Fields of Grace

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Eli said, “I do.” Did a note of eagerness underscore his response?

  “Lillian Vogt, do you take this man to be your legally wedded husband?”

  Time seemed to halt as Henrik held his breath, waiting for her reply. Say no, Ma! Say no, and I will take care of you. Somehow I will make it up to you for causing Father and Jakob to die. You do not have to marry him!

  But Ma’s airy voice proclaimed, “I do.”

  A war took place in Henrik’s soul when his mother and Onkel Eli—no, his stepfather Eli—turned from the captain to face the cluster of passengers who served as witnesses. People rushed forward to shake Eli’s hand, kiss Ma’s cheek, and bestow well wishes on the newly married couple.

  Henrik knew he should offer congratulations—and his blessing. But he could not. Tugging off his coat and string tie, he strode away from the merry celebration. Ma had made her decision without considering his feelings. Why should he worry about her now?

  Eli dropped onto his bunk and rested his head on his linked hands. The great boat rocked gently while the boards vibrated with the pounding of the engines. Over the past weeks, his ears had become used to the engines’ roar. The sound was now a disharmonious lullaby. He closed his eyes, replaying moments from the evening’s events while he waited for sleep to claim him.

  The passengers, eager for a reason to celebrate, had turned his marriage to Lillian into a party. The cook had prepared a smoked ham, slicing it very thin so everyone got a taste. One passenger brought out a violin, and several couples danced to the merry tunes. Eli had been unable to resist tapping his toes, but he knew better than to ask Lillian to dance. Mennonites did not dance.

  Besides, he had seen in her sky-blue eyes the heaviness of her heart. She might have accepted his proposal, but she still belonged to Reinhardt. For years Eli had dreamed of having his own family. Of shedding the feelings of isolation and loneliness. Now he had a family—a lovely wife and two fine sons—but he still felt alone.

  He sighed, opening his eyes and peering up at the underside of the bunk above his. How strange to be married yet still lying in this bunk alone. How disheartening to be married to a woman who still wore her dead husband’s ring. When they had spoken with the captain, the man had asked if they would exchange rings. Lillian had looked at the gold band on her finger as if surprised to see it there. Then she shot Eli a flustered look. He assured her it was fine to keep her familiar ring—he had none to offer. The gratitude in her eyes at his declaration had created a longing he couldn’t describe.

  Yes, she bore Eli’s name, but she was his in name only.

  He brought down his arms and rolled to his side. Across the aisle, Henrik lay on his bunk with his face toward the wall, presumably asleep. Eli decided not to poke him and find out if he was pretending. Frustration at Henrik’s abrupt departure after the wedding ceremony welled, but he forced the feeling down.

  In watching Reinhardt father his sons, there had been times Eli believed his foster brother was unnecessarily hard on them. Especially on Henrik. Eli reminded himself that Henrik had lost much. His home, his father, his little brother, his security . . . and now, maybe in his eyes, he had also lost his mother. It would take time for Henrik to adjust to all of the changes. Surely if Eli were patient, and if he assured Henrik of his place in the family, the boy would eventually accept Eli’s new position as stepfather.

  Eli’s heavy eyelids drooped, weariness finally taking hold. But suddenly Henrik rolled over, and his gaze collided with Eli’s. Immediately the boy’s eyes narrowed. Eli deliberately relaxed his face. He wouldn’t give Henrik fuel to feed the fury sparking in his eyes. For long seconds they lay, listening to the snuffles and snores of the men around them. Just when Eli thought Henrik would roll back again, the boy shot a resentful whisper across the aisle.

  “The party . . . it is over?”

  “Jo. It was a fine time. You missed eating smoked ham.” He didn’t add that Henrik had missed giving his mother a kiss of congratulations.

  “I was not hungry.” Henrik worked his lower jaw forward and back for a moment. “I spent the evening with Joseph.”

  The words came out like an accusation—as if Eli had no right to enjoy himself at a party while Joseph remained in the sick bay. But Eli exercised patience. “Did you have a nice visit?”

  A grimace creased Henrik’s youthful face. “It is stinkje in that room. I wanted to bring Joseph out.”

