Alvin says, May don’t you want to come home with us?
I had almost forgotten what his voice sounded like.
No, I say.
Alvin grits his teeth and stomps away.
August Olson, an old sailing mate of Uncle Henry’s, comes to supper the night before the Gleaner’s leaving. August Olson was a captain in the Finnish Navy, and he has a mighty fierce look to him, a real black beard and bright-blue eyes and a big old scar on his cheek where the blade of a crosscut saw sliced it open during a bad storm.
That Captain Jordon is a greedy fool. Any seaman can tell there’s a storm brewing, Uncle Henry says. What’s the point of risking the lives of folks?
I have a mighty bad feeling about the Gleaner, Henry, Mr. Olson says.
I won’t let these nephews of mine on that ship. There’s a storm rolling in, believe me, Uncle Henry says nodding at Ivan and Alvin.
August Olson shakes his head and says, My only son Erik is set on going on it, even though I warned him not to. He’s anxious to get home to his wife and new baby. That boat will never even make it to Knappton between the snags, ice floes, and coming storm, it’s sailing straight to the devil and if I end up burying my son there’ll be a killing, because I, August Olson, will lynch Captain Jordon and fillet him like a salmon.
After supper Alvin, who is again not talking to me, says, We’re going on that boat. We’re not staying a minute longer.
You can’t go, Wilbert says. You heard Uncle Henry, it’s too dangerous.
I don’t care, Alvin says, stubborn. You and May don’t miss us none—you should be happy to see us go. You got so much to See Here In Astoria, he says.
Wilbert tries to convince them to stay, but no matter what he says, those twin brothers of ours don’t listen. They’re like dumb cows who won’t come in during a snowstorm, who just stand there till they’re dead from the cold.
They won’t go, I say. They’re just trying to scare us Wilbert.
I hope so May, he says.
Wilbert and me get up early the next morning intending to go down to the docks and get some breakfast at Mariah’s. I’m lacing my shoes when I hear Wilbert.
Ivan and Alvin are gone! Wilbert shouts.
And sure enough, none of their things are in the bedroom. They must have left very early indeed. I get a bad feeling in the pit of my belly, a feeling that says maybe I was wrong.
Wilbert says, Come on May, we gotta do something. We can’t let them get on that boat.
As we run down the streets, my heart beats faster and faster, I think it will explode. It will be All My Fault if something happens to Ivan and Alvin and I cannot bear the thought of a world without them in it.
Hurry Wilbert! I say. I am praying for a real miracle.
Down at the docks there’s a real big crowd, everyone’s jostling to get on the Gleaner. But the twins are nowhere in sight.
Let’s split up, Wilbert says.
I run around the crowd and try to push my way in but people just push me right on back.
We gotta find them, I say to myself.
And then, near the front of the line, I can see two shiny blond heads bobbing in the mess of people.
There they are, I holler to Wilbert, pushing through the crush.
Alvin has his ticket out and is handing it to a deckhand when I grab him by the arm.
Don’t go, I say.
Why? Alvin says grimly, his face set.
It’s real dangerous, Uncle Henry said so himself, I say.
Ivan glares at me. We’re not scared of anything, he says.
Come on Ivan, Alvin says. Let’s get on board.
I tug hard on Alvin’s arm, I won’t let him go.
Don’t, I plead.
Why shouldn’t we? Alvin says.
He has a hard look in his eyes, a look that is pure stubbornness. I know what I have to do.
’Cause I don’t want to lose anyone else, not even a pair of stubborn brothers I’ve missed every day, I say.
Alvin just stares at me, like he’s not expecting me to say that, to say that I’ve missed him and Ivan.
Well? I say.
Alvin smiles and snatches his ticket back and Ivan grabs me up and gives me a hug.
Don’t get all mushy I say, but even still, I hug him back tight.
We walk home for breakfast. The Gleaner leaves and neither of my brothers is setting on its deck.
