Alina went back to the bench on which Johan was sitting and gently wiped hiscut with the wet fabric.
To Alina’s surprise, the following day, the Russian came over to her bunk to find out how Johan was doing.
“Let me pour a little more vodka on that cloth,” he said.
He certainly was handsome. She watched him as he wet the torn piece of Alina’s blouse. Then he bent to look at Johan’s arm. Johan looked at him skeptically.
“It’s alright. I’m only trying to help,” the Russian said. “My name is Ugo Blok, but my papers say I am Oliver Block.” He smiled at them both.
“My name is Adelheid Strombeck,” Alina said, remembering the name on her papers. And this is Johan Strombeck.”
“Nice to meet you both. Your arm looks pretty bad.”
Johan nodded. “I’m really not feeling well at all.”
“You’re flushed. You probably have a fever too. Here.” Ugo handed the bottle to Johan. “Take a drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Alina said.
He smiled. His smile was genuine, and for the first time since Johan had been hurt, Alina felt safe on the ship.
“You’re not German?” Johan asked.
“I’m from Russia.”
“I thought so,” Alina said. “My father was from Russia, he had the same accent.”
“You speak German pretty well,” Johan said.
“Yes, my father taught me. He did a lot of trading with other countries, so he spoke several languages. I helped him in his business, and so I had to learn them too.”
“Are you Jewish?” Alina asked.
Johan gave Alina a questioning look, as if to say, why would you ever bring that up? “Excuse her, please. She talks out of turn sometimes,” Johan said.
“It’s just that my parents are Russian. You have the same accent as they do. And well, I remembered how you fought those boys so gallantly when they called you a Jew … that I thought you might be Jewish,” Alina said.
“No, I am not Jewish. But, I don’t like to see anyone persecuted. I am going to America to get away from all of the persecution in Russia. I want to go to a land where everyone has equal opportunity.”
“That’s quite noble of you,” Johan said, mustering a half smile. “Adelheid isn’t Jewish either, but we feel the same way about persecution.” Johan gave Alina a threatening look.
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, if you need any more vodka just come over and ask,” Ugo said. Then he got up, took his bottle, and left.
“Thank you,” Alina said, loudly enough for him to hear as he walked down the hallway.
Ugo turned back. He looked at her, then he nodded and continued on his way.
Alina, as gently as possible, covered the open sore on Johan’s arm with another piece of cloth that she tore from the bottom of her skirt. Johan winced in pain. When she looked at him closely she saw that his face had turned dark red and was hot to the touch, but his feet and hands were like ice.
“Johan, the vodka should help.”
“Alina, you have to be careful what you say to people. Like that man. You don’t know who he is or how he feels about Jews. Don’t ever give anyone the vaguest idea that you might be Jewish. I don’t know how people are going to treat Jews in America. But there is no need for you to bring attention to yourself. You might not get into America if they suspect you are Jewish. You might be sent back to Germany. Please … be more cautious of what you say.”
“I didn’t tell him I was Jewish.”
“Don’t even mention the word Jewish. Do you understand me? Please?”
“Yes, Johan. I am sorry. You’re right. You went through so much trouble to get me these papers and to get us out of Germany. I’ll be more careful of what I say from now on.”
Johan smiled at Alina. He reached up and touched her face. But she could see how their conversation had tired him out, and she knew he was weak and very ill. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” she said, getting up and walking away. “I’ll just be sitting by the table right over there.” She pointed a few feet away.
The ship would be pulling into the New York harbor within a day or so. “No. I have to talk to you while I still have the strength, Alina.”
“You need to rest. You’ll feel better when you get up. We can talk then.”
“Alina, we have to talk now. I’m getting weaker every day. Please sit down and listen. I don’t have the energy to argue.”
She sat back down on the bed beside him and took his hand in hers. “Yes, Johan, go on. I’m listening.”
“We have to face facts, Alina. I think I might be dying.”
“No … no … you’re going to get better. The alcohol will kill the infection, you’ll see. You’ll be fine. We’ll get married just like we planned. You can’t die, Johan. You can’t leave me all alone in America … Johan.”
“Shhh … Alina … listen. This is important. There are things you don’t know about me, and now I must tell you before I no longer can tell you.” He took a labored breath and she could see how hard it was for him to speak, but he continued, “Listen closely, this is important. My mother was married in Germany, she had two children, Lotti and myself. But neither Lotti, nor my father, ever knew the truth about me. The man who raised us was not my real father. My biological father was an American. I didn’t even know this about myself until my mother was dying. God forgive me, I had put her into a home. I couldn’t take care of her anymore. Her illness was taking the very life out of me. I wonder if maybe this cut happened to me as a punishment for abandoning her when she was old and needed my help. It was wrong, Alina. I knew it at the time, but I couldn’t bear to take care of her anymore. I am ashamed, but I just wasn’t strong enough. I still went to the home to see her every day. But at least I was able to work. When she was at home I couldn’t leave her even for an hour. Oh God, forgive me for what I did to her.
