FINALLY, JOE HAD written! Well, sort of.
Dear Toni all is fine here inkluding with Miss Hazelton and she says the rest of the seven are good to. I told her you got a place to stay and work. We are real proud. You keep looking for your folks and keep your nose cleen. Don’t be scared of nothing. You got the stuff girl.
Your friend,
Joe
I had to print all my letters to him. He had more trouble with handwriting. Come to think of it, he struggled with printing as well, but I knew he’d eventually get it by sounding out the words as best he could.
Dear Joe,
I miss you very, very much. Thank you for telling me the news about the Seven. I have heard from Betty, and I am going to write her in Kingston real soon and then I will write to the others one by one, as soon as I get over being such a dope about how I left.
Should I tell him I was Jewish now? That I had pretty much found my father and even had a brother? What should I tell him about Grady?
Mrs. Grady Vespucci is my landlady, and she is wonderful. In a weird way, Grady is like Mrs. Hazelton. She is showing me how to “be” in the city. She looks like a movie star and everybody loves her, including my employer, Big Bob. Well, Big Bob especially, I think. There is a real professor who rooms in the house, and he gives me books to read. He says that he has taken it upon himself to further my education and is convinced that I should attend university! Isn’t that unbelievable? They are both really nice but very different from anyone I have ever met. Actually, every single person in Toronto is different from anyone I have ever met.
Should I tell him about Cassidy? I’d had my eyes peeled at the entrance for the past couple of nights. I was crazy disappointed when he didn’t show. Maybe it was for the best. A man like Cassidy was likely in the market for a bride. And as thrilling as I found him, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready for marriage yet.
A kindly gentleman suggested that I might find out some information about my mother from the Yorkville Public Library. I’ve already been once. The library is a fancy place, and it’s run by a very elegant man, Mr. Kenyatta, who is an actual African from Kenya! His voice is like music. Mr. Kenyatta has shown me how to use something called a microfiche, and I am looking through death notices in the newspapers, one by one from 1950 onward, for Halina Royce. It’s awful. Sometimes I get a little blue, but then I just listen to your radio and I get myself right again. Sort of like back home, eh?
The letter was getting too long. Joe had a saturation point when it came to words, and I might have just hit it. Besides, I still wanted to run to the library before my shift.
Well, write me soon and tell me the news of the others. I am so happy that Mrs. Hazelton is feeling better. Please send my regards to her. Don’t worry, I am doing great.
I miss you very much,
Your Toni
Aside from the Purple Onion and my room at 75 Hazelton, the library was my favorite place. I felt safe there. When I arrived I marched straight over to Mr. Kenyatta. I knew how to operate the microfiche machine and where it was and everything, I just liked hearing him talk.
“Good afternoon, Miss Toni.” Big smile. “May I presume that your exploration continues?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Kenyatta. I’m ready to resume my inquiries.” Mr. Kenyatta was one of the few people who didn’t tease me for the way I talked. Not only that, but I pretty much understood everything he said. Maybe it was because we were both immigrants to this strange land.
I sat at that stupid machine for almost two hours.
Nothing.
I dragged my bleary-eyed self over to Mr. Kenyatta. “Nothing.”
“It is as I feared, Miss Toni.” He nodded gravely. “I too have been trying to assist by reviewing the smaller newspapers. I have not been able to find any relevant obituaries thus far. They are not perfect indicators, however…”
“Like, she could have left Toronto and died somewhere else, right?”
“That is certainly a possibility.” He nodded again. “However, it may also indicate that Halina Royce is alive and that the next leg of your research would involve locating her current whereabouts.”
Alive?
I had never really considered that. Not in all these years. Why not? I felt like I was under water.
Alive?
“Miss Toni?”
“Yes? Geez, look at the time. I’ve got to get to work. Thank you so much, Mr. Kenyatta. I’m very grateful for all your help. I’ll be back soon.”
Alive?