Authors: Lorna Lee
They slowed their pace as they navigated the streets bustling with adults of countless nationalities hauling suitcases and children of various ages. People bumped into each other because someone was invariably looking up at the tall buildings, none of which carried the scars of war, reminding these immigrant families the reason they had come here.
This is a new city in many ways.
Joe stopped in front of a delicious-smelling place. “You two must be hungry. Let’s git some chow.” He opened the door and the savory scents of fresh bread and tomato sauce enveloped them. Meri hadn’t noticed her hunger until she smelled the food.
“What canna I get for-a-you?” A man in a once-white apron, now covered in flour and tomato sauce, greeted them and showed them to a table with a bright red-and white checkered table cloth. A bottle of Chianti served as the centerpiece of the table.
“Whatdaya recommend?” Joe asked.
“We make-a da best spaghetti ana meat-a-ball in-a all of-a New York.” The man hitched his thumbs in the ties of his apron and stuck his chest out as he spoke.
Joe glanced at Meri. “You like Italian food?”
Meri shrugged.
They both turned to Jeannine.
She nodded, inhaling deeply. “Mamma, whatever it is, it smells delicious!” Then in English, “We like.”
Meri nodded. “We like.”
Joe held up three fingers to the waiter. “We’ll take three. Make ‘em big portions. We’re hungry!”
“
Eccellente! In un momento!
” He nearly ran through a swinging door. When he returned, he busied himself setting the table with napkins, utensils, and wine glasses. He raised a finger, dashed away into the back, and returned with a platter of cheeses and a loaf of bread.
“Help-a youself to da vino.” He motioned to the Chianti already on the table. They did. Even Jeannine.
Their meals came out after about twenty-five minutes, giving them plenty of time to drink and quell their hunger on bread and cheese. The waiter placed the over-full plates in front of them. They were piled high with a type of food Meri and Jeannine had never eaten before and Joe only had once or twice.
“Good,” Jeannine said, speaking with her mouth full of noodles.
Meri gave her a disapproving look. “Please, don’t speak with a mouth full of food.” Then she smiled. “I agree. Whatever this is, it’s delicious.” In English, she said, “Yes, good.”
“Sorry, Mamma.” Her mouth was still full of food.
“This is great, ain’t it?” Joe spoke before he swallowed his food.
Meri rolled her eyes. Jeannine laughed. Joe shrugged his shoulders, took another bite, and laughed along with Jeannine.
Joe paid for the meal, and they lumbered with very full bellies and woozy heads toward Grand Central Station. Even with the cold March wind, Meri enjoyed walking the streets of her new city…her new home. She did not care how long it took to walk to their new apartment. “I want to smell and hear this amazing city. I don’t want to miss a thing.” Meri lagged behind the others, speaking softly. The wind blew her words away.
Joe and Jeannine stopped to let Meri catch up. He told Meri, “Git a move on! We got to git to the train by eight o’clock or else we got to stay in the city tonight, and I ain’t got enough money.”
“Fine. Train at eight.” Meri said. She only half-listened and half-replied. The other part of her was absorbed in the lights and sounds of the city.
Joe hailed a cab. “I hate to spend the money, but how else we gonna git there, what with your Ma daydreamin’?” Joe spoke to Jeannine, who understood a little of what he said. She smiled and nodded.
They got to the train station with fifteen minutes left to spare after purchasing three tickets to Greyton, NY. Meri wasn’t paying attention.
I wonder what our New York City apartment looks like. Finally resting in our own home will feel so good.
“You home big? You Papa live there,
yes? Meri tugged on Joes coat sleeve as he led them down to the platform for the train.
“Uh. It ain’t too big. Big enough for now. I’ll find better digs when I git the money. Livin’ with Pa ain’t no picnic.”
“Big enough. Good.” Satisfied, Meri disregarded the rest of what Joe said about money and his father.
Maybe he’s rich?
