by Lynn Austin
"We won't?"
"Nej. They send all the steerage passengers to the immigration station on Ellis Island."
The news made Kirsten angry. Elfin was looking weaker and more ill by the moment, and judging by the way she shaded her eyes with her hand, her headache must be excruciating. If they didn't pass the health inspection soon, Elfin would no longer be able to pretend that she was well.
Kirsten knew it must be close to noon, for the sun felt like a fire above their heads. She was beginning to feel a little dizzy. She wished she had eaten breakfast.
"Where is Ellis Island?" Kirsten asked. "How far away?"
Mr. Lindahl shrugged. "I'm not sure. But they will begin calling the roll of passengers soon and giving us landing cards with our numbers on it. We must listen very carefully for our names. The Americans do not know how to pronounce them correctly."
The flow of first- and second-class passengers finally tapered off until only the steerage passengers remained aboard the ship. Roll call took a very long time as, one by one, the ship's officials called out everyone's name. Men and women in workmen's caps and kerchiefs came forward, trailing their children behind them, waiting to have their landing papers pinned to the front of their clothing. Kirsten could barely control her impatience.
The officials called the Lindahl family forward, then Eric and Hjelmer. Kirsten looked away to avoid meeting Eric's gaze. He had successfully avoided her all morning, and that was fine with her.
"Carlson!" the official called out. "Elfin Carlson ... Kirsten Carlson ... Sofia Carlson . . ." Kirsten helped Elfin stand up, linking arms with her as they went forward.
"I feel like an item for sale in Magnusson's store," Kirsten said as the officials pinned tags to her clothing. She had hoped that her joke would make Elin smile, but it didn't. She looked more unwell by the minute, her face deathly pale. "Are you all right?" Kirsten whispered.
"Just nervous. This is the last stream to jump."
"Well, pinch your cheeks, for goodness' sake. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Finally the barrier opened, but instead of allowing the passengers to step onto American soil at last, the officials herded everyone onto ferryboats. "Help me with the trunk," Kirsten told Sofia. Elfin usually took charge of it, but she looked too weak to help wrestle it on board. Sofia didn't look ill, just sulky and stubborn. She could pout all she wanted to; it wasn't Kirsten's job to cheer her up.
The ferry was small and unbelievably crowded. It felt very unstable in the water, rocking back and forth and banging against the dock every time another ship sailed up or down the river, leaving a wake. When every inch had been packed with passengers and baggage, the engines fired up and the boat slowly chugged away from the dock, heading downstream again, back across the wide river toward the statue. The water was so choppy it was nearly impossible to remain standing without holding on to something.
"Oh no," Kirsten groaned. "Not another wild ride. I hope we don't have to go too far."
She started feeling sick before they were halfway across the river. She couldn't get ill now, not when they had to pass inspection. She glanced around and saw that the rocking motion was affecting everyone. She fastened her eyes on the horizon, the way Eric had advised. The ferry seemed to be heading straight toward the statue.
Then Kirsten saw a cluster of small ships waiting to dock at another island not far from the statue. As they drew closer, a huge three-story wooden structure came into view. It looked like a castle from a fairy tale, with a blue slate roof and four magnificent towers topped with pointed spires. Dozens of mullioned windows decorated the facades. Kirsten nudged Elin.
"Look at that place. It's like a palace or a grand hotel or something."
"America must be a very rich country," Elin said, "if this is how they welcome poor people like us-first with a giant statue and now this."
The engines slowed, then halted. The ferry lined up behind several others and the ship became a floating waiting room. Except for the crying babies, the other passengers were unusually quiet. Everyone else must be nervous, too. Kirsten wished she could talk to the other immigrants and ask them why they had left their homelands and what they wished for in America. If someone had asked for her story, she would have confessed that she had fled from small town gossip and a faithless lover. And what future did she wish for? Her wish was impossible to fulfill. She still loved Tor, in spite of everything.
The sun grew hotter and hotter by the minute. Kirsten's vision began to blur. If they had to wait here much longer she feared she might faint. She dug through her bag for something to use as a fan. Elfin sat on their trunk with her eyes closed.
