Heartbreak Island

Heartbreak Island

By Virginia Allen “Great Grandma is here, Great Grandma is here!” Lucas and Louise hollered when they saw old Ann Baliff’s silhouette through the taxi cab window; it reminded them of black ice. Even though she was 100, Ann needed no help getting out of the maize colored cab. Ann was ecstatic to be at her great grandchildren’s house. Her feet crunched the leaves on the ground while she gradually walked towards the giant, but friendly looking house. Ann lifted and dropped the lacteous knocker. When the door opened, she was welcomed by the smiling face of Lilly Baliff. Somewhere in the house, you could hear little feet hastening to get to the entryway. “Stop tripping me, Lucas!” someone shrieked after a great crash. Seconds later, Lucas Baliff entered and panted, “Louise knocked over the lamp and broke it, on purpose!” Louise stomped in and denounced, “You better run, you weasel!” Lucas did his chortle of confidence, but this resulted in him running away from Louise, who hooted, “Get back here Lucas, so I can re-arrange your face!” Twenty minutes later, Lilly succeeded in separating them, and bringing Louise to the maroon couch in the family room and Lucas to Lilly’s room. “You will both stay where I put you until you can handle yourselves, understand?” Lilly hooted. “Not when Great Grandma is here!” they both whined. “Okay, but you can only listen to one story,” Lilly gave in, “unless, Great Grandma Baliff wants to rest first.” “Now, why would I want rest? I may be old but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any hop left in me. I am most jolly and happy. Of course, I’ll tell Lucas and Louise a story,” Ann exclaimed, quite loudly too. “YES!” Lucas and Louise said together. Lilly led Ann to the family room and to a cushiony seat for her to tell a story to the two anxious children. “Tell the story about the time you and Great Grandpa met!” Louise requested. “No, that one makes me sick!” Lucas argued. “I’m going to tell you about the time I came to America.” Ann proclaimed. “That was the most frightening time of my life. I was only 7 years old, and Denmark seemed like home until World War I in 1914.” “Wow, Great Grandma,” Lucas muttered, “you’re old.” “Be quiet weasel, that’s the most horrible thing I ever heard!” Louise objected. “Now, let’s begin our story. It all started in 1914, when World War I was being fought in Denmark… “Can we come out of the cellar now, Mama?” I gagged to the woman holding me so tightly; I could suffocate from lack of breath. She only jumped in fright and shivered slightly. “Can we come out?” I spoke louder this time. “Keep your voice down; they could find us,” Louse murmured. I stood for a moment, wondering who ‘they’ was. I had not the slightest clue as to why I was in a stinky cellar hiding from ‘they’ with Mama, Papa, my older brother, Neils, my younger sister, Myrtle, and my younger sister, Babbett. “Neils?” I asked. “Please be quiet, Ann, you’re scaring Mother.” “But Neils,” I pleaded, “Who is they?” “Well, I guess that is anyone you want it to be.” he replied. “No, the 'they' we are hiding from.” I whined for a reply. “They as in bombs and soldiers and war people,” he answered wearing a look that pleaded for satisfaction. “Huh?” I questioned again. “It’s World War I, Ann,” he replied hoping for satisfaction. Again, he did not receive it, “Why would the world fight in Denmark? We are happy people making bread and cookies at the bakery, mmmmm…” “I wonder why that is-” “Be quiet Neils. Mother thinks soldiers captured us thinking we are spies and just killed all her children. I’m afraid she is going to die of a heart attack!” my father, Ubrick, snapped. Soon after this, I was holding Babbett, listening to a conversation that ended in my family losing all their money to pay for a boat trip to a place called America. Neils told me that the streets were paved with gold, and it was a place that all problems would go away forever. “Forever?” I asked him. “Forever,” he answered. I liked America, but I loved Denmark more than anything. I told him that I would like to stay here with the bakery. He told me we would have an even bigger bakery in America, and it would smell so strongly of sweets and bread it would make your tummy go flip-flop. I was starting to like America and I started calling it Cookieland. Then, Neils told me about a place called ‘Heartbreak Island’ where people would stick pins in your eyes. I was beginning to think Denmark sounded better. Neils continued telling me about the wonderful things and I decided maybe it would be worth it. He told me about running water and I thought, My, that is fascinating, America seems wonderful-riches, cookies, and running water! We were going to escape at night and wait for a ship in the morning, and hopefully we wouldn’t get captured. I put a few of my belongings in a small bag; I took my music box, my second best dress (I would wear my best), the dirt of Denmark (something to remind me of the place