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Eli nodded. Good. Then Joseph would enjoy one day on deck, resting and soaking in the sunshine, before they reached New York and began their journey to Kansas by train. He yawned. Once more, sleep tugged at his eyelids.

  “I told him you and Ma married.”

  Eli’s eyes flew wide. “What did Joseph say?”

  “He is not happy. He thinks it is too soon for Ma to be marrying.”

  The words didn’t take Eli by surprise. The boys were old enough to be familiar with societal dictates. In Gnadenfeld, a second marriage less than two weeks following the death of a spouse would have been too soon. But they were no longer in Gnadenfeld—they were starting a new life. He fixed Henrik with a steady gaze. “Your mother did what was best.”

  “Best?” Henrik hissed the word. “It is best to marry someone we know she does not love? What kind of life is that?”

  Eli drew in a deep breath. “We could not travel on together as an unmarried man and woman—we had to become man and wife or return to Russia. And we could not return to Russia.”

  Even in the dim light, Eli saw Henrik’s cheeks flame red. The boy’s face contorted, but was it anger or anguish that created the deep furrows in his brow? Eli went on quietly, “As I already told you, your mother and I are suited to one another. We will all be fine together. Just wait and see.”

  With a snort, Henrik rolled over, presenting his back.

  Although exhausted, worry robbed Eli of sleep. Dear Lord, have I made a mistake?

  11

  Oh, look!” Joseph pointed, his eyes wide.

  Eli smiled down at the boy. “Jo, it is something, for sure.”

  Moments earlier, the cry had risen: “New York! New York!” The passengers, in a rush of anticipation, had scrambled up onto the deck. Eli stood at the rail with his arm tucked protectively around Joseph. The sun, creeping upward, lit the view by inches, making it seem as though the mighty city rose from shadows. Buildings stretched side by side as far inland as the eye could see. The ever-rising sun bathed the cityscape in gold while decorating the cloudy sky above in streaks of purple, orange, and pink.

  “Nature makes a special welcome for us.”

  Awe filled Joseph’s voice, bringing a lump to Eli’s throat.

  The ship sailed slowly up the bay, and Joseph excitedly pointed to the multitudes of factories, churches, stores, and public buildings. Eli laughed softly, enjoying Joseph’s enthusiasm. After his long days of sickness, Joseph was still pale and weak, and Eli wondered if he should make the boy move away from the rail and sit down to rest. But he decided a little excitement would do him good.

  The ship docked, and a cheer rose. Dozens of people pointed at the oval-shaped structure built of rosy brown stones. Some released cheers of excitement, but Eli also witnessed a few tears. Tears pricked behind his eyes, too. This was Castle Garden—the place where they would be given permission to enter the wonderful land of freedoms called America. But it also meant a release of the old. A bittersweet thought.

  A flag, anchored to a pole mounted high on the building’s roof, snapped in the morning breeze. Eli stared at the flag’s red and white stripes. They took on the appearance of fingers beckoning him to come, to live in peace, to feel at home. Unconsciously he leaned toward the flag, sadness melting away as he became filled with an eagerness to put his boots on the ground of his new homeland.

  But then a crewman bellowed for everyone to return to the sleeping hallways. “Workers will loa
d your belongings onto tugboats. Then they will organize the trunks in the emigration center. Once all the baggage has been removed from the ship, you will be allowed to disembark!”

  With groans and muttered complaints, the passengers filed back to their bunks to wait. Eli nearly wore out his watch’s cover flipping it open every few minutes to check the time. Surely the hands had stopped moving, so slowly time crept by. But finally all of the trunks, boxes, and bags had been removed, and they were given permission to leave the ship.

  “Stay with me,” Eli warned Joseph and Henrik when the boys bolted for the stairs. Standing on one foot and then the other in impatience, they waited for Lillian to join them. Together, they mounted the stairs and fell in line with the other passengers anxiously pushing their way down the plank and onto dry ground.

  Eli put his arm around Joseph as they moved down the wide plank. The boy’s slight frame seemed to possess no strength, and Eli sent up a silent prayer. Lord, let him be accepted into America. Do not let the officers deny him entrance. After all the family had gone through to make it to America, they couldn’t be sent back now.

