Eva and the Irishman

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Eva and the Irishman Page 31

by Janne E Toivonen


  As he began to examine Ellen, she started to wail. The nurse firmly grasped Ellen’s head to keep her still while the doctor stuck a tongue depressor into her mouth and peered into her throat. As the nurse released her head, Ellen gagged and continued to cry.

  “Ellen, you are all right now,” Eva whispered into Ellen’s ear. “You are a good girl.”

  The doctor said something to Ellen in a soothing tone. He is speaking English to her, Eva thought. It was the first time she’d heard it on American soil. The prospect of having to learn a new language now, made her anxious.

  Then, the doctor gave Eva a thorough exam, listening to her through a stethoscope, prodding at her neck and belly, checking her throat and under her eyelids. When finished, he said something to another assistant, who escorted Eva and Ellen back to their clothes. Ellen was still clinging and screaming.

  They were allowed to redress, given a chalk mark on their coats, and made to wait in another room. Eva felt emotionally exhausted, while she watched mothers being escorted off without their children. She even saw a child from a large family being taken, screaming, from its mother’s arms. All of the mothers and children who were taken away had a different chalk symbol than hers and Ellen’s. Eva guessed that, since those individuals were obviously ill, they perhaps, had to stay at the hospital on the island. She wanted to go fight their fight and stop the separation, but it was not her battle to wage. The only thing she continued to fight were the tears that were constantly ready to gush from her eyes. The tears would begin an emotional break-down she did not want to have.

  She sat on the bench along a wall of windows in a sunny spot. She was still holding Ellen, who had fallen asleep. Eva guessed that sleep was Ellen's only refuge from the strange and horrible events. Eva wondered if Victor was in the same situation. Thank God none of us is sick today, she thought. She breathed a sigh of immense relief. It’s sunny now, she thought, looking out the window over the harbor that was hugged not by forest, but by uncountable human-made structures. The sun made her feel a little better. She leaned against the bench and, with some small amount of relief, closed her eyes. Her face tilted to the pale, late fall sun. She took a deep breath and exhaled.

  ~~~

  Victor was in another examining area with all the male arrivals. He had promised himself and Eva that he would always be vigilant, but the damn process was preventing him from being so. I hope it is not long now, he thought. Then I will be with them again.

  He was right, but not about the length of time. It was three hours after he was separated from Eva before he was deemed healthy and given the chalk mark. Victor and the remaining men and boys, after being allowed to redress, were led into a large room to join the women. Victor noticed that most of the women were silent, appearing agitated as they waited for their loved ones to reappear.

  Intensely relieved he spotted them easily, Victor made his way to his little family who were seated next to a large, sunny window on a bench. He hugged them with all his might, and took fussy Ellen from a weary and distraught Eva. He watched sympathetically as the floodgate opened for Eva. He managed to retrieve his crumpled handkerchief from his trouser pocket to wipe her nose, and he cooed soothingly as they sat on the bench.

  “I heard from another Finn that we are to go to a large room to queue up for a final stamp on our papers. Then, they will ship us to New Jersey, or the City.”

  Victor had talked to some Finns on the ship, and had decided to head west to Minnesota and the newly opened Mesabi Iron Range, where many of their countrymen were heading. It was either Hibbing or Virginia. Virginia, Minnesota had a large Finnish enclave there. Victor was certain it would be New Jersey for them. “We can get a train from there,” he said.

  ~~~

  Finally, off the island with all their luggage, and sitting at a train station in New Jersey, the Mattsons were exhausted and hungry. Eva waited on a bench with Ellen a long time before her husband returned. Victor had left them there to find a train that would point them west. She sat nervously with many people milling to and fro around her. She had never seen so many people in all her life in one place. Finally, Victor returned and sat next to her with papers in his hand.

  “The ticket master gave me a list of the cities we have to go through,” Victor said. “They’re Tse-ca-go, Minnee-ah-polees, and Doo-loot.”

  “Do we stay on the same train?” Eva asked. She felt intensely weary. Ellen was running gleefully in a circle nearby, Karhu in her hand.

