Katerina's Wish (24 page)

Momma counted it, laying it out on the table in neat rows.

“Fourteen dollars!” she said when she finished. She looked from the money to me and back to the money with an expression
of bewilderment. “How on earth did you get so much money?”

“I told you, we've been delivering goods for Mr. Torentino. From his store in Trinidad.”

She frowned. “Yes, that's what you told me, but delivery girls don't make this much money. What is really going on, Trina?”

I told her the details of the business, omitting any mention of Mr. Johnson's anger that had inspired it. I had been careful to avoid him since we had started the deliveries, but word of my business had spread around camp. I was pretty sure Mr. Johnson had heard, or at least suspected. I had never told my parents of his role in destroying my previous plans, or even that he harbored a grudge against me. I saw no point in bringing that up now. Especially since I expected my mother to be angry enough with us as it was. Nervously I tried to read her mood as I explained, but her expression remained closed. She kept staring at the pile of money.

“How long have you been doing this?” she asked at last.

“Four weeks,” I said.

“Four weeks,” she repeated thoughtfully. “You have saved fourteen dollars in only four weeks?”

“It's been going up every week, too,” Aneshka said proudly. “This week we made almost six dollars, and Trina's already taken two orders for next week.”

“I had no idea,” Momma said. “Who orders from you?”

“Mostly our neighbors,” I said quickly. “And sometimes people find me after church.”

“If we went across the tracks, we could make a lot more,” Aneshka said.

I shot her a warning glance. Momma had a strict rule that my sisters and I were never to cross the tracks that ran through
the middle of the coal town. The houses on the other side were exactly like our own, but we didn't mix with the Welsh and Scottish families who lived there. Even at school we avoided those children. Rumor had it, the Scots collaborated with the mine officials. They would betray union organizers or troublemakers to the bosses. And Papa said a Welshman was at fault in the accident that had crushed Old Jan's leg, as they so often were. Even if they could be trusted, we had a hard time understanding their English, and they ours, so it seemed best for everyone if we didn't mix.

“You mean you have made all this from only this side of town?” Momma asked.

“Mostly. It's enough for dresses, isn't it?” I said, trying to return the conversation to the safety of our original topic.

“Yes, it's certainly enough for that,” Momma said, but the tone in her voice was one I didn't recognize. She turned to Aneshka with a smile. “Run along and play,” she said. “We will work on dresses later. You too, Holena.”

It was all too clear that, though my sisters were being dismissed, I was not. Aneshka noticed too, and she gave me one more hard glare before taking Holena's hand and leaving the kitchen.

“Does Marek know of these plans?” Momma asked when we were alone.

“Momma, I didn't tell Aneshka to save for a farm. I haven't said anything about it—it's her idea.”

“But the orders, the deal with Mr. Torentino, that was all your doing.”

“Mark knows of all that. In fact, he gave me the idea,” I said. “But I wasn't really doing it for the farm. I've learned my lesson about those kinds of dreams.”

Momma wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were on Aneshka's box and the advertisements my sisters had pasted there. Momma couldn't read the English text, but she could certainly read the prices. When she spoke, it wasn't directed at me so much as thinking out loud.

“Fourteen dollars in just four weeks, and just on this side of town, when the mine isn't even at full production—” She paused and seemed to be adding in her head. “If we can save this much now, by the end of the year . . .”

I stared at her, my mouth open. “Do you mean—Momma, do you think by the end of the year we would have enough for something big?”

“Everyone here needs more than they can name, but we're all scrimping to get by. Come fall, when work picks up again, people will be buying more. Everyone in town is counting the days till the mine is in full production and giving out cash payments again to get what we are doing without for now. And the bachelors will be back, and they are looser with their money than families are. In another month or two your business will boom, I think.”

“Enough to buy a farm?”

Momma's eyes snapped up to my face, as if the mention of a farm had startled her awake. Her expression hardened.

