Authors: Dixiane Hallaj
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Biographical, #Historical, #Historical Fiction
“That never made much difference,”
said
Wulf
. “The
Germans
s
i
nk anything in their paths without surfacing to see which flag
i
s flying on the mast
, and the British aren’t much better
.”
“But you were safe in your old ship,” she
said
. She had long since stopped searching the papers for
news
of sunken or damaged ships.
“No one
’
s ever safe,” said
Wulf
.
“Not even crossing the street in Lima, what with all th
ose
automobiles racing up and down the streets.
” He put his arm around her waist and gave her a playful squeeze.
“Anyway,
I didn’t have a choice
. The captain said that
he didn’t need a navigator for
coast crawling, and he liked the way the ship ran with the new man. Then the bosun
told him to
replace him as well. We’ve been shipping out together for so long we can’t quit now.”
Wulf
grinned at her. “He’s right, you know. Deep ocean pays a lot more than coast crawling—especially now.”
Lola felt a cold knot of fear in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not safe
.
”
She
couldn
’
t move beyond the idea of
Wulf
deliberately putting himself in harm’s way.
He looked at her seriously. “Speaking of not safe, how is the girl? At least when I’m on the ship I
’
m not
putting
the whole family and all our best friends
at risk
.”
“Her name
’
s Katie, and she’s feverish again,” answered Maggie.
“Katie?” asked Lola.
That didn’t sound Spanish.
“
It’s really
Catalina
,
but I kept thinking
of
the island so I decided to call her Katie.”
“I’d better go check on her shoulder. Maybe it
’
s collecting more infection.” Lola went off to clean Katie’s wound and change the dressing. It was easier to worry about Katie now than to face
Wulf
. The two men had already made their decision and the deed was done. It was best for her to be alone while she sorted it out in her mind.
Was
Wulf
doomed? Was this her curse? Perhaps her early sin of yielding to temptation when she was only a child had forever tainted her. Didn’t the Bible say somewhere that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the sons? That must surely pertain to mothers as well. Were none of her children destined to know their father?
“Am I going to die?” It was the first time the girl had spoken to her.
“No, Catalina, you
’
re much better, and you
’
re going to be fine.”
“Then why are you crying? Did he beat you?”
“No.” Lola had been unaware that her tears were flowing as she worried about
Wulf
. She brushed away her tears and smiled at the idea of him ever raising his hand to her. “He
’
d never beat me. I
’
m sad because he
’
s going to sea and it
’
s dangerous. I worry about him.”
“He bought me to work for you, and you
’
re the one taking care of me. Maybe he could get his money back. He got cheated.”
“Don’t be absurd
.
He didn’t buy you; he paid for your freedom. Do you understand the difference?”
“Mama.” Estela stood in the doorway. “Pop
Wulf
said to ask you if I could come in and meet Katie.” Lola smiled at the sight of her daughter and pushed her soul searching away for the moment. She must send her husband off with happy memories.
Two days later the bosun and
Wulf
, resplendent in new uniforms, boarded the SS Derrinshire, bound for San Francisco. Lola kissed her husband good-bye with a heavy heart and a
terrible sense of
dread. That night she dug out her rosary and began to pray.
Her days were as normal as she could make them. When the older children were in school, she took Carlota and Nellie on walks and resumed her daily search of the newspapers. Her nights were filled with nightmares and prayer. “If I can say three rosaries tonight, he
’
ll live until tomorrow…If I make a novena to St. Christopher, he
’
ll live out the week…If I tell the Virgin Mary how much he means to me, she
’
ll keep him safe…” During the daylight
hours,
Lola knew that one did not bargain with God. She scolded herself for treating God and the Virgin Mary and the saints as she treated street merchants. During the dark of night her fears returned, and she became obsessed with prayer. Days turned into weeks and Lola became more and more anxious.
Finally
the day came when she heard the sound she had been listening for—the voice of the bosun
at the door
. She ran to the door in glad expectation, her heart beating with excitement. The bosun fill
ed
the doorway as he embraced Maggie. Lola strained to look around him and his eyes met hers. Instantly Lola knew something was wrong. She let out a small scream and grabbed a nearby chair to support herself.
“What happened? Is he hurt? Is he…?” She choked on the question. Faster than she could form words, all the horrible scenes from her nightmares flashed through her mind: everything from the Derrinshire fighting off an enemy ship and
Wulf
being killed in battle to his being washed overboard in a storm.
The bosun rushed to her and helped her into the chair. He knelt in front of her and Lola could see tears come to his eyes. Her own tears ran down her face. Maggie appeared beside her and thrust a glass of whiskey into her hand. Lola heard her teeth chattering against the glass as she tried to drink. The bosun began to talk quietly.
“Lola, I honestly don’t know what happened.”
“What?” croaked Lola, gasping for breath from swallowing the strong drink. “You’re his best friend. How could you not know?”
