Author's note - A warning that this chapter has one slight slur against Germans. It's a quick comment, and the other person in the scene offers a different view. If you have any concerns, please send me please send me a PM on this site or a message on Tumblr (HKVoyage). No anons please - I will only answer privately
June 1919
Kurt
Once the Ellis Island immigration official has stamped his passport, Kurt boards the crowded ferry, and immediately finds a spot on the outdoor deck. When the hot summer sun warms his face, he thinks about the contrast to a typical English day in June - wet and miserable. He takes one last look at the Statue of Liberty before the ferry begins the short journey to New York City. Kurt leans against the ferry's guardrail as Manhattan comes into view. He's never seen such tall buildings before. He can practically smell new opportunities and prosperity in the air.
When he disembarks the ferry at Battery Park, he looks high for Mr Hudson and looks low for Miss Berry, but he can't see the couple anywhere. After thirty minutes, he gives up hope that they've come here to pick him up. He manages to find a vacant yellow taxicab, and slips in the back.
"Where you goin'?"
Kurt is surprised at the driver's thick Irish brogue. He's well aware that New York City is filled with immigrants, but didn't expect to meet one so soon.
Kurt opens the envelope that the Countess gave him before he left Westerville Abbey. When he recites the address, the driver whistles low. "The Upper East Side? Your family is doin' all right."
Kurt has never seen so many vehicles on one street before. When the driver starts to weave through the heavy traffic congestion, he clutches the hanging hand strap for dear life. He startles at the sound of so many drivers blasting their horns, and he wonders if he'll make it to Mr Berry's in one piece.
Thirty minutes later, Kurt is relieved when the taxicab stops in front of an impressive three-story townhouse that is directly opposite Central Park. After paying the driver and collecting his suitcases, Kurt makes his way up the main steps to ring the bell.
A butler opens the door, and gives him a look-over before saying, "We're not looking for any more staff right now."
Kurt hears footsteps inside nearing the door, "Who's at the door, Collins?".
When Kurt can see the man, he knows it's Mr Berry - the family resemblance is uncanny.
"I..I'm not here for a job. I've come to see Miss Berry… or Mrs Hudson, that is. I'm Kurt Hummel from Westerville, and the Countess has given me a letter of introduction."
"Do come in. Any friend of my sister's is a friend of mine."
"Thank you." Kurt is relieved that he's found a friendly face in a new city. He leaves his suitcases by the door and follows Mr Berry to the front parlor.
"Collins, please tell LeRoy that we have company. And bring some coffee and sandwiches. This young man looks as if he's half-starved."
Kurt's stomach grumbles at the thought of food. He hasn't eaten anything since he left the ship for Ellis Island.
Once Collins has left the front parlor, Mr Berry reads his sister's letter of introduction. "A Captain during the war… and recipient of the Victoria Cross medal… Westerville Abbey's second footman." Mr Berry looks up from the letter. "You must be friends with Finn. I'm sorry to tell you that he and my Rachel are not here."
Kurt's body sags at the news. All his plans are focused around Mr Hudson's and Miss Berry's help. "Do you know when they'll return?"
"Rachel and Finn joined a traveling vaudeville troupe, and they are not expected back until the end of the year. If I'm not mistaken, they should be performing in St Louis this week."
Kurt is shocked. "A vaudeville show? I didn't know that Mr Hudson could sing and dance."
They are interrupted when a tall lithe gentleman enters the room with a tray. "Finn has a decent singing voice, but I wouldn't say that he knows how to dance. The troupe's owner took him on anyways… he said that the show needed some comic relief."
"LeRoy, I'd like to introduce you to Captain Kurt Hummel. He used to work at Westerville Abbey as a footman. Pamela has written that he was a flying ace during the war and is quite the local legend. He was even awarded the Victoria Cross medal."
"How do you do, Kurt? You were brave to fly a plane. You wouldn't catch me in one of those contraptions." LeRoy offers Kurt a sandwich before he takes a seat next to his companion. Blaine has told him the story of Mr Berry and LeRoy's relationship. Judging by how comfortable they are in such close proximity, and the subtle loving looks, Kurt concludes that it's true. He gets a warm feeling in his belly, knowing that two men in love can work out a discreet but satisfactory arrangement in America.
"We all had to do our part in the Great War," Kurt says. He takes a bite of his sandwich and has to hold back a moan at the delicious flavors.
"What are your plans?" LeRoy asks, once Kurt has devoured his lunch.
"First, I'll need to find a hotel or somewhere to stay. I have a little money, so I'll explore New York City before I start looking for a job."
