It's Just Lola

by Dixiane Hallaj

  “I’m a sailor. I know sailors miss two things when they’re at sea: women and drink. I don’t want to shock you, but sailors know where to find both of these things in any port in the world. You’re a real lady and know nothing of the underside of the world, but if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

  “Yes. I really want to know.” She’d never tell him that she knew more of the underside of the world than he thought.

  “Every port, and probably every city, has houses where women take money to…”

  “I know what a bordello is.”

  “Good—I- mean I’m glad I don’t have to explain.”

  “Go on,” said Lola.

  “Some of these houses are clean; some are dirty; some cater to men with strange tastes. I went to the docks, bought a few drinks, laughed in the right places, and soon I knew where to go. It was a terrible place, and I won’t describe it. You don’t need to know. I told the madam—never mind what I told her. You don’t need to know that either. She said I could have this one, but if I was taking her out of the house I’d have to pay more. She said she had a lot of money invested in her. She told me how much she paid the father.” When he saw Lola’s shocked expression, he added, “Don’t worry, I bargained for her. After all, she was already damaged.”

  “You bought her? Like a mule or a horse? Did you check her teeth? That’s what they do with horses to tell their age.”

  “No, I didn’t have to. She told me she was thirteen.”

  Lola stamped her feet in frustration. “Wulf, this is the twentieth century. People don’t buy and sell other people. How could you think I wanted you to buy me a laundress?”

  “I didn’t buy her. You can say I posted bail for her. If you agree she can stay, she’ll skip bail. If not, I’ll take her back and get the money back, or most of it anyway.”

  Lola paced back and forth, unable to sit still. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in this day and age.” She whirled to face Wulf again, as a phrase he said came back to her. “Her father? The woman said she paid the girl’s father for her?” Wulf nodded. Lola plopped down in the nearest chair, digesting the enormity of that thought.

  “Lola, some people will do anything to get money for the next drink. Other people might sacrifice one member of the family to get money to feed the other members of the family. We don’t know the rest of that story. All we know is that it wasn’t the girl’s choice.”

  “So she just came with you, thinking you were going to do unspeakable things to her?”

  “No, she doesn’t think I’m going to do unspeakable things to her. I told her what I really wanted from her. I said if she didn’t want to wash dirty underwear and clean up poop and vomit I’d take her back. I told her you wouldn’t beat her very often.” He grinned at Lola’s expression. “I wanted it to sound bad so she’d know the worst.” He shrugged. “She said it was better than where she was.”

  “I suppose I’d better go and meet our new laundress. I don’t know what we’ll do if we don’t like her. We can’t possibly send her back.”

  “You’ll have to make her into something you do like. I’m sure she’ll be a willing student. You can train her. Look what you’ve done with Pedro and the other kids. Even the bosun and the guys don’t swear in the house any more. You can teach anyone to act right.”

  Lola smiled at his confidence in her. He could always melt her anger. She soon had a tub of hot water drawn and was telling the girl to take off “that horrid red dress” and get clean. The girl winced as she awkwardly undressed. Lola gasped when she saw why—a festering wound on her shoulder in the unmistakable shape of a human bite. Bruises covered her body.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Lola whispered. “How could anyone do such a thing?”

  “It was my punishment, Señora.”

  “Punishment for what?”

  “For not being agreeable.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I bit a man. As punishment she sent me a man who likes to hurt women. He pays a lot when she gives him a woman. She told him I liked to bite so he bit me.” The girl stopped talking.

  Lola took the soap and began to lather the girl’s hair. She wanted to make sure there were no lice or fleas before she let her around the children. After she was satisfied that the hair was clean, she handed the girl the soap and told her to scrub the rest of her body while she brought something for her to wear. The girl was soon dressed in one of Lola's nightdresses. She handed her a comb and told her not to leave the room.