August Olson’s terrible prediction comes true. The Gleaner was near Knappton when a sudden wind blew against the boat’s broadside and capsized it. Nobody knows yet who has lived and who has died, only that the ferry is now on the bottom of the Columbia. But Ivan and Alvin, my stubborn twin brothers, are not on the river bottom with it.
The sight of them safe and sound in Uncle Henry and Aunt Feenie’s house is the best thing I’ve seen here in Astoria.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Sorry Girl Indeed
Eventually the ice melts and Ivan and Alvin get back to the farm, but not before we have some fun together. I am sad that they leave, but not too sad because for the first time ever I have a friend who is a girl. Her name is Emma Saari. She is Finnish like me and has long blond hair, which her mother braids every morning. She’s a Proper Young Lady.
Emma is my age, twelve years only, but sometimes she sounds all grown up, like Miss McEwing, especially when I tell her my dreams about wanting to have adventures and sail the world with Wilbert.
You’ve been playing with boys for too long May Amelia, she says. You’re starting to think like one.
That may be. But it seems to me, I say, that it’s the boys who get to do all the exciting things while the girls get left behind. I don’t want to be left behind.
She is so much fun to be with, even though she says I Am A Sorry Girl. Emma says you’re supposed to use your charm to get out of difficult situations. I told her about the time the bear chased me up the tree and said that the bear didn’t care one bit indeed if I was charming or not. She said she could see my point.
I’ve noticed that Wilbert always looks especially clean when Emma is coming to play with us. I suspect that he likes her.
I tell this to Emma and she laughs, her high sweet laugh, and says, Wilbert? Why I like that Ed Grady, he’s so tall and handsome, don’t you think?
Ed Grady is a sailing hand on Uncle Henry’s ship so Emma always wants to come along when Wilbert and I go to the shipyard. I don’t know about that Ed Grady; I can’t imagine ever actually liking a boy the way Emma does. Not Emma though.
How fine it will be when I get to kiss Ed, she says.
Emma closes her eyes and twirls around.
I say, Emma, you must be crazy as a lunatic if you’re thinking of kissing a boy. I’d sooner kiss one of Isaiah’s sheeps.
Emma says, May Amelia, I swear, don’t you have any romantic notions in that head of yours?
I guess I don’t.
I tell Emma everything—what it’s like to live in Nasel and how I’m happy to be in Astoria, happy to be just another girl, not the only no-good girl around. Even though Wilbert is still my best friend, telling things to another girl feels good in a way I can’t explain. She has a different way of looking at things.
My, Emma says, your pappa sounds very hard indeed, but it does seem like you get into a lot of mischief. If I did those things my father would whip me for sure. Your pappa just yells at you.
I hadn’t ever thought of it like that.
And really, Emma says, it must be nice to have so many handsome brothers.
Handsome?
Handsome and charming, Emma says, like that Ed Grady.
But they’re always teasing me.
What about your Aunt Alice? She sounds interesting.
You’re sorta like Aunt Alice, I say.
Like how? she says, wrinkling her nose just like Aunt Alice.
All pretty like she is, and always wearing dresses and looking like a real Proper Young Lady.
That’s what girls are supposed to
do May Amelia. You’re supposed to wear dresses and comb your hair. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?
Emma shakes her head, stray curls bobbing. She is wearing a fine white dress with lacy edging and it hasn’t a mark on it. Mamma won’t sew me white dresses on account of me climbing trees. I suspect Emma has never climbed a tree in her life.
I hate dresses, I say. You can’t run or play or climb a tree in them.
May Amelia Jackson, Emma says, you are hopeless.
We go to see Aunt Alice. She is having her afternoon tea.
May Amelia, she says, how are you darling?
Hi Aunt Alice, this is Emma.
I am delighted to make your acquaintance Emma. My, what a lovely dress. May Amelia, we have got to get you into a dress like that one of these days. Would you girls like some tea?
Yes please, Emma says. She is so polite, she really is like a miniature Aunt Alice.
We are in the sitting room and Aunt Alice pours tea and passes around a plate of ginger cookies.
