Until We Reach Home (19 page)

Tears filled Kirsten’s eyes at the familiar sound of her own language. “I’m fine. Please tell the doctors that I’m fine. I just need to find my sisters. Sofia must be frantic by now. She has always been so fearful and shy. She needs me! Can you please ask the nurses where my clothes are?” She tried to swing her feet out of bed, but Mrs. Bjork held up her hand, stopping her.

“Wait. They want you to remain in bed, please.”

“Why? Did they tell you why I have to stay here?”

The woman looked down at the sheaf of papers in her hand, then said, “Yesterday you told me you have another sister, Elin Carlson?”

“Yes. Is she all right? Where is she?”

“She’s here in this hospital in another ward. They’ve determined that she is ill with typhus.”

“Typhus! Oh no!” Fear for Elin made Kirsten’s stomach twist into knots.

“As I mentioned yesterday, there were several confirmed cases of typhus on your ship.”

“Is-is she going to be all right?”

“She’s young and strong and otherwise healthy. The doctors are confident that she will recover, but it will take some time. They want to make certain that you don’t contract it, too.”

“But I have to get back to Sofia. Please . . . where are my clothes?”

“They are being fumigated. Typhus is transmitted by lice, which can inhabit your clothing.”

“Oh no . . . please . . .” Kirsten groaned. She didn’t want to start crying, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like a prisoner. There was nothing wrong with her. “When they finish checking my clothes, then will they let me go? My sister Sofia is all alone and she needs me. She’s only sixteen.”

“I explained the situation to Sofia yesterday. I’m sure she’ll be fine. She is staying in the dormitory in the immigration center and will be fed in the dining room.”

“This is a nightmare,” Kirsten groaned. “We’re so far from home, and we need to get to our uncle’s house in Chicago. Why is this happening?” She couldn’t stop crying. She was aware that the interpreter was watching her, waiting for her to control her tears. She dried them with her fists. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . . but I need to know how long it’s going to be until I can leave.”

“They’ve decided to keep you for a few more days—”

“No!” she wailed. “No, they can’t!”

The hospital ward grew very quiet at her outburst. Several of the nurses shushed her.

“The doctors are very concerned that you can’t keep down any food,” Mrs. Bjork said softly.

“Well, it’s their fault! They’re making me upset by keeping me here. It’s no wonder I can’t eat. And I’m worried sick about my sisters. Can’t you tell the doctors that? Tell them if they let me leave here I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll tell them,” she promised, “but I doubt if it will do any good. Maybe if you tried to eat something . . .”

Kirsten did her best to eat all her meals that day, to look healthy, to show them that she was fine. It did no good. The doctors kept her in the hospital for another long day, and an even longer night.

Poor Elin. And poor Sofia. She must be frantic by now.
Please, God, let them be all right.

Kirsten still felt nauseated the next morning, and the doctor examined her again. If only he would return her clothes and let her go back to Sofia. She waited all day, and by the time the interpreter came to speak to her, it was late in the day. Kirsten felt like screaming.

“The doctors say that your sister Elin is doing much better,” Mrs. Bjork told Kirsten. “And your sister Sofia is fine. I spoke with her this morning. She is being well taken care of at the detention center.”

“When are the doctors going to let me out of here?”

“Most likely in a few days. They need to make sure you’re getting adequate nourishment and feeling stronger. But, Miss Carlson, there’s something else we need to talk about.” She lowered her voice, even though they both knew that no one else in the hospital ward could understand a word they said. Kirsten’s stomach clenched in dread.

“What’s wrong?”

“The doctor who examined you believes . . . um . . . that you are expecting a child.”

“What?”
Kirsten went cold all over. It was the same shocked reaction she’d felt when Elin first told her that their father had fallen through the ice and drowned. A child? They must be mistaken. “No . . . no, that can’t be true. . . .”

The woman waited patiently as Kirsten continued to shake her head in denial. She refused to believe it. The doctors had confused her with another patient. Married people had babies—not unmarried girls like herself.

