and where has she been hiding? Her writing is startlingly beautiful, thoughtful, and both timely and timeless. She’s taking on everything from family to the Great Recession to immigration while deftly reminding us what it means to truly believe in ‘the American Dream.’”\u003cb\u003e—Jacqueline Woodson, National Book Award–winning author of \u003ci\u003eBrown Girl Dreaming\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eAnother Brooklyn\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “It’s rare that a book is so fascinating, so emotionally compelling, and so beautiful that I literally can’t put it down. I picked \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e up one evening before bed. I turned the last page at dawn. It ruined the next day for me—I wasn’t much good for anything but a nap—but it was worth every lost hour.”\u003cb\u003e—Ayelet Waldman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of\u003ci\u003e Love and Treasure\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A beautiful book about one African couple starting a new life in a new land, \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e will teach you as much about the promise and pitfalls of life in the United States as about the immigrants who come here in search of the so-called American dream.”\u003cb\u003e—Sonia Nazario, author of \u003ci\u003eEnrique’s Journey \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ewinner of the Pulitzer Prize\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Among the spate of novels forged in the crucible of the previous decade, Mbue’s impressive debut deserves a singular place. . . . Realistic, tragic, and still remarkably kind to all its characters, this is a special book.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Kirkus\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eReviews\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“A fast-paced, engaging read with an interesting cross-cultural background.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The Jongas are . . . vivid, and the book’s unexpected ending—and its sharp-eyed focus on issues of immigration, race, and class—speak to a sad truth in today’s cutthroat world: the American dream isn’t what it seems.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eImbolo Mbue \u003c\/b\u003eis a native of the seaside town of Limbe, Cameroon. She holds a BS from Rutgers University and an MA from Columbia University. A resident of the United States for more than a decade, she lives in New York City.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBehold the Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e, her critically acclaimed debut novel, won the 2017 PEN\/Faulkner Award for Fiction and was named by \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e as one of the notable books of 2016. It was also named as a best book of 2016 by NPR,\u003ci\u003e Kirkus Reviews, \u003c\/i\u003ethe \u003ci\u003eSan Francisco Chronicle, The Guardian\u003c\/i\u003e and the\u003ci\u003e St. Louis Post-Dispatch. \u003c\/i\u003eThe novel also won the 2017 Blue Metropolis Words to Change Prize.One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe’d never been asked to wear a suit to a job interview. Never been told to bring along a copy of his résumé. He hadn’t even owned a résumé until the previous week when he’d gone to the library on Thirty-­fourth and Madison and a volunteer career counselor had written one for him, detailed his work history to suggest he was a man of grand accomplishments: farmer responsible for tilling land and growing healthy crops; street cleaner responsible for making sure the town of Limbe looked beautiful and pristine; dishwasher in Manhattan restaurant, in charge of ensuring patrons ate from clean and germ-­free plates; livery cabdriver in the Bronx, responsible for taking passengers safely from place to place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe’d never had to worry about whether his experience would be appropriate, whether his English would be perfect, whether he would succeed in coming across as intelligent enough. But today, dressed in the green double-­breasted pinstripe suit he’d worn the day he entered America, his ability to impress a man he’d never met was all he could think about. Try as he might, he could do nothing but think about the questions he might be asked, the answers he would need to give, the way he would have to walk and talk and sit, the times he would need to speak or listen and nod, the things he would have to say or not say, the response he would need to give if asked about his legal status in the country. His throat went dry. His palms moistened. Unable to reach for his handkerchief in the packed downtown subway, he wiped both palms on his pants.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good morning, please,” he said to the security guard in the lobby when he arrived at Lehman Brothers. “My name is Jende Jonga. I am here for Mr. Edwards. Mr. Clark Edwards.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe guard, goateed and freckled, asked for his ID, which he quickly pulled out of his brown bifold wallet. The man took it, examined it front and back, looked up at his face, looked down at his suit, smiled, and asked if he was trying to become a stockbroker or something.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende shook his head. “No,” he replied without smiling back. “A chauffeur.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Right on,” the guard said as he handed him a visitor pass. “Good luck with that.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis time Jende smiled. “Thank you, my brother,” he said. “I really need all that good luck today.