Now May, how is that mischievous brother of yours? Aunt Alice asks.
Which one? I say.
Aunt Alice laughs.
Emma, she says, did you know that my niece here has got herself seven brothers? And each and every one a real gentleman.
I sure don’t know about that gentleman part. Emma is busy looking around Aunt Alice’s fine house, admiring her pretty curtains and china.
I only got six now since Matti’s been shanghaied, I say.
Your brother Matti shanghaied? What a lot of nonsense, Aunt Alice says.
It’s true, I say. Uncle Aarno says he was drinking at Mariah’s and got himself shanghaied. We haven’t seen him since.
Aunt Alice shakes her head like I’ve got it all wrong.
May Amelia, your brother Matti has not been shanghaied. He is living in San Francisco and doing fine.
I don’t understand.
Why, he married the O’Casey girl, she says.
The Irish girl? The one everyone thinks is drowned?
They eloped, Aunt Alice says simply.
But how do you know? Uncle Aarno doesn’t even know what happened.
Because I helped them. I always was a softy for romance, Aunt Alice says with a gleam in her eye.
I sit back and shake my head. I cannot believe this. Aunt Alice? Why she never does anything sneaky. She’s a Proper Lady. I try to imagine Matti with his Irish girl, imagine that they are happy, living in an exciting faraway place.
Does Mamma know? I ask.
Yes, I told her a little while back.
And Pappa?
No May, your pappa has no idea. No idea at all. Why, he’s the very reason they had to run away.
Because Mary’s Irish?
Yes May Amelia, Aunt Alice says. You must promise me that you will tell no one. This is a very great secret just among us ladies and I don’t think your father would ever forgive me if he found out.
I don’t think Pappa would either. I actually feel sorry for Pappa. His favorite son ran away because of him.
I suspect your brother Matti will write your folks and tell them the truth after a little time has passed, Aunt Alice says. Until then, we have to keep our lips sealed.
You can count on me, I say. I look at Emma and Aunt Alice, and it feels special that us three have a secret.
How daring, says Emma. I want to elope someday.
Aunt Alice sits back and smiles at her.
Well, maybe when you’re old enough I’ll help you too.
Wilbert and I have made another new friend in Astoria and he is a Chinaman. Otto is only eleven, younger than me even, but he is ever so clever. He can speak Chinese and Finnish and English and some Chinook too, ’cause he learned it from some Chinook children. Otto’s father is Joe Cheng, who is the foreman at the Seaborg Cannery here in Astoria and is responsible for all the Chinamen who work there.
All the Chinamen have to work in the cannery, Otto says. They’re not allowed to fish.
The men live in the China House but Otto and his parents have their own house next door. Otto knows near just about everybody in Astoria, and he knows all the good haunts on account of he’s lived here so long. Otto wears pajama pants like the Chinamen I’ve seen down at the docks. It’s hard to believe that we are friends with a real live Chinaman.
Today Otto runs up to us and says, Your Uncle Henry’s down at the jail!
What? says Wilbert.
He’s trying to get August Olson out!
Let’s go! I say.
Otto leads the way through the streets to the Astoria jailhouse. There is a real crowd outside, and Uncle Henry is at the front of it Raising A Ruckus.
The sheriff is trying to calm Uncle Henry.
Look Henry, August just plain hunted down Captain Jordon and beat him till he couldn’t move. I had to put him in the jail. I have to keep the peace, says the sheriff. The sheriff is a nice man, but he is the fourth sheriff Astoria has had this year. Not one seems to like the job very much. The fact that Astoria is the most lawless town around these parts might have something to do with it.
That Damn Jordon’s the one who should be in jail, not August! Uncle Henry hollers, his red mustache twitching fiercely.
Calm down Henry, the sheriff says, holding up his hands beseechingly.
But Uncle Henry’s all steamed up.
Jordon’s the reason August’s son is on the bottom of the Columbia, and all those other folks with him. You know he should never have taken the boat out! Uncle Henry shouts.