“We had different duty schedules. He went ashore our last day in port and that
’
s the last we saw of him. When it was time to sail, the harbor pilot came aboard and we sailed. I didn’t know until the next day that
Wulf
hadn
’
t returned to the ship. It’s a big ship and the officers eat and sleep in their own area. I assumed he was doing his job until the first officer sent for me and asked what I knew about him. He was furious that
Wulf
had jumped ship.
“I told him there was no way
Wulf
jumped ship. I said we’d shipped out together since we were lads; he
’
d never do that. I tried to make him contact the authorities in San Francisco to see if
Wulf
was in trouble. Of course he didn’t believe me. We
’
re the new guys and he thought they had signed on a bad apple.
“The trip back was really bad. I had to watch every move I made because they didn’t trust me anymore either. Dear God, Lola, the whole way back I worried about you and how I was going to tell you.” Maggie was now sitting on the ground next to her husband. He put his arm around her.
“Me and Maggie want you to know that you
’
re family. You and your youngsters will be just like our own young ones, and we
’
ll take care of you. Not saying it won’t be tough without
Wulf
’s share of the
expense money
, but we’ve been through tough before. Tough is something we know how to deal with. I know you; tough is something you can deal with, too. We’ll be all right.
” He brushed tears from her cheek.
“When we get to San Francisco next time, I’ll look everywhere.”
Lola nodded dumbly. She had no words; she wasn’t sure she had any emotions. She felt empty inside. A voice inside her echoed in the emptiness, “He just walked away from us.” Another voice said, “But he loved
us too much to
do that. I know he
’
s hurt—or worse.”
She started to get up and go to her room, but her stomach spasmed and she vomited the whiskey, then everything began to spin around her. The next thing she knew she was lying in her bed in her nightdress and Maggie was sponging off her face. Catalina was holding Nellie and looking worried.
Tears of hopelessness ran down Lola’s face.
She had prayed fervently for his safety, but why would God stir himself to save one good man when hundreds were being slaughtered daily in this senseless war?
“I can’t survive this again. It hurts worse than death. I just can’t do it again.”
“You can and you will,” said Maggie firmly. “There are three frightened children outside this door who have just lost the only father they have, and Nellie hasn
’
t even had a chance at life. You can
’
t abandon them. Four lives depend on you; they need their mother more than ever now. It
’
s your duty to think of them rather than yourself.”
Lola nodded weakly and allowed Maggie to help her sit. She took Nellie from Catalina and put her to her breast. As the hungry baby drew milk from her body, she concentrated on the love she felt for the small helpless infant and her other children. Maggie was right; she had no other choice. She had to get through this.
Catalina brought a cup of nourishing broth. Once Nellie was sated and sleeping peacefully, she asked to see her other children. She talked to them about staying strong and making Pop
Wulf
proud of them.
~ ~ ~
Two days after the bosun left for San Francisco, promising to leave no stone unturned in his search for
Wulf
, a strange boy came to the door asking for Señora Lola.
“The Station Master said you
’
d pay me when I delivered this note. A conductor on one of the morning trains brought it.” The boy held up a creased piece of paper, adding his own dirty fingerprints. Lola counted a few coins into his hand.
El Patrón is very ill. I beg you to come quickly.
Tío Juan
Of course it was out of the question. Nellie was too small to leave and too small to be exposed to whatever sickness might have struck her father. Sadly, it was not possible.
How did
Juan
know where to send the message? Enriqueta. Enriqueta was the only thread that connected her to her former life. The signature, “Tío Juan,” reminded her of their shared history. How could she refuse?
“Maggie!”
The women of the house all agreed that Nellie was old enough to drink cow’s milk. She was already eating bananas and mashed yams. The children would all stay—the risk of infection was too great to ignore. Late that night as she nursed Nellie for the last time, Lola wrote a letter to the manager of the Central Bank naming Enriqueta as custodian of the securities. She sealed the note and the key to the safety deposit box in an envelope she would entrust to Maggie to be opened in case of her death.
Lola was at the train station before dawn and was wearily mounting the steps to Enriqueta’s as night was falling. The sisters talked far into the night, alternately crying and giggling like young girls.
As dawn lightened the sky, Concha brought them coffee.
“Thank you, Concha,” said Lola sleepily.
“It’s Concepción now,” said Concha shyly. “I’ve been baptized with a real Christian name.”
“I’m happy for you, Concepción,” said Lola with a smile.
Enriqueta got a large package down from the top of her wardrobe and put it on the bed. “I kept a few things that reminded me of you,” she said with a laugh. “When you disappeared, Juan brought me the belongings you left behind.” She held up the split skirt and Lola saw her riding boots. She also saw yellowed papers with sketches that brought back a flood of memories.
“I’m not sure I can fit in that any more. That was two children ago.”
“Do you really want to try riding sidesaddle? Or rent a carriage? Try it on. I’ll fix it while you eat breakfast.”
By the time Lola rode up to the plantation stables, every bone in her body reminded her how long it had been since she last rode a horse.
She limped stiffly to the house, followed by a stable boy who carried the carpetbag she had strapped to the saddle.