Brooklyn

by Colm Toibin

  By the time the waiter brought her jelly and custard, there was no one else in the dining room. She thought that Georgina, since there was no other restaurant in third class, must have slipped into first or second but she did not think it could be easily done. There was nothing for her to do, in any case, since there was no third-class lounge or bar, but to go back to her cabin and settle down for the night. She was tired and she hoped now that she might sleep.

  In the cabin, when she went to brush her teeth and wash her face before going to bed, she discovered that the people on the other side had locked the door; she believed that they must be using the bathroom and stood waiting for them to finish and then unlock the door. She listened but heard no sound, except the engine, which she thought loud enough to muffle any bathroom noise. After a while she went into the corridor and spent time outside the door of the adjoining room but could hear nothing. She wondered if the people in there had gone to sleep and waited in the corridor hoping that Georgina would come. Georgina, she thought, would know what to do, as would Rose or her mother, or indeed Miss Kelly, whose face came into her mind for one brief moment. But she had no idea what to do.

  When some time had gone by, she knocked gently on the door and, on receiving no reply, banged harder with her knuckles in case they could not hear her. Still there was no reply. Since the liner was full, and since there was no one in the dining room, which was by now surely closed, she presumed that all the passengers were in their cabins; some of them could even have been asleep. In her agitation and worry, she suddenly realized that not only did she need to brush her teeth and wash her face, but she needed to empty her bladder and her bowels as well, and do so quickly, almost urgently. She went into her own cabin again and tried the door of the bathroom, but it was still locked.

  She went back into the corridor and made her way towards the dining room, her need more and more urgent, but she could find no bathroom. She went up the two flights of stairs towards the deck but found that the door had been locked. She walked down a number of corridors, checking at the end of each one for a bathroom or a toilet, but there was nothing except the sound of the engines and the beginning of a movement as the liner lunged forward, which made it necessary for her to hold the rails carefully as she went back down the stairs so she could keep her balance.

  She was desperate now and did not think she could manage much longer without finding a toilet. She had noticed earlier that towards each end of her own corridor there was a small alcove where a bucket and some mops and brushes were kept. She realized that since she had met no one, then, if she were lucky, no one would see her now as she went to the alcove on the right. She was glad when she saw that there was already some water in the bottom of the bucket. She moved fast, trying to relieve herself as quickly as she could, keeping inside the alcove so that even if someone came along the corridor they might not spot her unless they had to pass. She used the soft mop to wipe herself when she had finished and then tiptoed back to the cabin, hoping that Georgina would come and know how to wake their neighbours to make them unlock the bathroom door. She would not, it struck her, be able to complain about this to the ship’s authorities in case they associated her with what they would, she was sure, discover in the bucket the following morning.

  She went into her berth and changed into her nightdress and turned off the light before climbing up to the top bunk. Soon she fell asleep. She did not know for how long she slept, but when she woke, she found herself covered in sweat. It soon became clear to her what was wrong. She was going to vomit. In the darkness she almost tumbled from the bunk and could not stop herself throwing up parts of her evening meal as she tried to keep her balance while searching for the cabin light.

  As she found it, she moved past Georgina’s trunk towards the door, and as soon as she reached the corridor she began to vomit copiously. She got down on her knees; it was the only way she could manage since the ship was swaying so much. She realized that she should try to vomit everything up as quickly as possible before she was discovered by one of her fellow passengers, or by the ship’s authorities, but each time she stood up thinking she had finished, the nausea returned. As she began to return to the cabin, longing to cover herself with blankets on the top bunk, hoping that no one would realize that she was the one who had made the mess in the corridor, the urge to be sick became even more intense than before, forcing her to get down on her hands and knees and vomit a thick liquid with a vile taste that made her shudder with revulsion when she lifted her head.

  The ship’s movements took on a harsh rhythm, and replaced the sense of lunging forward and then being pushed back she had felt when she woke first. They seemed to be making progress only with great difficulty, almost banging against something hard and forceful that attempted to withstand their progress. A noise, as though the massive liner were creaking, appeared louder sometimes than the engine itself. But, once back in the cabin, when she leaned against the door of the bathroom, she heard another sound, faint until she put her ear right up against the door, and then unmistakable, of someone retching. She listened: it was a heaving sound. She banged on the door, angry when she understood why it had remained locked. The people on the other side must have known how rough the night was going to be and known they would need to use the bathroom all the time. The retching came at intervals from the other side, and there was no sign that the door into her berth was going to be opened.

  She felt strong enough to look at where she had vomited in the cabin. Having put on her shoes and a coat over her nightdress, she went into the corridor and walked to the alcove on the left, where she found a mop and a brush and a bucket. She was careful where she stepped and careful also not to lose her balance. She wondered now if many of the third-class passengers had known what this night was going to be like and had therefore kept away from the dining room and the deck and the corridors, had decided to lock themselves in their cabins, where they were going to stay until the worst was over. She did not know if this often happened when a liner sailed out of Liverpool destined for New York, but, remembering that Georgina had said that it was going to be one of those nights, she presumed that it was worse than usual. They were now, she imagined, close to the coast somewhere south of Ireland, but she could not be sure of that.