  She found Maggie and Wulf both in the kitchen. They looked at Lola expectantly. “Wulf, make a place for her to sleep in the parlor. She’s burning up with fever and I don’t want her near the children. Bring whiskey or whatever spirits we have. Maggie, find some clean rags for bandages and iodine if we still have any.” Before Wulf could open his mouth to answer, Lola had left the room.

  Once things were arranged to Lola’s satisfaction, she had Wulf hold the girl as she lanced and cleaned the infected bite. Lacking the disinfectants the doctor had used, she fell back on alcohol. If aguadiente had kept Juan’s wound clean, whiskey should work for this one. The girl was remarkably stoic during the procedure. She only cried out once.

  “You’ve done this before,” said Wulf as Lola cleaned her hands in bleach and made him do the same. It was a statement and Lola felt no need to reply.

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bathe and so are you. Make sure you take every stitch you’re wearing and put it in a separate ditty bag until we see what happens to her. It’s possible the fever is just from the infection on her shoulder. You said the place you found her was dirty; she could have some other fever.” She watched Wulf’s face turn pale when he heard her words.

  “Oh God, what if I brought disease into our house? What if you or Nellie or the others get sick? Nellie’s so tiny.”

  Lola wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. She wanted to scream at him that he should have thought of that before wandering off into the depths of the slums to bring home a piece of human refuse. She looked at his stricken face and, as usual, her heart melted. She could never stay mad at him. He meant well. He thought he was doing something wonderful—and it might even turn out that way. He thought of himself as a knight in shining armor rescuing two women with one stroke. She had to admit that his open-handed generosity was one of the things she loved about him.

  “Don’t worry, Herman. I think the fever is just from the infection, but I need to isolate her until we find out for sure. I’m probably being overly cautious.”

  “And if we all die of the plague, it won’t help that I meant well.”

  “Don’t be so morbid. You’re a hero. You rescued that girl from certain death. If the infection didn’t kill her, the next man would have beaten her to death. Now help me disinfect the tub and fill it with hot water again.”

  That night Lola dozed fitfully. At least twice during the night she felt Wulf place his cheek next to hers and murmur thanks that she didn’t feel hot. Once when Nellie woke up to be fed he jerked upright in bed, his eyes wide with fright asking if the baby was all right. Later Wulf woke her, kicking and threshing wildly. When she woke him, he said he’d been running to get a doctor, but he was tangled in the curtains and couldn’t show the doctor where to go. The next morning they were both exhausted when they got up. They went downstairs and were met by an equally tired Maggie.

  “She’s better,” Maggie said. “Her fever started going down about midnight, but she wouldn’t let me leave.”

  “Is she truly better?” asked Wulf hopefully.

  “Her shoulder’s still hot and swollen, but her fever’s down.”

  Lola reached for Wulf as her knees grew weak with relief. He grabbed her around the waist and twirled her around the room and out into the courtyard, laughing hysterically.

  “I swear,” he said when he could speak once more, “if anything ever happens to you I’ll kill myself.”

  Lola put her finger on his li
ps. “Don’t say that. The sea provides you with the means to keep us fed and clothed. All I ask is that you always come back to us, and I promise I’ll always be waiting for you.”

  “Look alive in there and open the door.” The booming voice of the bosun called, and with a glad cry Maggie ran to throw the door open. He greeted his wife with the exuberance Lola had come to associate with all the members of the household.

  “Congratulations.” He grinned at Wulf and Lola. “I can tell by your faces that you have a new baby that keeps you up all night,” he laughed at his own humor. He slapped Wulf on the back hard enough to make him take a step to keep his balance.

  “Boyo, am I glad to see your wife up and healthy. Now you can get back to the ship. The new man the captain hired to take your place while you paced the floor with Lola and baby is a…” he stopped short and glanced at Lola, “…a dog born of a dog.” Wulf laughed and Lola smiled at the euphemism.

  The next morning Wulf woke her early, saying he was going to see the captain about rejoining the ship. Lola was pleased. She’d watched the money dwindle during the time he insisted on staying with her, waiting for the baby. She was torn between enjoying his company and worrying about lack of income.