I love most), and a few coins I could trade in at Ellis Island (Heartbreak Island). I thought we could wait until World War I was over, but Mother would sometimes go in a trance and faint or not hear or say anything and everyone was worried about her. Myrtle wasn’t herself anymore. She didn’t try to find humor and started getting higher temperatures. “The war will end Neils, why do we have to leave?” I asked over and over again. “I know Ann, but Mother is getting very sick, and Father is so worried like the rest of us. She could go mad with fear, and Myrtle isn’t the joyful little girl I knew.” Neils always answered me with a voice that said we had to leave. The night we left to the Silkeborg train station, that shouldn’t be far from Viborg, where I lived. Papa told me we would take the Silkeborg Express to Esbjerg Bay. I wasn’t excited to walk to the train station in night’s shadow, but agreed. Just before we left, Mama fainted. My Dad stood beside her for ten minutes saying, “Louise, Louise dear, wake up!” I would have argued, but I wanted Mama to hold me; I was scared. Neils reminded him we would miss the train and my Father had to carry her. Neils now had to carry his bag, Father’s bag, and Mother’s bag. So, I had to carry my bag, Myrtle’s bag, hold Babbett, and try and help Myrtle, for she had the most horrible fever. Neils promised he would carry my suitcase if I felt I would collapse under the weight, but I moved on. I thought Neils was suffering more than I did. He was catching Myrtle’s fever. Mama woke up after two miles of pain and suffering. She talked with Papa a little bit; then Papa muttered, “Let’s take a rest.” Neils murmured, “We will miss the train!” Papa said, “We won’t; it leaves in three hours, and we only have four miles left!” “We don’t have any time to waste!” I soon pleaded, “Can we please sit down?” Neils hesitated, but sat down. Papa laid Mama on a patch of grass, then came to us and panted, “Your mother is getting better. I think because we are outside and alive. She can walk now; I just am letting her get some more rest. I’ll carry mine and Mama’s things; and Ann; she will take care of Myrtle and Babbett.” I sighed in relief; so did Neils. Papa went and helped Mama up and walked over with her squeezing his hand tightly. Two hours later we were at the Silkeborg train station. I carved my name on the bench while we waited with my music box key. My name sat there, its words not very clear… Ann Jacinta Baliff I sat on the old, chipped, wood bench for what seemed like an eternity, until the clock read 2:30 A.M. We got on the Silkeborg Express, and I sat with Mama and Myrtle. I sank into the soft, scarlet seats quite comfortably and started feeling very sleepy. The next thing I knew, Myrtle’s face was looking at me, “Get up! We’re at Esbjerg bay! The strange people in uniforms are going to check your health and they speak in Danish!” she caroled in a happy and friendly voice. “Your better, Myrtle! Of course, they speak in Danish. It’s a Danish boat! When did you get better?” I hollered in surprise. “I fell asleep, then woke up, and felt better! It was strange when I was sick though. Everything was fuzzy, and I had a terrible headache,” she told me, “Is everyone okay? How’s Mama?” I questioned on. “Yes, everyone is fine and on the boat except you and me. Neils is being inspected right now!” she continued in her cheerful, little voice. “Let’s go, then!” I hummed as we skipped hand in hand to Neils and a Danish man in blue uniform. “Now, you, little girl, what is your full name and your age?” the man asked Myrtle. “Myrtle Sadie Baliff, and I’m 6, sir.” she replied. The man quickly checked her health and after he finished, Neils asked, “Is her health alright?” “Wonderful, her mother must be good.” The man replied, “Whose next?” came the added question. His deep, nasally voice scared me, but I replied, “Ann Jacinta Baliff, and I’m 7, sir.” He checked my health and I was soon on the enormous boat with everyone else. Mama was holding Babbett with a worried look on her face. “Mama, what’s wrong?” I asked sweetly, afraid I might startle her. “Babbett-am um, is a uhh, sick with a ri-rising, fe-fe-fever,” she gasped between sobs. “Now, Louise, these people will help us, because if we don’t make it through Ellis Island the ship will pay for our trip back to Denmark. They don’t want to do that, so we’re in good hands.” Papa tried to assure her, but not succeeding, for she was still sobbing loudly. The next three weeks that were full of loud immigrants speaking many languages, salty air, quiet waves, and Mama’s sobs were not the best weeks of my life. I would have had Myrtle for company, but she was seasick. I would try to talk to Neils, if he wasn’t speaking to attractive Danish girls. Papa told him he was coming of age to marry someone. Papa, I knew, needed a second Mama to help run things when we got to America. Babbett’s fever was getting worse; so were Mama’s sobs. I could no longer sleep at night. They were