Tato muttered under his breath so Adrianne couldn't hear, damn you Franz Josef you've taken four of my sons, this one I named after you, Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary. Why can't you be happy with the considerable amount of real estate over which you reign? Why must you conspire with Russia and Germany to take over the world? Enough! I will not let you take the four beloved sons I have left.
Tato tamped the last bit of soil over the grave and laid the shovel aside. Tears welled up in his eyes as he busied himself erecting a small wooden board on which he had carefully written in his own hand Franz Stanislaus 1891-1905, beloved son of Tato and Adrianne.
He straightened up to his full six feet height, and glanced around at the other four graves that testified to the loss of one child per year.
The total now stood at five, one daughter, Heidi, only eight years old, with her golden curls and the bluest eyes he had ever seen, lost to rampant yellow fever, and seventeen year old Nick, his firstborn son, he recalled, had always had a ready smile on his face.
Jan, his sixteen year old secondborn son had the greatest good sense of humor Tato could imagine. Then Stan, with his dark good looks, went at the age of fourteen, breaking his mother's already shattered heart, and now Franz, lost to the brutal treatment received in the military.
Tato raised his eyes toward heaven and pleaded, "Father, you've given us almost more than we can bear. Please, Lord, let Franz be the last to die for no good cause."
Turning at last toward Adrianne, Tato removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears that streamed down his face. He blew his nose, then looked at his petite auburn-haired wife who stood on the other side of the grave, clutching a small potted plant against her belly, very swollen with child, and quietly watching through tear-filled eyes.
Adrianne had been inconsolable ever since the news had come late yesterday. Now she said, "Poor Franz. He was only fourteen years old and his life is already snuffed out. For what?" She began to sob again, rubbing her belly with her free hand.
So distraught that he was not able to offer any solace to Adrianne, Tato glanced around at the vineyard that stood on the hillside just below, trying to collect his thoughts and make sense of it all. When he felt he could trust his voice he turned to Adrianne, and said, "We must go to America."
She thrust the plant toward him and said, "No, Tato, I can't leave my children here all alone with no one to care for their graves."
Still holding the plant, Tato took her hand, and said, "Adrianne, there is nothing more we can do for them. We must tend to the living. We must take the others to a safe place where they can grow up and have a good life."
With his finger, Tato brushed a tear from the eye of this woman he had loved for many years, then swiped his shirtsleeve across his own face, and sniffed. "Franz Josef won't stop. He is determined to start a war. All he needs is another excuse for it. He used to be a wonderful and beloved emperor, but ever since his son, Rudolph, committed suicide he has been a changed man. Then since his beloved Empress Cissi was assassinated he's thought of nothing but war. It's all in the news. You must realize that our sons are in danger. We are in danger. We must go to America."
"But the wine! Who will tend the grapes? Who will make the wine?"
"Wine be damned! I won't give another of our sons to the emperor's silly war plans. He's already conscripted thousands more than are legally supported. Can't you see war is imminent? It's only a matter of time. Besides, if they knew we are not Catholics—" his voice trailed off as emotion overtook him once again.
Tato squatted on the ground and planted the small flower that Adrianne had handed to him and whispered, "Rest in peace. I'm sorry that we must leave you and your brothers and sister here alone. I hope you understand. We'll meet again in heaven."
Taking Adrianne's hand Tato helped her into the seat on the wagon, then put one foot on the wheel and climbed in after her taking the reins in his hands. The oxen balked, so he handed the reins to his still sobbing wife, and he walked in front, coaxing the oxen to the stable and their home in Roznow, a small village a short distance away.
Every now and then Tato would pause to wipe the tears that still streamed down his face. It was only yesterday that young Joseph had come home from school crying because some kids had spat on him and called him names. Anti-Semitism has already reared its ugly head in the village, and non-Catholics aren't faring much better. We must leave Austria now. Tomorrow may be too late.
The Stanislaus family was devout Protestants, but Protestantism was becoming less and less acceptable.
On the quiet country lane Tato could hear Adrianne's sobs. Yes, we must go to America. Stefano, with hair the color of his mother's, and Patrick, with his dark good looks, and good natured Mikhail, and Joseph will be safe there. I must make Adrianne understand. It's only a short while until Mikhail will be conscripted into Franz Josef's ex-lex army. Or worse.
In the barn, which was attached to their home, Tato tended to the oxen, while Adrianne swept the portion of the cobblestone street that was in front of their house. It was laden with fresh manure from the many horses, mules, and oxen that had traversed the street all day going to and from the fields of their respective owners.
When Tato had fed and watered the animals he went to the street where Adrianne was just finishing up. He shoveled the piles of manure onto a handcart and emptied it into the compost pile beside their house, then he took the broom and shovel into the barn.
