Until We Reach Home (15 page)

“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,” Elin 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 Elin 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. “Elin, no!” she cried. “I want to go with you!” She looked terrified.

“You’ll be fine, Sofia,” Elin said. “Kirsten will take care of you.”

Kirsten watched Elin stumble down the long hallway and disappear into another room. Then Kirsten collapsed onto a chair in shock. Elin 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 Elin,” 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 Elin 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 Elin.

“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 Elin. 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 Elin 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 Elin, the sick woman and her children had been covered with rashes from head to toe. Kirsten wished she knew if Elin had one. She closed her eyes, pleading with God to let Elin 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 Elin 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.”

“So you’ll tell them that I’m not sick? I can go now?”

“Not yet. The immigration officials wanted me to explain to you that a family aboard your ship became ill with typhus.”

Kirsten’s skin prickled.
Please, not Elin.

“But I’m fine! I don’t have that disease and neither does Elin.”

“That may be true, but the immigration officials need to be very cautious about letting any further typhus patients into the country. It is a very serious disease, and they don’t want an epidemic on their hands. That’s why they took your sister to the hospital building.”

“The hospital? Will she be all right?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s too soon to know.”

Kirsten’s fear for Elin soared, but she told herself to remain calm. “I have another sister, Sofia. She’s out in the waiting room and she’s only sixteen and—”

“Unless she became ill, too, she’ll still be in the waiting room. I’ll talk to her and explain what’s going on when we’re finished.”

“Why can’t I go talk to her? I’m fine, really.”

“The nurse said that you fainted, Miss Carlson. Because of the threat of a typhus outbreak, they’ve decided to take you to the hospital, as well.”

Kirsten’s panic soared. “No, no, please! They can’t separate us!”

“Just listen. Don’t make yourself upset. The doctors will examine you in the hospital and keep you under observation, and if they discover that you are fine, you’ll be brought back here to rejoin your sister.”

“Can’t you convince them that I’m fine? I don’t even have a fever—”

“I’m so sorry, but it isn’t up to me. All I can do is explain to you what’s going to happen. There is nothing I can do to change the doctor’s mind. I’m sorry.”

Kirsten covered her face. If only this nightmare would end and she would wake up. After a moment the woman touched Kirsten’s shoulder.

“I will go and talk to your other sister now.”

Kirsten wiped her cheeks. “Please, tell her that I’m fine . . . and tell her not to be scared.”

“I will.”

In spite of all her efforts, Kirsten couldn’t stop crying. They wouldn’t let her walk, carrying her instead down the stairs on a stretcher, out of the immigration building through a rear door, and across the tiny island to a smaller two-story building. Kirsten had never been inside a hospital before.

This living nightmare was growing worse by the hour.
Typhus?
Kirsten had heard of the disease but didn’t know anything about it. Did people die from it? She was frightened half to death for Elin.

Once inside the hospital, Kirsten waited in a cubicle behind white curtains for a long time. A nurse made her undress and put on a nightgown. She waited some more, trying to convince herself to stop crying. It would only make her eyes puffy and her nose run, and they would think that she was sick.

At last a doctor came in to examine her. She made up her mind to talk to him, whether he understood her or not.

“There is really nothing wrong with me at all—as you’ll soon see. I grew up on a farm, so I’ve always been strong and healthy. All of us are. I’ve never even been to a hospital before. We had a doctor in town, of course, and he would come out to the farm when we had the measles or something, but—”

The doctor put his fingers to his lips to shush her, then listened to her chest with his stethoscope. The entire examination was humiliating, but Kirsten would willingly endure anything if only they would let her return to Sofia. When he finished, she looked around for her clothes. Someone had taken them away. She had no choice but to sit on the examination table and wait. It must be close to suppertime by now. Kirsten hadn’t eaten all day. And what would Sofia do? Their food was in their trunk in the baggage room.