“You have to tell Marek of this. You know he has no interest in being a farmer. You shouldn't be thinking of a farm, either. You should be setting a share of these earnings aside to set up a household when you marry. Whatever plans you are making, you should be making them with him.”

“But—” I felt a knot tightening in my gut again, the same knot that had been there ever since the accident at the mine. I swallowed hard.

“But what? What's the matter, Trina? You should be happy to share this with Marek. He has so many good, solid ideas you can start working on together. Go on and tell him now, why don't you.”

I nodded and stepped outside into the street. I couldn't tell her what I was thinking—that I had only promised myself to Mark because I thought a farm was impossible. I hated myself now for even thinking it. I loved Mark. But I had seen my mother's expression as she looked at those ads and calculated. I had seen hope. And if even Momma thought we might be able to get out of the coal camp, how could I turn my back on that? How could I bear spending money to build something here with Mark when it could have been enough for my family to get our farm?

At Mark's house, Old Jan was stumping around the kitchen, helping Martina wash and put away dishes. He smiled at me, offering a cup of coffee from the pot simmering on the back of

the stove.

“Is Mark here?” I asked.

“He's out walking. He's determined to have that foot strong by the time the mine's hiring again.” He set the cup of coffee on the table before me, but I stood chewing my lip, trying to decide if I should go after him.

Old Jan raised his eyebrows. “You look like you have heavy matters on your shoulders, child.”

I nodded. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Can I help?”

I sighed and sat down at the table. How could I explain it to him? “Have you ever wanted something so much that even after you know you can't have it, you still can't stop thinking about it?”

He smiled and nodded. “Once hope has a hold on you, it doesn't want to let go. I think that's for the best, don't you? Where would any of us be if hope abandoned us?”

“Hope did abandon me,” I said, remembering the terrible weeks after the accident when I had lost so much.

“Did it?” he asked. “Or did you abandon it?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

He smiled. “Do you know the story of the boy betrothed to the frog?”

“I'm a little too old for such stories,” I pointed out. My problems were real-world matters now; I didn't need more fairy tales in my head. “I'm almost a woman.”

“So you are,” Jan said. “But no one's ever too old for the lessons. We are always still young enough to learn.”

Martina poured herself a cup of coffee, and one for Jan, and sat down beside us. “And I'm not too old to want to listen, if it means sitting down for a few minutes,” she said. So Old Jan began his story.

“There once was a man with one small farm and three sons, and he did not know which of them should get his farm. So he sent his sons into the world to find a bride.

“‘Whoever returns with the finest betrothal ring, he shall have the farm,' the father decreed.

“So the three sons set out, each in a different direction. The two older brothers traveled the road, and it was left to the youngest to clamber through the forest. The boy traveled a full day without meeting another person, and he was about to give up entirely when an ugly toad jumped onto a log in front of him and spoke.

“‘What are you doing so deep in the forest, boy?' the toad asked.

“‘I am seeking a bride who will make me the betrothal gift of a ring,' the boy answered.

“‘I have a daughter who will gladly marry you, and she has a fine betrothal ring for you,' the toad said.

“The boy was too kind to reject the ugly creature, so he followed her to her home, a rough cave, and the toad called in to her daughter to come out. The creature that emerged from the cave was the ugliest thing the boy had ever seen. Splay legged, bulgy eyed, and covered in crusty warts.”

I couldn't resist a little shiver, and Old Jan smiled.

“But the ugly creature had with her a small chest and told the boy, ‘If you will accept a betrothal gift from me, you may choose it yourself from these.'

“She opened the chest to reveal the most costly and beautiful rings the boy had ever seen! Not wishing to be greedy, the boy took the least valuable, but the toad mother protested and insisted he take the finest ring in the box—a perfect diamond the size of a robin's egg.

