The Next Ship Home: A Novel of Ellis Island



President Roosevelt dissatisfied with conditions at Ellis Island, change ahead James Mackle reports. Manhattan Chronicle.

April 10, 1902—The president is said to be dissatisfied with operations at Ellis Island as news of inappropriate conduct has reached Washington. Speculation suggests Commissioner Thomas Fitchie will soon be replaced by a new head of operations. In fact, there may be a complete overhaul at the immigration station over the coming months.

President Roosevelt emphasizes no position is safe, including those held by senior staff, if the office holder does not act with integrity toward the immigrants.

Once again, Commissioner Thomas Fitchie was not available for comment.





13


All night and the following morning at work, Alma had racked her brain, trying to think of some way to connect Francesca with an employer, but as soon as she’d settled on a friend of the family’s whom she might ask, Alma changed her mind. They’d have the same reaction as her mother. No one wanted another Italian in their neighborhood, and no one would take a risk for a stranger. Alma had managed to avoid the detainees’ quarters all day but knew she’d have to make her way there eventually and tell Francesca that it was over.

Sighing, she shifted the stack of paperwork to her other arm and continued to the clerk’s office. Perhaps she’d stop on her way to say hello to Jeremy. Though she knew he spent time at his desk working through forms and transcripts, she often passed him in the registry office where he helped inspectors with translations. She suspected he also spent a fair amount of time preparing for the hearings of more indeterminate cases, drafting records or translating where necessary. The hearings determined whether or not the immigrant should stay in the country or go; if they had enough income or earning potential, or if they would become a burden to the state. The hearings also determined if the immigrant was of upstanding moral character. Though not glamorous, at least Jeremy’s job wasn’t passing out snacks to families and shepherding the sick, the detained, or the frantic through the halls. And he didn’t report to a strict supervisor who never seemed satisfied. Alma envied him.

She knocked before entering his office.

“Morning,” he said, smoothing the front of his suit jacket. “What have you got for me there?”

“Oh, these are for the clerk,” she said. “More forms to file. Something dreadful, I think.”

His brow arched. “That sounds jolly.”

She smiled. “I don’t usually read what they give me, especially if I’m in a rush.”

“Well, now, where are you rushing off to?”

“The usual. Fetching things for the children, racing after Mrs. Keller, helping the inspectors. Drying lots of tears.”

“Is that all?” He winked.

She laughed. “I suppose I should be going, shouldn’t I. I thought I’d say hello since your office is next door to the clerk.”

“Wait.” He moved around the desk. “I’m glad you came by. I have a few things that need translating, and I don’t speak Italian. Care to help?”

She perked up. “Yes!”

He grinned. “I thought you might.” He motioned her over to his desk. “These few sentences here, and also this piece of underlined text.”

She scanned the shorter piece and then the next, translating what she could while he made notes. When she finished, she smiled. “All done. If there are others—”

“Actually, there are…er, there will be. Would you mind helping me out from time to time? I know you’re busy, so don’t put yourself out now.” He reddened. “That is… I thought you would be interested in translation work, so if—”

“Yes! I am, yes.” She laughed at her own enthusiasm. “I’d be happy to help!”

He chuckled. “All right. I’ll send for you.”

A broad smile split her face. “Terrific.” She stood awkwardly at the edge of his desk, not quite ready to go, though she knew she should.

He raised a brow at her. “So.” He cleared his throat. “Have you been practicing your Russian?”

She nodded. “I’m surrounded by it every day, so I’m forced to, though I wish I could spend more time working quietly in an office.” It wasn’t just the relative quiet of his office, but his work: the interpreting, the constant learning, the respect. Others admired his abilities—and paid him to use them. She couldn’t imagine being so lucky. The very possibility of it made her giddy.

“You have the mind of an academic,” he said, winking. “You prefer to stay locked up with books than to be among the living.”

“When you put it that way, I sound positively horrid.”

He chuckled and a dimple appeared in his left cheek. “It takes all kinds for the world to turn, don’t you know. I admire your keen mind.”

She blushed. “I’ve always found language fascinating. Since I was a child, I’ve seen it as a sort of code that unlocks secrets.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “It is like a code, of sorts. When you know a person’s language, you come to find out who they are. Their language goes hand in hand with their customs and their nationality, and the way they think about things, too.”

She leaned toward him, her passion for the topic bubbling to the surface. “I feel like a different person when I speak another language. Like I have a secret identity. Have you ever felt that way?”

“Now that you mention it…yes, I have.”

“I wonder if people look at me differently, too.” She thought of the way Robert glared at her when he heard her speak Italian.

“I’m certain they do,” he said.

At his change in tone, Alma met his eyes and blushed. The moment she’d heard his Irish lilt, she’d assumed Jeremy would be like everything she’d heard and read about the Irish. That they were crude and limited in intelligence, and that they liked a good fistfight more than just about anything. They dealt in dirty politics, and most of all, they were lousy drunks. This man was not only kind and well spoken, but highly educated and a gentleman. She was embarrassed by her foolish assumptions and glad he didn’t know how she’d initially viewed him. Each day at Ellis Island, she realized how little she knew about anything.

As the silence grew between them, she shifted to the other foot. “I suppose I should get back to work.”

“Aye. Me too. But if you’d like to stop by later in the week, I’ll show you a few things about what an interpreter really does.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

As she dropped off the papers in the clerk’s office, she imagined herself in his shoes. Her heart began to race. What if she became an interpreter? She’d need schooling first and probably some sort of testing. Perhaps a bit of help from Jeremy to show her the ropes. Maybe one day, he might even put in a good word for her.