Until We Reach Home

  Ludwig took a moment to tighten the bowstrings, then placed the instrument beneath his chin. He played a few tentative notes, adjusting the tuning pegs, then lowered the violin to his lap while he thought for a moment. When he raised it to his chin again, he closed his eyes and began to play.

  A tender, poignant melody poured from the instrument like tears, bathing Sofia in its beauty. She was enraptured. Music and song had once filled her life before God began taking everyone away from her. She had loved listening to the soaring organ music in church, loved singing to the Lord with all her heart. But the song inside her had faded after her mother died and was silenced altogether when she and her sisters left home.

  Now all of the emotions she had felt for the past few months-sorrow, loss, fear, and loneliness-poured from Ludwig's violin. He understood exactly how she felt, better than anyone else did, even her sisters. A wounded place inside her began to heal as he played. She didn't want him to stop. When he finally did, she rested her hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of the sun on his shirt.

  "That was beautiful, Ludwig. Thank you."

  He pointed to the heavens, played a few notes, then pointed up again. He was playing for God. Sofia remembered the verse she had found at random, moments before Ludwig sat down beside her: Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!

  She paged through her Bible to Psalm 66 and pointed to it. He read the verse in his own Bible and a smile spread across his face.

  "More," she said, pantomiming playing. "Please, play more." He smiled shyly and lifted the violin again. He played a variety of melodies for the next thirty minutes, fast and slow, happy and sad. Sofia listened and felt the Lord's presence in Ludwig's songs, just as she had felt His presence in church when Mama was still alive. Sofia's heart silently sang with him.

  "Thank you, Ludwig," she said when at last he seemed to run out of melodies. He looked up at the lowering sun and asked her a question, gesturing as if he were eating. Sofia shook her head. "I don't feel much like eating." The few minutes of joy had faded along with the music, leaving her stomach in turmoil once again.

  Ludwig wrapped his violin and returned it to his bag, then stood and beckoned to her to join him, again making motions as if eating. Maybe he was as lonely as she was. He had been so kind to her. She shouldn't refuse him.

  "All right," she said, standing and smoothing her skirts. "I'll go with you." She lifted her sisters' satchels along with her own, but he quickly took two of them from her, helping her carry them. She followed him through the building's maze of hallways, realizing that she never would have found the dining hall on her own. She had been too upset to pay attention when Mrs. Bjork had given her the tour earlier. She noticed a slight limp in Ludwig's step and how one shoulder seemed to dip a little lower than the other as he walked beside her. No doubt the immigration officials had noticed it, too.

  A crowd had already gathered around the entrance to the dining room, and as soon as the doors opened, the people stampeded inside. Ludwig held Sofia out of the way so she wouldn't get trampled, waiting until the surge ebbed. Then he found two empty places for them at one of the tables.

  The light supper consisted of baked beans, stewed prunes, rye bread, and tea. The waiters also served the small children crackers and milk. Many of the other immigrants reached and grabbed for their food and seemed to have no idea what to do with the white napkins at each place, but Ludwig ate with impeccable manners.

  They went outside again after eating and enjoyed the slightly cooler air. As the evening progressed, they watched the moon rise and the stars light up the sky one by one. The lights of New York City twinkled faintly in the distance across the river. America seemed a long way off. Sofia convinced Ludwig to take out his violin and play it again. Other detainees gathered around as he did, applauding each time he finished a song. Everyone seemed to draw comfort from his music.

  Later, Ludwig walked Sofia to her dormitory, carrying her two extra satchels for her. She glimpsed the room where the men slept as they passed the open door, and it seemed even more crowded than the women's quarters. Both rooms were so noisy that Sofia wondered how she would ever fall asleep among so many strangers. At least in steerage she'd had the comfort of her sisters nearby.

