Sugar House (9780991192519) (3 page)

"Oh, my" replied Hattie. "I was meaning to
tell you, Blanca, I saw three men leaving around two o'clock
yesterday. They were carrying dinner pails and looked like they
were on their way to work."

"Her house is the same size as ours," Blanca
said. "We fit quite nicely here, but I can't imagine all those
grown men in a house this size. What on earth do you think is going
on over there? She couldn't possibly be boarding all those men,
could she? I know she lost her husband last year; poor man, falling
off that steel beam building the Statler Hotel. Dear Lord—falling
fourteen stories down," she said, making the sign of the cross over
herself. "But there has to be another way to earn money than taking
in all those men."

"Fourteen men in one house! Disgraceful!
Where can they all sleep? Surely there are not fifteen beds in that
house? And what about her little boy? Isn't he around Joe's age?
Even if her boy slept with her, she'd need her own room. Isn't the
St. Josaphat civic committee always bringing her a food basket or
two during the week? I donated a bag of potatoes and a pound of
oatmeal to the church last Monday myself."

"Matka?" said Joe. Matka looked at Joe and he
continued. "I was playing baseball with Sam and the other boys
yesterday after school in the street, and he told me that all those
men living there share beds."

"Whatever can you mean, Joe? Share a bed?"
Matka looked sharply at her son. "Did you ask him about the men
going in his house?" Neighbors that meddled in others' business
were looked down upon.

Joe's other uncle, Wujek Feliks, lived in a
boarding house a few blocks from the Jopolowski clan. Ojciec and
Uncle Alexy felt Feliks should live with the family, but Feliks
said he didn't want to burden his brothers. To Joe's thinking
however, his uncle liked to live without the interference of his
sisters-in-law. He'd overheard the women tsk-tsk in hushed voices,
as they prepared food in the kitchen, about taverns, gambling and
burlesque shows.

"No, Matka, Sam was telling me that he was
going to Belle Isle Park today, and I asked him what he was going
to do there. He told me his mother and he are taking a ferry to the
island and renting a canoe to paddle through the canals. There's a
zoo too, Matka, did you know that? Sam and his mother are going to
go to the zoo and an aquarium. Then they are going to eat a picnic
lunch and watch the big steam ships go by."

"That's nice" Blanca interrupted, "but what
does that have to do with the men living in their house?"

"I'm getting to that, Matka" Joe replied.
"Well, it sounded like a terrific time to me, so I said, 'Sam, how
much does it cost to go to this park?' and Sam said it costs ten
cents for the ferry, and the zoo and the aquarium are five cents
apiece. His mother packed sandwiches for lunch, and after they take
the ferry back to the city, Sam said they are going to the Sanders
Palace of Sweets for an ice cream soda!"

"My goodness, sounds like a lot of money to
spend. What a waste when Mrs. Ludwicka must provide for her and
Sam."

"That's the thing Matka; Mrs. Ludwicka has
lots of money now. Sam told me she has seven beds set up in the
living room of his house. The day shift men share a bed with the
night shift men. That way Mrs. Ludwicka gets two times the boarding
money. The men don't care 'cause they only sleep there and get one
meal a day. They have no families 'cause they just got here from
Poland and they left them behind."

"It's hard for men to leave their families
and come to a new country alone; hard for the families left behind
too," Hattie interjected.

"So I asked Sam if I could look in his house
and see all the beds and he took me over there," Joe continued.
"What a sight. All the windows are covered so the night shift men
can sleep during the day. Each man has a hook over the bed he
shares to put his clothes on, and they keep the rest of their stuff
under the beds. There were five men sleeping when Sam and I snuck
in, so we had to be very quiet. Mrs. Ludwicka was in the backyard
hanging laundry, because she cleans their clothes as part of their
room and board. So she didn't see us."

"Can you believe this Hattie? What a shame.
All those men living in her house… I don't care if I was left with
both those boys by myself, I would never…" Blanca was becoming
upset, and Joe felt like he had ruined what had been a pleasurable
day.