The train pulled up to the platform. The three of them boarded a crowded car. Joe looked for three adjacent empty seats. Savvy travelers quickly grabbed the few single seats, so they remained standing as the train doors closed. Meri stared at Joe with knitted eyebrows and a frown. “Long day. Tired. How long?”
Joe shrugged and flashed Meri a crooked smile. “It’s gonna git a darned sight longer before it’s over. We should git seats before too long.”
“No long. Good” Hope softened Meri’s voice and eyes.
“Fer the seats.” The train lurched forward. Everyone standing grabbed for something solid to steady themselves. Joe reached for the overhead bar holding the luggage in place. Meri grabbed the back of a seat. Jeannine clutched her mother’s coat.
At the first stop, nearly a quarter of the people in the car stood to leave, giving Joe, Meri, and Jeannine a seat together. They settled in, their luggage secured above them. Meri took the space against the window. She wanted to watch the city from any vantage point she could.
“New York City is the biggest city in the world,” she told Jeannine in French.
“
Oui
, Mamma.” Jeannine yawned a response. She rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and soon fell asleep.
“Smart girl.” Joe said. “We should all try to git some shut-eye. Er. Um. Sleep.”
“No sleep. We miss stop.” Meri scolded softly, trying not to disturb Jeannine.
“No way we missin’ our stop. It’ll be mornin’ by the time we get there.”
“We no miss?”
“I promise.” Joe smiled and winked at his wife.
“Good. I tired. I rest.” Meri fell asleep in a few minutes.
§
The train stopped at many stations. Neither the coming and going of passengers nor the screech and lurch of the train woke Meri or Jeannine. Joe, however, roused at each stop, searching for their station, Albany. The capital of New York, situated nearly in the middle of the state on the eastern-most border, marked the half-way point in their train ride. His new family would have to change trains in the middle of the night and travel the remaining half of the state north, to his truck parked in Greyton. Meri found out about this later—when they were so far away from New York City she thought they were in another country.
Since they had been asleep most of the journey to Albany, Meri had no idea they had traveled a distance nearly equivalent from Paris to Luxembourg City. Departing the train, she saw a few small buildings in the darkness and asked Joe, “This New York City North?” Meri rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to hurry along her barely conscious daughter.
“Mamma. I’m tired. All I want is a bed to sleep in and to get away from this cold. It was never this cold in Paris.” Jeannine, a teenager, had an annoying habit of whining.
“Wake up and walk properly, Jeannine. You’re too old to snivel like a little child. I’m tired and cold too.” Meri’s nerves frayed at the edges, not unlike the woolen scarf she wore around her shoulders.
“Joe, we home?”
“No. We’re in Albany. We got to wait for another train. That one will take us to Greyton, closer to home.”
“Another train? How big New York City is?” Meri’s eyes widened.
“I kept tellin’ you. I, um we, don’t live in New York City. We just had to pass through it to git to my real home in Burtsville, New York.” Seated on a wooden bench in the station, Joe held Meri’s hand. “I hope you finally git it.” He said the last part more to himself than to his wife.
She squeezed his hand in the way frightened, despairing people do. “What Burt Ville?”
“It’s our home. Well, my Pa’s home….” Joe bowed his head.
“Where New York City?” Meri’s voice became unpleasantly high and screechy. Jeannine, now fully awake, watched her mother for signs she should be concerned. She grabbed her mother’s other hand.
“We left the city a coon’s age ago. We’re gonna live in the county. New York’s a big place. It’s like Paris is just one city in France, right? There’s lots of country in France.” Joe searched Meri’s eyes for any flicker of comprehension.
Why is he talking about Paris and France? Does he want to send us back there? I didn’t give up everything, including my freedom, to marry him and travel all this way just to have him send me back! Even in this Burt Ville, I must be closer to New York City than if I stayed in Paris. I’ll never return to Paris. Never! He can’t force me.