Mr Berry rubs his chin, deep in thought. "I think a boarding house will be the best place for you to stay. In addition to the room, you'll get breakfast and dinner. There are many to choose from with so many immigrants arriving. Now, I'll have to think of a good one."
LeRoy jumps from the sofa. "I know the very one. It's very clean and reputable, and it's in a good neighborhood. I'll go telephone them to see if they have a vacancy."
When LeRoy leaves the room, Mr Berry asks, "What type of work are you looking for? With your experience and English accent, I'm sure you could find a butler's position."
Kurt shakes his head. "I don't want to go into domestic service. I've always enjoyed fashion, and know how to sew and mend things. I hope to become a tailor's apprentice."
"New York City is the place to be if you're interested in the clothing industry. We have a garment district that produces most of this nation's clothing, and they can't keep up with the demand for ready-wear apparel. You should start there."
Kurt is excited by the prospect of joining a growing industry and revels at the fact that it even has its own district in New York City.
"A lot of the places are owned by German Jews," Mr Berry adds.
Kurt shudders. "I don't think I could work for a German. I've thought of the Germans as the enemy for years. It wouldn't feel right, especially since they took the life of Mr Blaine Anderson."
"When my sister's letter about Blaine's death came, I was saddened. It's very difficult to lose someone… I lost my wife when Rachel was born." Mr Berry pauses and takes a sip of his coffee. Kurt can see a faraway look in his eyes, as if he's recalling a difficult time.
"Kurt, I understand how you feel, but New York City is different than England. It's called a melting pot because many different types of people blend together as one. Most of the German Jews here weren't involved in the war. It would be like people not liking you because your king once taxed tea. Kurt Hummel sounds like a German name, too."
Kurt understands what Mr Berry is saying, but he's not sure that working for a German is the right thing for him.
"There are also Russians and other Eastern Europeans in the garment district. I'm sure that you'll find a good job."
LeRoy returns to the room. "Good news! I've spoken to Mrs Bruce at Ferguson House, and she has a room available immediately. It's about a 15-minute walk from here. Hiram, let's help Kurt take his cases there and introduce him."
The gentlemen lead Kurt along the streets until they reach Ferguson House. It's a beautiful brownstone building, similar to Mr Berry's, and only a couple blocks from Central Park.
LeRoy makes the introductions. "Mrs Bruce, this is Captain Kurt Hummel, VC. He's just arrived from England."
"VC you say? All war heroes are welcome here. Now, let me show you the room I have available," Mrs Bruce replies.
As she leads them up the stairs, she says, "Meals are served in the dining room on the ground floor. Breakfast is at 7:00 AM, and dinner is at 6:00 PM. Don't be late! The bath schedule is posted on the door. Curfew is at 11:00 PM and no visitors are allowed, unless prior arrangements are made. This is a reputable boarding house."
Kurt enters the bedroom and gasps. It's almost as large as Blaine's bedroom at Westerville Abbey. It has a bed, a night table, a wardrobe, a bureau, a writing desk, and a comfortable-looking chair. Why it even has its own fireplace.
Once Mr Berry has set down the suitcase, he says, "LeRoy and I had best be off to let you settle in. Call on us again if you need anything."
"I don't know how to thank you. This room is perfect for my needs."
"You can thank me when you become a famous tailor and make fabulous suits for me," he replies and winks.
Kurt's stomach swoops as the high-speed electric elevator descends from the 57th floor to the lobby of the Woolworths Building. Earlier in the tour, he almost lost his nerve to step into the contraption, but he really wanted to see the view from the top. He's just as nervous on the trip down, but at least the elevator operator seems undaunted and looks like he knows what he's doing. When the elevator pings and the doors open, Kurt is relieved.
Now that the tour is over, Kurt goes to the gift shop to browse the souvenirs. He ultimately decides to buy nothing - the decorative plate that he has from Woolworths in Southampton is enough. For the umpteenth time this week, Kurt wishes that Blaine was with him to share these new experiences and to pass the long nights back at the boarding house. He tucks away those feelings quickly, because no wishful thinking will bring Blaine back to him.
He looks at the rack of postcards, and immediately feels guilty that he hasn't written to his father yet. He feels selfish when he thinks that he has spent all his time sightseeing. Kurt immediately goes to the nearby Western Union office, and sends his father a telegram. Once he's found a job and he's established, he'll write his father a long letter.