  “More than likely we’ll have to change. It’s a good thing we have our steamer trunks marked and we have claim tickets for them. They should go directly to Doo-loot.”

  “I hope so. When do we get on the train?”

  “We get on that one over there, when they say ‘Piss-boorg,’” he said in choppy syllables. “I got us a bedroom.”

  “Thank you, Victor. I am so tired I could fall asleep standing up.”

  “We’ll get some food on the train, too.”

  Eva had managed to grab a roll at breakfast on Ellis Island so Ellen could have a snack. She was glad she did, because Ellen was suddenly in Eva’s lap.

  “Olen nälkäinen,” I’m hungry, Ellen whined.

  Eva pulled the napkin-wrapped roll from her coat pocket.

  “Leipä!” Ellen said, delightedly squeaky when her Mamma unwrapped it. Bread.

  Chapter 29

  Liam was heavily involved in studying and practicing the art of surgery. He had lectures at Playfair, then spent hours at the local hospitals working alongside doctors and fellow students. Along the way, he was learning much about surgeries, and diagnoses, and treatment of conditions and diseases.

  “Dady, ye’re excelling in these practica,” a veteran teaching physician said to Liam one day. Liam had just diagnosed an uncommon cancer in a patient. “I have every expectation you will be a successful doctor.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Liam answered, keeping his enthusiasm in check for professional purposes. The compliment meant the world to him.

  When Liam told Kurt that night of the teacher’s praise, Kurt was impressed. “I have heard he is not one to give out praise to anyone, Liam. This is quite good.”

  ~~~

  By the time Liam arrived at the boarding house each night, usually in the late evenings, he was famished and exhausted. Mrs. Ferguson always saved him a plate piled high with the evening’s supper. He would go into the kitchen where his supper and a plate of dessert would sit on a warm part of the stove. He would pour himself a glass of milk from the icebox and sit at the rough, well used, walnut work table, the place where countless meals had been prepared over the years, like the one at which Annie worked.

  When he wasn’t hard at studying, Liam’s time was spent thinking—and worrying about Dolly. One night at the end of September, he was wondering why he hadn’t heard if she was with child. In her past letters, she would write when she had her monthly so he wouldn’t worry about pregnancy. Now, she wasn’t writing anything about it. Letter after letter, he had asked her to please inform him. Now he realized that he would just have to trust her to tell him if she was. But he also remembered what her wish was. That he would finish his schooling, get his degree, and then come home. Now that September had past, moving towards mid-October, it really did make sense to stay and finish. It was only two more months and all that work behind him. He would write and tell her that no matter what her condition was, he would stay and complete his medical degree.

  Done with his supper, Liam heard the standing clock strike midnight. He put his empty plates and glass into the sink and began the long climb to his room in the attic. He stopped at the second-floor bathroom to brush his teeth, wash, and pee. He did not want to use his chamber pot. That would mean he had to clean it the next day.

  As he laid his head on the feathery, soft pillow and pulled the sheet and wooly blankets up around his chilly neck, Liam remembered that it was now Friday. He would have letters from home later; that made him feel happy. Soon he fell fast asle
ep.

  ~~~

  The next few weeks brought a heavy practicum schedule at the Presbyterian charity hospital. A terrible case crossed Liam’s path. A young woman was brought in six or seven months pregnant, hemorrhaging heavily. The diagnosis was a miscarriage. Liam and two other doctors worked on her under ether for quite a while, but to no avail. She bled to death and the fetus was too underdeveloped to survive. The uterine wall, for whatever reason, had torn irreparably. They thought she may have fallen – quite badly, at that. She had bruises on her knees, upper arms, and on her hip.

  While taking a walk around the grounds to clear his head, Liam thought how heartbreaking the case was. Where was the husband? he wondered. If the husband had been there, could she have survived? The practical side of him said he’d better get used to these cases, they occur often enough. Not everyone can be saved. Sometimes it’s no one’s fault.

  That night, Liam felt relieved that his letters from Dolly were a bit happier and she sounded quite well. She wrote about her encounter with Mary Tisdale and the rings, and how Lord Pirrie had saved the day.