  She carried a mop and brush back to the cabin, hoping that the smell could be got rid of by pouring some of the perfume that Rose had given her on the parts of the floor and the blankets where she had vomited. But the mopping appeared only to make things worse and the brush was no use. She decided to bring them back to where she had found them. Suddenly, as she left them in the alcove, she felt nauseous again and could not stop herself vomiting in the corridor once more. There was hardly anything to vomit, just a sour bile that left a taste in her mouth that made her cry as she banged on the door of the cabin beside hers and kicked it hard. But no one opened the door as the liner shuddered and seemed to lunge forward, and then shuddered again.

  She had no idea how far under the sea she was except that her cabin was deep in the belly of the ship. As her stomach began dry heaves, she realized that she would never be able to tell anyone how sick she felt. She pictured her mother standing at the door waving as the car took her and Rose to the railway station, the expression on her mother’s face strained and worried, managing a final smile when the car turned down Friary Hill. What was happening now, she hoped, was something that her mother had never even imagined. If it had been somehow easier, just rocking back and forth, then she might have been able to convince herself that it was a dream, or it would not last, but every moment of it was absolutely real, totally solid and part of her waking life, as was the foul taste in her mouth and the grinding of the engines and the heat that seemed to be increasing as the night wore on. And with all this came the feeling that she had done something wrong, that it was somehow her fault that Georgina had gone elsewhere and that her neighbours had locked the bathroom door, and her fault that she had vomited all over the cabin and had not su
cceeded in cleaning up the mess.

  She was breathing now through her nose, concentrating, making every effort to stop her stomach heaving again, using all of the force of will she had left to climb the ladder to the top bunk and lie there in the dark, imagining that the boat was moving forward, even though the shuddering sound became fiercer as the liner seemed to hit a wave stronger than it was. She imagined for a while that she herself was the sea outside, pushing hard to resist the weight and force of the liner. She fell into a light, dreamless sleep.

  She was woken by a soft hand on her forehead. She knew exactly where she was when she opened her eyes.

  “Oh, the poor little pet,” Georgina said.

  “They wouldn’t open the bathroom door,” Eilis said. She made her voice sound as weak as she could.

  “The bastards!” Georgina said. “They do that every time, some of them, whoever gets in first locks the door. Watch me dealing with them.”

  Eilis sat up and slowly made her way down the ladder. The smell of vomit was dreadful. Georgina had taken a nail file from her handbag and was already busy working at the lock on the bathroom door. She opened it without too much difficulty. Eilis followed her into the bathroom, where the passengers in the other berth had left their toilet things.

  “Now, we have to block their door because tonight is going to be even worse,” Georgina said.

  Eilis saw that the lock was a simple metal bar that could easily be lifted by a nail file.

  “There’s only one solution,” Georgina said. “If I put my trunk in here, we won’t be able to close the door, we’ll have to sit sideways on the toilet, but they won’t have a chance of getting in. You poor pet.”

  She looked at Eilis again with sympathy. She was wearing make-up and seemed untouched by the ravages of the night.

  “What did you have for dinner?” Georgina asked as she set about moving the trunk into the bathroom.

  “I think it was mutton.”

  “And peas, plenty of peas. And how do you feel?”

  “I have never felt worse. Did I leave a big mess in the corridor?”

  “Yes, but the whole ship’s a mess. Even first class is a mess. They’ll start the cleaning there and it’ll be hours before they make it down here. Why did you eat such a big dinner?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Did you not hear them saying it when we were coming on board? It’s the worst storm in years. It’s always bad, especially down here, but this one is terrible. Just drink water, nothing else, no solids. It’ll do wonders for your figure.”

  “I’m sorry about the smell.”

  “They’ll come and clean it all up. We’ll move the trunk again when we hear them coming and we’ll put it back when they go. I got spotted in first class and I’ve been warned to stay down here until we dock or I’ll be arrested at the other side. So I’m afraid you’ve got company. And, darling, when I vomit, you’ll know all about it. And that’s all’s going to happen for the next day or so, vomiting, plenty of it. And then I’m told we’ll be in calm waters.”

  “I feel terrible,” Eilis said.

  “It’s called seasickness, duck, and it turns you green.”

  “Do I look terrible?”

  “Oh, yes, and so does every person on this boat.”

  As she spoke, a loud knocking came from the other cabin. Georgina went into the bathroom.

  “Fuck off!” she shouted. “Can you hear me? Good! Now, fuck off!”

  Eilis stood behind her in her nightdress and her bare feet. She was laughing.

