by Ola Larsmo
Silence settled over them. Gusts of wind from the stern whirled the smoke from the smokestack high above; a glimpse of sunlight between the clouds sketched strange, long shadows across the white-painted façade of the bridge. There for a moment, then gone. Shadows of smoke. Shadows of a dream. This is me. Anna. Right here. Everyone else was heading toward something new, while she was heading away from something old and familiar that had shattered. But then it occurred to her that she couldn’t be sure about the others. She didn’t actually know why they were now sitting here around her.
The widow’s son David sat quietly on a coil of rope, staring steadily at the sea, as if he wanted to be the first to catch sight of the new coastline. Yet Anna could tell he wasn’t looking at anything specific but, rather, at something he carried inside him.
“How many of you are thinking of going on to St. Paul?” asked Inga, sounding as if she were asking if anyone wanted a cup of coffee. One by one everybody in the group raised their hands. And, much to her surprise, Anna found herself raising her hand too, without even a trace of hesitation. Later, looking back on that moment, she would recall that David Lundgren was the first to raise his hand, and she remembered how his insolent expression changed to an almost embarrassed smile of pleasure when he saw that everyone was in agreement.
This was a moment that stayed in Ellen’s memory as well. The sight of her mother’s thin, pale hand raised in the air against a billowy, acrid cloud of coal smoke. She knew they were on their way to America on the world’s biggest ship and that things would be better when they got there. There was something about her mother’s face, the way her mouth twitched, the way she let out a deep sigh. The way the lines at the corners of her eyes seemed to smooth out from inside, for just a moment. The way she then looked down at them, smiling. And the way Ellen herself wiggled a loose tooth with her tongue, and how important this all was.
The next day they saw land for the first time. One by one they all went up on deck and pushed their way forward until they could look over the shoulders of the other passengers and see a strip of gray beneath the bank of clouds. The steward told them to keep their shoes and socks on, meaning they shouldn’t get too excited, because the storm had carried the ship off course. What they were seeing was Cape Cod. It was still a good distance to New York, where they would dock sometime the following morning. But now they would be traveling along the coast until they reached their destination. No more open waters.
“Cape Cod,” said Inga. “That translates as Torskholmen in Swedish. We have a place called the same thing back home.”
There Anna and Inga stood, after finally jostling their way forward to the rail. They looked at each other and laughed without really knowing why.
“That’s not something you can just decide on your own,” Gustaf persisted, without looking his wife in the eye.
“But you weren’t there.”
“I was minding the boy. It was impossible to follow the conversation. I couldn’t hear everything that was said.”
Anna felt her words and decisiveness seeping away as she looked down at her hands. Then she straightened up and said, “We had to decide something. And it’ll be good to have some folks with us that we know. We can’t speak the language, after all. And we have to say where we’re going when we show our papers. Inga told me that.”
Gustaf sat on the bunk, soundlessly tapping his foot on the deck, as if he were on his way somewhere else. His jaw muscles tightened, then relaxed, then tightened again.
“I don’t think we should bind ourselves to anything. There may be opportunities we don’t yet know about when we get to New York. There are Swedes living there, too. And probably jobs. It’s a big city.”
“You may see it as ‘binding ourselves,’” she said, noticing how shrill her voice sounded, yet there was nothing she could do about it. “But the others are going to continue west. There are more Swedes where they’re going. And shoe factories too. Inga says—”
“Inga, Inga. . . . Can’t you talk about anything but that damn Inga? Is she the one making all the decisions?”
Anna didn’t know what to say, so she kept quiet.
Finally Gustaf said, “I don’t want to decide anything until we get ashore. I want to see how things go and make some inquiries. Is that too much to ask?”
He got up without waiting for an answer and headed for the door. Then he was gone. She stayed where she was, feeling that everything was once again wide open and drifting, like when the ice broke up during the spring thaw. Nothing was solid enough to stand on.
