Free Touched by Fire by Irene N.Watts Page A

my shawl on the one opposite, to save it for Rosie. Then I hoist my suitcase and picnic basket up the little set of steps. I look down and see a woman settling her little girl on the bottom berth.
    At that moment, Rosie hurries in and leans against thebunk post. She is out of breath, as if she’s been running. For a moment, I wonder if we’re on the wrong ship or if something has happened for her to look so anxious. I realize that I already look on Rosie as a friend, the first girlfriend I’ve made since Malka disappeared.

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STEERAGE
    “I tried to catch up with you, Miriam,” Rosie says, “but, every time, someone pushed between us! I was worried about losing you. You have got us top bunks –
perfetto
, how you say? Perfect! A window would be nice, but you can’t have everything.” She climbs up and surveys our new home, then starts to unpack. Others come in – two young women, sisters or friends, one pale with dark shadows under her eyes and her stomach bulging out under her shawl. She is brave to travel when she’s expecting a baby.
    The other woman helps her onto the bunk. “Rest, Anna,” she says. “I’m going to be right above you. I’ll unpack in a minute. Let me help you take off your boots. You’re supposed to keep your feet up. Don’t argue – you need to lie down for a while.” She’s bossy, so I’m sure they are sisters!
    Each bunk has a straw mattress covered in blue checked gingham, and the pillow is filled with seaweed. I smell it. This is the first scent of the sea I have experienced since coming aboard. There is a thin woolen blanket, but I brought an extra shawl and another blanket, in case it gets cold.
    The small cabin soon fills up. We introduce ourselves. We are going to be sharing this small windowless space for many days at sea, so we need to know a bit about each other. I hope we get along. I don’t expect everyone to be as nice as Rosie. We are so lucky to have found each other!
    I try to remember all the names. Fanny is the mother of little Essie, who is four. They share one bunk. She says she is meeting her husband in New York and that they have been separated for three years. She is from Danzig, and before that, from Bialystok.
    “I talk to Essie about her papa,” Fanny says. “She doesn’t really remember him, I’m afraid. He writes that he has been working in a butcher’s shop, on Hester Street. It is hard to picture these strange streets and the new life he leads,” she says.
    Anna tells us that she and her sister, Eva, are traveling with their husbands. They hope they will be able to meet on the boat, perhaps on deck. They are all garment workers and plan to find an apartment and work from there. They would have liked to have a family cabin, but it is cheaperfor the men to travel dormitory-style. They have come from Vienna, Austria. There are so many nationalities on this one ship, yet America welcomes us all!
    The confidences start almost at once. As we unpack, we share our hopes. We are human beings with names, not numbers waiting in line to be called, counted, questioned, hurried on, or sent back. We are alike because we are emigrants, but different too, each with her own story.
    Two girls, looking a year or so older than Rosie, have just come in. They collapse with exhaustion, filling the floor space with their mounds of luggage. Now only one bunk is left. I doubt that it will stay empty for long. The ship is going to stop one more time, at Cherbourg, to take on more passengers.
    The girls brighten up as they shed their belongings. “I’m Tanya,” one says, “and this is my cousin, Riva. We are not married yet,” she says with a giggle.
    Riva says, “We come from Grodno, Russia, and hope to find rich American husbands! My brother has found me a place as an assistant cook in a big private house, where he is a chauffeur. He has been in America for four years.”
    Tanya says, “I will be a nursemaid, with the same family. We will be on trial for three