The California Immigrant

by Barbara Anne King

  “Me, me,” said Pauli as he grabbed for the train. Martin surrendered as Pauli took control, completely enthralled with the moving vehicle.

  “So,” Martin said, “I see the town is coming back to life.”

  “Yes,” said Marko. “We have placed the emphasis on building fast while building steel–framed, A-class buildings that can better withstand an earthquake, which we know we will get again even if it takes more than a century.”

  “Believe it or not,” Vlad said, “within three years we will have built twenty thousand new buildings. There’s talk of a big party to celebrate.”

  “Marko certainly chose the right profession,” said Uncle Anton. “But he hasn’t had a moment’s rest and may not get one for a long time.”

  “Actually, I’m thinking of starting my own engineering firm with a couple of partners—guys I went to school with. We’ve gained so much expertise in such a short time that we feel we will have no shortage of business.”

  Martin looked around the room. So much had happened in such a short time. Paul is gone. Pauli is here. The city was destroyed and now was rebuilding in record time. And Marko planned to start an engineering firm. But what about Chinatown?

  “Tell me what’s happening with Chinatown? I have two Chinese who work for me at the restaurant who will be curious.”

  “Well,” Uncle Anton said, rubbing his chin, “there was a big battle over that. Many wanted it moved, but the Chinese wanted to stay put. They threatened a trade boycott, which destroyed the opposition. The new Chinatown has pagoda roofs, which even its detractors find charming.”

  “There was a big scandal here,” said Vlad. “Politicians were looking for under-the-table bribes for city services and licenses.”

  “Graft and corruption will always be with us,” Uncle Anton said. “Someone trying to make a buck out of another’s misery.”

  Aunt Mirna and Katarina had left the room and were now calling for everyone to join them around the table. Katarina scooped up Pauli and set him in his high chair between Aunt Mirna and herself so they could help feed him. Then Mirna appeared with a large bowl of seafood risotto and began passing it around. She had remembered that it was Martin’s favorite dish.

  The day after Christmas, Martin set out to walk the streets of San Francisco so he could see all the new buildings that had breathed life back into the city. But first he planned to head to the Church of St. Francis of Assisi. Marko had said that all the walls and tower had survived even as the inside was being consumed by fire. And once he reached the 600 block of Vallejo Street, the tower came into view. Those walls had been made from adobe bricks, which can last a long time in dry climates but are especially susceptible to an earthquake. It was a miracle, Martin thought, that the church survived. St. Francis was watching over both his church and his city that day and continues to bless it. Nothing else could account for the stupendous comeback.

  As he contemplated the miracle of the church, Martin realized it was a metaphor for himself. His body had remained strong through the earthquake but his insides—his heart—had nearly been destroyed. But like the church, he would be rebuilt and Lena was the one to do it. When Martin came back to his senses, he noticed a Tau cross had been planted next to the church—the cross of St. Francis. Now he knew what he would bring back for Lena—a Tau cross—a reminder of the miracle of the church and also of himself.

  It was not long until Martin stumbled upon a jewelry store. He didn’t see a Tau cross in the window so he went into ask. The clerk showed him two—one in gold, the other in silver. Both were small—just the right size for Lena. He bought the one in gold since the city, whose patron saint is Francis of Assisi, was incorporated in 1850 at the height of the Gold Rush. Ironically, the day was April 18—the same day as the earthquake fifty-six years later. Lena had lived in San Francisco for several years after immigrating with her family. The cross and its symbolism would mean a great deal to her. At least, Martin hoped it would.

  Martin’s final stop on his self-guided tour was the grocery store, which he always thought of as Paul’s grocery store. But now he saw it had a sign—Jurich’s Grocery—no mention of Paul. Martin pushed the door open and walked in, a bell announcing his entrance. Vlad looked up from his perch at the back, letting out a big welcome. Then he hurried to the front of the store to show Martin around. “We tried to create a bit of a feeling of an old-world market,” said Vlad. “Notice how the oval counter in the center just lends itself to showcasing all of our produce along with some of the cheeses and other specialty items.”

  “It puts me in the cooking mood,” said Martin.

  “Exactly. This is what we call marketing,” Vlad laughed. “It gets people in the mood to buy and spend.”

  “How is your strategy working?”

  “Very well—much better than before. But, of course we don’t have much competition right now. So it’s still too early to be sure.”

  “One reason I wanted to see your store is that I’m thinking about opening a grocery myself in Watsonville. There isn’t anything like the one you have there.”

  “Well, if I can help you by sharing my knowledge that would please me very much. In fact, I would like to help you get set up but only if Katarina thinks she can manage alone. Maybe we could even go into business together.”

  “That was what I had been thinking, too. Between the restaurant and two grocery stores, we might be able to purchase in bigger lots and save money. Then there would be more profits all around.”

  “It didn’t take you long to learn, did it? Profits are the name of the game in America. The more the better.”

