Cold Determination

by Jennifer Lyons

  Aunt Anya generously let us stay one more night. The three of us took one bed, and Aunt Anya’s family took the other. Peter slept on Mama’s right, and I to her left. We wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and Mama sang in her soft way, lulling us to sleep. The next morning, Aunt Anya and Mama cooked us breakfast and held a whispered conversation in the corner kitchen

  “Is this really the only way, Katarzyna? Is there nowhere else?” Aunt Anya loudly whispered. I did not think she really knew how to whisper.

  “This is all I can find; it is not too bad, not as bad as it sounds. I will be serving the customers food, nothing else. In between, I will have the wash. There is shelter and it is near the school. What more can I ask for? I can’t mine and stay here. Jurak and Peter will be safer than here, alone all day. At least there, I will be near them. We can’t stay here. The money has run out, this is it,” Mama choked on the last words even as she straightened her back with hard resolve.

  Her sister reached a hand to her hand, “I wish we had never left Istebna, Katarazyna; I wish we had never left Cziesyn! I am so sorry I fell in love,” I had never seen Aunt Anya cry, not even when our Rosie died. She spilled a lifetime of tears that wet her face and our mama’s shoulder.

  “Hush, Anya. This is not your fault. You love your Antonin as I love my Petr. As I loved my Petr. This is precious, dar milosci. Petr is now gone, but your Antonin is here alive and well. Be thankful. Sheridan is not too far.”

  Aunt Anya seemed to agree even though her shoulders shook.

  “I have buried Petr near Rosie but I cannot afford to mark his grave. I am so afraid he will lie here, forgotten. It is my greatest sadness. Visit them, will you?” One lone tear found its way down her cheek. Mama brushed it aside, then squared her shoulders and called us boys. We dutifully hugged our Aunt Anya and cousins. We gathered our few belongings and followed Mama through the front door.

  The street was dirty, as always, and busy. The vile stench of horses and men reached our senses. Peter and I wrinkled our noses against it. I tried to be brave, but it was hard to keep up with my arms full. The pinching feeling came back deep in my stomach. I knew we were going to the big town and I was scared. I looked around looking for something to help me through this change, but no one noticed us—they were just too busy with their own lives filled with their own worries. I began to wish for anyone to notice us, to have time to care just a little. As we reached the trolley car, I saw that white cat again. I was sure it was the same one so I called out for her to come to me. My wish had been granted. She came. Just as we were pulling away, she jumped into the seat next to me. We became fast friends by the time we got to Sheridan. I had named her Rosa. I don’t think Mama even noticed.

  The ride to Sheridan was not long, but for me, very exciting. The wind whipped up around us. Dead leaves rushed around. Rosa was perturbed by those and glared. Birds flew overhead. Peter, always adventurous, dared to look over the side down at the track. Mama pulled him back with a sharp word.

  Sheridan was huge. I was afraid of getting lost as we disembarked the trolley. It clanged away, leaving us in the street alone. Mama knew where to go. She hurried us both along. People jostled us this way and that way, so I kept close to Mama.

  I felt we walked along ways, but it was probably only three or four city blocks. Mama finally stopped in front of a large, white building. It was the biggest building I had ever seen. We stood in front of the main door. Windows stretched right and left. It was taller than any other building around. Mama bustled us inside without looking around. She didn’t bother to explain why we were there.

  Even without explanation, we followed her, dutifully, down a narrow hall that was filled with people. They were everywhere. They leaned against walls, sprawled in doorways and two men were passed out beneath a low window. Shouts and laughter rose up from somewhere down to the right. Loud piano music followed. Peter glanced at me, his eyes wide. Mama took us far down that narrow hall. We followed her up the narrow stairs where more people were gathered. A few sat on the stairs and were unwilling to move out of our way. We climbed awkwardly around each one. One lady winked at me. She had short dark hair and wore a light pink blouse with no sleeves and a long, tight skirt. Her skin was deep brown. I had never seen a black woman before and I couldn’t help but stare. I thought she was beautiful. Later, I learned she was called Miss Kate.

