Hey! I'm trying to be a good fanfic writer and keep up with my entries but only if people keep reviewing. This is Wendla's chapter.

"Welcome to America."

The next thing I know, we're on another boat to get to Manhattan. We're quiet but exhausted. My illness only got worse with the waves, which made me extraordinarily tired. After we got off the boat, we just stood there. At first I thought we were taking in our new life. There were all kinds of people all around us and I was lost in fascination. Then, I realized we had no place to go. The sun was setting and I could barely keep my eyes open. Melchior looked calm over all but his eyes were absolutely frantic. He was overwhelmed. I was too but I was too tired to even think about it. We were still standing. I decided that I would figure it out myself. I grabbed Melchi's hand.

"C'mon!" I said.

"Wendla, where are we going? I don't think it's a good idea to go this way."

I stopped and snapped.

"Do you have a better plan? I say we just find somewhere to sleep tonight and start anew tomorrow. Sound good?"

He merely nodded and walked with me, never letting go of my hand. I was clearly the leader on this particular adventure. The sun had set when I decided we should stop for a break. Melchior sat down on the grass and I tried to as well but had great difficulty, which was probably due to the baby. By then, I was experiencing some of the difficulties of pregnancy. My muscles were cramping and I was less flexible. Melchi then got up and helped me sit. We were facing a river and he reached for my hand again. He laid back and I followed his lead.

" I promise, Wendla, I will never leave you or our child. I promise that we will always be alright." Melchior said, obviously a bit emotional.

" Melchi, I promise the same thing. This is a crazy situation that we're in but I think we may be able to handle…"

And he was asleep. I opened the pocket of my suitcase form where I was laying and looked at the stamped papers. They had my name, age, height, weight and on and on. Below that information, was the date, June 29th 1892. I smiled to myself, partially at my stupidity for doing this and partially at my pride in myself for being able to do it. So far, anyway.

July 2nd 1892

We were still looking for a place to live. It wasn't easy even though we'd tried to learn from the English book. We'd been sleeping by the river, which I actually enjoyed. I liked the air and slight breeze. It wasn't just as who had the language issue. Most of the landlords didn't speak English or German, for that matter. We were still looking for work. A home was our main concern though. We walked into a building with a broken front door, which had a sign that read in English "open apartment." We knocked on the door of the landlord or I should landlady. She was shorter than I and decades older, probably around the age of 80. She only spoke German, which was fine. We explained we were looking for an apartment and without asking any questions, she led us up to the 6th and top floor. She swung open the door, handed Melchior a key and said rent was $7 a month and that it was due at the end of the month. She turned around and slammed the door. The apartment was not the greatest but more then suitable. There was a small chimney, which connected to the rest of the building and kettle over it. There was a pot belly stove in the corner. The windows faced across the street, which meant more windows. There was a tub in which a guess was designated as the kitchen and a toilet towards the back of the apartment.

This is it, I thought. This is where we are going to stay. Forever, I hoped.

Forever, he thought. He would never get out of this God forsaken town. Hanschen couldn't stand it anymore. All of the people that had entertained him had gone. Moritz did himself in, which was a shame to Hanschen, for he loved to watch the frazzled Mortiz struggle. He found Melchior hilarious. He tried to bombard the order of things. He questioned his teachers outright, which led to being hit. He tried to help Mortiz to make sense of himself, which led to being sent away. Hanschen needed to focus on something. His family was driving him crazy, school was driving him crazy and Ernst was… nothing. Hanshcen didn't want to think about him anymore. It was a mistake, which he couldn't stop thinking about.

He had found something new, though. Frau Bergmann had filed a complaint that Wendla was missing. The town was frantic. It was a small one, after all. They checked everyone's houses. They checked the woods and the river. Nothing, no where. Apparently, Melchior was supposed to be home for a trial stay at home to see if he would "behave." He was also missing. Aha! Hanschen thought, This should be interesting.

"This is interesting," Melchi said.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you ever think we would wind up here? After the hayloft,…"

"No, definitely not."

"Me neither, but we can make it work."

"We will make it work."

He smiled at me. I smiled back. I went to sit on the window and found the fire escape. I climbed out the window and sat down on the steps. It was warm and I looked around me. I saw clothes lines and little children, running around in the alley.

"We'll have that," Melchior said.

He startled me. I didn't even hear him sit down a few steps below. Then I hugged him close to me, with his head against my breast.

July 31st, 1892

It was such a hot summer. I couldn't even believe it. We slept with the windows wide open and took ice cold baths. I had tried to make our home as nice as possible. Most of the furniture I found was on the street somewhere. When I told Melchior where I found it, he was rather angry. He had been working with Alaster, who lived down the hall. They sold the next morning's newspaper in the theatre district after the shows. At a nickel a paper, it wasn't easy. Alaster had immigrated here from Ireland, with his wife, Oona. We had all become friends. Everyone in the building was a big family. On the first floor, there was Mrs. Tammaro, the land lord, the Yosefs, from Lituania, the Jacobas, from Holland, the Gevova's from Spain, the Elipidas from Greece and last but certainly not least the Diamaids from County Mayo, Ireland. Oona and I especially became close. They had 7 children already, with both parents at 24. She even helped me find a job, where she worked. We worked for this rich woman, Jacqueline Howard. Oona and I maintained her clothing and helped her get ready to go out every night. Then when work was done. Around 11, when all of the clothes would be taken care of and put away, we would meet up with Alaster and Melchior and take the subway home, which was located on 514 East Houston Street. We would get home around midnight. By then, the Diamaids eldest daughter, Moyna, who was 8 years old, had put everyone including herself to bed. We would split up into our own apartments and Melchior and I would count the money he had made and on Fridays we would combined it with my weekly paycheck. We managed to make up the first month's rent with $2 to spare. Some night we ate, other's we didn't. We were getting by fairly well.

We worked hard but we had fun. We would talk about anything under the sun, just like on the boat. My favorite thing to talk about, though, was the baby. It just made me so happy. We would spend hours talking about what they would be like, how they would look and if they were a boy or girl. It was simply wonderful, when his face would light up when I would mention him or her and how he would smile. I don't know it was just… nice.

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