Ship of Dolls (18 page)

“How can they do that?” Lexie looked at the rough water crashing against the rocks at either side of the wide inlet to the bay. Wouldn’t waves sweep away any posts they tried to put in?

“They’ll do it,” the sailor said before walking on. “They’re going to call it the Golden Gate.”

“The Golden Gate,” Lexie repeated. She thought her eyes must be shining. She was sailing under an almost-​bridge called the Golden Gate on her way to Mama. She clutched the rail while they sailed into San Francisco Bay. Seagulls screeched overhead, diving and swooping.

Lexie held the rail even tighter. She ached for her first glimpse of Mama.

Ships of all sizes crowded the piers that jutted into the bay. Some had funnels. Masts rose from others, their sails furled. Excitement ran through all the passengers. The sense of waiting was over. People were gathering possessions and looking for newly made friends to say good-​bye or to make plans to meet in the future.

Everyone seemed to be talking at once. If possible, the excitement ran even higher as the ship eased to a space along a pier. Lexie squeezed over to make room for Grandma at the rail. “She’ll be wearing the pleated skirt and red top,” she told Grandma. “I’ve thought of all her outfits, and that’s what she’ll choose to wear. Because she knows it’s my favorite.”

Grandma smiled and patted her hand. Lexie couldn’t stay still. She bounced on her toes as she looked from people crowding the rail to the throngs on the dock.

People filled the wharf, waving, calling out, hurrying back and forth. People on the ship shouted and waved, too. The shouts on ship and shore got louder whenever anyone spotted a friend or relative.

Lexie waved and shouted with the rest while she searched the people on the dock below. “Mama! Where are you? Do you see me? Wave if you do! I’m up here!”

The noise crowded around her with the people. Gradually, Lexie became a silent island in the middle of it all. Mama was there somewhere. But she couldn’t see her. Lexie leaned hard against the rail, as if that would get her closer to the dock.

The crew finished settling a gangplank in place. At last, passengers were allowed to go ashore. Lexie saw Louise and her mother pushing to the front of the line. Louise would be glad to feel solid ground beneath her feet.

Never mind Louise. Lexie swept her gaze across the people on the dock again and again. So many people. So many strangers. She wanted to see Mama before joining all those people. Where was she?

Fear swelled inside. Lexie knew her voice sounded shrill. She didn’t care. She wanted to scream like a three-​year-​old. “I don’t see her! Where’s Mama? Where is she?”

The entire world had narrowed down to a crowded dock that to Lexie looked horribly empty. “Grandma, I can’t see her!
Where is my mama?
”

L
exie screamed again, “Mama!”

Grandma’s hand came warm and solid on her shoulder. “That flapper! I might have known —” She stopped herself, then said with an obvious effort to be patient, “She’s been delayed, I expect.”

“Delayed?” Tears blurred Lexie’s eyes as she tried to look at Grandma.

“Something’s held her up. You know your mama. It’s always the last minute with her.” Grandma turned toward the gangplank. “By the time we sort out our luggage, no doubt she’ll find us.”

Mama should be here now. Something must have happened to her. A sick feeling shivered down through Lexie. She couldn’t leave the rail.

On the dock, a marching band played bouncy music that should have made her feet dance. Lexie stood as if glued to the deck, searching past the band and through the crowds, hoping for a glimpse of Mama.

“Come along,” Grandma said in her no-​nonsense voice. “We’ll join the others collecting luggage.”

“If we leave the rail, she might not see us.”

“She’ll see us.” Impatience edged into Grandma’s words. “Come along, Electra.”

They threaded past crew members carrying luggage onto the dock. When Lexie and Grandma located theirs among the rest, Mama still had not come. Grandma sat on her trunk while Lexie walked restlessly back and forth. Sailors shouted as they worked cranes to lower freight. Seagulls swooped and screeched. She felt as if her thoughts were swooping and screeching right along with the gulls.

Hope lifted briefly when her steps carried her near the ticket office, but Mama wasn’t there, either. What if Mama was hurt? What if a motorcar had hit her while she was running to the dock?

Grandma would say, “Never borrow trouble.”

Lexie made herself study a travel poster with a picture of a Japanese temple and a young woman in her kimono. And her obi, she told herself.
Obi
was what Miss Tompkins called the wide sash wrapped around the kimono’s middle and folded in a huge bow at the back. The narrow sash like a rope that went around the obi and held the big bow in place was the
obi-​jime.

The poster said,
Come and visit the Land of the Rising Sun.
Then there were a lot of words in different languages that might have said the same thing. Lexie wished she had Emily Grace with her, so she could show the doll where she would be going. The poster said the people in Japan wanted visitors. That must mean they would be happy to welcome Emily Grace and the other dolls.

She looked around for Louise, wondering if she still had the doll with her, but Louise and her mother had gone. Millicent and her father stood a short distance away with an older couple, all of them sharing hugs and tears.

Lexie tried to feel happy for Millie, but deep inside, she envied the little girl. She should be caught into Mama’s arms by now. Mama should be saying, “There you are, kiddo! I’ve missed you like crazy! We’ll never be apart again!”

She would be here. She would be. She was just delayed, like Grandma said; that was all.

Slowly Lexie walked to Grandma, but she couldn’t resist looking back at Millicent and her family. Mr. James and the older man were loading luggage into the trunk of a big black car with soaring fenders and wide running boards. When Millie looked over and saw Lexie watching, she waved, holding Annie close.