Adrianne followed him, listening attentively as he said, "We must book passage on the first available ship. Many of our friends have already gone. And they say America is a wonderful place." Tato took both her hands in his and gazed into her eyes, then finished, "We must not waste any time."
"But our friends, and our beautiful Austria. I do not want to leave. I do not want to go to a strange country where there are strange people and strange customs." Adrianne's blue eyes looked straight into his blue-green ones, almost pleading.
"We must. Our lives depend on it. Franz Josef has already made certain alliances with Germany, France, Russia, and other countries." They walked into the kitchen together. "Don't you see? There is no life for us here."
Tato used a small dipper to pour water from a bucket, that sat on the washstand, into a small basin and began to slather it on his face and arms, then he took the small bar of homemade soap from its dish, and lathered it on a washcloth to finish the job.
"But we don't even speak the language! How will we survive?"
Adrianne handed him a clean towel. She took the pan of dirty water to the window and tossed it out into the patch of spinach growing just outside.
With a worried look on her face, Adrianne refilled the pan with fresh water to do her own washing.
Wiping his face and arms, Tato said, "I know it won't be easy at first, but we'll manage. Our friends in America say it's a wonderful place of golden opportunity. There is nothing for us here but death. We must go as soon as possible." He brushed a wheat colored lock of hair from his forehead, but it fell back almost covering his left eyebrow that was just a little darker than the hair on his head. The sun was just setting, and they had barely finished washing up when Mikhail, Gisela, Patrick, Stefano, and Joseph arrived home from school.
"Mama, Papa, they spat on us again today." Young Joseph was beside himself, his face flushed with anger.
Adrianne pulled her second-oldest living son close to her, trying to soothe the hurt away. When he was quieted down she sent him and his siblings to the other room to do their homework.
"You see what it's like. No child should be treated that way," Tato said in his quiet voice. "I hear that a ship leaves Hamburg about once a month for America. We must book passage right away." Tato pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table, brushing his thick wavy hair once more from his forehead.
"Even if we could get passage where would the money come from? We have no money." Adrianne placed a hand on her back at the waist, as if she were in pain from the weight of the unborn child she carried.
"We will sell the vineyard and the winery. That should bring enough money for our passage."
"But who will buy it so quick?" Adrianne turned back to the counter and began to work fiercely, cleaning and cutting vegetables for their supper.
"I'll find a buyer. Besides, I've managed to save a little money for an emergency like this. It's not much, but we'll make it. We have to." He tapped his fingers lightly, nervously, on the tabletop as he spoke, showing his worry.
She stopped cutting vegetables, and turned toward him holding the knife in the air as she spoke. "But how will we get to Hamburg? We'll have to cross Germany to get to the port. That's a long way. How can we make that long arduous trip? We have no means of transportation."
"I'll find a way. I must make the arrangements tomorrow."
"What if I go into labor and the baby comes?" Adrianne lowered the knife to the cutting board and began to chop the vegetables with a vengeance.
Adrianne paused long enough to look at Tato and see that he still had a worried frown on his face, as he said, "We'll just have to do the best we can. Let's not ask for problems."
"What will we do when we finally get to America? We'll have no money, no place to live. How can we survive?"
Tato pushed his chair back and stood up, saying, "Woman, have you no faith at all? We'll make it. We'll be all right. You'll see. Trust me." His voice sounded a little sharper than usual.
Tato left the kitchen and went into the other room where the children were doing their homework for school. "Mama's got supper almost ready. Have you finished your work?"
They all stood up when their father entered the room, and Stefano said, "Here Papa, take my chair. I'll sit on the floor."
When they both were seated, Stefano on the floor next to his father's feet, Tato asked, "How would you like to go to America?"
"That's a long way off, Papa. Are you serious?" the eldest son, Mikhail, asked.
The others sat quietly, waiting for Tato to explain.
"I think we can have a wonderful life in America. Much better than we have here." Tato noticed that Mikhail looked a little worried, although he sat quietly listening. His face seemed a bit flushed and he looked thoughtful, but said nothing.
Tato tousled his son's hair in a fatherly gesture, and asked, "What are you thinking, Son?"
Mikhail's face turned redder and he looked away from his father. After a moment, he stuttered, "We'll have to leave all our friends behind."
"Yes, Son, I'm afraid so. But think of the better life we'll have in America. You'll make new friends. We will all make new friends. It will be fun meeting new people and getting to know them." Tato smiled, then looked at Gisela, and asked, "What are you thinking about?"
Gisela had been listening attentively and with a frown on her chubby little cheeks she asked, "Papa, do children in America spit on other people? If they do, I don't want to go there."
Tato took the child on his knee and hugged her, then said, "I don’t believe anyone in America will spit on such a beautiful child as you. So stop your worrying." He brushed a golden curl from her face as he spoke. She reached her thin arms up and hugged her father, then scooted down off his lap.
