Threads and Flames by Esther Friesner

the woman said. “I think that question is one that’s aimed mostly at the men. Girls like you only have to be able to assure the clerk that you know someone already living here who’ll look out for you. There are too many vultures waiting to pounce on unaccompanied young women. I even heard that not too long ago, those creatures had agents working right here, in this very building, finding single girls to kidnap and sell as—never mind. It’s sordid, and nothing a decent girl should hear about. All you need to know is that everything is much better now. The authorities here will take proper care of you, and whatever they decide will be in your best interest.”
    â€œI hope so,” Raisa said, though she didn’t put a lot of faith in that.
    She kept Brina happy by telling her every fairy tale she could remember; she was starting all over again, hoping the child wouldn’t notice, when her name was called from one of the desks. They mustn’t see that I’m afraid, she thought as she picked up her bags once more. They might think I’m hiding something. That won’t do. “Come with me, Brina,” she said, straightening her shoulders and walking across the room.
    The man seated at the desk stuck out his hand for her documents. While he reviewed them, the other Ellis Island employee began speaking to her in German. She shook her head and let him know she spoke Yiddish. He frowned, but the man who held her documents smiled.
    â€œThis will make my job much simpler, miss,” he said. “We can speak directly to one another. I see that you’re in good health, as is your”—he glanced at Brina, who had a hard grip on Raisa’s skirt—“little sister?”
    â€œCousin, sir,” Raisa said.
    â€œAh! I see. What a pretty child. She looks hungry.”
    â€œShe—we’re all right.”
    â€œBut you could be better.” The clerk spoke a few unintelligible words to his assistant, who left the desk at a speedy pace. “Now, just a few questions and we can get you on your way.”
    The clerk had spoken the truth. He asked his questions, listened to Raisa’s answers with a sympathetic ear, and ended the interview by wishing her a happy reunion with her older sister. “You’ll want to go to the currency exchange counter next, over that way.” He pointed with his pen. “You’ll need nothing but dollars from here on. Once you’re done there, be sure to take the stairs to the left since you’re headed for New York City. They’ll take you to the correct ferry. The ones to the right are for the people bound for railway stations, and the center stairs, you don’t want them. They’re for detainees.”
    Raisa thanked the clerk profusely. She grabbed her luggage, told Brina to take hold of her skirt again, and was about to rush on when the assistant came back with a brown paper bag in his hand. “A little something to welcome you,” the clerk said, then returned his attention to the papers on the desk.
    It was impossible for Raisa to carry the paper sack in addition to the traveling bags, but Brina was eager to help. She held the brown bag proudly with both hands and still managed to stay close to Raisa. The small remainder of their time on Ellis Island went as the friendly clerk had said: Raisa got the coins out of her hem and exchanged them for American money. While the transaction was being processed she overheard another Jewish immigrant muttering about being short-changed.
    Even if it’s true and the exchange clerk is cheating us, what can we do about it? she thought, gathering up the new, foreign currency. There wasn’t a lot, but she still took a little extra time to get out needle and thread in order to sew all but a little of her money back into the bottom of her skirt. While she stitched, Brina peeked into the brown paper bag. Her ecstatic cry took Raisa by surprise,