| |
October, 1905
Little Elsa was tired of standing.
For relief, she lifted one foot after the other. It helped a little. She tugged at Sonja’s hand.
”Are we in a line?” she whispered.
“I think so.”
She tried to see around her parents. There hardly seemed to be any order to the throng. Though obscured by the tall bodies around her, the room was huge.
”Why is everyone pushing?”
Her father turned and pointed an irritated finger at her. ”Sei ruhig!” The stress was evident on his sweating face. “You do not need to understand.”
Her mother turned back toward them, her face placid and determined. Little Anton fidgeted restlessly in her arms. The baby had been coughing since they came off the ship early that morning. “There is nothing we can do but wait. None of us know how long it will be.”
Elsa hung her head and dropped imperceptibly back from her parents. She hoped they would reach wherever they were going soon. The long voyage had been frightening. So was this strange ordeal. She wished they were back in Germany.
She felt Sonja squeeze her hand and glanced up. At least Sonja still glowed with excitement. Elsa felt encouraged.
Above the tall people around her, Elsa could see the high windows in the walls, foggy from the condensation of damp bodies and ocean air trapped in the stuffy chamber. A few fans spun near the ceiling, but they didn’t seem to do much good. The room smelled just like the ship. Pressing through the queue, her eyes dropped back to the dirty wood floor, caked with a thin layer of dust and salt.
Finally, the family reached the desk at the front of the line. Elsa’s legs ached. She just wanted to sit down.
A man in a tight uniform and funny cap looked at the papers her father handed him. His mustachioed face was void of expression as he glanced at each member of the family, then at their set of papers. Elsa felt sorry for him. They would soon be done here and on their way into the city. But he had to sit here every day, smelling this smell and dealing with people who didn’t want to see him.
He handed the papers back to her father, Tobias. No words had been exchanged. Then he pointed to another line on his right. Elsa thought she would cry.
That first glimpse of New York from the ship this morning already seemed so long ago. Elsa remembered how the sun had risen on the departed eastern horizon, brilliantly lighting the iron buildings of the city. Her view had been brief, as taller passengers quickly enveloped her, abuzz with the excitement of a long journey’s end. After that thrilling moment, this waiting felt all the more tedious. She should have known better than to have gotten her hopes up.
Over the next hour, the family endured a series of medical examinations. Men and women came through the lines to check the immigrants for various physical ailments. Elsa wondered whether they were doctors. They didn’t look like doctors.
Suddenly a gruff-looking man was forcing her mouth open and inserting a stick. Elsa choked as he forced her tongue down for what seemed a very long time. It didn’t actually hurt so much as it repulsed her. Finally he released her mouth with a grunt.
He performed the same task with the same stick on her family members, then motioned to another of the officials. Elsa couldn’t understand what they were talking about, but they seemed concerned. The first man kept pointing at the baby, who couldn’t stop coughing. One of them took a piece of chalk and made a mark on each of their sleeves.
Each subsequent examination went poorly. Their education and skills were deemed unimpressive. This surprised Elsa. She and Sonja had both attended a few years of school. Her father had been a successful cart maker in Germany. But it seemed cart makers weren’t in great demand in New York. Elsa could sense her father’s anger and frustration.
As the grueling day came to an end, the Schuller family was shown to a room with two bunks. Elsa knew their day at Ellis Island hadn’t gone well. Her eyes kept returning to the chalk mark on her sleeve. It worried her. What did it mean?
It felt good to finally lie down, but Elsa couldn’t sleep. She and Sonja lay on the top bunk while their parents and the baby lay below.
”Isn’t it wonderful to be in America?” Sonja whispered, loud enough for Elsa but not their parents to hear.
”I do not like it.”
“We will leave this place soon. You and I will have to work at first, but soon we will go to school again. I know that is what you want.”
A vigorous infant cough sounded below. Elsa waited until Anton was finished. “I hope so.”
But all she could think of was the comfort of their little house in outside Hamburg. For the first time, she wondered whether maybe she didn’t want to be in America. She had no choice about it. But she wondered why they were here, and why only now, after Anton was born. Life hadn’t seemed so bad in Germany.
Elsa decided not to dwell on her worries and chose instead to dream about this new life. She imagined the education she would get in America, and dreamed of the kind of woman she could become. She had heard so many grand stories and hoped some of them were true. She lay awake long after Sonja relaxed into sleep.
The next day there were no inspections. Elsa didn’t know what they were waiting for. She grew restless and could tell that her parents were restless as well. While the time on the ship had been long and wearisome, at least they were always moving this way. One had only to go out on the deck and look at the passing water to feel the progress. There was no progress now.
