by Lynn Austin
By the time the wagon reached the village, the sun had started to elbow through the clouds. Sofia longed to jump off as Kirsten had done and run to the cemetery behind the church to see her mother's grave one last time. Instead, she bid a silent good-bye to the church and the graveyard, to the wooden schoolhouse that she and her sisters had attended, to the tidy stores that lined the main street. It was market day, and the villagers went about their business as usual, setting up their booths in the square, laying out cheese and eggs for sale.
Kirsten slid off the wagon again before it came to a halt at the station. "I'll be right back," she called.
"No, come back here," Elin yelled. "You'll miss the train!"
"Don't worry, I'll hear the whistle."
Sofia jumped down from the wagon behind Kirsten. "Wait for me! I'm coming with you." If Kirsten had suddenly decided to stay behind, then Sofia would stay, too. She lifted her hem above the mud and hurried to catch up with Kirsten, still clutching the bouquet of wild flowers, ignoring Elin's protests.
Kirsten looked annoyed to see Sofia running along behind her. "Why are you following me? Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm not getting on the train to America unless you do."
"Don't be stupid. Of course I'm getting on the train. We can't change our minds now. I ... I just need to say good-bye to someone."
"Can we go to the cemetery afterward? I want to see Mama's grave one last time." With any luck, they would both miss the train.
"Fine," Kirsten said, grabbing Sofia's hand. "Come on."
She towed her down the walkway, hurrying through the market area without stopping to greet anyone. If Kirsten was heading toward the church, she was taking the long way around, passing the row of stores on the main street instead of taking the more direct route. She halted abruptly in front of Magnusson's General Store, where the owner's son, Tor, was sweeping the wooden sidewalk with a broom.
"Good-bye, Tor," Kirsten said primly. "We're leaving for America today, and you'll never see me again. Ever. As soon as the train comes we're leaving, and we're never coming back."
She whirled around before Tor could reply and strode away, walking so quickly that Sofia could barely keep up with her. She thought she saw Kirsten wiping her eyes. Tor returned to his task.
Kirsten didn't stop until they reached their mother's grave. "Hurry up and say good-bye," she told Sofia, "or we'll miss our train."
Tears filled Sofia's eyes as she knelt to place the wilting wild flowers on the grass. This was the last time she would ever be able to visit her mother. Sofia had come here to pray every week since Mama died and had spent the last month of Sundays-ever since the tickets had comebegging Mama to talk to Jesus and arrange a miracle so they could all stay in Sweden. His miracle had better come quickly.
She looked up at Kirsten, who was waiting with crossed arms. "How can we leave Mama?"
"She isn't here, you know," Kirsten said impatiently. "She's in heaven. She can't hear you talking to her."
Sofia's temper flared. "How do you know whether or not she can hear me?"
"Well, if she can, then I'm sure she'll hear you in America, too. Come on." She started walking back toward the cemetery gate.
"You have no feelings at all, Kirsten!" Sofia yelled as she struggled to her feet. "Your heart is just one big block of ice!"
They jogged back to the station, and by the time they arrived, panting from exertion, Elin was so angry she turned her back and refused to speak to them. When Kirsten sank down on a bench to wait, Sofia deliberately chose a different bench, staring up at Elin's turned back. It was Elin's fault that they were leaving. Kirsten's, too.
Uncle Sven roamed the platform as he waited for the train to arrive, raking his fingers through his hair and peering down the tracks as if eager to be rid of them and get on with his day. Sofia felt like a prisoner, banished into exile for a crime she didn't commit.
When the train whistle finally sounded in the distance, Sofia feared she might throw up. She looked over at Kirsten as the train rumbled to a stop and silently pleaded with her to change her mind and stay here. Kirsten's cheeks were very pink and her braids had already begun pulling loose from the pins, but she picked up her satchel and stood.
"Good-bye, girls," Uncle Sven said above the sound of the thundering train. "Godspeed."
He reached out to embrace them, but Elin walked away. Sofia went willingly into his arms.