"Don't worry, Matka. Sam says it's just for a
little while. His mother is saving most of the money and is
learning English so she can get a job downtown. Sam said his mother
doesn't like all those men living there, but she has no other
choice until she can learn English," Joe explained, anxious to
change the mood back to a lighthearted one.

"Well, I surely hope so. Imagine!"

Hattie laughed. "
One
man in my house
is one too many sometimes."

"Oh, Hattie, stop now." Blanca giggled.

Joe folded the filled circles of dough in
half and pinched the edges together to finish making the pierogi,
and the conversation changed to talk of some cloth Aunt Hattie
wanted to buy to make Marya a new dress for Christmas. Joe was
uninterested, and his mind began to wander back to the Irish boys
playing with the board game on the porch. He wondered if they would
go to Hell or if an evil spirit would come to them at night and
possess them. Maybe nothing would happen and it was just a board
game after all.
Well
, Joe thought,
it sure wasn't worth
the risk for a silly game.

Hattie grabbed a large spoon and dropped the
stuffed dough into a pot of boiling water. After a few minutes she
pulled them out and gave them to Blanca to brown them in the cast
iron skillet that Matka had retrieved from a shelf under the sink.
She placed the skillet on the right front corner of the range, just
the right spot to get it to a medium heat while she chopped onions
on her wooden cutting board. When she finished chopping, she took a
few tablespoons of butter from the icebox and put it in the skillet
with the onions. A delightful sizzling accompanied the delicious
aroma of onion. As she was browning the pierogi in the same pan,
Mikołaj came into the kitchen.

"What delicious smells greet me after a day
of hard work! And two such lovely peasant girls to look upon! A man
could not ask for more," he said. Joe poured his father a beer from
the small keg next to the icebox and handed it to him. "
And
a good son to bring me a drink, God must be smiling down on
me."

Hattie laughed as she gathered her portion of
the meal to take next door. "I am glad to see someone appreciates
my healthy figure," she said, as she balanced the bowl of pierogi
on one of her ample hips and swished her skirt in a flirty fashion
as she went out the door.

Joe sat next to Frank's highchair at the
kitchen table. Ojciec sat down next to Joe. Matka placed the
fragrant pierogi on the table and brought out a cucumber salad she
had made that morning from the bottom shelf of the icebox.

"I'll get the milk," Joe volunteered so Matka
wouldn't discover the surprise hidden on the top shelf. Joe looked
at Ojciec and Ojciec winked playfully at him. After pouring a glass
for Matka, Frank and himself, Joe sat back down. Ojciec began the
prayer over the meal, "Thank you Lord, for these gifts: for the
health of this family, for steady work, a solid home and nourishing
food. Amen."

Matka dished out the pierogi onto each plate.
Ojciec took a bite and said "Blanca, something is missing… ."

"Oh no, did I forget to put in the egg?" she
asked cutting a pierogi apart and looking at the filling.

"No, no… hmmm… I think it needs a little…
whatta you think, Joe?"

Joe jumped up, ran to the icebox, pulled out
the sour cream, and put it on the table.

"Oh, Mikołaj! How exciting! Joe, you did not
even give me a hint!"

Pouring a spoonful of the heavy cream on his
pierogi, Joe began to eat. The warm cheese and dough tasted like
heaven, and he ate them quickly. After only three or four he began
to feel full. Slowing down now, he took a bite of the cold cucumber
salad. It had a refreshing feel after the warm pierogi.

"Blanca, you do make the best pierogi in
Polonia," said Mikołaj, taking a bite of his seventh dumpling.

"Mikołaj, you are just full of compliments
and surprises today. What is going on in that head of yours? Are
you just happy tomorrow is your day off, or have you been elected
to be the next president of America?"

"Well, if you must know, the supervisor of
the school building project let us know this morning that the
school should be completed by November. Just in time too, as I see
it. That old school is not well heated and our Joe needs to be warm
so he can concentrate on his studies and become a great man
someday. Right, Joe?"

"That
is
good news," said Blanca. "A
couple of months ahead of schedule isn't it?"

"Yes, but the best news is that the school
will be dedicated by the bishop on November 14, which is St.
Josaphat's feast day. What a celebration we will have!"

"How wonderful—the Bishop!"