  Ludwig must have seen her hesitation. He laid all of their belongings down and began talking to her in a soothing voice, trying to reassure her. He rested his hands on her shoulders as he looked directly into her eyes, and his own eyes grew very soft. No man had ever stood so close to her or looked at Sofia that way. She liked the shivery feeling it gave her. Elfin would reprimand her for trusting a stranger, but Elfin wasn't there.

  When Ludwig finished his monologue, he pulled out his Bible again and urged her to open hers, turning to Psalm 4:8. Tears filled her eyes as she read the words: I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, 0 Lord, make me dwell in safety.

  "Thank you, Ludwig," she murmured. "You are the kindest man I've ever met ... a godsend."

  He smiled as if he'd understood and said, "Gute Nacht, Sofia." He started to leave, then turned back and asked for her Bible again. He opened it to the book of Ruth and laid the book in the palm of her hand, then placed her other hand on top of it. He was telling her to read it. His own hand, with his long, tapered fingers, covered hers completely.

  "Thank you. I will read it. God natt."

  The only empty bed Sofia could find was a bottom bunk. She wondered how she would ever sleep with two women suspended on top of her mere inches away. She laid her satchels on the bed, but it was impossible to sit down on it. The bunk hanging above it was much too close. She loosened the buttons of her dress but decided not to take it off. She wanted to be able to run out of this airless room if she had to.

  Lines of women took turns washing at the three sinks. The women sleeping in the beds near Sofia smelled as though they had never bathed in their lives. She wondered how long they had been detained there, and if she would smell as bad as they did, in time.

  She sat down on the floor, leaning against her bunk, and opened her Bible to the place that Ludwig had shown her. At first, she couldn't understand why he wanted her to read the book of Ruth. She couldn't find any promises from God in it-only tragedy. But as she continued to read, she slowly began to see that Ruth had also lost many of the people she had loved-her husband, her parents, her family in Moab-everyone except her mother-in-law, Naomi. And Naomi admitted that she was angry and bitter from all of her losses.

  Like Sofia, Ruth also had left her country to start all over again in a new land. Her life proved very difficult at first, but then Ruth's story turned into a love story. A kind, gracious man named Boaz watched over Ruth and later married her. They had a baby. The last verses of the book revealed that Ruth's baby was an ancestor of King David, the composer of so many beautiful psalms. God had been with Ruth, turning her losses into joy. And hope.

  "Thank you, Ludwig," she whispered.

  A matron turned off the lights for the night. As Sofia climbed onto her narrow bunk, groping in the dark, she felt utterly alone. Everything in her life had been stripped away-her parents, her home, her countryand now she'd lost her sisters, as well. But when she closed her eyes to pray, she knew that God was with her in the darkness.

  ubapfer 6. ieen

  KIRSTEN AWOKE THE next morning in the hospital ward, dismayed to see that the room was real and not simply a bad dream. Her stomach seethed with nausea the way it had aboard the ferry during the height of the storm. Worry was doing this to her-and who wouldn't be upset? She had awakened to a nightmare. She was alone and afraid-afraid for Sofia and for Elin and for herself. She had no one to talk to. No one could understand a word she said.

  The nurses passed around trays of food, setting one in front of Kirsten. But as the aroma of boiled eggs rose to her nostrils, the smell made her gag. She pushed the plate away, covering her mouth to avoid throwing up. A nurse rushed over to her. The woman held the plate of eggs out to Kirsten as if insisting that she eat
them. Kirsten's stomach turned inside out. She couldn't help retching.

  "I can't eat," she said when the sickness passed. "Please, I just want to get out of here and go back to my sisters."

  They took away the food and sent in a doctor to examine her. He probed her abdomen, pressing down on it in several places, then listened with a special instrument. When he finished, Kirsten lay in bed, trying to pray. She remembered the Lord's Prayer from church and recited it over and over as the long morning passed.

  Finally, the interpreter from the Swedish Immigrant Aid Society came to speak with her again. "How are you today, Miss Carlson?" she asked.

  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 can I 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 Elfin and Sofia? What would she tell them? Elfin 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. S
he 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. Elfin 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.