Late in the afternoon, Elsa slipped outside. She walked around to the back of the Registry Room and sat on the ground with her back against the wall of the building.
The gravel sloped down from her seat to the lapping water. The water here was gray, just like the sky. Even the buildings of New Jersey across the water took on the color of the gloomy afternoon.
People passed by where she sat but didn’t seem to notice her. She knew she wasn’t an interesting child to look at.
Elsa’s expectations for this journey had been smaller than the others’. She sometimes enjoyed letting her dreams carry her away, as she had last night before falling asleep. Usually she forced herself not to. It was too painful to hope for things that never came about. Would their lives really be better in New York? Was this all worth it? It had terrified her to leave behind everything she knew except her family. Yet she watched it all with wonder. It was too strange to even feel real.
”I am surprised I found you out here.”
Startled by the voice, Elsa looked up smiling at her sister. Sonja slid down the wall to sit beside her.
”You found a good spot. Look.” Sonja pointed across the bay. Elsa brought her head close to her sister’s arm, as if there were something in particular to see on the adjacent shore.
”What do you want when you are older?” Sonja asked.
”Ich weiss nicht.” Elsa realized that Sonja had been pointing at their future.
”Do you think about what you will become in America?”
Elsa closed her eyes. There was a gentle breeze coming in from the water. It felt refreshing against her eyelids.
She had thought about it. She’d been thinking about it just then. But she didn’t know how to put her thoughts into words.
”I think about it all the time,” Sonja said. “I will have a little house in the country, with a green lawn and some trees.”
Elsa smiled at the image. The thought of warm green lawns was so enticing. It had been a long time since she had sat on grass. She breathed deeply, wishing she could smell freshly cut grass, but only the scents of the sea filled her nostrils.
”My house will be in a town,” said Elsa. “Not like Hamburg. A smaller town like where Oma and Opa have the farm.” She paused.
“I want some children.”
“How many?”
“Five or six.”
“That’s a lot.”
Elsa frowned. “I suppose I will need a husband, too.”
Her sister laughed. “Yes, Elsa, I think you will need a husband. Pick a nice one who will help you with your five or six children.”
“How many children do you want?” asked Elsa.
”Two would be enough.”
“What sort of husband do you want?”
“One with a house in the country.”
They burst out laughing, and neither could stop for a while. It felt good to laugh.
After a few minutes, Sonja said, “I know it will happen.”
“How?”
“We have always been taught that God is looking out for our best interests. You do believe that, right?”
Elsa nodded.
”And that is why he wants to give me my house in the country.”
Elsa said nothing. Sonja’s logic didn’t make sense to her, but she assumed her older sister was right. She always assumed this.
Sonja’s dreams had always been large and grand. She had shared them with Elsa many times, both on the ship and before they left Germany. Elsa’s dreams were smaller. She had always expected to accomplish a little less than her sister.
She didn’t mind this. In fact, she eagerly embraced the prospect of following in her sister’s shadow. It felt more comfortable than to think of forging ahead in the world alone. Sonja had taught her to dream. She expected Sonja would also teach her to achieve. She wouldn’t mind following in her sister’s path to her own, less impressive destiny.
Elsa glanced toward her sister, then back toward the gray water. Perhaps her dreams were less impressive than her sister’s, but she was more comfortable with her own dreams. Sonja was counting on too much—the will of God and the luck of a future man with means. Elsa wanted dreams she could work for and bring about herself.
What would really happen to them once they got into the city? They would be just as poor, and now also hampered by unfamiliar culture and language. Even the smallest dreams would be hard-won.
”We should go back inside,” said Sonja. ”Mother will be preparing dinner soon.”
Elsa doubted much preparation was needed for the inevitable canned meat and salt crackers. But she was hungry and had grown accustomed to the meal.
Together they walked through the registry room toward their bunks in the hospital dormitory. Sonja took Elsa’s hand as they pushed through the throng. People were packed so tightly together that one could hardly move, yet it was a lonely place.
As they neared their two bunks, Elsa thought she heard animated voices. Soon she realized with surprise that they were speaking German. Two officials stood with her father.
Sonja grabbed her arm. “Warte mal.”
The sisters slipped behind the next set of bunks and watched.
”The boy has a fever.” It was their father’s voice. ”He needs a doctor. Without help he may die.”
“What is one baby to me?” said the official in poor German. “I would rather he die here than go and infect Americans.”
The officials weren’t taller than their father, but held their heads in a way that suggested they knew they were in control. It seemed to Elsa that only one of the two understood German.