  “Careful,” Eli said as he and Joseph left the plank and stepped onto the rocky ground. Throngs of people—passengers from the Holsatia and also two other ships that had docked in the harbor— filed toward the corridor leading to Castle Garden. Three large groups melded into one. Shoulder to shoulder they moved, voices chattering in a hodge-podge of languages. So many smells converged that Eli’s nose twitched in opposition to the assault. He was forced to stop abruptly when a man pushed in front of him, and someone bumped him hard from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and discovered Henrik on his heels. Lillian clung to Henrik’s elbow.

  The boy’s sullen expression made Eli want to grab Henrik by the collar and shake him the way Reinhardt often had. But knowing how much it would upset Lillian, he refrained. Instead, he pasted on a bright smile. “Look! A flag waves hello to us. It welcomes us to our new home.”

  Lillian looked up, smiling slightly. Then her eyes flitted briefly to Joseph, and worry pinched her brow. “I trust it will welcome all of us.”

  Eli leaned down to whisper in Joseph’s ear. “I know you are tired, boy, but when we meet the inspectors, you must stand straight and look them in the eye. Can you do that?”

  “Jo, Onkel Eli.” The boy grimaced. “I mean . . . Father.”

  Henrik’s soft snort reached Eli’s ears. Eli gave Joseph’s shoulder a light squeeze and spoke loudly enough for Henrik to hear, too. “You need not call me Father, Joseph. That is a special name reserved, rightly, for your father. Onkel Eli is fine.”

  The relieved expression that crossed Joseph’s face reminded Eli of Lillian’s response to being allowed to wear Reinhardt’s ring. I know it is too early, Lord, for them to accept me. But please let acceptance come. Let us be a real family.

  They came to a bricked sidewalk wide enough for them to walk four abreast. Eli stretched his hand to Lillian, but Henrik bolted forward, filling the space between his mother and Eli. Eli bit down on the end of his tongue, reminding himself to give Henrik time to adjust to the changes in his family. As a group, they entered Castle Garden through a double door. A glass dome overhead cast the entire scene in light. A dozen uniformed men herded the new arrivals like cattle, calling out what Eli presumed must be instructions, but he didn’t understand the language.

  Lillian slipped past Henrik and leaned close to Eli. “What are we to do now?”

  With one arm around Joseph and the other clasping Lillian’s elbow, Eli watched the officers’ hand gestures. “I think we are to get into this line leading to that table over there.”

  Lillian nodded, releasing a soft breath. They joined the long line of bedraggled newcomers. Henrik kept his face angled downward, a stubborn set to his jaw, but Joseph looked around, wide-eyed. He pointed to the high, domed ceiling.

  “Onkel Eli, what is this place? It reminds me of a cathedral in Berlin.”

  Eli looked upward and whistled through his teeth. “A fancy building, for sure.” He grinned and poked Joseph’s shoulder. “What a nice welcome for us to America, jo? Here we are, poor people from a foreign land, entering a building worthy of hosting kings and queens.”

  The man in front of them turned around. “The captain of the ship told me this building used to be a theater. A woman singer named . . .” He scrunched his face, tapping his whiskered chin with his finger. Then his expression cleared, and he pointed at them. “Lind . . . Jenny Lind . . . from Sweden gave concerts here. But not anymore.”

  Eli thanked the man for his explanation, and the line moved forward a few inches. A constant buzz of voices filled the air, making Eli’s head ache. The air was thick and hot, and Lillian fanned herself with the tails of her shawl. Henrik swayed slightly, as if emulating the movement of the ship’s deck. A glance down the line showed several others also swaying in place.

  Eli hid his smile. After weeks at sea, it did seem odd to stand on a firm surface. But it felt good—secure. He had no desire for more rocking. Of course, next they would travel by train, and surely the cars would rock on the track. He fingered his pocket, where his leather wallet sat fat and warm against his ribs. Maybe he should splurge and buy tickets for a private berth. After sleeping in a hallway, surely each of them would appreciate some privacy.

  He turned to ask Lillian’s opinion, but she and Henrik were talking quietly, their heads close together. Weariness was etched into her face. Eli’s fingers itched to smooth the tired lines around her eyes. She shifted and caught him looking at her. Color splashed across her cheeks, and his ears went hot.

  He licked his lips. “Lillian, I wonder if—”

  “It is our turn,” Henrik interrupted.

