Leona crawled across the plush red
seats and looked out the window just as the train was pulling into the station.
She could hear the shrill whistling of the steam and the screeching of steel-
on- steel; could feel the jerking and tugging as the cars settled into place.
It was night outside- December-
only a few days before Christmas. There was snow on the ground, in the air,
falling silently, softly, as if the flakes were afraid of being heard. It was
the snow you knew was there because
it was so quiet. The whole world stands still when it snows like this.
Outside the window the world was
dark and lonely, populated only by shadows. The buildings of Main Street were a
mass of black. Dark, thin shapes protruded from the ground— streetlamps left
unlit. The only light was the soft yellow glow coming from within the train
station.
“Come along, dear.” A smooth hand,
long fingers bare except for a wedding ring, reached out for Leona. The voice
was soft, like the snow, afraid of being heard. Mama was tired from having to
hold on to little baby Herman, who was one-year-old and cranky from the long
journey.
Leona hesitated. The world outside
was cold and gloomy. Empty. Once they left the station that was all there would
be; an endless abyss of darkness in the eyes of the six-year-old girl.
But Papa was there, in the station
waiting for them. She had not seen him in so long and had grown so much since he had left New York. She hoped he recognized her.
She took her mama’s hand and clutched
her small suitcase with the other. Mama
carried Herman and her travel bag; the porter would get the rest.
They stepped briefly into the
bitter cold as they walked across the platform towards the warmth of the
station. The arctic air bit at Leona’s cheeks. She wanted to push her wool
scarf further up her face but she didn't want to let go of Mama or her
suitcase.
They were soon inside, though; all of them tangled up in the
tender embrace of Papa, who had lost weight and now had a thick brown beard. He
laughed at everything and Leona felt a much better. Mama beamed with joy for
the first time since Papa had left. Even sleepy Herman perked up a little when
Papa took him into his arms. In that moment, with them all united as a family
again, everything felt just right. However, as they headed towards the door to
leave, Leona shrunk closer to Papa, who was carrying a lantern to guide them to
their new home. That moment of happiness was brought to an abrupt end as the
door closed behind them and they were walking back into the night.
Back into the cold and, suddenly,
the wind; a wind that never seemed to stop. It had come out of no where and it blew and blew the whole time they
were walking to their new home.
“It’s because there’s nothing out
here to stop it,” said Mama, adjusting the blanket covering Herman so that the
wind would not get to him.
Leona knew that tone in Mama’s
voice. It was the same voice she used back when they were still all together
back in the cities, in New York, when Papa wanted to move out west. Mama had
insisted that there was nothing out there: no people, no opportunities,
nothing. But Papa had been in contact with a friend who had told him about an
opportunity to buy a dry goods
store in a small town in the Dakotas. The town was on the rail line, there was
a space above the store for them to live, and the population was (slowly)
growing. Papa won the debate, pointing
out that this could be the only opportunity they could have to get out of the
dirty, smelly, crime-ridden city. Out west the land was unspoiled, the air
clean, and the people good. Papa had
won, and obedient, genteel Mama
had let him head out west first to get things prepared for their arrival.
Leona had been excited when Papa
talked about moving out west. There would be new places to explore, new animals
to watch, and new friends to make.
But she had been frightened, too.
“The Indians will get you and scalp
the golden curls right off your head,” said her cousin, Edmund, tugging on her
pigtails.
“You’ll get lost in a blizzard,”
said Grandmama Bertha, “or sucked up in a tornado. The wind will swoop down
right outta the sky and whisk you away.”
“Just don’t get trampled by a herd
of buffalo,” said Uncle Harvey.
So many scary, bad things that
could happen! Did Papa really think it would be safer out
there? But Leona had even less choice in the matter than Mama.
Now, looking around the town, Leona
wondered about Papa’s choice. Mama was right: there was nothing beyond the
town. The road they were on seemed to come from nothing and end in nothing. The
buildings on Main Street were so small and short compared to the tall buildings
of the city! They were all made of wood, too. There was no brick or concrete in
sight. The town was absolutely silent. Back home there were always dogs
barking, babies crying, and traffic on the streets with people shouting and
wagons clattering, even in the middle of the night. And it was never so dark!
It was as if the train station and Papa’s lone lantern were the only lights
around from there to the cities. The swinging glow from the lantern barely
pierced the darkness, avoiding any dark nook or cranny, not even straying to
the porches of the post office, tailor, or bank. It only lit the way
immediately in front of them, seeming to cling to Papa just as Leona did.
Finally, they reached their new
home. It was a two-story, wood frame structure, with the store on the first
floor and their home on the second. Papa had kept the stove going so that by
the time they got there it was toasty warm. The top floor was not much larger
than their apartment back in the cities, with a kitchen, sitting area, and two
bedrooms. It was strange not to hear neighbors through thin walls. The rooms
and furniture were simple, but Mama would fix that up soon enough. She had always
been able to make any space look pretty. Leona stood at the front window,
looking out into the snowy night and down onto the empty street. She thought
she saw an Indian creeping around, but Mama told her not to be silly and Papa
said there were no Indians nearby. That made Leona feel a little better, but
not much, especially when Papa added that it could just be a coyote.
Leona could not sleep that night as she lay in bed in her new home. The silence of the new town was too loud for her ears,
and the questions that plagued her mind were no help: What was there going to
be in the morning, when the sun finally came up and wiped away the
darkness? What about Indians and buffalo
and tornadoes? Or coyotes? And could
they really be happy being surrounded by nothing after being surrounded by
everything?
Only the future held the answers,
and the future, with all of its answers, seemed as far away as the empty
horizon.