Joe saw something in Meri’s eyes, something other than understanding. Her eyes turned darker gray and became stormy. “Hey, you okay? I sure wish someone here could help us talk to each other.”
“I no go back. I stay. Jeannine stay.” Meri shook her hand free of both daughter and husband, then folded her arms in front of her.
“Sure. Good.
Oui!
” Joe nodded.
“
Oui!
” Meri squared her shoulders, sat up straighter, and glowered at her homely husband.
This is not what I expected, but when has anything worked the way I thought it would?
§
As dawn broke, the train pulled into the Greyton station. Jeannine had been able to fall back to sleep with Meri’s assurances they were staying in America and everything would be fine. Meri, however, did not get more than a few fitful naps.
Everything doesn’t feel fine.
Joe stayed fully awake.
The few people remaining on the train departed. The weary trio got into Joe’s beat-up, red, Ford pick-up truck after Joe placed their bags in the snowy exterior bed. Meri frowned. Jeannine sat in the middle of the big leather bench seat. When she slid across to make room for her mother, her coat caught on a large rip in the seat. Since it was well below freezing, the coat fabric ripped on the frozen leather. Jeannine gasped and gave a wide-eyed worried glance to her mother, as if she might get in trouble for ruining her coat. Meri frowned again, but seeing Jeannine so frightened of her and this foreign land softened her. “I can mend your coat, Jeannine.”
How will I mend this situation I’ve gotten us into? My needle and thread can’t work the kind of magic I think I’m going to need.
The drive to Burtsville was silent except for Joe occasionally whistling a tune. When Meri looked over at him with her now perpetual pensive face, he smiled and said, “Just happy we’re almost home.”
Meri sighed.
As they drove out of Greyton, Meri noticed the increasing number of trees and the decreasing number of everything else.
Where are all the streets, buildings, shops, people? Mon Dieu! Will we be the only humans in this place?
Joe finally turned off a bumpy road and onto an even bumpier one. After a few minutes of being jostled around in the cab of the truck, Joe stopped the truck. Meri could not move. After all she and Jeannine had been through—from Paris to the port, across the Atlantic, overnight in Ellis Island, the interminable train trip—they had reached their final destination. Home.
Meri began shaking.
She saw a hovel. Rusted, abandoned metal carcasses of former automobiles lay strewn around a fairly small single-story wooden structure with an almost flat-pitched roof. The roof had one large, sooty pipe poking out from the center of it, belching puffs of smoke at regular intervals. Attached to the main structure were two smaller after-thought additions, one with a window, and one without. None of the grimy windows had curtains. Adjacent to the “house” was a much smaller structure, nearly hidden among the trees and behind the metal junk. Several rusted barrels dotted the property, all of them smoldering or with open flames.
“Meri. This is where Pa and I live. I told you it ain’t much. It’ll be a roof over our heads for now.” Exhausted from the trip, Joe did his best to be enthusiastic. Meri could hear how hard he tried to be optimistic. His efforts did not help to squelch the panic arising within her.
Meri took a big breath. She took another.
This can’t be happening. No one said America looks like this. All Americans are supposed to be rich. He tricked me. Joe tricked me with his talk of New York City. Now I’m here married to this ugly liar. I can’t go back to Paris. There’s nothing for me there. I have to make a home of this…this…this disaster. Mon Dieu! Papa, where are you now to save me from this mess?
She steeled herself to face what she had chosen.
She made the mistake of looking at Jeannine. The girl’s face was colorless. “Mamma. I’m afraid. This place doesn’t look safe. Joe said this is our home? Please beg him to take us away from here. If this is America, I want to go back to Paris. I’ll even go back to the convent.” Jeannine started to shake.
Meri held her. “Jeannine, calm down. It’s not that ba—” Meri could no longer hold her feelings inside. A wave of anger, disappointment, betrayal, shock, and disgust washed over her. Both Vaarsara women clung to each other in the front seat of the truck. Silent tears turned into heaving sobs of distress.