Finally their ferry moved forward to dock. The sailors slammed the gangway into place and everyone crowded toward the ramp, struggling with cumbersome luggage and restless children. Fear and excitement and hope filled each face. Kirsten wanted to be the first person off the boat, the first person to pass through the inspection lines. But Elfin seemed to be having trouble standing, much less walking across the ferry's bobbing deck.
"Sit down," she told Elin. "No sense being in a rush. We'll have to wait for our turn anyway." Elin sank onto the trunk again. She looked relieved. "That ride across the river made me woozy," Kirsten said. "And after hearing everything that Mr. Lindahl said, I think I'm a little nervous, too." Once again she wished she had eaten breakfast. Too late now.
When they finally stepped onto dry land, Kirsten felt as though she had forgotten how to walk. Her head reeled and her knees felt rubbery after being at sea for so long. She struggled to recover her balance, teetering like a drunken woman. Good thing everyone else moved as slowly as she did or the Americans would think something was wrong with her. She longed to close her eyes, but she and Sofia had to lug their trunk into the building. They staggered up the pier with it and joined the long line of people waiting beneath the entrance canopy.
Kirsten saw several uniformed men standing between the dock and the building's entrance and she hoped they were porters who would help them with their luggage. But the men never moved from their posts as they carefully surveyed the crowd, and she remembered what Mr. Lindahl had said about the inspection process. Evidently it had already begun. She and Sofia hoisted the trunk between them, dragging it along the ground half of the time, pushing and shoving it up the ramp.
"Don't scowl," Kirsten whispered to Sofia. "Try to look strong and healthy."
"I am healthy," she grumbled. "You and Elfin are the ones who look sick."
It was true. Elfin did not look well at all. And she was much too quiet. She clung to Sofia's arm, her eyes squeezed shut to block out the sun's glare.
"Are we almost there?" Elin murmured.
"We're almost to the building," Kirsten said, "and then it will only be another hour or so until we're on the train to Chicago."
Inside, an enormous baggage room took up most of the building's main floor. Piles and piles of steamer trunks and suitcases and wicker baskets and crates of all shapes and sizes filled most of the space, while more men in uniform directed the flow of immigrants up a long, steep flight of stairs in the center of the room. Kirsten saw some people checking their luggage, while others dragged their bags with them up the steps. She knew it would take all three of them pushing and tugging to get their trunk to the top, and she dreaded the thought of it. But she also knew that ever since the first day of their journey, Elin had refused to let the trunk out of her sight.
"I think we should leave the trunk here," Elfin said wearily. Kirsten and Sofia gaped at her in surprise
"Are you sure?" Kirsten asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. We can't possibly haul it up all those stairs by ourselves." When they continued to stare at her, she added, "Look, I know I've been a fanatic about keeping my eye on that stupid thing, but I don't see how we can push it any farther. Look how steep those stairs are."
"Thank goodness." Sofia dropped her end of the box to the floor.
"Plenty of other people are leaving their
things here, so it must be safe," Elfin said.
Kirsten gladly handed the cumbersome trunk over to one of the baggage agents and got a claim check for it in return. Then she rejoined the line and followed the others toward the stairs. More uniformed officials were stopping people to look at the tags pinned to their clothing.
"I think I know how the cattle used to feel, going to auction on market day," Kirsten said when the man checked hers.
"Kirsten . . . shh . . ." Elin warned.
"No one can understand me," she said. "Although I wish they could. I'd like to stand up and say, `Hey! I'm a person, you know. I have feelings!' "
"Hush! They'll think you're crazy and send you back home."
"Good," Sofia mumbled under her breath.
"Why do they make this so degrading?" Kirsten asked. "They push you here and there, shouting at you if you do something wrong-as if getting angry will help us figure out what they're saying. And why is everyone wearing a uniform? It's like we're all in prison or something."
"It's not a prison," Elin said. "But with so many people I suppose there's a chance someone might get lost. I think the tags are to help us as much as them."