  … Your mother insisted I tell her about my rings when I came into the parlor and she was there. I told her I married a catholic boy who’s on a ship in the orient in China. He’s coming home in December …

  “Shite,” Liam said out loud. He was reading in the sunny window of the parlor that Friday afternoon. He had been allowed an afternoon off for a respite from his near-impossible work load. He had just spent nearly forty-eight hours at the charity hospital. Dolly’s letters, although much less morose than the past fall, were a mish-mash of emotions. Her thoughts were all over the place. Annie’s letters, on the other hand, were even keeled. He decided Dolly just missed him and was doing her best to cope with the time apart.

  At a staff meeting for interns, the Dean and his professors made it clear that they were quite impressed with Liam’s success at the accelerated pace. He was still at the top of his class, although the composition of his class had changed since he was no longer carrying a normal class load.

  “Your work and performance is exemplary, Mr. Dady,” the Dean told him in front of the others.

  “Thank you,” Liam said. He was pleased.

  ~~~

  It was end of December. The end was finally here. The Dean gave Liam a special pass to be excused from the spring graduation ceremony since he would probably be in America by then. To congratulate Liam, the faculty and Dean held a special luncheon, inviting the top ten from each class. Included were Kurt and Robbie, Liam’s cadaver-retrieving team.

  At the end of the luncheon, Professor Smythe stood. “May I have everyone’s attention, please,” he said. He spoke above the din of conversation and revelry of the get-together as he clinked his crystal water glass with a spoon. “I, on behalf of the administration and faculty want to give special praise and a special thank-you to Dr. William Dady, better known as Liam, for the extraordinary effort, not only academically, but in the extra-curricular effort as well. Without those efforts of Liam, Kurt, and Robbie on a regular basis, we would not be sending out well-prepared and accomplished doctors. So, Liam, we raise a glass to you. Best of luck, and God-speed.”

  “Here, here!” said everyone gathered. They started chanting in the direction of Liam. “Speech, speech, speech . . .”

  Liam faced flushed hot, not used to such attention. He was ready to decline when Kurt and Robbie hoisted him out of his chair and forced him to stand up. The gatherers, who mostly were students, cheered. The faculty remained reserved but involved in the festivities.

  “I’m not one for puttin’ on airs or bringin’ attention to myself,” Liam said. “But I appreciate your thanks, and I want to thank Dean and the entire faculty for supporting me and letting me accelerate my courses. With this diploma, my wife and I are immigrating to America as soon as possible to try our luck out west somewhere. Thank you again.”

  With that, Liam sat back down, wanting to hide from all the exposure. He threw back a shot of whiskey that someone, probably Robbie the Scot, had put in front of him. He felt the searing liquid settle in his stomach and start to calm him, taking away the uncomfortable feelings.

  Liam and Kurt staggered slightly as they walked back to the boarding house from the luncheon at Playfair. When they got to the house, Liam began packing his belongings into his steamer trunk.

  “Liam, I wanted to give you a farewell gift,” Kurt said. He was packing for his Christmas holiday. He would be returning in January.

  Liam, nearly finished packing his belongs for good, said, “There was no need to do that, Kurt.”

  “I know, but I don’t think I would’ve done as well as I did without your help along the way.”

  “Ye so would’ve. What did I do?”

  Kurt gave Liam a wrapped box.

  Liam opened it and discovered a shiny, dark-brown leather messenger bag. “This is perfect for carrying my documents,” he said. “Thank you, Kurt. I see it’s made in Germany by the stamp here.”

  “Ah, yes. Good quality by an artisan in my hometown.” Kurt smiled.

  Liam pictured himself in meetings with hospital administrators seeking a position—in America. He liked imagining himself and Dolly, his sweet doctor’s wife, in their little house in a town in Big Sky country. He’d seen pictures and drawings of that part of the world. Perhaps Dolly would learn to vegetable-garden. Perhaps they would find themselves with a small farm with a few sheep, a cow, and chickens. Most likely chickens, he thought. He loved fresh eggs. He felt good imagining his new life—his way, with his choice of a wife. Oh, and lots of children.