"You can stay here with me, little one," he told her. "You don't have to leave." He had tried to convince her to stay with him from the moment Elin first told him about the tickets, but Elin had remained steadfast, insisting that Sofia come with her.
"Thank you," Sofia told her uncle now, "but I have to go with my sisters."
"Come on, Sofia," Elin called. She reached for her hand and clutched it tightly as they walked toward the train. This was it. They were really, truly leaving home and never coming back.
"Good-bye," Sofia tried to say, but it came out in a whisper. "Good-bye ..."
THE TRAIN RUMBLED and hissed like a dragon as Elfin walked toward it, clutching her sister's hand. Sofia wept aloud, and even Kirsten was sniffling and wiping her eyes. But Elfin was so relieved to know that she would never see Uncle Sven again for as long as she lived that she didn't shed a single tear.
She helped Sofia climb aboard, then guided her down the aisle between the rows of seats. Kirsten had boarded ahead of them and had found a pair of seats that faced each other. "Ride backwards with me, Sofia," she said. "You'll be able to see more."
Sofia shook her head and leaned against Elfin for comfort. When the whistle suddenly shrieked, Sofia yelped in fear. Elfin hugged her close. None of them had traveled on a train before.
"We're going to be just fine," Elfin soothed. "You'll see."
She did her best to put on a brave show for her sisters, but there was a cold place inside her that she didn't think would ever be warm again. It was too late to change her mind. She couldn't turn back. She wondered if Papa had felt this way as the ice had splintered beneath his feet and he'd plunged into the dark, bottomless lake.
Elfin still couldn't believe she was leaving home. She loved their little farm, as poor and shabby as it was, loved the woods and streams and gentle hills that surrounded her family's land. They had worked so hard after Mama died to keep it running. Mama used to say that a woman's most precious treasures were her home and her family, and Elfin believed it with all her heart. But she couldn't stay. She had to take Kirsten and Sofia someplace safe. They still didn't know the real reason they were leaving home. No one did.
Kirsten shoved open her window and leaned out, gazing behind them as the train steamed from the station, watching their village and neighboring farmland fade into the dwindling mist behind them. Tears trailed down her cheeks. Elfin faced the opposite direction, toward their future, refusing to look back. "We'll be fine. Just fine," she said, although she doubted if Sofia believed her.
Grief numbed Elfin-it probably numbed all of them. She watched the scenery race past, wanting to memorize her homeland. America might look very different.
"It's getting cold in here," Elin said as time passed. Sofia was rubbing her arms to warm herself. "You'd better close the window, Kirsten."
She tugged it shut and sat down again. They had been traveling for more than an hour, but tears still rolled slowly down Kirsten's cheeks.
"Are you all right? " Elfin asked her.
Kirsten wiped her face with the heels of her hands. "I'm fine. The cool air made my eyes water."
"I hear there are a lot of unmarried men in America," Elin said, trying to make Kirsten smile. Instead, her temper flared.
"There were plenty of unmarried men in our village, too, but none of them would ever marry us. Not with everyone in town whispering about us the way they did and saying that-" Kirsten glanced at Sofia and stopped short. Sofia still didn't know that their father's death hadn't been an accident. But Kirsten had already said too much.
"What do you mean?" Sofia asked. "Why were people whispering about us? Tell me what you're talking about." Elin was trying to find a way to avoid Sofia's questions when Kirsten gave her a way out.
"I don't want to talk about getting married," she said.
"Later," Elin whispered to Sofia, holding a finger to her lips. Hopefully, Sofia would forget by then.
They lapsed into silence again, miles apart from each other even though they sat with their knees and shoulders touching. Elfin had never traveled this far from home in her life. None of them had. As the hours slipped by and the train carried them farther and farther away, the landscape slowly began to change, looking more and more unfamiliar. Elfin closed her eyes, wanting to remember home, afraid she would forget what it looked like.
"Are you sleeping?" Kirsten asked after a while.
"No, just resting." Elfin straightened up and reached for the satchel of food they had packed. "Does anybody want lunch?"
Kirsten shook her head.
"No thank you," Sofia said.