  The two men returned in the afternoon laughing uproariously and carrying a jug of wine and a couple of bottles of rum and whiskey. “Come celebrate our new berth,” they yelled from the courtyard. “Everybody come and have a drink.”

  “You already celebrated the new birth. She’s three weeks old.” To Lola’s consternation, the two men roared with laughter at her words.

  “Seamus Tomas O’Neill, what have you done?” said Maggie with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

  Lola was almost surprised that the bosun had a name. She’d never heard anyone call him anything but the bosun. Her next thought was that she’d missed something vital in the conversation. This was more serious than having too much to drink too early in the day. Maggie was always up for a party and usually held her own in the drink department.

  “Now look what we’ve done. We’ve gone and worried the ladies,” the bosun said to Wulf. Then he turned to Maggie and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “Cheer up, woman. We’ve been doing that Chile run too long anyway. It’s time to move on. No man joins the merchant marines so he can walk along the shore like a crab. It’s time we went back to sea.” He puffed out his chest and struck a comic pose. “You’re looking at the new bosun’s mate and third officer of the SS Derrinshire of the United States Merchant Marines. No more coast crawling and hiding under rocks.” He put his arm around Maggie. “Can you believe it? They’d lost a couple of men in the last port and took us on right away.”

  “The United States?” said Lola. “But they’re in the war now—you won’t be on a neutral vessel anymore.”

  “That never made much difference,” said Wulf. “The Germans sink anything in their paths without surfacing to see which flag is flying on the mast, and the British aren’t much better.”

  “But you were safe in your old ship,” she said. She had long since stopped searching the papers for news of sunken or damaged ships.

  “No one’s ever safe,” said Wulf. “Not even crossing the street in Lima, what with all those automobiles racing up and down the streets.” He put his arm around her waist and gave her a playful squeeze. “Anyway, I didn’t have a choice. The captain said that he didn’t need a navigator for coast crawling, and he liked the way the ship ran with the new man. Then the bosun told him to replace him as well. We’ve been shipping out together for so long we can’t quit now.” Wulf grinned at her. “He’s right, you know. Deep ocean pays a lot more than coast crawling—especially now.”

  Lola felt a cold knot of fear in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not safe.” She couldn’t move beyond the idea of Wulf deliberately putting himself in harm’s way.

  He looked at her seriously. “Speaking of not safe, how is the girl? At least when I’m on the ship I’m not putting the whole family and all our best friends at risk.”

  “Her name’s Katie, and she’s feverish again,” answered Maggie.

  “Katie?” asked Lola. That didn’t sound Spanish.

  “It’s really Catalina, but I kept thinking of the island so I decided to call her Katie.”

  “I’d better go check on her shoulder. Maybe it’s collecting more infection.” Lola went off to clean Katie’s wound and change the dressing. It was easier to worry about Katie now than to face Wulf. The two men had already made their decision and the deed was done. It was best for her to be alone while she sorted it out in her mind.

  Was Wulf doomed? Was this her curse? Perhaps her early sin of yielding to temptation when she was only a child had forever tainted her. Didn’t the Bible say somewhere that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the sons? That must surely pertain to mothers as well. Were none of her children destined to know their father?

  “Am I going to die?” It was the first time the girl had spoken to her.

  “No, Catalina, you’re much better, and you’re going to be fine.”

  “Then why are you crying? Did he beat you?”

  “No.” Lola had been unaware that her tears were flowing as she worried about Wulf. She brushed away her tears and smiled at the idea of him ever raising his hand to her. “He’d never beat me. I’m sad because he’s going to sea and it’s dangerous. I worry about him.”

  “He bought me to work for you, and you’re the one taking care of me. Maybe he could get his money back. He got cheated.”

  “Don’t be absurd. He didn’t buy you; he paid for your freedom. Do you understand the difference?”

  “Mama.” Estela stood in the doorway. “Pop Wulf said to ask you if I could come in and meet Katie.” Lola smiled at the sight of her daughter and pushed her soul searching away for the moment. She must send her husband off with happy memories.