  Eli looked forward and realized the man at the table was ready for his approach. The fire in his ears traveled down his neck to his chest. “I apologize.” He gestured for Lillian to step up to the table, and she crossed in front of him with Henrik at her side. Eli guided Joseph forward with a hand on his back. As a unit, they faced the balding officer.

  A second man stood behind the table. He asked, “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” Eli gave an eager nod. The seated officer asked questions in English, the man behind the table repeated the question in German, and Eli replied in German. Then the man behind the table translated his answers into English. Eli listened closely, trying to pick up a few words. The information he shared must match the ship’s records, Eli realized, and his heart clutched when he viewed Reinhardt’s and Jakob’s names with the word gestorben inked in beside them. Gestorben—the German word for deceased. He hoped Lillian wouldn’t see the list.

  All of their names, birthdates, former place of residence, and future plans were recorded and matched with the captain’s records. When they were finished, Eli’s close attention garnered him one new English word to savor: wife. He hadn’t wished Reinhardt dead—he still mourned the loss of his foster brother and dear friend—but now Lillian was his wife, and he must honor his vows and do whatever he could to bring her contentment.

  The officer waved them on, and they were shuffled through another line that led to a curtained area. Murmuring from others let Eli know a doctor would examine each of them behind the faded green curtain. A shiver of nervousness went down his spine, and he prayed for the Lord to calm his fearful thoughts.

  Suddenly a wail rose from behind the curtain. Moments later, the curtain parted and an older couple in clothes worn by the Polish emerged. The woman cried loudly, and the man’s wrinkled face twisted into a horrible expression of worry and confusion. A uniformed man bustled forward and escorted the couple out a side door.

  Eli’s heart pounded. The people had been rejected. Even though he had never seen the man and woman before, his heart turned over in sympathy. He looked at Joseph, who stared after the couple with fright-filled eyes, and he prayed again that the boy would pass inspection.

  The doctor crooked his finger at Eli. Shoulders square, he followed the black-suited
man behind the curtain. He didn’t much like being poked, tapped, and having his teeth checked as if he were a horse, but he bore it without complaint. The doctor put an X on a paper, handed it to Eli, and sent him back out. An officer waiting outside the curtain checked his paper, nodded, and gestured for him to step aside. Eli interpreted these actions as meaning he had received approval to enter the United States, and he couldn’t stop a smile from growing on his face.

  But then the doctor gestured for Joseph. Eli held his breath, sweat breaking out over his body. The ship’s doctor had released Joseph, but would this doctor look at the boy’s pale face and sunken cheeks and deem him unfit to walk on American soil? Eli counted the seconds, his heart thudding, while he stared at the curtain and waited. After several minutes, Joseph emerged, holding up a paper that also bore an X.

  Oh, thank You, our dear loving Lord. Eli nearly collapsed with relief. He slung his arm around Joseph’s shoulders and squeezed him tight. Joseph beamed up at him and blew out a little breath followed by a soft giggle.

  Henrik received his release, and then Lillian stepped behind the curtain. He and the boys waited, release papers in hand, watching the curtain. After a few minutes, the doctor pulled the curtain aside and looked at Eli. He said something in English. Eli only understood the word wife, but since the man’s voice went up at the end, Eli knew he was being asked a question. He took a forward step and guessed at the right answer.

  “Jo, Lillian Bornholdt . . . mein Frü—mein vife . . . wuh-ife.”

  The doctor fired a quick series of statements that left Eli shaking his head. The doctor looked around, his face pinched into a scowl of impatience, and then he raised his hand and waved at someone. The ship’s captain jogged over. The doctor repeated his earlier words.

  The captain spoke in German. “Your new wife is nervous about the doctor checking her. He asks for you to come behind the curtain and offer support.”

  Eli’s chest went tight. As her husband, his presence during the simple exam would not be improper. But how would Lillian react? And how would the doctor interpret her reaction? He sent a helpless look at the boys, but neither Joseph nor Henrik offered any assistance. Truthfully, by Henrik’s crooked grin, it seemed he took pleasure in Eli’s discomfort. Henrik’s behavior stirred Eli’s resolve. If Lillian needed support, he would provide it.