  Vlad’s comment made Martin remember his time picking fruit. Workers, too, need to share more in the profits. After all, they’re the ones who make the profits possible. He hoped he would never be so successful that he forgot what it was to be poor—to be a man working for little wages, living hand to mouth.

  Chapter 22

  Martin got back home in time for the New Year’s Eve party at the Slavonic Society. He hoped Lena would not forget their date, because this was going to be an important event for him. Remembering that clothes make the man, he had hunted all over San Francisco for the right suit to wear this evening. Michael was the first person to spot him at the party. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” Martin was wearing a dark, wool suit in a twill weave tailored to fit with a blue paisley tie. He had pomaded his wavy hair to slick it back, which made his jade-colored eyes even more prominent. His new black leather shoes were polished to perfection. “What happened? You are transformed.”

  “I visited San Francisco for the holidays so I took advantage of their after-Christmas sales.”

  “Well, I’d say you did more than that. No one is going to believe you are the same person.”

  So, it must be true, clothes do make the man. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, then he spotted Lena entering across the room. And clothes make the woman, too. Lena was wearing a white satin ball gown with a bodice embroidered with gold thread. The Tau cross will look perfect with it. As he approached her, a look of astonishment crossed her face. Before he could speak, she said, “Martin, you look so handsome tonight.”

  Karlo stepped up and slapped him on the back. “You now have the air of a successful businessman.”

  Martin did not know what to say in response to these compliments, so he turned to Lena. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room.” She blushed as Martin took her hand to dance.

  After they had finished the kolo, they sat down to talk. Time passed quickly until it was almost midnight, and champagne appeared on trays held by waiters wearing tuxes. Martin took a glass and handed it to Lena and then took one for himself. There was still time before the clock struck the New Year, so Martin took the small box wrapped in silver out of his pocket and presented it to Lena. “This is a small token of my love for you.”

  Lena unwrapped the box quickly and opened it with a gasp of pleasure. “Oh, Martin, I love it.” She held
the necklace out for him to fasten around her neck. “How does it look?”

  “Not that you needed it, but it adds to your beauty. I’m sure you know it is a Tau cross.”

  “Yes, of course, the cross of St. Francis.”

  “Did you know his church survived the earthquake? He is a powerful saint. And one with wisdom to know what is important in life.”

  “He believes in the simple life. And I do, too. That’s what I appreciate about you, Martin. You are a Franciscan in so many ways.”

  “And that’s what I like about Watsonville. Here the simple life can be lived to the fullest.” But even in cities, a person can still find the route.

  Now the clock chimed midnight and everyone around them kissed. Martin had not yet kissed Lena on the lips, but tonight he would do just that. He took Lena in his arms and drew her into him. Looking down at her, he tilted her chin up until their eyes met, sparks flying between them. Then he drew closer until their lips met in a tender caress that deepened into a passionate connection both of them could feel. When they parted lips, they were both breathless and on fire. Martin was glad that Lena’s family was on the other side of the room. But then he heard Karlo’s booming voice. “Happy New Year.” And he bent down to kiss Lena on the cheek as Martin gave Mrs. Bakovich a hug and peck on each cheek.

  Chapter 23

  The next day while the restaurant was closed, Martin went to visit Michael. He found him at his uncle’s ranch. “I’d like to talk with you about my new idea for a business venture.”

  “Let’s go inside and sit down.” No one was in the parlor so Michael commandeered it for the meeting. “Now tell me what new idea you’re cooking up.”

  “If by cooking up you think I’m going to open another restaurant, you’re wrong. What I’d like to do is open a grocery store but not just any grocery store—one like my cousins have in San Francisco.”

  “Grocery store. We already have plenty of places to get supplies. What is so different about the one you want to open?”

  “As you know, there is not one store that carries everything, although a couple make an effort to do it. But nothing like Jurich’s Grocery. In addition, having a grocery store would enable me to get ingredients for my restaurant at a lower price. Vlad might even go in with me so we could both benefit and keep prices even lower.”

  “I guess you really are a businessman, Martin. You have it all thought out already. Do you have a location scouted out yet?”

  “Not yet. I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”

  “Well, you want it accessible to housewives. They’re always shopping on Main Street as well your restaurant is nearby, which would allow you to easily go back and forth.”

  Martin found a vacant space on Main Street that was near Ford’s Department Store where so many housewives shopped. He had to keep the housewives in mind, not only for location but also for the look and feel of the store as well as items carried, since women did most of the shopping. He wanted to create an environment that would draw them in—an environment that would also provide a social opportunity like the markets he knew back home. Market Day was often the highlight of housewives’ week in Croatia.

  Martin knew he needed to get a woman’s input. Lena was a bit too young, and she still lived at home where her mother ran the household. But she had three sisters who were all housewives. Maybe he could get one of them to help him if not all three. So, he talked it over with Lena and she agreed to ask them.

  “Martin, Danica really wants to help you, and she would be the best one because she has been married the longest and is also a wonderful cook and hostess.” So, between Danica and his cousin Katarina, Martin got more than enough input; in fact, at times he wondered if he had lost control.