"Besides, it stinks in here," Kirsten complained. "I'll bet most of these people never took a bath in their lives." The smell of hundreds of unwashed bodies, magnified by the heat, was making her nauseous again. She looked around at all the worried faces and thought she could smell their fear, too.
Kirsten knew the officials were inspecting people on their way up the stairs. They pulled aside an elderly woman who paused to catch her breath partway up. Kirsten and her sisters made it past the inspectors on the stairs, but a row of physicians in white medical coats stood waiting for them to reach the top. The first doctor studied them from head to toe, then directed them to the next doctor. He was making people remove their hats or kerchiefs to check their scalps. Most people were directed to the next doctor, but one woman had a chalk mark scribbled on her lapel and was taken to a side room. The third doctor had an instrument that resembled a buttonhook and he used it to pry back each person's eyelids to inspect her eyes.
"I still haven't seen the sick family from the ship anywhere, have you?" Kirsten asked as they waited their turn.
"Poor things," Elin murmured. "I wonder what happened to them?" She was leaning heavily on Sofia's arm, still squeezing her eyes closed.
"Try to act well, Elin. Please," Kirsten begged. "We're almost there."
The man checked Kirsten's eyes first. The hooklike instrument pinched for a brief, painful moment, then it was over. She turned around and watched as he inspected Sofia's eyes, and then Elin's turn came. The moment he touched her eyes, Elin gasped in pain. She reeled back, doubling over and covering her face.
"No, Elin, no . . ." Kirsten whispered under her breath. "Just get through it ... don't let him know you're sick...."
But Elin's pain was obvious. She covered her eyes and wept. The man made her lift her head as he asked her a question. None of them knew what he was saying. He reached to examine her eyes again, but Elm pushed his hand away. She had been trying so hard to act well, but she wasn't. She shivered with chills in the overheated building, and Kirsten knew she was getting a fever. The inspector would know it, too.
He marked something on Elin's shoulder with chalk and waved her to the room on the left, not straight ahead with everyone else. Sofia and Kirsten followed her. For the first time since entering the building, Kirsten felt real fear.
"What's going on? How come everyone else went the other way?" Sofia asked.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Elin said. "I just need to sit down somewhere." She had been pale all morning, but now two feverish spots brightened her cheeks. Kirsten took her hand as she guided her to a seat in the small waiting room. The place reeked of strong soap. Kirsten could feel the unnatural warmth of Elin's body, even though she shivered with chills. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
"Don't worry.... We're going to be fine," Kirsten soothed.
Eventually a nurse came and took Elin's arm, leading her into another room. Sofia and Kirsten both stood to go with her, but the nurse babbled at them and motioned for them to sit down.
"I'm sure I'll be right back," Elin said. "Wait right here for me."
Sofia could no longer hold back her tears. "Elfin, no!" she cried. "I want to go with you!" She looked terrified.
"You'll be fine, Sofia," Elfin said. "Kirsten will take care of you."
Kirsten watched Elfin stumble down the long hallway and disappear into another room. Then Kirsten collapsed onto a chair in shock. Elfin was the strong one, the wise one. She knew what to do and where to go. How would they get through this ordeal without her?
"I don't want to go to America without Elfin," Sofia whimpered.
"It's going to be all right, you'll see. They'll bring her right back." Kirsten wished she believed her own words.
"If they do send her back to Sweden, I'm going with her."
"Shh, stop talking like that. Nobody is going back to Sweden."
They waited and waited for Elfin to return, but she never did. Other immigrants came and went, sitting in the waiting room for awhile until the nurses called for them, but no one came for Sofia and Kirsten. And no one told them what had happened to Elfin.
"What are we going to do?" Sofia asked when several hours had passed. Kirsten didn't reply. She didn't know the answer. They clung to each other's hands and waited. Sofia looked so young and helpless. She was only sixteen, and even though Kirsten was only two years older, she was in charge now. The weight of that responsibility terrified her. Poor Elfin. She had been carrying everyone's weight for the entire trip, and she was only eleven months older than Kirsten.
