Halstead Street Chapter 2
By Simahoyo
Munk's Grocery was opening yet another store and Katerina Margareta Munk, 16 and oldest daughter, was expected to be there without question. It was about family. She was family, therefore, she would be there to support Mother and Father, as would Franz Georg, aged 13, and Johannes, aged 10. There were all dressed in their Sunday best. And all the kinder were struggling against the starch in the collars, and cuffs. They liked Father's success. It made them happy that he was so good at being an enterprising member of the middle class. Kate (who chose that nickname herself) had remembered the German history their parents had drummed into her head. It is good to be an honest burger. It is bad to be nobility.
Here in Chicago nobility was equal to the "Robber Barons", as Father called them. The chief of them was Charles Tyson Yerkes, the streetcar magnate. It may be better to be Middle Class, but Kate had other plans. They did not include doing what her stodgy, second generation American parents wanted. Kate wanted to be the next Nellie Bly–the famous New York World reporter. This was her passion. But it had to be a secret passion. She was just ready to graduate from High School, and although she excelled at writing and grammar, she had an eye on learning the newfangled type writer. She held all this in her heart. She knew her parents would disapprove, and Franz George loved to tattle on her for every little perceived wrong-doing. And if they ever discovered that she harbored an even more secret desire to vote–she would be disowned.
The first of the fancy carriages drew up. The driver stopping at the hitching post and stepping stones. This was the signal to man (or woman) the cash registers. Father greeted the lady with the silk dress in the very latest fashion, and the hat barely fit through the doorway. Bird feathers jutted from nearly every angle. She wore pearls around her neck, and lovely soft gloves that looked perfectly hand sewn. Her shoes were also in the latest style. Father greeted her as a knight might greet a queen. He lead her around to see all they had in this new, and large store.
As she shopped, another customer came in. This one was a portly man in a good suit and vest over his silk shirt and cravat. He removed his hat as he entered, and Mother greeted him with her full grace and charm. Franz Georg leaned over and whispered, "Gee whiz don't they look swell?"
Kate glared at him, knowing it wasn't proper to talk about the customers. At last she had the lady ready to have her groceries checked out. Kate's fingers fairly flew over the keys, getting the price right in one try. She took the lady's money and gave proper change, thanking her for her custom.
The rest of the day was more of the same, and by closing time, they were all ready for Mother's good dinner. They walked home, since it was only half a mile, and why should they waste money on the streetcar? When they got home, Mother took the stew off the back of the stove, opening the pot and filling the house with a wonderful smell. Kate cut up some cucumber and a bit of onion to add to apple cider vinegar for their digestion, While Johannes pumped water from the sink for them to drink with the meal. Franz Georg set the table, while Father read the Chicago Daily Tribune. Kate knew she could read it after her chores were done and after she had finished her homework, but she still itched to get her hands on it.
As they sat down to dinner, they joined hands for grace–they were good Lutherans after all. And when Father finished saying grace, they ate quietly, politely, only speaking to ask for something to be passed and to thank Mother for the good food. So went their Saturday.
Sunday started with church. Again in their Sunday best, the Munk family took a streetcar–their big extravagance for the week, to the Good Shepherd Lutheran Church. Pastor Faber was tall and thin, with the dark hair of a Bavarian. His voice was amazing to listen to, and his stories were always fascinating–despite his habit of lapsing into German right at the best part, leaving the rest a mystery to the kinder until Mother or Father told them the ending in English. It being Sabbath, the Kinder were expected to read, write or pursue other quiet activities.
Kate read Harper's Magazine by sliding it inside the Lutheran magazine her parents subscribed to. The Harpers was handed off to her at school by a friend whose family bought one every month. When finished, she handed it on to Millie Gardner, and thus the whole class of 1890 was being educated in ways their parents had not expected. The clock's ticking was the only noise in the parlor, used only on Sabbath and for visitors. The horsehair sofa was prickly beneath Kate's legs and bottom. Absorbed as she was, she failed to see Johannes sneaking up behind her. That was until she felt something small and cool run down her back, and maniacal laughter was she jumped.
Kate felt for the object under her dress, and soon a marble fell out. She closed her reading material for fear of what her parents might have to say if they saw it.
"Hans! Shame on you. Don't put marbles down my back!"
"Johannes. Bring me your marbles." Father's very word was law. Especially when he spoke with this voice. Johannes brought his bag of marbles to Father with a look of fear on his face. He stood, looking up, his chin shaking. Father took the marbles.
"You have done wrong, my son. I will take these until you can show me you are mature enough to care for them properly. Do you understand?"
Johannes nodded, sighing heavily.
"And you may need to wait a few more years for long pants"
"Oh Father, please. Franz Georg has them already. So do Charles and Wendell, and..."
"When I tell you, 'no', don't tell me who."
"Aw. Shucky Darn. Okay. I'll behave. May I please read, The Deerslayer or Ragged Dick"?
Father smiled at Han's wheedling ways. "The Deerslayer, yes. Ragged Dick, not on the Sabbath."
"Thank you, Father." Johannes ran off to find his book. Father turned to look at his daughter.
"And what are you reading?"
Kate held the magazines up so that Father could read the outside. He frowned and shook his head. "Katerina Margareta, what are you reading?"
Kate sighed, and showed him her Harper's, knowing she would not be able to pass it along to her classmates now. "I'm sorry Father."
He took the magazine, staring at the story she was reading. "Sherlock Homes? Utter nonsense. Why are you wasting your mind on this trash? You could be learning about science or history or your other studies.. I am disappointed in you. Your Mother and I would like to discuss your future with you. Please come into the kitchen with me."
Kate heard music appropriate to the doom facing her inside her mind. It was as cheerless and draggy as she felt. She followed Father into the kitchen, across the wood floor, to the large wooden table where Mother was already seated in a chair. Father indicated that she should sit.
Had they already picked out a husband for her? It was all she needed to destroy her dreams forever.