With the telegram taken care of, Kurt enters Central Park, his favorite place in New York City. Although he enjoys exploring the Big Apple, he still misses the countryside - the fresh clean air, the smell of grass and farm animals, and tending Westerville Abbey's vegetable gardens. He takes out his handkerchief and wipes his brow. New York City is so much warmer in July than it is in Westerville. He likes the hotter climate, but he'll have to buy lighter suits for the summer.
When he nears a cart, his stomach rumbles at the enticing aroma. He notices the vendor placing a sausage on a bun; it looks as delicious as it smells. When it's his turn, Kurt politely asks, "I'll have a sausage, please."
"It's a hot dog. Do you want it with the works?"
Kurt merely nods, not understanding what exactly he's agreeing to, but his eyes open wide when the vendor adds tomato ketchup, mustard, onions, and some sort of pickled relish. After paying, he sits down on a nearby bench and tastes his first bite of the hot dog in a bun. Kurt thinks he's now found his new favorite food. It's delicious, cheap, and convenient.
As he's eating, Kurt looks over at Conservatory Lake, and watches the men with their sons sail their model yachts. His mind replaces the figures with himself and Blaine, showing his nephews how to race the boats. Set the boat down slowly so the water doesn't tip it over… Kurt, can you show me how to fly a kite?... Uncle Blaine, can we have ice-cream cones, pretty please?
Kurt shakes his head to rid of himself of these thoughts. They only make him feel lonely. He's got to get on with his new life the best way he can.
When Kurt returns to the boarding house, he pays his weekly rent. He's mindful that the Dowager Countess' money won't last forever. He needs to find a job, and tomorrow will be a good day to visit the garment district.
Kurt alights the trolley on 35th Street and Sixth Avenue. He clutches his bag, which contains the Earl's letter of recommendation and samples of his sewing work. There's a whirlwind of activity around him. There are men pushing wheeled racks of clothing to nearby trucks, and delivery men navigating the busy streets with carts of fabrics and notions. Kurt giggles when he sees a man carrying headless mannequins tucked underneath his arms. He can hear the distant whirl of thousands of sewing machines working behind the shop fronts.
There are many men on the streets - some are wearing a wide-brimmed black hat and sporting long flowing beards, while others are wearing skull caps He then remembers that Mr Berry told him that many shops in the garment district are owned by German Jews. He identifies some German being spoken, but most people are conversing in a language he doesn't recognize.
He walks down the street, wondering where to start. He never expected to see so many shops concentrated in one place. When he sees as sign for help wanted at Brodsky's, he decides to start there. Kurt isn't sure what the position entails, but he's not picky about it, as long as it's in fashion.
"Gut margn (Good morning)."
"Do you speak English?" Kurt asks.
"Yes. How can I help you?" the owner replies.
"My name is Kurt Hummel. I saw the help wanted sign in your window, and I'd like to apply for the position."
"Do you have any experience?"
Kurt hands the owner Lord Anderson's letter and samples of his sewing. Brodsky merely grunts. "You don't have much experience, but your handiwork is good. Follow me."
Brodsky leads him up a narrow staircase, and Kurt's jaw drops when they enter a dark and dingy room. There are two dozen people - men, women and children - at work. Some are cutting fabrics and others are busy at sewing machines. Each person seems to have one specific job in producing the dresses. In a dank corner, he sees an old pot-bellied stove where meals are cooked. Two young girls are washing clothes in an old tub and hanging them up to dry.
"The pay is four dollars a week and you'll work from dawn to dusk, longer if we have a big order. You'll have the Sabbath off."
Kurt can't believe how low the wages are for such long hours. Surely, he can find something much better, like working for a gentlemen's tailor. He politely replies, "Thank you, but this isn't exactly the job I'm looking for."
"Good luck, kid. They're all like this."
Two weeks later…
"Would you like a biscuit as well?" Mrs Bruce politely asks.
Kurt shakes his head as he eats the creamed chicken and mushrooms with a baked potato. Why he would want a sugary treat while eating his main course is completely beyond him.
"She's talking about a bread roll," Mr Peterson, a fellow lodger, reminds him.
Kurt sinks into his chair, wondering why two different English-speaking countries use the same word to mean different things. He must remember to call a biscuit a cookie.
"Any luck today?" Mrs Bruce asks.
Kurt shakes his head.
"Never mind. I'm sure that something will turn up soon."
When Mrs Bruce leaves for the kitchen, Mr Peterson, nudges him. "You need a distraction. We're meeting some gals from Stewart's House across the street at a nearby dancehall tonight. They'll keep your mind off things. Come join us."