  Two days later the bosun and Wulf, resplendent in new uniforms, boarded the SS Derrinshire, bound for San Francisco. Lola kissed her husband good-bye with a heavy heart and a terrible sense of dread. That night she dug out her rosary and began to pray.

  Her days were as normal as she could make them. When the older children were in school, she took Carlota and Nellie on walks and resumed her daily search of the newspapers. Her nights were filled with nightmares and prayer. “If I can say three rosaries tonight, he’ll live until tomorrow…If I make a novena to St. Christopher, he’ll live out the week…If I tell the Virgin Mary how much he means to me, she’ll keep him safe…” During the daylight hours, Lola knew that one did not bargain with God. She scolded herself for treating God and the Virgin Mary and the saints as she treated street merchants. During the dark of night her fears returned, and she became obsessed with prayer. Days turned into weeks and Lola became more and more anxious.

  Finally the day came when she heard the sound she had been listening for—the voice of the bosun at the door. She ran to the door in glad expectation, her heart beating with excitement. The bosun filled the doorway as he embraced Maggie. Lola strained to look around him and his eyes met hers. Instantly Lola knew something was wrong. She let out a small scream and grabbed a nearby chair to support herself.

  “What happened? Is he hurt? Is he…?” She choked on the question. Faster than she could form words, all the horrible scenes from her nightmares flashed through her mind: everything from the Derrinshire fighting off an enemy ship and Wulf being killed in battle to his being washed overboard in a storm.

  The bosun rushed to her and helped her into the chair. He knelt in front of her and Lola could see tears come to his eyes. Her own tears ran down her face. Maggie appeared beside her and thrust a glass of whiskey into her hand. Lola heard her teeth chattering against the glass as she tried to drink. The bosun began to talk quietly.

  “Lola, I honestly don’t know what happened.”

  “What?” croaked Lola, gasping for breath from swallowing the strong drink. “You’re his best friend. How could you not know
?”

  “We had different duty schedules. He went ashore our last day in port and that’s the last we saw of him. When it was time to sail, the harbor pilot came aboard and we sailed. I didn’t know until the next day that Wulf hadn’t returned to the ship. It’s a big ship and the officers eat and sleep in their own area. I assumed he was doing his job until the first officer sent for me and asked what I knew about him. He was furious that Wulf had jumped ship.

  “I told him there was no way Wulf jumped ship. I said we’d shipped out together since we were lads; he’d never do that. I tried to make him contact the authorities in San Francisco to see if Wulf was in trouble. Of course he didn’t believe me. We’re the new guys and he thought they had signed on a bad apple.

  “The trip back was really bad. I had to watch every move I made because they didn’t trust me anymore either. Dear God, Lola, the whole way back I worried about you and how I was going to tell you.” Maggie was now sitting on the ground next to her husband. He put his arm around her. “Me and Maggie want you to know that you’re family. You and your youngsters will be just like our own young ones, and we’ll take care of you. Not saying it won’t be tough without Wulf’s share of the expense money, but we’ve been through tough before. Tough is something we know how to deal with. I know you; tough is something you can deal with, too. We’ll be all right.” He brushed tears from her cheek. “When we get to San Francisco next time, I’ll look everywhere.”

  Lola nodded dumbly. She had no words; she wasn’t sure she had any emotions. She felt empty inside. A voice inside her echoed in the emptiness, “He just walked away from us.” Another voice said, “But he loved us too much to do that. I know he’s hurt—or worse.”

  She started to get up and go to her room, but her stomach spasmed and she vomited the whiskey, then everything began to spin around her. The next thing she knew she was lying in her bed in her nightdress and Maggie was sponging off her face. Catalina was holding Nellie and looking worried. Tears of hopelessness ran down Lola’s face. She had prayed fervently for his safety, but why would God stir himself to save one good man when hundreds were being slaughtered daily in this senseless war? “I can’t survive this again. It hurts worse than death. I just can’t do it again.”