Elfin knew by Sofia's prim reply that she was still angry with them for not answering her questions. Sofia could nurse a grudge longer than anyone Elfin knew.
Kirsten stood and moved into the aisle to stretch. "I think I'll go exploring. Come with me, Sofia."
"No thank you."
"I don't think you're supposed to roam around," Elin said.
"Why not? I can't get lost unless I fall off the train, can l?"
"That's not the point. We don't know what sorts of people are aboard. You'd better stay here."
Kirsten turned away and stalked down to the end of the aisle. Elfin held her breath, hoping her sister wouldn't try to open the door and go into the next passenger car. But Kirsten turned around and paced the length of their car in the other direction before returning to her seat and sinking onto it with a huff.
Why did Kirsten and Sofia have to be so difficult-now, of all times? For months Elin had felt sick with worry, afraid to believe that they really would be able to escape. Protecting her sisters from Uncle Sven had been an exhausting ordeal requiring constant vigilance. But now she had exchanged a known fear for a host of unknown ones. What if Uncle Lars turned out to be even more of a monster than Uncle Sven had been?
But no, Uncle Lars had paid for all of their tickets and made all of the arrangements. He would lift this heavy burden from Elin's shoulders and provide a new home for all three of them. The promise of rest and relief and a roof above her head had kept Elfin going. If only her sisters could understand this and be grateful for the choices she had made instead of sulking.
She handed Kirsten a chunk of kndckebrod from the food bag. Sofia shook her head when Elfin offered her some. "At least eat a little bite," Elfin insisted, pushing a small piece into Sofia's hands. "The mice will eat it if you don't."
Sofia reluctantly nibbled a piece. Elfin didn't feel much like eating, either. The pain in her stomach made her feel as though she'd swallowed a pile of rocks.
"Will the bread taste the same in America?" Sofia asked after a moment.
"Of course, silly." Elfin elbowed her gently in the ribs. "The person who bakes it determines the taste, not the place where it's baked."
Tears dropped onto Sofia's uneaten bread. "I'm going to hate America."
"Oh, don't be such a baby," Kirsten said. "If you're going to be this grouchy for the rest of your life, I'll pay to send you back to Sweden myself. Do you think this is easy for any of us?" Elfin heard suppressed tears in Kirsten's voice.
"Listen, a few months from now we'll be glad we left this place," Elfin said. "You didn't want to be Aunt Karin's servant for the rest of your life, did you? Wiping her children's runny noses and soggy bottoms?"
"At least Aunt Karin let us get up and walk around," Kirsten said. "Now we get to be your servant."
"Could we please stop fighting with each other?" Elfin said with a sigh. "Please?"
Sofia sniffled in reply. Kirsten tore off another piece of the crusty bread and chewed it slowly.
"Who invited Uncle Sven and Aunt Karin to move in with us, anyway?" Kirsten asked with her mouth full. "We were doing just fine on our own but as soon as they moved in, everything changed. It's supposed to be Nils' farm, you know. They stole it from him."
"Nils said he didn't want it," Sofia said. "I heard him say it. I guess he didn't want to be bothered with us, either."
"Well, that's all in the past," Elfin said, waving her hand. "We're going to look forward from now on, not over our shoulders. Uncle Lars must be very rich over there in America if he could buy all of these tickets for us. And he was Mama's favorite brother. He'll treat us like his very own daughters, not servants."
"I'll bet we'll never have to work another day in our lives," Kirsten said. "We won't have to milk the cows if we want a glass of milk, and we won't have to push the chickens off their nests whenever we want eggs. Everything will come from the shops."
"What will we do all day?" Sofia asked. Her soft voice reminded Elfin of falling snowflakes.
"Nothing. We'll be just like Mrs. Olsson in the village, with serving girls to do all our work." Kirsten slouched languidly across the seat, pretending to lift a teacup with her pinkie finger extended.
"Kirsten! Your petticoats are showing," Elfin said, tugging her skirt down over her ankles.
Kirsten ignored her. "Before long, we'll forget that we ever lived in a smoky old cottage on a run-down farm."