“It’s not possible,” she insisted. But as the woman calmly waited, the truth slowly penetrated Kirsten’s shock. One time when she had been alone in the woods with Tor they had been swept away. Just once . . . or maybe twice . . . but that was all. They loved each other. Tor had assured her that it was all right for them to be together because they loved each other. He had said they would be married someday.

“It-it can’t be true,” Kirsten murmured.

But it was.

In an instant her body went from cold to hot. She felt her face flush with shame. The interpreter looked away, as if embarrassed for her. She cleared her throat.

“I know it’s hard, Miss Carlson, and I’m not passing judgment on you. Neither is the doctor. But I’m afraid you need to accept the truth.”

Kirsten covered her face and wept. The woman waited in silence until Kirsten finally controlled her sobbing. “I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled. “Are you sure that I’m . . . ? Oh, what in the world am I going to do?”

“I can’t advise you what to do, Miss Carlson, but here is the situation, and please listen carefully: An unmarried woman who is expecting a baby won’t be allowed into the country. The immigration officials will declare her ‘LPC’—likely to become a public charge—since she has no husband to support her. She will be sent back to her homeland. Do you understand?”

Kirsten nodded as her tears continued to fall. She didn’t know if that was good news or bad. Tor would have to marry her if she returned home to Sweden carrying his child. But she couldn’t face the thought of traveling all the way back there. And what about Elin and Sofia? What would she tell them? Elin wouldn’t want to go back to Sweden, but Sofia would—and then the three of them would be separated. They would all be punished for Kirsten’s sin.

“W-will my sisters have to return home, too?”

“That depends. Single women and unaccompanied married women aren’t allowed to leave Ellis Island unless a male family member comes to claim them. That’s true in all cases, not just under these circumstances. I’m surprised this wasn’t explained to you.”

“My uncle Lars paid our way and made all of the arrangements. He lives in Chicago. My sisters and I have train tickets from here to Chicago, and we plan to go there as soon as we leave New York. Everything is paid for. We’re going to live with him. Our uncle is going to take care of us.”

“I see. That’s good. Once your sister receives medical clearance, she will be allowed to take a train directly there.”

“But I won’t be?”

“Well, again, that depends. For instance, if the baby’s father is waiting in Chicago, I’m sure you would be cleared.” Kirsten started to speak, but the woman stopped her. “No, just listen. It’s up to you to decide what you would like me to tell the doctors and other officials. I’m only the interpreter, you see. I don’t need to know your personal information. But if the baby’s father comes forward to support you, that would be different.”

Kirsten knew that lying was wrong. She also knew that what she and Tor had done was wrong. She had no excuse for getting carried away with him except that she had loved him—and she had believed that he loved her in return. But now what should she do?

The only solution was to return to Sweden. Elin and Sofia could decide for themselves what they would do. Kirsten had to write a letter to Tor and explain her circumstances and tell him to quickly arrange for their marriage. He needed to take care of her and their baby.

Their baby.
Kirsten couldn’t believe it.

“If we aren’t allowed into America, how quickly will we be sent home?”

“Right away. If you are refused for medical reasons, you will be put on the next ship from the White Star Line that is returning to Europe.”

Kirsten’s baby couldn’t be more than a month along. People in the village would never have to know that it was conceived out of wedlock. Tor wouldn’t even have to tell his father.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” the woman said when Kirsten hesitated. “I’ll be back in a few days, when the doctors are ready to release you, and you can tell me then what your plans are.”

“Could you . . . I mean . . . I need to send a letter to Sweden right away and explain about . . . you know . . .” She still couldn’t comprehend that she was going to have Tor’s baby. It didn’t seem real.

“Would you like to send a telegram? It’s much faster.”

The arrival of a telegram from America would be big news in their tiny village. Kirsten imagined everyone in Magnusson’s store gathering around to read it, and she blushed with shame.

“No, I think a letter is better. Do you know where I can get postage stamps and things?”

“I’ll tell the nurses to find you some paper and a pen. And I’ll bring an overseas stamp the next time I come.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be back when they are ready to release you.”