At first the shoreline was merely a darker shadow against the gray of the sea; gradually long sandy beaches emerged from the haze. After a while individual buildings could be distinguished, both ordinary houses and grand estates along the coast. Several ships appeared in the morning, all of them heading for the inlet to the large bay.
All the steerage passengers had already gathered on deck. It was crowded, and everyone was feeling irritable. Anna kept close to Gustaf, who was letting the children take turns sitting on his shoulders so they could see above the heads of the grown-ups. Inga stood on the other side of Anna, holding her well-thumbed book in her hands. She had opened it to a page with a small map and was trying to make out where they were whenever they caught sight of some landmark. Perched on a hill was what looked like a fortress. When they drew closer, Inga said it was a lighthouse, but with a long wall encircling the top. Then they glided past it.
The Majestic issued two blasts on its steam whistle and received a brief reply from somewhere farther away, out of sight. Like cattle lowing in a field, Anna thought. Then she wondered aloud where the tall buildings were that she’d heard so much about. “You’ll see them later,” said Inga. “But I expect we’ll soon be seeing the statue—the Statue of Liberty, you know.” Then she slipped away around the corner, looking suddenly excited.
One of the Irish women abruptly left her place at the rail, and Anna took a step forward, but the space was quickly taken by others, so she caught only a glimpse of a castle-like structure made of red brick. This time there really were cannons sticking out over the parapets. Holding up the hem of her skirts, Inga came rushing back to Anna.
“She’s on the other side,” she shouted. “Come quick!” Then she turned on her heel and again disappeared through the narrow doorway leading to the row of privies. Anna grabbed her daughters’ hands and told them, “Come on,” before following the younger woman. She held her breath as they passed the white-painted doors of the toilets.
Inga had wriggled her way in between some of the stout women wearing gray aprons who were standing at the rail. When Anna pushed the two little girls forward, the women grudgingly made room for them. Their narrowed lips and disapproving expressions showed they weren’t happy about it, but they moved aside. The children pressed their faces between the rust-colored posts of the rail to stare at the island with the high stone foundation. Anna worried that the rust might fleck off onto their skin. Then she looked up.
She had thought the statue would be white, but Lady Liberty was a green hue that reminded her of an old two-öre coin, the way it might look when emerging from the melting ice on the street in the springtime. The ship was now on its way toward the dock, so they could no longer see the statue’s face, only the arm holding the stone tablet and, on the other side, the torch that rose straight up into the gray sky.
“They light it up at night,” said Inga. “That’s what it says in my book.”
The ship made a half-turn in the water and issued yet another muffled blast. Anna was suddenly afraid they might collide with some other vessel. There were ships’ masts everywhere, and because she was standing behind Inga, her view was obstructed. The coastline slowly swung forward, along with buildings on a hillside. But what she at first took for a natural slope turned out to have rows of windows, shining faintly in the gray light.
“Buildings that tall can’t possibly exist,” she said, placing her hands on her daughters’ back
s, as if to protect them.
“It’s probably only rich people who live in them,” said Inga, trying to sound knowledgeable. “At least on the top floors.”
“But surely they would collapse,” said Anna. “They must be far too heavy to stay up.”
Inga’s lips moved silently, as if she were murmuring something to herself.
“Fifteen,” she said then. “I count fifteen stories.”
The ship continued turning in the water, as if it couldn’t decide in which direction to go. Then it began moving forward once again with a strong vibration that spread across the deck and made the privy doors rattle. Anna heard from a distance folks cheering up on the cabin deck, so she leaned forward to peer over her daughters’ heads.
As the ship turned, a new island slid into view. It seemed to consist of nothing but buildings, with no shore areas at all. On one side stood a huge chimney of yellow brick, billowing gray smoke. There were rows of black windows in what looked like a warehouse, the walls of which stretched right down to the water. On the other side was a long wooden building with towers and pinnacles. The black slate roof shone faintly in the hazy light.
“That looks like the open-air baths in Strömstad,” said Inga with a laugh. “Although much bigger, of course.” After glancing at her book, she added, with a trace of awe, “It must be Ellis Island.”