full of the sound of tears coming from Mama and Babbett. I had absolutely nothing to do except dream of America and of Denmark. I began missing Denmark more the longer we ventured across the chilly Atlantic Ocean. I would close my eyes and smell cookies that came fresh from the oven, mmmmm…how they made me crave the delicious foods that I used to know of. When I opened my eyes again, the sweet smell turned into the smell of salt. The sound of an oven opening and closing turned into the giggle of a girl Neils was talking to. … “Wake up Ann!” Myrtle hooted, “You have to. You can see the Statue of Liberty right now!” I immediately got up. Neils told me about Lady Liberty. Now, I finally got to see her! Myrtle and I ran up on deck, shoving past people gazing upward. Myrtle jumped up on Papa’s shoulders to see her. I ran to Neils, but he was with Emily Wright, one of the girls he often flirted with Ester Maywell, one of the girls he often flirted with. I didn’t care; I was going to see the Statue of Liberty! “Neils, lift me up! I want to see it!” He lifted me up, knowing exactly what I was talking about and I saw her through thick fog. There was a woman, green as the sea, a torch in one hand and a book in the other. She wore a crown-like thing on top of her head. She seemed to be welcoming me in. I accepted. She was so beautiful that it struck me speechless; no words could have truly described my feeling. “Look.” I heard someone say. It was Myrtle, “It’s Ellis Island.” I turned my head slowly, it was hard to take my eyes off of Lady Liberty, but there stood my true gateway, Ellis Island. I walked off the boat slowly, squeezing Myrtle’s and Papa’s hands. We were worried about Babbett and the pins they would stick in our eyes. The boat trip was bad, but Ellis Island was worse. Five hours you had to wait; only to find out you had to go back. I was more bored than when I was on the boat. I carved my name on the bench that we waited on before we went into an enormous hall. We stood in that hall, amid the buzz of what had to be over 32 languages! I stood behind a big Russian man with swollen fingers and lots of scars. I was in front of Neils and Ester. Ester’s family was deceased, so she traveled alone. Occasionally, Myrtle and I would hear Ester express her fright and Neils would comfort her. Finally, it was my time to be observed by a strange looking American man. “Hello, who are you?” the man spoke in some strange language, “You look Danish, are you Danish?” I gave him a confused look. He called for someone, the man he called came panting, “Yes, Inspector Martin?” Inspector Martin replied, “She is Danish.” “Oh.” the translator mumbled. “How many legs does a horse have?” I gave him a queer look. What kind of a question was that? “Four?” I tried to sound smart. “She is not insane.” the translator told the inspector in the strange language. Inspector Martin gave the translator a piece of paper. He continued asking questions like, what is your name, are you married, and where did you live before you were here? I passed the test; they didn’t mark me with any chalk. Next, someone called a doctor looked at me; I passed him too. At the end, I sat on a bench with Myrtle, Neils, Ester, Mama, and Papa. Babbett was gone. “Mama, where is Babbett?” I asked her. “H-h-hospital!” she gasped, “H-her fe-fe-fe-fever.” I looked around; everyone’s eyes sparkled with tears. “The doctor said that she is so sick, she might have to be there for about five days.” Papa sobbed quietly. So we sat on that bench for one week, waiting for someone to come and tell us that Babbett was fine. Even Ester waited with us. After nine days, a nurse walked in with a baby girl in her arms. It was Babbett. We were so happy. It gave me a warm feeling that caroled, Everything is all right now. We rushed to get out of Ellis Island, and just when we were about to walk out the door to beautiful America, an inspector stopped us and pointed at Myrtle. “That is not your child.” He spoke in Danish. “You may go.” My mother walked away in tears. Myrtle cried, “Mama!” “You can go,” he told Myrtle; she ran to Mama. As we walked out the door, Mama started crying tears of joy, and Papa held her, “Everything will be okay now, no need to cry, Louise.” he assured her. Six months later, we had an apartment in New York. Neils married Ester and opened a bakery full of smells that made your tummy go flip flop. I helped Ester make cookies all day long. The streets weren’t paved with gold, but it was wonderful. It was better than I had imagined it. That is the story of when I immigrated to America from Denmark.” Great Grandma finished. “Cool!” Lucas shouted. “I never knew I was named after your Mom!” Louise hollered. Great Grandma pulled out her old music box and gave it to Louise. She gave Lucas a treasured jar of dirt. It wasn’t much, but they both glowed. “Cookies!” they heard Lilly holler. Ann soon said with eyes closed and a lovely smile, as if she was caught in a dream, “Mmmmm…my favorite.”