American Dreams by John Jakes

cent of Papa's money.'
    'This comes from me,' lisa protested.
    'Take it back, Mama.' Fritzi held out the envelope. 'If you don't, I'll put it in Carl's pocket when he isn't looking. Or I'll give it to a stranger.'
    'Oh, please, liebchen - don't hate your papa so much.'
    'I don't hate him. But I'm going to prove I'm old enough, and brave enough, to take the worst New York has to offer, and succeed.' What she said was impulsive bravado. Another hundred dollars would sustain her for a long time. Her anger and resentment just wouldn't permit her to take it.
    Carl returned. They all hugged and kissed and said their farewells.
    Inside the day coach, Fritzi pressed her forehead against the cold glass and Eastbound
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    waved a handkerchief as the Empire State Express pulled out.
    lisa disappeared in the steam. Burly Carl ran beside the moving train, waving his cap until he was left behind. The Express headed south to go around the bottom of Lake Michigan. Winter darkness was already settling on the land.
    1
    Fritzi had never been by herself on Christmas. Even touring, she'd had the m boozy
    companionship of other actors. She tried not to think about it.
    ¦
    But it was hard. Village depots and main streets passed by, warmly lit
    ¦
    like toy towns. At a level crossing, three farm children dragging a freshcut 1Christmas tree waved at the train. Later, Fritzi glimpsed a family through Page 60

    a window, gathered around a pump organ. She averted her head.
    The conductor stopped by her seat. 'Ticket, ma'am.' He was a round, avuncular man, no happier to be working on Christmas Eve than she was to be traveling. 'New York City,' he said, clicking his punch to perforate the ticket. 'Live there?'
    'I will when I arrive,' Fritzi said with a smile.
    'Dining car's forward. Roast turkey and roast goose tonight.'
    'Thank you.' She had no intention of paying for an expensive meal.
    She'd dine from the tin of Pfefferkuchen on the seat beside her.
    The vast winter dark swallowed the train. Its whistle trailed across bleak fields like a mourner's cry. She tried to read a pro-suffrage article in a Ladies' Home Journal but couldn't concentrate. She speculated about the other eight passengers scattered throughout the car. That red-faced man, was he a tinware or button salesman hurrying home to his family? The woman with her two noisy boys, was she a- young widow? And the swarthy gentleman in the green plaid suit across the aisle? He had large, powerful hands; could he be a circus aerialist?
    Perhaps an unemployed musician? She noticed a mouth organ in his breast pocket.
    |
    East of Toledo, snow began to fall. Wind rose to storm strength, and before long the Express reduced its speed. Evidently it had been snowing heavily up ahead. As the engine swung around a curve Fritzi saw its headlight stabbing through the raging storm. Drifts were building.
    Half an hour later, with the drifts growing higher, the train chugged onto a siding and stopped. The conductor came through.
    'Track's blocked. Have to wait here for a work engine to plow us out.
    By the way, folks, it was midnight five minutes ago. Merry Christmas.'
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    Dreamers
    He sneezed into a handkerchief and shuffled on. Dread and loneliness crushed Fritzi.
    Ellen Terry reprimanded her:
    Come, girl. Cowardice doesn't become you. This is a great adventure of your own devising, may I remind you.
    Across the aisle, the swarthy man rattled the pages of a Chicago American. 'I beg your pardon,' Fritzi said. 'Do you play that harmonica?'
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    'Some,' he said in a strange accent.
    'Do you know 'One-Horse Open Sleigh'?'
    He played the first twelve notes. '"Jingle Bells."'
    'Well, I grew up calling it 'One-Horse Open Sleigh.' It's terrible sitting here on Christmas like mourners at a funeral. Will you play it?'
    'Okay,' he said with a cheerful display of white teeth. He tipped his soft hat. 'Aristopoulous my name. Christos Aristopoulous. New to this country five years ago.'
    'Like it?'
    'Just