Lexie fought back a wrench of regret.
Annie!
How could she have given away her doll?

Mr. James glanced around, then said something to the others before walking over to Grandma. “Is someone meeting you, Mrs. Lewis?”

“Thea . . . my daughter-​in-​law . . . has apparently been delayed,” Grandma answered. “I see your family found you.”

“Yes.” He glanced toward the others, but his forehead creased. “Your daughter-​in-​law may have sent a message. Have you asked the ticket agent?”

Relief flooded Grandma’s face. She lurched to her feet. “I hadn’t thought of it. I’ll do that right now.”

Mr. James gestured for her to sit back on the trunk. “Please. Allow me.” Before Grandma could argue, he strode across the dock to the crowded office.

“It never crossed my mind,” Grandma told Lexie. “The agent will have a telephone. Your mother may have called.”

There will be a message.
Relief swept through Lexie.
Mama wouldn’t leave us sitting here wondering what to do next.

Minutes later, Mr. James returned with a folded paper in one hand. Lexie’s heart leaped. There was a message. Of course there was. She saw Grandma’s name written across the top. Mr. James waited while Grandma opened the note.

“She’s joining people for an early supper,” Grandma said slowly. “She wants us to meet her at the restaurant. Here’s the address.” Grandma looked from the note to Lexie. “My stars, does she expect us to carry our luggage on our backs?”

“There’s ample space in my parents’ town car,” Mr. James said. “It will be our pleasure to transport you and your luggage to Lexie’s mother.”

“We can’t take you out of your way,” Grandma exclaimed.

Lexie wanted to protest,
Yes, we can!
She tugged at Grandma’s sleeve. “They have room, Grandma.”

Mr. James looked toward the town car again. Millie stood beside the front fender with her grandmother’s arm around her. It looked like Millie was giving one-​ or two-​word answers to the older woman, but she was talking. She wasn’t stuck in silence like before.

Tears glimmered in Mr. James’s eyes when he turned again to Grandma. “I can never repay the debt you are owed. Please let us do this small favor.”

Grandma nodded, rising to her feet. “If our little homemade doll has helped Millicent, that is payment enough for us. But we will accept your kind offer.”

“Thank you.” He hoisted Grandma’s trunk to one shoulder and took Lexie’s suitcase in his free hand. They followed him along the dock. While he lowered the luggage into the open trunk, Lexie climbed into the car’s backseat with Millie and Grandma. Mr. James joined his parents up front. He half turned to smile back at Millie, as if afraid she might forget how to talk again if he took his eyes off her for long.

Mama’s going to look at me like that
, Lexie told herself.
She’ll be so glad to see me, she won’t be able to stop looking at me and smiling.

The older Mr. James cranked down his window and rested one arm on the sill while the salty-​scented air blew in, mixed with the exhaust of motorcars and the smell of coal smoke. To Lexie, Portland seemed a small town compared to San Francisco.

The waterfront bustled with ships unloading and people rushing everywhere. The city streets were even more thronged. She couldn’t see the tops of buildings on either side of the car. When she looked ahead through the front window, she saw buildings farther away, soaring into the sky. Could they really find Mama in this big, busy city?

The fluttery feeling in her stomach said they could. It said they were almost to her. Mama must have had a good reason for not meeting the ship. The people she was with were important. Soon she would tell Lexie all about it.

Maybe those people were important to Toby. The thought hit suddenly. Toby had insisted that Mama come with him to the restaurant. That made sense. It was Toby’s fault. It wasn’t Mama’s choice to leave Lexie waiting at the ship. It was Toby. That was just like him. She remembered him saying that children didn’t belong with people who worked at night and slept all day. Toby didn’t want kids around at all.

Lexie put her disappointment and hurt into one big bundle with Toby’s name on top. Being left to find their way from the ship didn’t matter when it was Toby’s fault. And soon she would be with Mama.

Thinking that made Lexie feel better. But she wondered how Mama, who had been married to wonderful Papa, had ever chosen Toby.

They drove up a hill and down again and past a park in a big square where ladies pushed baby buggies, children ran about, and a band played. Enormous hotels and department stores cast long shadows. Before Lexie could see everything, Mr. James turned onto a side street and drove several more blocks.

The streets were quieter here, lined with small businesses. From curtains in windows above and flowerpots on some of the sills, Lexie guessed people must live on the higher floors.

“There’s your street address,” Millie’s grandpa called over his shoulder. “There on the right with the dark-​purple awning.”

Lexie leaned forward to peer through the front window, her heart pounding so hard she almost thought it would leap out of her chest.

M
illie’s grandpa pulled the big town car into a space right in front of the purple awning. Her father stepped out and came back to open the car door.

As Lexie followed Grandma out, a door swung open below the awning. Mama rushed through. Her eyes matched the sparkle of her rhinestone earrings, and she was wearing the red top and pleated skirt that seemed to swing even when she was still. “You’re here! At last, kiddo! I’ve missed you so much!”

Lexie fought happy tears. She clung to Mama, hugging her just as she had meant to do on the dock after running from the ship into her arms. Lexie could feel Mama’s energy vibrating through her. Her eyes sparkled. Her skirt pleats danced.

Lexie remembered Toby saying, “Your mama never lets a minute pass her by without catching hold of it with both hands.” Grandma said an ordinary person got exhausted just being around her.

That was Mama. Sometimes she forgot to eat or sweep the floor, but she was more fun than anybody, and Lexie couldn’t think of anything better than being together again.