"It wasn't run-down!" Sofia said.
"Fine. Believe whatever you want." Kirsten sat up and rearranged her skirts with a huff. "Pretty soon we'll forget all of those stupid, ugly people in that stupid, ugly town."
The train reached the city of Gothenburg late in the afternoon. Elfin gazed out of the window at a city so huge it seemed to take forever to travel from the outskirts to the station in the city's center. Kirsten had shoved open the window to lean out, but she quickly closed it again.
"Ew! Something stinks like rotten fish."
"Well, the city is on the ocean," Elfin said. "Their fish market is very famous."
Papa had once visited Gothenburg, and he'd described it so beautifully to Elfin-the call of the seabirds, the sigh of ocean waves, the flavor of salt that was so heavy in the air you could taste it on your lips. But the city must have changed since he'd visited it. Elfin didn't hear any seabirds, only the shriek and rumble and hiss of the train. She couldn't taste the salt, only the stench of fish and soot and fumes.
Kirsten stood up before the train stopped, clutching her bag as if ready to bolt. Elfin waited until the coach halted, but even then she felt as though she were still moving when she rose to her feet.
"The White Star Steamship Line sent a wagon to meet your train," the conductor told them as they got off. "They'll transport you to a boardinghouse near the pier for the night."
"See? Uncle Lars thought of everything," Elfin said. "And it's all paid for, too." She hoped to reassure her sisters-and herself-that they would be well taken care of.
The platform shook beneath her feet as another train chuffed out of the depot. Baggage agents had heaped everyone's luggage on the platform, and travelers sorted through the pile for their belongings. Elfin searched through the pile, too, but couldn't find their trunk. Even after the heap of baggage had disappeared, there was so sign of it.
Panic tightened her chest. She walked the entire length of the platform and back again, examining every box and packing crate, but none of them was hers. What would they do without their trunk? It contained everything they owned and all of their food for the journey. She hurried back to where her sisters stood waiting.
"Our trunk is missing! Help me find it!"
For several endless, heart-stopping minutes Elfin and Kirsten ran around in a panic while Sofia sank down on a bench, hunched with self-pity.
"Why aren't you helping us?" Kirsten asked her.
"Because I hope we did leave it behind. Then we can get on the next train and go home."
; Elfin wondered if Uncle Sven had kept it on purpose to punish her and to make certain they would return home. The thought infuriated her.
"We aren't going back, Sofia. I'd rather leave everything behind and go without food for the next few weeks than turn back."
But could they really leave everything behind? Elfin sorted through the trunk's contents in her mind, trying to recall what they had packed. They could replace their clothes and winter coats and bedding-although Elfin had no idea where the money to buy new things would come from. She had also packed a few heirlooms from home, even though it meant sacrificing some other items to make space. The copper coffee kettle Mama had always used when they had guests was in the trunk, as was her book of hymns, along with linen towels and aprons and table runners that Mama had embroidered for her wedding chest. Elfin had packed the wooden mortar and pestle that Papa had carved, a bowl painted with rosemaling, and a white linen tablecloth that had been their grandmother's. There was nothing of great value, yet losing the trunk would mean one more loss after so many others.
"Here it is," Kirsten suddenly shouted. Elfin hurried over to find their missing trunk, hidden behind one of the White Star wagons. Her shoulders slumped with relief. She motioned to Sofia, who was still sitting on the bench.
"Come on! We found it!"
Sofia stood and dragged herself to the waiting carriage. Night had fallen, and it was too dark to see very much of the city as they rode to the lodgings that the steamship line had provided. Elfin felt drained. She closed her eyes and listened to Kirsten and Sofia talking quietly beside her.
"Why don't you want to move to America?" Kirsten asked Sofia.
"I just don't. Uncle Sven said I should let you and Elfin go without me. He said I could stay with him."
Sofia's words made Elin's heart speed up. "He's not as nice as you think," she said in a shaking voice.
"He's the reason Nils left home, remember?" Kirsten added. "And I heard him saying that Elfin was going to be next. He was going to make her move out and get a job in town."