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlone in the elevator to the twenty-­eighth floor, he inspected his fingernails (no dirt, thankfully). He adjusted his clip-­on tie using the security mirror above his head; reexamined his teeth and found no visible remnants of the fried ripe plantains and beans he’d eaten for breakfast. He cleared his throat and wiped off whatever saliva had crusted on the sides of his lips. When the doors opened he straightened his shoulders and introduced himself to the receptionist, who, after responding with a nod and a display of extraordinarily white teeth, made a phone call and asked him to follow her. They walked through an open space where young men in blue shirts sat in cubicles with multiple screens, down a corridor, past another open space of cluttered cubicles and into a sunny office with a four-­paneled glass window running from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, the thousand autumn-­drenched trees and proud towers of Manhattan standing outside. For a second his mouth fell open, at the view outside—­the likes of which he’d never seen—­and the exquisiteness inside. There was a lounging section (black leather sofa, two black leather chairs, glass coffee table) to his right, an executive desk (oval, cherry, black leather reclining chair for the executive, two green leather armchairs for visitors) in the center, and a wall unit (cherry, glass doors, white folders in neat rows) to his left, in front of which Clark Edwards, in a dark suit, was standing and feeding sheets of paper into a pullout shredder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Please, sir, good morning,” Jende said, turning toward him and half-­bowing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Have a seat,” Clark said without lifting his eyes from the shredder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende hurried to the armchair on the left. He pulled a résumé from his folder and placed it in front of Clark’s seat, careful not to disturb the layers of white papers and Wall Street Journals strewn across the desk in a jumble. One of the Journal pages, peeking from beneath sheets of numbers and graphs, had the headline: whites’ great hope? barack obama and the dream of a color-­blind america. Jende leaned forward to read the story, fascinated as he was by the young ambitious senator, but immediately sat upright when he remembered where he was, why he was there, what was about to happen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Do you have any outstanding tickets you need to resolve?” Clark asked as he sat down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No, sir,” Jende replied.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And you haven’t been in any serious accidents, right?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No, Mr. Edwards.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClark picked up the résumé from his desk, wrinkled and moist like the man whose history it held. His eyes remained on it for several seconds while Jende’s darted back and forth, from the Central Park treetops far beyond the window to the office walls lined with abstract paintings and portraits of white men wearing bow ties. He could feel beads of sweat rising out of his forehead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, Jende,” Clark said, putting the résumé down and leaning back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende perked up. This was the question he and his wife, Neni, had discussed the previous night; the one they’d read about when they Googled “the one question they ask at every job interview.” They had spent an hour hunched over the cranky desktop, searching for the best answer, reading much-­too-­similar pieces of advice on the first ten sites Google delivered, before deciding it would be best if Jende spoke of his strong character and dependability, and of how he had everything a busy executive like Mr. Edwards needed in a chauffeur. Neni had suggested he also highlight his wonderful sense of humor, perhaps with a joke. After all, she had said, which Wall Street executive, after spending hours racking his brain on how to make more money, wouldn’t appreciate entering his car to find his chauffeur ready with a good joke? Jende had agreed and prepared an answer, a brief monologue which concluded with a joke about a cow at a supermarket. That should work very well, Neni had said. And he had believed so, too. But when he began to speak, he forgot his prepared answer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Okay, sir,” he said instead. “I live in Harlem with my wife and with my six-­years-­old son. And I am from Cameroon, in Central Africa, or West Africa. Depends on who you ask, sir. I am from a little town on the Atlantic Ocean called Limbe.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I see.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thank you, Mr. Edwards,” he said, his voice quivering, unsure of what he was thankful for.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And what kind of papers do you have in this country?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I have papers, sir,” he blurted out, leaning forward and nodding repeatedly, goose bumps shooting up all over his body like black balls out of a cannon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I said what kind of papers?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, I am sorry, sir. I have EAD. EAD, sir . . . that is what I have right now.