“Well, of course the boy had high hopes of getting the farm, as you once did, Trina. When the boy returned home with his gift, his brothers were already there, so his father called them all to show the rings they had received. The first brother had a small copper ring, worth only a few pennies. The second had a ring of poor silver, worth only a bit more. But when the father saw the fine ring the youngest son brought, he was sure the boy had stolen it. So he beat the boy and told him he must return it to its owner. Then he set a new challenge to his sons: They must each find a girl who would give them a fine embroidered handkerchief. The brother who brought back the finest would inherit the farm.

“Once again, the youngest son set out through the woods,
this time in a different direction, but once again, he encountered the toad. Though he tried to get around it, he was soon on his way to meet her daughter, who produced the finest silk handkerchief he had ever seen.

“Once again, the boy returned home hopeful, and once again, though he had the finest gift, he received a punishment instead of the farm.”

“So the moral is, no matter how you try, you cannot succeed?” I asked bitterly.

“So it might seem,” Old Jan said. “But let me finish, because the father sent the three boys out a third time. ‘Produce the girls who have given you these gifts and whoever has the loveliest bride shall inherit the farm,' he said.

“Now the youngest son was truly wretched. For while his bride had fine gifts for him, he could not bear to bring the ugly toad before his father. So he chose once again to go in a different direction, hoping against hope to avoid the toads. But much to his dismay, the mother toad found him and begged him to come to her house. So the boy went, and told them what his father had decreed. Still the boy hoped to save himself, and to spare their feelings. So he said, ‘I am too tired to return tonight. Let me sleep the night here, and tomorrow we will venture to my father's house,' for he planned to sneak away in the night.

“He lay down to sleep on the stone floor of the cave, and surprisingly enough, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was full light when he woke the next day, and he looked around amazed, for he was no longer in a cave, but in a stately palace. He left his room and wandered to the great hall, where a graceful queen awaited him.

“‘You have broken the enchantment!' she told him. ‘I am the queen of this land, laid under a curse by a jealous sorcerer.
We were doomed to be toads until a good man would promise to marry my daughter and stay the night to seal the pact. And now, behold your bride.'

“The most beautiful princess ever seen—who, of course, had been the ugliest toad—stepped forward from the shadows and took the boy's hand, and they were married right then and there. And though the boy did return to his father with the most beautiful bride, he did not need his father's farm. For he was now prince of a fine kingdom, where he ruled happily for many a long year.”

“It is a fine story,” I said. “And what is the lesson?”

“Well, the lesson is whatever you take from it. But it seems to me that the boy was much like you. He thought his efforts had failed again and again, but he didn't give up. And because things once started had a course of their own, good came of it all in the end, even when the end wasn't the one he'd expected. He set out in a different direction each day, but the important thing is that he kept setting out.”

“The problem is, I set out in a different direction, and now I don't know which direction is the right one,” I said.

“No one can tell you which is right for you, child,” Old Jan said, patting me on the back kindly. “But maybe you'll have the luck of the boy in the story and discover that all directions lead to success. Sometimes things have a way of working themselves out.”

I nodded and sighed. “I hope you are right.”

He looked past me out the open kitchen door and smiled. “Here is my Marek. I'll leave the two of you to talk, shall I?” He picked up a bucket and set off toward the creek.

I greeted Mark on the porch so we could talk and wouldn't be in Martina's way in the cramped kitchen. He smiled when
he saw me, and the smile warmed me deep inside. It felt good to be near him, and to know I could make him happy just by being here.

“I'm glad to see you, Trina. I've got good news!” “Tell me,” I said, happy enough not to have to say what I had come for.

“On my walk today I passed by the mine office and the superintendent was there. He noticed how much better I was walking, and he said he thought they could hire me back on, come fall.”

“That is good news,” I said.

He nodded, still grinning. “And they'll be hiring again soon. Once I'm back to work, Martina and Karel can move back to their own place. And once we've paid off some of our debt, maybe Papa and I can move to a better house, plant a garden, buy some new chickens. What do you think?”