  Mama led us up another flight of stairs. We walked down another long hallway. Finally, pulling a large key from her apron pocket, she stopped in front of a door. She let us in first and shut the door firmly behind her. She finally spoke.

  “This will be our home, at least for now. I will work in the restaurant and you boys will behave. The man who owns this place is doing us a favor. His name is Mr. Joclav. He doesn’t want any trouble from children.”

  Peter and I hadn’t been paying much attention to her words. We were too busy exploring our new living quarters. I was terribly frightened. Peter looked unwell. The noise was loud, even with the door shut and locked. The window only shut part way.

  Beside the window and door, there was one small bed with no blankets. The stand was of iron and it held a thin, stained mattress. I could see a chamber pot beneath it. In one corner, there stood a washbasin with no pitcher. There was a strip of wood nailed haphazardly into the wall next to the washbasin. There were three hooks on it. Mama hung our coats on those. Other than a distinct musty smell, the room was empty.

  Mama was talking again.

  “Listen, Peter, Jurak. This is very important. You must behave. This is the only place in town that allows us to stay. I can find work but nowhere to live. Do you understand? You stay out of the way of everyone here and you stay out of trouble. Mr. Joclav has given me a job and this place to rent. We can eat dinners from the restaurant, but you must behave. He would rather you not stay and if he never sees you, he will be happiest. Do you understand?” Her voice was low and urgent.

  I nodded slowly. I wondered when and if Peter and I had behaved badly. Were we as loud as all these people in this place? Had we been impolite to someone? Peter dropped his eyes to the floor. “I miss Papa.”

  It was the first time any of the three of us acknowledged our new life with our new, lonely circumstances. Mama pulled us to her and even though we were all a little hungry, we curled up on that bed together. We cried ourselves to sleep. Despite all the noise and the newness, we slept deeply. We slept right through dinner and the whole night through. When Peter and I woke the next morning, Mama was already gone.

  There was new water in our kettle. Mama placed it by the basin the day before. Peter made me wash after he did his. Then, he opened our door and we peered out into the hallway. It was quiet. I couldn’t believe it was the same hallway—it was so quiet. Besides one man sleeping down towards the stairs, it was also empty. There was no shouting, no laughing, and no piano music. Peter led me towards the stairs and we tiptoed down in search of our mother.

  The smell of food hit both of us as soon as we reached the bottom of those stairs. I took a good look around and took in our new home as we walked. There were many doors that were all the same. Some closed better than others. The smell of food grew strong the more we walked. Peter took a sharp right at the bottom of the stairs. Another long hallway greeted us, so we trekked down it too. There, at the end, was the restaurant and our mother. I was relieved to see both.

  Mama looked happy to see us too. She beckoned us in with a quick glance over her shoulder. She pulled bread from her front apron pocket and kissed us both. We sat there, by the backdoor of the kitchen waiting to see what we were to do next. She came to us with a glass full of milk and told us to share.

  “This is where I work,” she proclaimed a bit proudly. “I know how to cook and clean, and Mr. Joclav will let us stay as long as we need. This kitchen is busy all the time, especially at night. I worked before I had you boys. I worked in a kitchen in Czsien. I will work every day, and you boys are in charge of yourselves. You must be good and kind. Y
ou can start school soon.”

  “School?” Peter asked this question and his brows furrowed. We had never gone to school before. He didn’t sound too happy.

  “Yes, school. You will learn to read better and do math and when you grow up, you will not be miners. Now run along, and I will see you at dinner time here.” Mama waved us out the door even though I still felt a little hungry.

  Peter ran through the kitchen door without asking for more, so I followed, hot on his heels. Almost immediately, Peter crashed into something big and hard, and I crashed into him. We fell in a heap at the feet of a really big man. We untangled ourselves and looked up to see who had stopped us so suddenly. The man did not look kind.

  He had greasy hair that slicked away from his face. His shirt was unwashed, and he smelled. He looked down at us, his big mouth stretching into a slimy smile. I didn’t like him. I looked at my brother and could see he didn’t like him either.

  “You boys must belong to Katarzyna. Did you eat breakfast?” His voice was loud and his breath horrible. I decided to let Peter do the talking.

  “Yes, sir, we ate breakfast with Mama just now,” Peter sounded like a grown-up. I was awed by his sure steady words.