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What’s that supposed—­” The BlackBerry on the desk buzzed. Clark quickly picked it up. “What does that mean?” he asked, looking down at the phone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It means Employment Authorization Document, sir,” Jende replied, shifting in his seat. Clark neither responded nor gestured. He kept his head down, his eyes on the smartphone, his soft-­looking fingers jumping all over the keypad, lithely and speedily—­up, left, right, down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It is a work permit, sir,” Jende added. He looked at Clark’s fingers, then his forehead, and his fingers again, uncertain of how else to obey the rules of eye contact when eyes were not available for contact. “It means I am allowed to work, sir. Until I get my green card.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClark half-­nodded and continued typing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende looked out the window, hoping he wasn’t sweating too profusely.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And how long will it take for you to get this green card?” Clark asked as he put down the BlackBerry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I just really don’t know, sir. Immigration is slow, sir; very funny how they work.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“But you’re in the country legally for the long term, correct?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, yes, sir,” Jende said. He nodded repeatedly again, a pained smile on his face, his eyes unblinking. “I am very legal, sir. I just am still waiting for my green card.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor a long second Clark stared at Jende, his vacant green eyes giving no clue to his thoughts. Hot sweat was flowing down Jende’s back, soaking the white shirt Neni had bought for him from a street vendor on 125th Street. The desk phone rang.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Very well, then,” Clark said, picking up the phone. “As long as you’re legal.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJende Jonga exhaled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe terror that had gripped his chest when Clark Edwards mentioned the word “papers” slowly loosened. He closed his eyes and offered thanks to a merciful Being, grateful half the truth had been sufficient. What would he have said if Mr. Edwards had asked more questions? How would he have explained that his work permit and driver’s license were valid only for as long as his asylum application was pending or approved, and that if his application were to be denied, all his documents would become invalid and there would be no green card? How could he have possibly explained his asylum application? Would there have been a way to convince Mr. Edwards that he was an honest man, a very honest man, actually, but one who was now telling a thousand tales to Immigration just so he could one day become an American citizen and live in this great nation forever?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And you’ve been here for how long?” Clark asked after putting down the receiver.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Three years, sir. I came in 2004, in the month—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe paused, startled by Clark’s thunderous sneeze.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“May God bless you, sir,” he said as the executive placed his wrist under his nose and let loose another sneeze, louder than the first. “Ashia, sir,” he added. “May God bless you again.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClark leaned forward and picked up a bottle of water on the right side of his desk. Behind him, far beyond the spotless glass window, a red helicopter flew above the park, going from west to east under the cloudless morning sky. Jende returned his gaze to Clark and watched as he took a few sips from the bottle. He yearned for a sip of water, too, to erase the dryness in his throat, but dared not change the trajectory of the interview by asking for some. No, he couldn’t dare. Certainly not right now. His throat could be the driest spot in the Kalahari and it wouldn’t matter right now—­he was doing well. Okay, maybe not too well. But he wasn’t doing too badly, either.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“All right,” Clark said, putting down the bottle. “Let me tell you what I want in a driver.” Jende swallowed and nodded. “I demand loyalty. I demand dependability. I demand punctuality, and I demand that you do as I say and ask no questions. Works for you?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes, sir, of course, Mr. Edwards.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re going to sign a confidentiality agreement that you’ll never say anything about what you hear me say or see me do. Never. To anyone. Absolutely no one. Do you understand?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I understand you very clearly, sir.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good. I’ll treat you right, but you must treat me right first. I’ll be your main priority, and when I don’t need you, you’ll take care of my family. I’m a busy man, so don’t expect me to supervise you. You’ve come to me very highly recommended.”","brand":"Random House Trade Paperbacks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300218949861,"sku":"NP9780525509714","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525509714.jpg?v=1767722388","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/behold-the-dreamers-isbn-9780525509714","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}