Suddenly the engines of the Majestic fell silent for the first time in a week, and everything was quiet. The ship continued to glide more and more slowly past the island, which rested on its own dark reflection in the water. They were heading for the rows of harbor storehouses, where people were waiting on the dock. The cheering on the upper decks was now much louder. But below on the between-deck, everyone stood mutely as they watched the dock approach at an infinitely slow pace.
They waited in line for more than an hour while the cabin passengers disembarked. One by one or in groups they disappeared through the big door to the harbor terminal of the White Star Line, accompanied by porters wearing blue uniforms. Slowly the dock cleared of people. A couple of watchmen emerged and closed the wrought iron gates to the terminal building. Then they coiled away the ropes blocking the gangplanks and allowed the first passengers from the between-deck to move forward on unsteady legs and step ashore.
Soon the line began moving. Anna held Elisabet’s hand while Ellen held on to Carl. Gustaf carried the big suitcase with the number 3304 chalked on the side, and he had their seaman’s sack slung over his shoulder. The vein at his temple was visibly pulsing, but he didn’t say a word. Anna carried the shapeless bundle, wrapped in sailcloth and tied with a string, that contained their bed linens and other belongings. She could hardly see where she was going.
“Watch your step,” Gustaf muttered in a stifled voice in front of her. Suddenly her foot struck a metal threshold and she was out on the sloping gangplank. The people behind her surged forward, but she regained her balance in midstride.
Then they set foot on solid ground. America. Anna still held the bundle under one arm, undecided whether to set it down on the cobblestones. Between her feet she saw that the cracks between the stones were filled with dried horse manure, so she decided not to. Gustaf set down the suitcase, sat down on it, and pulled Carl onto his lap. Anna leaned the bundle against her husband’s back, and he offered no objection. Over the top of the bundle she found herself staring straight into the morning light. At the other end of the bay the Statue of Liberty was still visible like a shadow in the haze. Behind her she heard the city, the sounds echoing through the stone vault on the other side of the double gates, now locked. Shouting voices, wagon wheels, horse hooves against pavement, as well as what sounded like the clang of bells some distance away. Later she would realize it was the streetcars she had heard. Here she noticed the same smell of coal smoke as she’d known in Göteborg. And all around them more and more passengers continued to stream down from the ship’s double gangplanks to form a dark mass of humanity.
The dock was soon teeming with people because they had nowhere else to go. Elisabet fretted and said she was hungry. Anna tried to get her to look at the Statue of Liberty, but the child merely buried her face in her mother’s apron. The air felt hot and damp, even though the sky was overcast and threatened rain. Not the sort of weather she was familiar with in Sweden. She saw Inga sitting on her suitcase a short distance away, holding a parcel on her lap, and with her shawl knotted firmly under her chin, in spite of the heat. Anna waved, and Inga waved back but otherwise didn’t move. Anna called to her over the heads of the other passengers, “What now?”
“Now we wait,” Inga replied. “A ferryboat will come to pick us up.”
“That’s right,” said Gustaf, taking off his cap. “We have to go back over there.”
Anna shaded her eyes with her hand and looked where he was pointing. Over there. Toward the island with the building with all the towers and pinnacles made of wood.
“Do you think we could find some water for the children?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. Not until we get over there,” replied Gustaf. After that he fell silent. When she looked at him again, he had dozed off, leaning against the bundle of linens and clothing. Carl was asleep on his lap, both of them sleeping with their mouths open. Tiny beads of sweat covered the boy’s forehead.
They waited for more than an hour. Then a side-wheeler painted a uniform gray arrived and docked next to the Majestic, on the right side of the stern. Gangplanks were slammed into place. Anna shook Gustaf’s shoulder, surprised the noise hadn’t roused him. Then Carl began fidgeting on his lap, and Gustaf abruptly sat up straight.
“Time to go,” Anna told him as quietly as she could. The crowd on the dock was already in motion. She saw Inga heading for the ferry with tall David Lundgren right behind her.