  “Good then, you run along and stay out of the way, you hear? You have your room here and your mother has her job, but you boys stay out of the way.” His eyes narrowed and his fists doubled. Peter and I stepped around him and ran to the end of the alleyway without looking back. Rosa was waiting for me.

  Peter ran far ahead leaving me to keep up. Rosa followed, right on my heels. When Peter came to the end of the city block, he stopped. I crashed into him for the second time that morning. I fell and scraped my hands and knees. I tried not to let him see the tears in my eyes. I looked up and saw why he had stopped so suddenly.

  The street was just as busy as yesterday. No one was going to watch out for us. It would be up to us to watch out for them. Peter slowed a little after that, leading me up streets and alleys we had never been down. He never seemed to get lost. We spent the entire day getting to know the town. We found it all exciting.

  Finally, night began to fall, and Peter led us home. The street was still busy and people were getting louder. Many called to each other and we saw a fight start outside one saloon. An Indian tried to go inside but he was shoved out immediately. He shoved back until someone gave him a drink.

  We entered the large building through the backdoor into the kitchen. Mama was nowhere to be found, but a smiley, brown woman greeted us.

  “Where ya boys headed?” she asked in a faint eastern accent.

  “We live here, and Mama said we can get our dinner here. We don’t know where she is.” Peter followed that simple explanation with, “I am Peter, and this is Jurak.” I was too afraid to answer. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

  Her hair was black and short, cut just to her jaw. She wore a light dress covered with an apron. Obviously, she worked in the kitchen with our mama. She had wide green eyes, fringed with long dark lashes. I could tell she smiled a lot—her soft features easily stretched upwards, wrinkling her eyes. She had soft looking hands with long, supple fingers. She smiled at us.

  “You belong to Kat! I was hoping to meet you soon. Your mama is busy out front, so I will get your dinner to you today. You boys can call me Kate,” she called to us over her shoulder as she walked away. She talked with a New York accent.

  She returned a few minutes later, carrying a large tray. To mine and Peter’s surprise, there was another glass of milk! We had never had two glasses of milk in one day. Alongside that milk, there was a large piece of bread and two bowls of a thick soup. Peter and I ate hurriedly while Miss Kate told us all about our new home.

  “There are four floors. Tons of people move in and out every day. We see all kinds and the rich people stay on the fourth floor. Did your mama warn you about the owner?” She dropped her voice to a serious whisper. “He is the big man they call him Mr. Joclav. I try to stay out of his way and you should too. I never saw him harm anybody, but he can be cruel. I saw him toss a girl into the street over an unpaid bill. You stay out of his way and you’ll be fine. I been here for nearly two years! I came out thinking I would keep going to California, you know? But I only made it here so far; I’ll keep goin’ someday. For now, I do the dishes here and a bit of side work on the weekends. You boys seen the trolley yet? I can get you a ride tomorah if you like. You never know who you gonna meet out there, and riding is fun.” The more she talked, the more I liked her. Her accent seemed exotic and her eyes were kind. She went on, “What’d you boys see today?”

  I was no longer so afraid of her. “We saw the trolley, and Peter took me and Rosa all over!”

  Peter chimed in, “We saw the streets and all the people, Jurak liked the shop windows! I liked the horses.”

  “Who’s Rosa, hun?”

  I hadn’t talked to anyone too much about Rosa just yet. Peter had noticed her following us, but I hadn’t told him what I called her. I hadn’t told Mama about her either.

  “She’s my cat. She likes to see this city and she just likes me. She followed us from home.” I could see Miss Kate could tell how much I loved Rosa, so I continued, “She is really fluffy and has blue eyes, like me!”

  “She sounds neat, maybe I can see her tomora? We can bring her a bite to eat. I never had a cat before, will she bite?” she teased.

  Mama came in just then, and Peter and I ran to her. I felt like we hadn’t seen her for longer than just today. She hugged us close and asked Miss Kate to get her some soup. Peter asked for more too. I expected Mama to admonish him—we never got two bowls of anything before—but she didn’t. I immediately wished I had thought to ask for more.