Joseph asked, "Father will we go to school in America?"
Tato assured him that they would by saying, "America has wonderful schools for boys and girls. You will go to school there just like you do here in Austria."
Stefano asked, "How will we cross the ocean?"
Tato tousled the boy's hair and answered, "We will go on a ship. It will be lots of fun to see the big wide ocean. Maybe we'll see some whales and dolphins, too. Won't that be fun to watch them frolic in the water?"
"Father, how will it be better if we leave all our friends behind?" Mikhail blushed again and looked away.
Before Tato could answer Adrianne came into the room and announced, "Goulash is on the table. Hurry, and wash up; it's getting cold."
Mikhail had been sitting quietly, but now he said, "Goulash again? Can't we ever have anything but goulash?"
"Goulash is good for you," Adrianne put her hand, lovingly, on the side of Mikhail's face as she spoke. "Now get a move on. Don't keep us waiting." She went back to the kitchen and dished up the soup, being careful to give each bowl three tiny slivers of veal with lots of peas and brusselsprouts over heaps of rice in attractive bowls. She gave each one a thick slice of crusty bread, fresh from the oven and slathered with home churned butter and sprinkled with a special mix of fresh herbs from her garden. Then she poured a glass of milk, fresh from the cow, for each of them.
They each took their place at the table and bowed their heads while Tato asked the Lord to bless their food and thanked Him for their bounteous meal.
When the prayer was finished, Mikhail asked, "Must we go to America? I don't want to leave Austria. All my friends are here. I don't know anybody in America."
"You'll make friends quickly enough." Tato put some food into his mouth, then slurped some of his milk. "You'll be happy in America. We can buy some land, build a home, and be safe. We'll all have a better life in America. I must go to Kolomyja tomorrow and arrange our passage."
The children knew the subject was closed. They finished their meal in silence and went to bed. They must get up early in the morning and go to school at daybreak.
***
The sun had barely risen when Tato started the long trek northwest to Kolomyja. It would take several days to walk there and back and get his work done. In a backpack, he carried a bedroll and some food that Adrianne packed for him. He would camp when darkness came, sleeping under the stars. He shivered thinking how cold the nights would be in the mountains, but he was determined that his family should be safe. And he would do anything he had to do in order to accomplish that. It was his responsibility to keep his family safe and he would be damned if he would shirk his duty to them.
The first few miles were rough and hilly and he grew tired quickly, even though he was a strong and healthy man, accustomed to walking behind a plow. The road was narrow, hardly wide enough for one wagon, but he had seen no wagons so far. He stopped to rest a while at noon and eat a little of the food from his pack, and drink from his canteen. It wasn't much, and he would have to make it last. Tired, he lay down in a grassy area and dozed off to sleep, basking in the warm sunshine.
Tato was startled awake by the noise of a wagon pulled by two horses and carrying one man. Some barrels stood sentry in the wagon behind its driver. Tato sat up just as the wagon came to a stop and it's driver asked, "Need a ride, friend? I'm not going far, but you're welcome to ride with me to Pistyn."
Hardly believing his luck, Tato quickly stowed his gear in the wagon and climbed aboard, saying, "Thanks. That's nearly half of my journey. I can't thank you enough for this." He offered his hand to the man who took it in a firm grasp.
"You're more than welcome. Gets kind of lonely riding alone. Do you have business in Pistyn?"
"No, I'm going on to Kolomyja." Tato took note of the man's attire which was a little on the dirty side and guessed that he had been working in a field. There was an odor coming from the barrels that Tato recognized as fertilizer--human manure.
"Well then you are lucky I came along. That's quite a ways to walk and mostly uphill to boot. Your business must be awfully important."
"Yes. Very important." Tato chose not mention the reason for his journey and was glad that his benefactor didn't pry.
The two men rode on making small talk about the weather and their crops of sugar beets, potatoes, and grapes, until at last the man said, "I must turn off just over the next hill. I wish I could take you on to Kolomyja, but—"
Reaching for his backpack, Tato replied, "You've done enough. I don't know how I can ever repay your kindness."
"I enjoyed your company. That's repayment enough." He pulled on the reins to stop the horses, then said, "Take care now. And good luck whatever your business is in Kolomyja."
Tato watched as the wagon went on its way, then he started walking. After an hour he was weary again. The sun was going down and he looked around for a place to spread his bed for the night. Finding a spot that he thought would be sheltered from the cold wind he cleared a place to build a small fire. He sat on his bedroll and ate some of the food from his pack, then laid down to rest, and was soon asleep.