  “I need to go to the toilet now,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Later in the day they came with buckets of water filled with disinfectant and they washed the floors of the corridors and the rooms. They took away the sheets and blankets that had been soiled and brought new ones and fresh towels. Georgina, who had been watching out for them, pushed the trunk back to its place inside the door. When the neighbours, two elderly American ladies, whom Eilis now saw for the first time, complained to the cleaners that the bathroom had been locked, the cleaners shrugged and carried on working. The second they had gone, Georgina and Eilis edged the trunk back into the bathroom before their neighbours got a chance to block the door from the other side. When they banged on both the bathroom door and the door of the cabin, Eilis and Georgina laughed.

  “They missed their chance. That will teach them now!” Georgina said.

  She went to the dining room and came back with two jugs of water.

  “They have only one waiter,” she said, “so you can take what you like. This is your ration for tonight. Eat nothing and drink plenty, that’s the key. It won’t stop you being sick, but it won’t be as bad.”

  “It feels as if the boat is being pushed back all the time,” Eilis said.

  “From down here it always feels like that,” Georgina replied. “But stay still and save your breath and vomit to your heart’s content when you feel like it and you’ll be a new woman tomorrow.”

  “You sound like you have been on this boat thousands of times.”

  “I have,” Georgina said. “I go home once a year to see my mam. It’s a lot of suffering for a week. By the time I’ve recovered I have to go back. But I love seeing them all. We’re not getting any younger, any of us, so it’s nice to spend a week together.”

  After another night of constant retching, Eilis was exhausted; the liner seemed to hammer against the water. But then the sea became calm. Georgina, who moved regularly up and down the corridor, met the couple in the adjoining cabin and made an agreement with them that neither side would prevent the other from using the bathroom, but they would instead attempt to share it in a spirit of harmony now that the storms were over. She moved her trunk out of the bathroom and warned Eilis, who admitted to being hungry, not to eat anything at all, no matter how hungry she was, but to drink plenty of water and try not to fall asleep during the day, despite the overwhelming temptation to do so. If she could sleep a full night, Georgina said, she would feel much better.

  Eilis could not believe she had four more nights to spend in this cramped space, with stale air and weak light. It was only when she went into the bathroom to wash herself that she found moments of relief from the vague nausea mixed with terrible hunger that stayed with her and the claustrophobia that seemed to become more intense whenever Georgina left her in the cabin.

  Since they had only a bath in her mother’s house, she had never had a shower before, and it took her a while to work out how to get the water at the right temperature without turning it off altogether. As she soaped herself and put shampoo on her wet hair, she wondered if this could be heated sea water and, if not, then how the ship managed to carry so much fresh water. In tanks, maybe, she thought, or perhaps it was rainwater. Whatever it was, standing under it brought her ease for the first time since the ship had left Liverpool.

  On the night before they were due to dock, she went to the dining room with Georgina, who told her that she looked wretched and that if she did not take care she would be stopped at Ellis Island and put in quarantine, or at least given a thorough medical examination. Back in the cabin, Eilis showed Georgina her passport and papers to prove to her that she would not have a problem entering the United States. She told her that she would be met by Father Flood. Georgina was surprised, she said, that Eilis had a full, rather than a temporary, work permit. She did not think it was easy to get such a document any more, even with the help of a priest. She made Eilis open her suitcase and show her what clothes she had brought so that she could select suitable attire for her when she was disem-barking and make sure that nothing she wore was too wrinkled.

  “Nothing fancy,” she said. “We don’t want you looking like a tart.”

  She chose a white dress with a red floral pattern that Rose had given Eilis and a plain cardigan and a plain-coloured scarf. She looked at the three pairs of shoes that Eilis had packed and selected the plainest, insisting that the shoes would have to be polished.r />
  “And wear your coat over your arm and look as though you know where you’re going and don’t wash your hair again, the water on this boat has made it stand out like a ball of steel wool. You’ll need to spend a few hours brushing it to get it into any shape at all.”

  In the morning, between arranging to have her trunk carried on deck, Georgina began to put make-up on, getting Eilis to comb her hair out even straighter now that the brushing was done so that it could be tied back into a bun.

  “Don’t look too innocent,” she said. “When I put some eye-liner on you and some rouge and mascara, they’ll be afraid to stop you. Your suitcase is all wrong, but there’s nothing we can do about that.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s too Irish and they stop the Irish.”

  “Really?”

  “Try not to look so frightened.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “We’re all hungry. But, darling, you don’t need to look hungry. Pretend you are full.”

  “And I almost never wear make-up at home.”

  “Well, you’re about to enter the land of the free and the brave. And I don’t know how you got that stamp on your passport. The priest must know someone. The only thing they can stop you for is if they think you have TB, so don’t cough whatever you do, or if they think you have some funny eye disease, I can’t remember the name of it. So keep your eyes open. Sometimes, they don’t stop you at all, except to look at your papers.”