"Don't worry. She'll be back soon," Kirsten murmured, trying to reassure herself. She didn't believe it. And she suspected that Sofia didn't, either.
The room seemed to grow hotter by the hour, the smell of soap stronger and stronger. Kirsten looked around for a window that opened. The longer she sat, the more nauseated she felt as the combination of the heat, the soapy smell, and her rising fear began to overwhelm her.
"It's so stuffy in here," she said, fanning her face with her hand. "Do you suppose they'd let us open the window?"
"It feels fine to me," Sofia said. "Are you all right? You're not getting sick, too, are you?"
"Of course not. I'm fine." But she wasn't. The heat was sapping her strength.
"You look white, Kirsten. Maybe you should eat something."
The mention of food did it. Kirsten clapped her hand over her mouth and stood. "I'm going to be sick...." But when she tried to walk, the floor jumped up to meet her.
Then everything went black.
The next thing Kirsten knew, she was lying on a cot in a different room. Everything in the room was white, including the uniform on the nurse who bent over her bed to hold a cool cloth to her forehead. The smell of that terrible soap was even stronger in here. Kirsten covered her mouth again as her stomach turned inside out. But there was nothing in her stomach to vomit. She told herself to take deep breaths.
When the nausea passed, Kirsten tried to sit up. "What happened to Sofia? Where is she?" But the nurse shook her head, forcing her to stay down. "I'm fine. I'm not sick. I need to go back to the other room with my sister. I can't leave Sofia all alone!"
The woman's reply sounded soothing, yet her firm grip made it clear that Kirsten had to remain lying down. She wondered if Sofia was close enough to hear her.
"Sofia? Are you out there?" she called. The woman grew upset at Kirsten's shouts. She shook her head and made shushing sounds, refusing to let Kirsten rise, insisting she lie still.
Kirsten told herself not to panic. She knew she wasn't sick; she didn't have a fever or a headache like Elin did. It was just a bad case of nerves and too much excitement on an empty stomach. Or maybe the awful rocking motion of the ferry had done it. If she remained calm, the doctors would find out that she was fine and let her go back to the waiting
room with Sofia.
Poor Sofia. She must be terrified.
After a very long wait, a doctor arrived. He listened to Kirsten's heart and took her pulse. She knew it must be racing, but why wouldn't it be? She was upset about Elfin and trapped in this room and worried about Sofia. She wished she could explain it to him. He stuck a thermometer under her arm to take her temperature. There. He would know she didn't have a fever. He examined her skin while he waited, probably to look for a rash. According to Elfin, the sick woman and her children had been covered with rashes from head to toe. Kirsten wished she knew if Elfin had one. She closed her eyes, pleading with God to let Elfin be all right.
When the doctor finished he looked at Kirsten's landing tag, said something to the nurse, and they both left. Kirsten stood up and smoothed down her skirts. But she must have stood up too fast, because another wave of dizziness swept over her. She collapsed onto the bed again and closed her eyes, willing herself not to be sick. She waited some more. It seemed like a very long time.
At last a different woman entered the room, wearing street clothes instead of a white uniform. Kirsten stood up, careful to do it slowly this time. "Kirsten Carlson?" the woman asked.
"That's right."
"You speak Swedish, yes?"
Relief flooded through Kirsten. "Yes! Yes! Thank heaven they sent someone who could understand me!"
"I'm sorry it took so long. There were several other Swedish immigrants arriving on your ship, and they needed me to interpret for them in the Registry Room. I'm Mrs. Bjork from the Swedish Immigrant Aid Society. How can I help you?"
Kirsten's words poured out in a torrent. "You have to tell them that I'm not sick! Please, tell them that I feel fine now. I just got a little dizzy from the boat ride and the heat, but that's all it was. I need to go back out to the waiting room and find my sister Sofia. They took our sister Elfin away to one of these rooms, and then they stuck me in here, and they left Sofia out there all alone. She'll be so frightened and-"
"I understand. It is frightening when you're so far from home and don't know what's going on."