  Opening Day was a huge success. Housewives were lined up early to be first in the door. They loved the market setup as you walked in because they could easily spot who else was there and chase them down for a bit of gossip. But Martin noticed they were also impressed with the quality of the produce. He heard one say it was as good as a farm stand and maybe even better. Of course the produce was better because he only had the best quality. Katarina came down with Pauli to help, which made everything go so smoothly. Lena’s family hosted them for the few days they were in town, which was a relief to Martin since he did not have extra funds to pay for a hotel nor could he put them up at the boarding house. It was also a good opportunity for the two families to get to know each other because Martin planned to ask Lena to marry him soon.

  Both the restaurant and grocery business flourished as townspeople patronized both. The ladies looked forward to their shopping day at Martin’s Fresh Market and the farmers especially liked gathering at the Dalmatian Coast Cafe at lunch for a substantial meal and a chance to talk politics, something every Croatian man likes to do. After he finished cooking, Martin would always join the group and share whatever he had heard earlier in the week. Meantime, Liu and Chao, the new waiter, would prepare for dinner. Hong had been promoted to Assistant Grocery Store Manager since Martin needed someone he trusted to be there when he couldn’t be. Chao was proving to be equally efficient. He had a smile for every customer paired with a hospitable manner that always left customers satisfied. Liu was happy to stay where he was since he wanted to learn all of Martin’s secrets before opening his own restaurant, which he hoped would be soon.

  Chapter 24

  In October, San Francisco was holding a big five-day party to celebrate the rebuilding of the city called Portola Days, in honor of Gaspar de Portola who discovered the City by the Bay. Uncle Anton had written to invite Martin and Katarina had written to Lena’s family to invite them, although they could not offer them hospitality other than meals. Nevertheless, Karlo wanted to go and take his family with him since San Francisco had been their first home in the United States, although they were lucky to have missed the earthquake. All three husbands of Lena’s sisters also decided to attend since they had very little chance to spend time in the city and only knew small-town life. So, all ten boarded the train for what would be a real adventure—one they would always remember.

  They arrived just in time to see Portola making his entrance via the bay amidst ships from the Pacific Fleet and other navies around the world. Portola was then paraded on horseback down Market Street, the first of several parades that would be among the numerous events signaling the world that San Francisco was back in business. All of California’s cities had been invited to send a float. The two that stood out were from the Asian communities—a dragon float entered by Chinatown and a float featuring cherry blossom trees entered by Japanese residents.

  The family group secured several cabs to take them to their hotel—the Fairmont on Nob Hill, which had just finished construction before the earthquake and withstood the shocks from its perch above the city, although the interior saw fire. Everyone gasped at the magnificence of the hotel as they drew up to the entrance. Once in their rooms, they had no time to relax as Martin urged them on. “Uncle Anton is expecting us at his restaurant for lunch.” Martin was anxious to show Lena and her family where he got his start washing dishes. He wanted them to know how far he had come, how his ambition has propelled him forward and would continue to do so until he fully realized his American dream.

  The sign on the Adriatic Coast Cafe’s door read, Closed for private party. Martin was impressed that his uncle had made this thoughtful gesture to show his generous hospitality as well as his love for his nephew and the family he expected him to join in marriage.

  Uncle Anton was at the door, waiting to greet everyone. When Martin walked in, he hardly recognized the cafe. The tables were pushed together to create one big square to accommodate everyone. And in keeping with the red and yellow Portola theme, a red cloth adorned the table with a large bouquet of yellow sunflowers as the centerpiece. Everyone gazed at the pictures of the Dalmatian Coast on the wall, with Karlo announcing, “That picture on the right is Split, our ancestral home, where we emigrated from. I’m
starting to feel nostalgic.”

  “And I hope you do,” said Anton. “That was my intention with the special menu I have put together for all of you to enjoy.” Before he could elaborate, the door opened and Mirna walked in, carrying a tray of baked goods, which Anton relieved her of and took to the kitchen for later.

  “Greetings, everyone,” she said with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling in the light. “I have come to join you so we can all get acquainted. But I think I have met some of you before…perhaps many years ago at the Slavonic Society.”

  “I think you’re right. But we were all so much younger then. We left a few years before the earthquake,” Pauline said.

  “The earthquake,” said Anton. “That’s how we tell time now. Something is either before or after the earthquake—no longer BC or AD—it’s BE or AE.” They all laughed. It helped break the tension, which is often so palpable during first encounters, especially when you’re trying to make a good impression.

  The meal started with an assortment of fried fish—oysters, calamari, and small shrimp—and then continued with Martin’s favorite dish, seafood risotto, and finally finished with a sea bass baked in salt served with assorted roast vegetables. Anton chose the fish in salt to make an impression, and he elicited Martin’s support to do it right—carefully cracking the salt casing, removing the skin and bones, and plating the succulent white fish with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil imported from Italy and a squeeze of lemon. An assortment of colorful roasted vegetables completed the presentation as glasses were filled with a white wine chosen to compliment the dish.