They started gathering up their belongings. The girls moved slowly, as if not yet fully awake. When they reached the ferry, a mustachioed crewman suddenly appeared in front of them, holding out his hand to block their way. “Full,” he merely said, and Anna understood. The people onboard occupied every inch of space, with suitcases clutched in their arms or parked at their feet. She saw row upon row of faces, both familiar and unfamiliar. She thought she caught a glimpse of the Gavin family. She couldn’t see Inga or the Lundgrens anywhere.
“Next,” said the man as he held up a finger in front of Gustaf’s face. “One hour.” He said the words as if speaking to a deaf-mute. Anna noticed how Gustaf squared his shoulders. The suitcase landed with a thud on the cobblestones, and she worried half-heartedly about the fate of the few coffee cups they had left. Gustaf sat down.
The ferry slowly started to move in a cloud of coal smoke, backing away from the dock with water dripping off the big paddle wheel. Then it disappeared behind the Majestic’s dark hull.
“Water,” said Anna. “We need to find water to drink.” Gustaf didn’t budge, his back turned to her as he gazed out at the harbor.
“I’m staying here,” he said. “I have no intention of missing any more boats. You go and look for something to drink, if you like.”
Anna had no idea where to go. She looked around at all the other people and suitcases. Everyone was sitting in silence, as if dumbfounded that the ferry had left the dock without them. The noise from the city beyond the gates grew louder. She suddenly realized how thirsty she was.
She took Elisabet with her. Hand in hand they walked toward the closest and biggest of the wrought iron gates. A guard wearing a blue uniform watched them approach. Holding her daughter’s hand, Anna dared to go over to him. He looked down at them without saying a word. She raised her hand and pretended to lift an invisible cup to her lips and then pointed at Elisabet. At first the guard didn’t react. Then he gave a nearly imperceptible nod to his left before once again staring straight ahead. Anna curtsied, and she and Elisabet followed the wall of the building past rows of windows covered with iron bars. After passing three more gates they saw a group of boys wearing rugged shirts huddled
next to the wall. They had dark hair, and Anna thought she recognized them from among the Irish passengers onboard. She saw water spraying over the boys’ bare feet. When she got closer, they stood still. Next to the wall was a simple black faucet. Traces of rust colored the wall’s cracked plaster, and thick, green moss grew along the pavement. She heard the sudden shriek of seagulls, then silence. Her head began throbbing.
The smallest boy made as if to block their way, but a bigger boy pulled him aside so they could step forward. Anna went over and touched the faucet. The metal was still warm from the boys’ hands. When she turned the faucet, a trickle of dark water spurted out and ran over her feet. She leaned down, careful to hold her shawl away, and tried to catch the stream of water in her mouth.
The water was unexpectedly cold and tasted strongly of iron. Anna watched as Elisabet repeatedly caught the water in her cupped hands and slowly drank it, the pooled water reflecting the sky. Then she found herself thanking the boys, as if the faucet belonged to them. They gave her an anxious smile and stayed where they were. Anna took Elisabet’s hand, and they walked back along the dock. A ray of sunshine appeared out in the bay, glided over the waves toward the far shore and then was gone. For a moment she experienced such a sense of calm at being where she was. This is me. Right here. It passed through her like a change in the weather.
She and Gustaf took turns accompanying the children to the water faucet. She thought Gustaf and Carl were gone a long time, and she started to worry. Others had now discovered there was water to drink, and from where she was sitting Anna could see a short line had formed. But her husband and son were back well before the ferry arrived, moving just as slowly as the first one, a dark shape against the gray water beneath a long plume of black smoke. This time they were among the first to go onboard, and they kept having to move farther back as the deck filled with more people and baggage. There was nowhere to sit, just a large open space on the afterdeck. The children sat on the suitcase, dangling their feet. When the boat started moving, Anna gazed at the city skyline where the tallest buildings now came into view. In the opposite direction she saw a big bridge spanning the water, though half of it was shrouded in fog.