“But at least I was there with her when she was dying. That was when I learned the truth about who I am.” His eyes were glassy and he was rambling. Alina didn’t know what to say or do, so she just sat and squeezed his hand, letting him know she was listening. “Oh, Alina, it was terrible. She was a skeleton. Half the woman she was when I was a child. As she lay there dying in that home she grabbed on to my arm. Her eyes were so bright when she told me the truth. She said that she’d had an affair with an American who was married to a woman in America. He’d gone home to his wife and she was left behind pregnant with me. She was married to the man who raised me, and he had no idea that I was not his son. But she contacted my real father by mail and threatened to come to America if he didn’t send her money. He sent her money for years, and for years she put it all away for me. She saved it for me, Alina, and look at how I treated her. I deserve everything that is happening to me. Right before she died she told me where to find the money, where she had buried it in the house, and along with it she’d left my father’s address. She’d left it in a small wooden cigar box. I kept the box with me, but I kept it closed. You see, I never planned to use the money. The thought of using it made me sick because of what I did to her. But then, when we needed a sponsor to get us into the United States, I could see no other way out of Germany. So, I contacted my father. It took him a while to answer. I thought he might ignore my letter. But finally I got mail from him, and he agreed to sponsor us as long as I never contacted him or anyone in his family when we got to America. He also made me promise to leave him alone and stop expecting money from him. I agreed. That is how we got our sponsor. I used most of the money that my mother left me to pay for your papers, our visas, and our passage. What is left is in the bottom of my left shoe. Take it, use it when you need it, but there isn’t much and it won’t last, so try to find work. My father’s address is there with the money, but I doubt he will help you, so I don’t recommend that you go to him unless you are so desperate that you can see no other way. I pray that does not
happen.”
“But, Johan, you can’t die. Please don’t die. I am terrified to be all alone in a strange country. I don’t even speak the language.” Her stomach was turning and she felt sick. Tears began welling up in her eyes.
“I know. Dear God, I know. I am sorry. I never meant for it to be like this …. Never….”
She could no longer hold the tears back. She turned away so that Johan would not see them streaming down her cheeks. She wiped her face with her sleeve then looked back at Johan.
“Try to rest…” she said. She no longer wanted to sit up alone. She wanted to be as close to him as she could for as long as she was able. Alina wanted to spend Johan’s last hours in his arms. Somehow she knew that he was right. Their time together was coming to an end. Alina lay down beside Johan and curled her body into his. The warmth of his arms around her gave her momentary comfort and by some miracle she drifted off to asleep. Alina was not sure how long she slept, but the next thing she knew, everyone was yelling with excitement. “Look, look … there it is … the Statue of Liberty.” They were able to see it through a small porthole in the ship. Alina hated to leave Johan, but she had to see the New York harbor. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She whispered and kissed his cheek. Then she stood up and pushed her way through the crowd to the window. The torch that the lady of liberty held in her hand gleamed like a golden fire in the sun. Alina felt afraid of what lay ahead and excited at the same time.
She went back to her place in bed and cuddled back into Johan.
“Johan…” she whispered. “We’re here.” Alina gently shook his sleeve, but he didn’t move. Then fear rumbled in her stomach. She knew this was coming, and yet she was still horrified to know that it had happened. Gently with the tips of her fingers she touched his face. His skin was cool.. “Johan....” She shook him again, harder this time as if she somehow might change things. But she knew he was dead. She laid her head on his chest and softly wept.
The boat eased into the harbor. Everyone in steerage was gathering their belongings, holding tightly to their children. The noise level was deafening to Alina, who wanted to lay beside Johan and stay safe in his arms, to pretend that he was only sleeping. Everyone started to get off the ship. Alina called out for help, but no one came. The ship’s staff were all busy. She got up and began pushing through the crowds trying to find help. Finally she found one of the crew. He was busy directing people and trying to keep them from pushing and shoving. Alina tugged on his sleeve.
He was a tall man, and he looked down at her.
“My husband died. I have to take his body on shore and have it buried.”
The crew member looked and shook his head. “Sorry Mam. You can’t take a dead body into the United States. You’ll have to leave him behind.”
“I can’t. How can I just leave him?” Alina said.
“You can, because you have to. There is no other choice. There is nothing you can do.” Then he looked at her and she saw that his eyes had become sympathetic. “Alright. Listen. I promise you that he’ll have a proper burial. You go on now. Follow the others and get off the ship.”