  In the foyer of the big boarding house, as he was departing for good, Liam thanked Mrs. Ferguson for everything and kissed her cheek.

  “This is for you, Mrs. Ferguson,” Liam said, handing her a jewelry box.

  She opened it and gasped. A tear came to her eye. “A gold bracelet, with a wee house charm. How lovely.”

  “Allow me to help you put it on,” Liam suggested. He fastened the clasp around her chubby wrist. “It suits ye.”

  “No one’s ever done that for me. Thank you, Mr. Dady—oh, that should be Dr. Dady.” Her round, ample face beamed in delight.

  Liam smiled, too, and gave her another farewell hug. “I’ll miss yer blueberry scones.”

  “Best of luck to ye, and yer dear bride,” she said as he walked down the steps of the front stoop.

  Moments before, Kurt had helped Liam carry his trunk down the stairs from the attic room. He helped him again now, hoisting the trunk on the back rack of the cab.

  “I’ve enjoyed our friendship, Kurt,” Liam said.

  Kurt’s blond hair blew in the cold December wind, his cheeks red and wind-chafed. “Liam, it has been a pleasure.” He held out his hand. They shook hands warmly.

  “Farewell, my friend,” Liam said. “Good luck, and all that.” He pulled his friend close and embraced him. Both knew they would probably not cross paths again.

  Liam stepped up into the cab. As it drove away, he waved out the window, giving one last goodbye to Kurt and the weepy Mrs. Ferguson. He took one last look at the boarding house and peered down Nicholson Street to see Playfair Hall, his last glance. He was satisfied with his accomplishments at the Royal School for Surgeons. He wondered if he would ever be in this part of the world again. He felt nostalgic for a few moments. But now it was time to look forward.

  Liam rested easier when he was on the steamer, on his way home to Dolly. Forever. As the passenger ship rolled and rocked across the December-choppy North Channel, Liam laughed and wept in the privacy of his tiny stateroom.

  Chapter 30

  Dolly and Annie, for the second year in a row, cooked and decorated the Dady mansion for the annual Christmas soiree. It was an event Mrs. Dady lived all year for. And now, her son would be coming home with his degree from The Royal School for Surgeons, graduating early and summa cum laude. All she could talk was how Liam could now get married and have a position at Harland and Wolff a
s the company physician. “Very prestigious,” she boasted.

  The day before the party, Dolly had to leave her downstairs cleaning to be sick in the laundry room lavatory. Her regular morning sickness had long abated, which was a blessing. However, she was now six months pregnant and it was becoming increasingly hard to hide her rounding belly. She changed to wearing a smock-like apron and continued to stay on top of adjusting her cleaning schedule around where the Mistress of the house would be at any given time. It was a constant hassle to avoid her, but it made Dolly physically ill to hear Mrs. Dady prattle on about Liam wedding Mary Tisdale.

  Lord, what fury to be unleashed when the truth comes out, Dolly thought. She had an overwhelming dread in the pit of her belly. Liam would be home tonight. He would be the center of attention, distracted and thoroughly annoyed by his mother—and by Mary Tisdale. He would discover Dolly was hiding their pregnancy from him, in heavy collusion with Annie.

  “There’s gonna be a great row,” she thought out loud. It was in the wee hours of the morning of the party, and she was nervously preparing herself for the day and long evening. Instead of being head-over-heels happy her husband would soon be home, Dolly was a royal ball of nervous tension.

  A few days before the soiree, Annie had told Dolly she'd arranged for some backup help. “I hired an extra girl, so you can stay in the kitchen with me all night. Ye’re just too pregnant now.”

  “I like that idea, Annie,” Dolly responded in relief.

  “I don’t want Mary Tisdale to lay one spyin’ eye on ye,” Annie said. “She’s too clever, that one.”

  That was the plan.

  ~~~

  The guests began to arrive at six-thirty on Christmas Eve. Mrs. Dady's high-pitched, manic, one-sided banter could be heard all the way from the foyer into the kitchen with the door closed.

 

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