Page 27 of Road Trip
The woman looked at Kathleen, who flashed an apologetic smile.
“No, Dolly,” she said softly. “There’s no bread right now. Maybe later, after we get on the boat.”
Hundreds of people were queued up around them. It could be hours before it was their turn to board. The chatter from the waiting passengers was ear-rattling. Young children darted in and out of the line and babies wailed in their mothers’ arms.
Kathleen tore off a portion of her sandwich. “Here now,” she said, stooping down to hand it to the child. “I’ve enough to share.”
The woman’s face pinked. “You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” Kathleen said, tearing off another bit and offering it to the woman. “It could be a long time yet.”
The woman shrugged and took her portion. “I’m grateful to you, Miss…?”
“Kathleen Connor.”
“Well, I’m Maggy Perkins, and this is my Dorothy, but we call her Dolly.”
The girl was still happily chewing on the bit of bread, but smiled shyly, then buried her face in the folds of her mother’s skirt.
“Have you come from far away?” Kathleen asked.
“Not so far,” Maggy said. “My uncle brought us. And now Dolly and me, we’re going to America. My husband’s there already. What about yourself?”
“The same,” Kathleen said, not wanting to share that her only living relative was her nine-year-old brother.
“You have family in America, do you?” Maggy inquired.
“Not that I know of.” Kathleen wrapped the napkin around the remains of her sandwich and stowed it back in her valise.
The young mother looked surprised. “What’ll you do when you get there? Where will you stay?”
“I’ve the name of a priest who knows I’m coming, and he’s to help me find a place to live and a job.”
“That’s awfully bold of ya,” Maggy said admiringly. “I don’t know that I’d be brave enough to make this trip without knowing what’s waiting for me over there.”
“There’s nothing for me here, now,” she said with a shrug.
Suddenly, the line was moving, snaking forward.
“All right now,” the official hollered. “Tickets and papers ready, and be quick about it.” He thumped the head of a wizened old man near the head of the line. “Move along now, granddad, we leave in an hour.”
Kathleen handed over her papers, and Maggy Perkins did the same. They were herded across the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship, which was already belching clouds of black from the two huge smokestacks.
When they were assembled on the deck, another official took over, sorting the crowd into groups.
“You single gents,” a short fat man with a red face called, “down the stairs, and to the bow. Families with kids, your berths are midship. Down the stairs now, and someone will sort you out. Single ladies, wait up here.”
Maggy Perkins turned a stricken face to Kathleen. “Do you think they’d let me stay with you? All those kids, crying and carrying on… Dolly. She’s sensitive, gets upset.”
“Stay by me,” Kathleen said. “She’s such a quiet little one, maybe they’ll make an exception for you.”
When the only ones left on the deck were the single women, the red-faced man began shooing them down the stairway. “Not you,” he said, grabbing Maggy roughly by the shoulder. “You and the kid belong with the families.”
“Please,” Kathleen said, placing herself between the official and the young mother. “This lady is traveling alone, without any otherfamily. Her little girl is no bother at all. Can’t they stay in the women’s group?”
The man stared up at her, his stiff gray mustache quivering. “Who’re you?”
“Her friend,” Kathleen said quickly. “Please? I’ll be responsible for helping look after her.”