But Henry—
Let him out of that jail, do you hear me? That’s an innocent man you got in there, that’s not justice!
The crowd roars and the sheriff shakes his head sadly but goes on into the jail.
Your Uncle Henry’s quite a fellow, says Otto.
That’s for sure, says Wilbert.
A moment later the sheriff walks out, escorting August Olson who shakes his fist in the air. The crowd starts cheering.
To Mariah’s! shouts Uncle Henry, wrapping an arm around August, and everybody heads down to the tavern.
Well I’ll be, says Otto. They’d never let a Chinaman outta jail.
What do you mean? I say.
We’re nothing but workers, May Amelia, nobody would ever stand up for us. Why they’d just ship us back to the Orient.
I wonder if Otto is maybe exaggerating, but his eyes are steady. I didn’t know they could do that here, in America.
That’s just terrible, I say.
Otto shrugs and says simply, But It’s the Truth.
It gets me thinking. Maybe they’d ship me to Finland if I got into some real trouble because I’m a Finn. That sure would be exciting. It’s one way to travel the world.
Emma and I visit Uncle Henry’s ship on account of Emma wanting to spy on Ed Grady.
Uncle Henry’s ship is a 168-foot-long, two-deck, three-masted bark called the Coloma. It has a carved figure of a mermaid at the head of it and carries lumber from Astoria all the way to the Orient. I’ve noticed that the mermaid’s face bears a resemblance to Aunt Feenie’s. Uncle Henry has a crew of twenty-five men when he goes out to sea, but when he is in port there are only five men on board.
Wilbert has been helping repair the rigging that got damaged in a storm the last time Uncle Henry was out to sea. He gets to climb the high masts and Ed Grady says that Wilbert moves faster than the monkeys he’s seen climbing the trees in the jungles of Africa. Ed Grady has such wonderful stories from all his travels, and he has been nearabout everywhere. He is tall and his face is real brown from being out in the sun all the time. And he’s real old, why, he is nearly thirty.
He says, Hello Emma, Hello May Amelia.
Hi Ed, Emma says with a big smile.
What are you lovely ladies up to today?
Just visiting Wilbert, I lie.
Must get back to work ladies, Ed says with a wink and walks away.
Wilbert comes up and says, Hi Emma.
But Emma
only has eyes for Ed. She is watching him order some sailors about.
Emma, I say, Ed’s too old for you.
But he’s not married.
Why would you want to go and get married? I say.
Just because! she says, and stomps off, following Ed Grady like a puppy.
I sure do like Emma but I don’t understand her one bit.
And now Emma is all excited because there is to be a dance on Friday and she is making a new dress to wear.
What will you wear May Amelia? she says.
I can’t go. I’m too young, my ma and pa won’t let me.
But Emma is real clever. She says, Well May Amelia, you aren’t exactly living with your ma and pa now, are you? I suspect your Aunt Feenie would let you go.
I haven’t got a thread to wear I say, eyeing my overalls.
Why don’t we make a little visit to your Aunt Alice? She has a fine hand with sewing and if anyone has some extra fabric lying around, it’s her.
Emma is clever for sure, and besides this is something only girls can do together. Even though I am not fond of dresses, Emma makes it sound real exciting, so maybe it is. We go over and visit Aunt Alice, who is real pleased to see me and my charming friend Emma.
Emma wastes no time in explaining the situation to her, and the next thing I know, I am standing on a stool in my drawers while the two of them tack calico fabric around me. I am so full of pins that I can hardly breathe, let alone wiggle. They leave me standing there like a porcupine while they walk around me and adjust this hem and that tuck and nip the waist in just a bit tighter here and there. I can’t take it anymore.
Get Me Outta These Darn Pins, I say.
Emma is right shocked at my language.
She says, May Amelia you curse like a boy. You should mind your language—you’ll never get a fella if he hears you talking like that.
I say, I don’t care about getting a fella, I got seven brothers already, why would I need another boy anyways?
They say I’d be happier if I was more like a Proper Young Lady but I suspect they are the ones that’d be happier, not me.