Kurt replies, "Thank you, but I already have plans for the evening."
Although Kurt has no plans whatsoever, the last thing he wants to do is to make pleasant conversation and dance with young 'gals'. They'll tell him they love his accent and make flirty remarks, and he would have to spend the evening kindly rebuking their advances.
"Aww, leave him alone," another lodger replies. "Look at his ring. He's already got a sweetheart."
Kurt looks down at the ring Blaine gave him and is immediately transported back to the kitchen gardens all those years ago. He remembers the conviction and emotion in Blaine's voice when he made those promises to him. Yes, he already does have a sweetheart, who holds the key to his heart.
After dinner, Kurt slowly climbs the stairs to his room… his sanctuary. He glances at the fireplace and wonders if it'll ever get used. It's another hot and balmy night. After taking off his shoes, he flops onto his bed to rest his sore feet. For the past two weeks, he's scoured the garment district and has come to the conclusion that there is no dream job for him. Each place he goes has the same low wages and poor working conditions. They are even worse than anything he has ever imagined in an English workhouse.
He fondly recalls the kind Mr Moore in the tailor's shop in Exeter - the bolts of beautiful and luxurious wools and cottons. He reminisces about their conversation of the latest fashion trends and designs, the detailed measuring of Blaine, and the careful construction of his outfits. This is the sort of job he wants, not one of working in a crowded room doing one piece of the assembly, over and over again.
Kurt can't take it anymore, and turns his face into the pillow as tears pour out. He misses Westerville Abbey so much. He misses spending time with his father and friends. He misses the respect that the Andersons and villagers give him as a flying legend. He misses the green pastures and beauty of the west country. He misses that feeling of being connected to Blaine at his home.
At the thought of Blaine, Kurt's body racks with sobs. It's not fair that Blaine died so young! Blaine was supposed to be by my side through thick and thin. He promised to love and cherish me, fearlessly and forever!
Kurt wants to go home.
The next morning, Kurt wakes up early. He goes to the sink to wash his face and looks at himself in the mirror. His eyes are red and puffy from crying last night, and his hair is practically glued to his face.
He smiles when he remembers that it's his day to take a bath. He puts on his dressing gown, grabs his toiletries and towel, and heads to the communal washroom. When he runs his bath, Kurt decides he deserves a special treat, and pours a few drops of chamomile oil in the water. When he sinks into the hot bath, Kurt lets out a deep contented sigh.
As much as he wants to return to Westerville Abbey, he doesn't want to do it with his tail between his legs. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his father's face.
He recalls the words his father last said to him "Son, think of it as an adventure. Most things in life worth having are not going to just fall in your lap. You need to take a chance. If you're not scared, it means you're not sticking your head out far enough."
Kurt knows his father is right. It's only been three weeks since he's arrived in the Big Apple, and he's not a quitter. So, the idea of being a tailor hasn't worked out, but he's got plenty of other talents besides sewing. After all, he has a teaching certificate and he knows how to fly a plane. And if that doesn't work out, he could always move upstate and use his farming expertise.
Kurt considers all the new opportunities that could be available to him if he abandons the idea of becoming a tailor. He doesn't want to return to domestic service, but maybe he could use the skills he has learnt in a different way. He could find work in a hotel or perhaps, a club. He could make his way up the ladder to manage a business that would benefit from his knowledge on how to provide service to others.
When the water turns cold, he gets out the tub, and gets ready for a brand-new day. He returns to his room and wonders where he should start. He remembers that his weekly rent is due today. When he counts his remaining money, he realizes that he'll need to economize if it's to last until he finds the perfect job. He recently overheard two Irishmen talk about the cheap boarding houses in Bushwick, Brooklyn.
After informing Mrs Bruce about his departure, Kurt packs his suitcases. He looks in the mirror and is satisfied that his appearance is more than adequate for interviews with boarding house owners. When Kurt leaves the brownstone, he tips his hat at the postman walking up the entrance steps. As he walks down the street, Kurt has a bounce to his step.
Today is a new beginning, and surely, it will bring good news.
Author's notes
Last Sunday, I posted a short multi-chapter story titled "Happenchance" for the 2018 Klaine Fic Exchange on Tumblr. fbeauchamphartz fbeauchamphartz. If you go to my author's page, you will find it.
Many thanks to my fantastic betas, Fearlessly and Lilyvandersteen. I also thank Dblmalfunction, who performed a detailed final review, although all mistakes are mine. I'm HKVoyage on Tumblr.
Next up: Back at Westerville Abbey, Blaine makes a decision.