"Oh, and I have one other small thing to
share with my fine family…"

"What, Mikołaj?"

"What is it, Ojciec?"

"Father Gatowski gave me five dollars in
thanks for volunteering every Saturday. So I decided to take our
family to Bois Blanc Island next Saturday!"

Joe could hardly believe it. He had heard
about Bois Blanc from an older boy at school named Franz, the only
child of a butcher. Franz had experienced more of the city's
entertainments than any other kid at school. Franz and his parents
had picnicked at Bois Blanc that summer, and he'd told Joe all
about the steamship that took them there and the fun things they
had done during the day. It sounded like paradise to Joe, and he
couldn't wait to see it for himself. Waiting seven days would seem
like eternity.

Sunday morning, refreshed from their weekly bath the
night before, Joe and his family left for church. Wearing freshly
laundered short pants, stockings, shirt and jacket, he was on top
of the world. His shoes were too small, but he dared not complain
lest his mother think new shoes more important than a trip to Bois
Blanc. In the morning sun, they walked tall and proud in their
Sunday best. Mikołaj smiled as he carried Frank in the crook of his
arm and held his pretty wife's elbow. Life had become a little
easier since moving to Detroit, and they felt like they belonged.
Blanca and Mikołaj greeted other families as they, too, left their
homes and started toward the great steepled cathedral. They passed
several Polish Catholic families who were headed in the opposite
direction towards the Sweetest Heart of Mary or St. Albertus, both
located two blocks down from St. Josaphat.

St. Albertus was the first Polish church
built in Detroit. It had served the community for several years
when the handsome, young priest, Father Kolasinski, was assigned as
the head priest in 1882. After only a few years, reports began to
circulate that his live-in housekeeper was not his sister, as he
had declared, but his lover. The radical priest was thrown out of
the Catholic archdiocese; however thousands of parishioners
remained loyal to Father Kolasinski and banded together to build a
second Polish Catholic church only a block from St. Albertus. With
their own hard-earned money they built the largest cathedral in
Michigan, Sacred Heart of Mary, without the help or blessing of
Rome. All who followed Father Kolasinksi were excommunicated. In
reprisal, the Detroit archdiocese began to build St. Josaphat, just
one block south of the rogue church, for the burgeoning Polish
population. After a few years and much protest and discussion, the
Vatican recanted the excommunications and allowed the priest and
his followers back into the Catholic faith. The exquisite church
was renamed the Sweetest Heart of Mary, and in the end three
mammoth churches lay within four blocks of each other on the same
street.

Joe looked up at the three steeples of St.
Josaphat as he heard the three mighty bells begin to ring, calling
the devoted to worship. Two young women in slim-fitting dresses and
babushkas chatted and laughed as they walked on the sidewalk in
front of him. One was telling the other how a would-be suitor's
overzealous attempt to impress had resulted in his landing on his
rear in a pile of horse manure. Joe chuckled to himself and turned
his attention to a conversation several men were having with his
father, behind him.

"Falling down drunk," a small man was saying
to Mikołaj.

"The foreman threw him right out into the
street in front of the Piquette plant," another added. Joe's ears
strained to hear over the sound of the giggling women in front of
him.

"Everyone knows Jacob drinks at lunch,"
Mikołaj replied. "But how was he drinking in the plant without
being noticed?"

A gruff voice answered, "Apparently he'd
somehow fastened a flask to his back, attached a long tube and
pulled it over his shoulder down his sleeve to his cuff. He'd just
put his wrist to his mouth and suck on the tube and take a drink
and no one was the wiser. Till he over-served himself, that is!"
The gravelly voice guffawed. Joe slowed his pace so he wouldn't
miss anything.

"Too many men hooked on booze lately. Seems
everywhere I look there's some drunk in the gutter or harassing a
lady as she tries to go about her errands," Mikołaj said. "They
don't know the difference between having a nice glass of beer and
drinking a bottle of whiskey. From what I read in the paper, the
whole country is drowning themselves in it. Just adds fuel to the
fire for those Temperance ladies. Watch my words boys—this keeps on
the government
will
decide to outlaw booze."