***
Adrianne went to the vineyard as soon as her housework was done. Just before quitting time she walked on up the hill and sat beside the graves of her daughter and four sons and wept. "This may be the last time I'll be able to visit you for your father is determined that we shall go to America. I hope you know that my heart stays here with you, my precious children."
She got up and walked down the hill to where the wagon and the oxen were waiting. She put her tools in the wagon, then took her place in the seat.
For once the oxen didn't balk, and she went home and took out the axe and began to split wood to use for cooking supper. When it was in the woodbin, she swept the manure from the street and added it to the compost pile.
Adrianne milked the cow and fed the animals, then went to the creek to fetch water for them. Then she went in the kitchen, taking another bucket of water from the creek with her, and built a fire in the stove. When it was going good she went into the yard and caught a chicken to slaughter for supper. She hated that job; it seemed so cruel. She wished Tato were here to do it for her, then immediately took back her wish, feeling ashamed of wanting to put that gruesome job off on him.
Adrianne soon had a pot of water boiling to make it easier to pluck the feathers off. Then she used a sharp knife to remove the viscera and disjoint the chicken.
She was just putting the chicken in the pot to cook when the children arrived home from school.
"Mama, must we go to America?" Mikhail's face was flushed and he turned it away from his mother as he spoke.
Adrianne wiped her brow on her apron, then answered, "Your father is adamant that we will go as soon as possible. He left for Kolomyja this morning to arrange for our passage. Now hush and let me get supper finished." She gave each of her children a hug, then turned toward the stove.
"I don't want to go to America."
"It's done. It's finished. Now go and get your schoolwork done. Supper will be ready soon." Adrianne answered, wearily, wiping the sweat from her brow on her apron again.
"When will Papa be back?" Joseph wanted to know.
"I don't know. Don't mention anything about this to anyone. Now go and do your homework. I must get the dumplings made, and put the spinach on to cook."
***
Tato had been gone five days when Adrianne hooked up the oxen to the wagon and went to the vineyard to work. Again, she went to the gravesites and tidied them up, and planted fresh flowers on each of them, then she sat down to rest.
"I haven't heard from your father. I hope he is all right. You know that he loves you, too, and only wants to go to America for our safety. I know his heart will always be here with you, just as mine will be, too. Even though we are in some far away land, you will always be on our minds and in our hearts. Rest in peace my children until we meet again in heaven."
With tears in her eyes she walked down the hill and climbed into the wagon and seated herself, picking up the reins. The oxen were eager to get back to the barn.
Adrianne had been on the road only a few minutes when she saw Tato trudging along looking tired and weary. She stopped the wagon beside him and he climbed in for the ride home.
At first he didn't say anything, so she asked, "How did it go?"
Tato sighed wearily, then said, "Not too well. I had hoped we could get immediate passage, but it seems the ships are booked far in advance. We must get something called a passport. That will take time. There are other things we must prepare for as well."
"What other things?" Adrianne looked worried, and he took the reins from her.
"I don't think we will have much trouble. We are educated enough that we can pass the tests, but we must learn a little English before we will be accepted. All I could do was put our names on the list and hope to be notified of our departure date before it's too late. It could be two years or three. It could be even longer, because we must save some money to pay the passage. And we must have some money to live on after our arrival."
"How much money?"
"At least thirty American dollars when we arrive in New York. And we must prove that we are not criminals, and that we are able to support ourselves and able to work. Thank God none of us are lame and we must prove that we are not insane or blind. They will not accept anyone who is lame or blind or unable to work."
"But how will they know?"
"We will be examined by physicians. And if we are not accepted into America, they will send us back to Austria."
"Send us back? After we've gone to all that trouble and expense?"
"I don't think we have anything to worry about. We are healthy and sane and able to work. Our only problem is learning the language and finding the money we'll need."
"How long do you think it will be before we can go?"
Tato's face looked sad and his shoulders drooped in weariness as he said, "Mikhail is growing up. I just hope we can leave Austria before we have all out war."
"He's only a boy."
"Yes, but Franz Josef is drafting fourteen year olds. And I hear that may be changed to twelve year olds." He sighed wearily, then continued, "We must save the money somehow. We must have it ready when the notice of our passage comes."
"How will we save enough money to pay the fare and have thirty dollars left when we arrive?" She rubbed her swollen belly, then continued, "We'll have another mouth to feed. We hardly get by as it is now."
"We must. I know it won't be easy. Nothing is ever easy in Austria. Life is hard." He tried to smile but his face felt like it would crack.
"Do you really think we are headed for war?"
"War is imminent. It's just a matter of time. There has been too much unrest in Europe. It's bound to happen. I fear Russia and Germany are up to no good. They make promises they don't keep. When have we ever known peace? Why this very land called Galicia, on which we stand, has changed hands so many times it's hard to keep count. Who knows what will happen when another war begins? We must go to America. And soon!"