Kirsten lay back against the pillows. The ordeal had exhausted her. Could she really be expecting a child? What would she tell her sisters? She wanted to bury her face in her pillow in humiliation at the thought of how she had disgraced them. First Papa had dishonored their family by killing himself, and now this. Kirsten had not only ruined her own life, but she probably had ruined Elin’s and Sofia’s lives, too.

She couldn’t tell them the truth. She couldn’t. She would make up a reason why she couldn’t get medical clearance.

In the meantime, she would contact Tor and tell him that she was returning home.
I’m going to have your baby, Tor, and I don’t know what to do,
she would write.

She imagined him receiving her letter in his father’s store, tearing open the envelope, reading the news. He would stand up to his father and explain why he had to marry Kirsten. He would do the right thing—wouldn’t he?

Chapter Seventeen

S
OFIA FOLLOWED THE
other women out of the dormitory and down to the dining hall for breakfast, hoping she would see her new friend, Ludwig Schneider, again. When she recalled meeting him the day before her heart began to speed up—not with fear, for once, but with anticipation. And there he was, standing outside the door, waiting for her—a head taller than most of the other immigrants. He smiled when he saw her.

“
Guten Morgen,
Sofia.”

She couldn’t help smiling in return. “
God morgon
. I hope you haven’t been waiting a long time. And I hope there is plenty of food left. I’m very hungry this morning.”

He babbled a reply and led her into the crowded dining room. The other immigrants snatched and grabbed for their food again, as if they might never have another meal, but Ludwig seemed to know the best places to sit and what to do to get served, and he made sure they both had plenty to eat. She guessed from the way Ludwig handled himself and the friendly way that he and the waiters got along that he must have been detained here for quite some time. She wished she could ask him how long.

After breakfast Sofia followed Ludwig upstairs, and he showed her a crowded rooftop where detainees were allowed to go for fresh air. A few minutes later she saw the interpreter she had talked to yesterday walking toward her. Sofia’s stomach rolled over in dread, but Mrs. Bjork smiled pleasantly, relieving some of Sofia’s fear.

“Do you have good news about my sisters, I hope?”

“Your sisters must remain hospitalized, I am sorry to say. But their condition seems to be stable.”

“Thank God. I’ve been praying for them to get well. How much longer will they be in the hospital?”

“The doctors aren’t certain. But I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

It seemed strange to hear Swedish again after listening to the babble of incomprehensible languages all around her—even stranger to speak it herself to someone who could understand.

“If I wrote a letter to Elin, would you be able to deliver it for me? I know that she must be very worried about me being here all alone, and I want her to know that I’m all right.”

“I could make sure that it gets delivered. I have to go downstairs to the Registry Room to translate this morning. They are expecting more Swedish passengers to arrive today.” She nodded her head toward the river, where the first of countless ferries had already lined up with boatloads of immigrants. “But I will find you before I leave the island this afternoon and take your letter to her if it’s ready.”

“Thank you so much. I know it will relieve Elin’s mind. She worries about Kirsten and me so much.”

“If there is any other way that the Aid Society can help you,” Mrs. Bjork said as she walked slowly toward the stairs again, “please be sure to let me know.”

“I-I do have a question,” Sofia said, following behind her. “I met someone who has been kept here in detention for a long time, and I’m wondering what’s going to happen to him.”

“People who are refused entrance can take their case to the Board of Appeals, which meets periodically. Perhaps he is waiting to do that. Or, if his plea has been refused already, he is probably waiting for the next ship that is returning to his home country.”

“He has been very kind to me, helping me and making everything easier for me. I want to thank him but I think he is speaking German. Could you—”

“I’m sorry, but I only speak Swedish and English.”

“Could I write him a note and maybe you could translate it into English, and then he could give it to another translator, who could change it into German and—”

Mrs. Bjork smiled but shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that would be a long, laborious process. And I’m not really authorized to do things like that.”

Sofia glanced over her shoulder to where Ludwig waited for her. She wanted to tell him so many things, and she saw the same eagerness in his eyes whenever they tried to converse. “But . . . isn’t there some way—”