  “Tell me of your day, boys.” Mama was so soft and gentle. Peter talked and talked about our day. I was tired, so I just let Peter talk and snuggled into Mama. Kate brought our tray back. She touched my cheek before walking away, and I happily noticed she had included another bowl of soup for me even though I hadn’t asked. I loved her more and more.

  Peter talked and talked to Mama, telling her of all the people and how Miss Kate promised us a trolley ride. He never mentioned Rosa and was content to just eat and listen. Mama seemed awfully tired, and I noticed her hands were very red. She ate her soup in silence, but her eyes looked happy to see us.

  Afterwards, she took our tray away and was gone for a few minutes.

  Retrieving us, she led the way up to our room. “It is bath night, we get to bathe once a week in the tub down the hall,” she informed us as we walked. “We get Mondays which is best; hardly anyone else has that day—it will be cleaner.”

  We got to our room, and Mama gathered our washing things. She had a bar of soap, a comb that pulled too much, a threadbare towel that scratched a lot, and clean clothes for all three of us. I was not so sure about bathing here. Someone might walk in or the water might be cold. Peter looked as if he held the same reservations, but Mama was determined. “I don’t want to sleep with smelly boys again!”

  We always obeyed our mama, so we followed her down the stairs and down another hall. There were people all around again, noisily strewn all over the halls. We picked our way around them and continued into a room labeled WASH.

  Mama closed the door firmly behind us, and I was relieved to see a latch. I hadn’t noticed Mama bring our weekly wash with her on top of all our bathing things.

  “Mondays are our wash days, clothes and all,” she informed us. She went to work, filling an iron tub with water from a pump. Peter and I took turns when her arms grew tired.

  When it was full, Mama put all our linens into the water. There was a washboard to the side, and she took it down, bar of soap in one hand and Peter’s socks in the other. Washing clothes was a lot of work, and we had two blankets besides clothing she wanted cleaned. Peter and I took all our clothes off and helped wet the clothes and soap them. Mama made it fun, splashing us here and there, and scrubbing our backs in between. Soon, we w
ere both wet and cold and dripping with suds. Peter painted a beard to my face with the suds, and we all laughed. It felt good. Once our laundry was done, Mama wrung it out and bundled it into a wet sheet. She stepped out of her clothes into the tub and Peter and I helped each other dry off. She was thinner than I remembered, her ribs sticking far out of her back and sides. She washed best as she could in water left from us and the wash. She finally rinsed her hair and Peter brought her our damp towel.

  She drew her dressing gown around her shoulders and we gathered our things. We traced our steps back to our room where Mama hung a cord diagonally from corner to corner, and we handed her the wet laundry. Soon, our room smelled fresh just like our soap. Mama lay down in the middle of our bed and the three of us snuggled in close together.

  “The first time I saw your papa, I knew he loved me,” her words were soft. “You both know he was a large man, hard to miss, but I noticed his eyes first. I knew he was watching me at the market that day. I wondered if he would get enough courage to speak to me, to say hello. He was loud, you know how loud he was. I think I loved him from that moment. He didn’t even have to say anything.”

  Her voice caught at those words and she didn’t say anything more. I felt her arm tighten on me, holding me as safe as she could. Noises from all around filled our ears and minds, eventually lulling us to sleep.

  Summer and School

  The Cost of Warmth

  Peter and I did just as we’d planned. We left home each morning and went onto school. At noon, we simply walked out of the schoolyard. Ms. Fink never asked and no one else cared. School was tolerable as long as we didn’t ruin entire days with it.

  Once we settled into our rhythm, I noticed the days quickly grew cooler. Most nights were cold enough that we could see our breath as we snuggled under our blankets.

  “It is getting too cold in this room,” Mama spoke after washing one night. “I am afraid our things won’t dry. They will just freeze in the winter.” Mama looked worried. Peter watched her with a serious look. All three of us understood only too well what cold could do to a body. Mama sighed and looked over our things. I think she was noticing how worn out our shoes were and how small Peter’s jacket was for him. I didn’t want to worry her so much just by growing and I hugged her tight. She kissed the top of my head and told me I smelled clean. I felt better but I wasn’t sure Mama did.