“He is not contagious,” their father argued. “I am not sick. My wife and daughters are not sick. You are not sick. Just bring a doctor, please. I will give you anything to let us into the city.”
The man translated this last comment to his associate, who grinned maliciously.
“What could you give us?” asked the one in German. ”Your daughters?”
The other man said something in English, and they both laughed loudly. Elsa was almost glad she didn’t understand.
They left, walking right past Elsa and Sonja, the non-German speaker glancing indifferently at the sisters.
Despite the ambivalence of the Ellis Island officials, a doctor finally came to see the baby later that day. His fever was rising; Nina had to force him to eat. The doctor left without a word. He obviously couldn’t speak German.
Days continued to pass, one by one, each more tedious than the one before.
Elsa could hardly stand the wait. She wished her father would do something, but he had never been that kind of man. This journey had been the only ambitious thing he’d ever done.
Where was he now? Hopefully he was working to get them released from this place, but she doubted it.
Elsa sat down next to her mother on the lower bunk. The baby was mercifully asleep in her arms, spared for now from his coughing fits.
”Mother, why did we come to America?” she asked.
Nina looked at her daughter with surprise. Elsa immediately bit her lip. She was not supposed to ask that kind of a question. Fortunately, her mother didn’t seem in a mood to reprimand her.
”There are opportunities in this country that we would not have had in Germany.”
“Father’s uncle is waiting for us. Is that right?”
“Perhaps. Your father wrote to him, but we left before receiving a reply.”
“Will Father find better work here?”
“We hope so.”
Elsa didn’t expect to be told anything more. But after a short sigh, her mother continued, speaking more freely than Elsa was accustomed to.
”I know that our little house in Germany seems better now than what we came to, but life was hard for us there. We tried to protect you and Sonja from knowing that. Neither your father nor I had any inheritance. Your father did well enough with his cart shop, but what could you and Sonja hope for from that? You would have had to marry, and that is not always certain.”
“I will learn to speak English,” Elsa said. ”When we go to school in America I will study so hard. I will learn to read and write, then I will learn a trade.”
Her mother smiled. “I hope we can give you that opportunity. All of us will have to work very hard.”
“I like to work.”
“Yes, you are a good worker when you feel like it. You need to learn to work just as hard when you do not feel like it.”
Elsa watched her mother’s eyes look out across the dormitory beds, then back at her.
”You are growing up, mein liebchen,” she said. “I can see that you will look a lot like me when you are older. You will be strong but not pretty. Sonja will have an easier time marrying than you will.”
Elsa had tried to imagine herself growing up beautiful even though with each year the mirror made another destiny ever more clear to her. Her mother had evidently decided she was old enough to face the truth.
”But you married Father,” Elsa said.
“I was fortunate. What your father wanted from a wife, I was able to give. I have further been fortunate that I have a husband who is not cruel to me and who does not drink or cheat. The simple life with my children has been enough for me.”
Elsa listened with surprise. This was the most candidly her mother had ever spoken about her own marriage.
”Would that be enough for you?”
Elsa didn’t answer. Both remained silent for a long time. Finally Elsa voiced the silent question that had been on both of their minds for months.
”Why did we not come to America until Anton was born?”
Her mother took a long, drawn breath. “I do not know.”
Elsa knew. Her resentment toward her father grew. He hadn’t wanted this opportunity for his daughters. If he had, they would have made the journey years ago. He’d only wanted it for his son. Had he ever even wanted his girls to begin with?
”Pray for your brother, Elsa. He cannot die. You remember how sick I got when he was born. Because of that I can bear no more children. For that reason, we all need Anton to live.”
With a start and a cough, the baby woke up.
Elsa understood her mother more clearly than if she had answered her pointed question. Tobias Schuller had his son after all these years. This had sparked the impulsive journey to the land of opportunity. If Anton were to die now, there was no telling how her father would respond.
––––––––
Elsa knew exactly when Anton died.
She didn’t need to hear his breathing stop, to hear her mother begin to weep, or even to see him go limp in her arms. She would never forget the keen wave of death in that moment.
They were swaying on the water again. The tall buildings grew larger as their barge approached the Battery. After more than a week on Ellis Island, they were finally allowed to enter the city.
It was too late.
Elsa rose from her seat and walked a short distance away. She didn’t want to hear her parents’ cries. She had grown to love her brother in his short life—how could she help but love him? Yet she also had so much cause to resent him. So while she was sad for his death, she didn’t cry.
Anton’s death would affect them all. The loss of a loved one hurt, but this loss would run deeper. With Anton dead, her father no longer cared about America. Elsa was only just beginning to comprehend how her brother had been the only glue keeping the family from descending into chaos.