She knew he was lying to her. There would be no real burial. Johan’s body would be thrown into the ocean. The thought of it made her feel like collapsing on the floor. But she knew that she couldn’t. She walked back to the cot where Johan’s body lay lifeless. Her heart ached. But Alina knew the time had come to leave Johan and walk into her uncertain future. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Even as she did, she could feel that the life force was gone from him like a flame that had been extinguished on a candle. Still she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Goodbye, Johan. I will miss you, God how I will miss you. And now I can tell you what I was planning to tell you after we were settled in America. I am pregnant, Johan. I am going to have our child. I’ll name the baby for you.”
Chapter 29
Alina had been through a lot in her young life. But she had never been as afraid as she was now. She was alone, all alone. Her family was gone, and now Johan was dead. And here she was in the harbor of a strange country in a city called New York without a friend in the world. With all the turmoil in Germany, she doubted that any letter she wrote would ever reach Lotti, and the last time she’d written to Gilde her letter had been returned. Her parents? Where were they? Were they still alive? Even if she could find anyone, how could she ever keep in contact with them when she had no return address to send with a letter? Where was she going to live? God, help me, she thought. A small voice in her head whispered “Don’t forget to take the money.” With trembling hands she took off Johan’s shoe and removed the small roll of bills. They were in a currency she’d never seen before. But knowing how Johan always planned ahead, she realized she should have known that he would have already converted them to American dollars.
Adelheid Strombeck. She repeated the name softly. I am no longer Alina Margolis. I am Adelheid Strombeck. The name sounded so foreign to her. Oh, Johan she thought. Over the time she knew him, he had become a good friend. She couldn’t say she was madly in love with him.
But she loved him as one loves family. And there was no doubt in her mind that she would miss him terribly. After all, he was the last link she had to Germany and the life she’d once known. The ship was almost empty. It was time to go. There was no point in carrying Johan’s cardboard suitcase with her. He would never need those clothes. Just thinking about his things and remembering how he’d packed them carefully made her want to lay on top of him and weep forever. But there was no time. No time left for weeping. Alina squared her small shoulders and picked up her suitcase that contained everything she had in the world. She found a ship staff member and told him that Johan had died. He reassured her that the crew would dispose of the body. There was nothing more she could do for Johan. Then without any idea of what to do next, she got off the ship at Ellis Island. At that moment Alina Margolis legally became Adelheid Strombeck. Although she would always go back and forth between both names.
The line for inspection was long and moved very slowly. Sweat beaded on her brow and in the armpits of her dress. It trickled down her back as the sun baked into the top of her head until it ached. People stood in the line for inspection, holding babies and possessions. There were whispers among the immigrants. They had heard that if a person looked sick, that person would be sent to the hospital and not be allowed to enter the United States of America. Alina saw the fear in the eyes of the other passengers. She knew that America had slowed her immigration down to almost nothing. It would be very easy for them to return her to Germany, especially if they thought she was unhealthy or Jewish. A woman in line had pricked her finger with a pin and was smearing the blood on her child’s cheeks to make them look rosy. Alina could see that the child was pale, coughing too. What were the chances that the mother and child would be sent back? Alina felt sorry for the mother. But she couldn’t help her; she was alone and frightened herself. Alina’s eyes darted through the crowd until she found the only friend she’d made on the boat. Ugo. He was standing silently, not talking to the others. Alina didn’t really even know him. But she was trembling with fear, and after all, he was a man and a woman needed a man to take care of her. With Johan gone, she was a vulnerable target to any man who had bad intentions. I must be crazy, she thought. This man will think I am insane. But the fear in her stomach made her feel that she needed to cling to someone, or something. She was so desperate. What else could she do? She walked over to Ugo.
“Hello,” she said. “How are you?” Alina suddenly felt foolish and awkward for going over to him.
“How is your husband?” he asked.
“He passed away.” She must have looked so needy. He probably thought of her as pathetic. She should never have gone up to him. What was she thinking? He must have thought she was soliciting herself. She was no common tramp.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Thank you.” Now there was nothing left to say. She stood there feeling ridi
culous with her black suitcase on the ground beside her. Then he smiled and his smile was so genuine that she thought she might cry.
“Adelheid Strombeck isn’t your real name, is it?”
She shook her head. Tears were welling up behind her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry.
“I didn’t think so.”
“My real name is Alina Margolis. But, I have papers that say I am Adelheid Strombeck. And they say that I am a Christian. But I am not. I’m a Jew.” She must have been crazy to tell this man the truth. Johan would have been so angry. What was she thinking? Only that she wanted a friend, a real friend who she could tell the truth.