Being Mary Ro

by Ida Linehan Young

  “Four hundred thousand. Where do they all live?”

  “I know this is a lot for you, but Boston is a big city, unlike anything you have ever seen. Have patience! I’m sure your sisters will help you explore and see it for yourself.”

  Mary opened her mouth to ask a barrage of questions but closed it again, knowing he had a good point. She would be patient—for now.

  The captain called out for them to meet in his quarters. Mary and Danol quickly made their way past the damaged spar to where he was waiting. He had papers for Danol to sign that would release the Newfoundland from her duty to the court. Dipping the quill in ink, Danol signed his name to finalize the requirement as requested.

  Captain Ferguson shook both their hands, apologizing one more time to Mary for the previous events. Tommy waved farewell as Danol stepped on the gangway and led Mary along the wooden planks to the flagstone wharf.

  15

  The docks seemed to go on for miles, with all sorts of people everywhere as far as the eye could see. Shouting, talking, and bartering all mixed to form a big loud noise that was almost too much for her. Mary was mesmerized.

  “Danol, pinch me. Is this real?” she asked. “Never mind. I should pinch myself for even being here with you.”

  People and cargo traffic were especially chaotic at the base of the gangway. Their boat had begun to off-load supplies in an effort to make the next tide. Danol moved her toward the street, pushing through the crowds offering items for sale, begging for money, or just moving unseeing toward a destination. Mary was overwhelmed and would have quickly gotten lost if Danol didn’t have a firm hold on her arm. Her wide-eyed gaze panned the surroundings while her body followed Danol’s lead.

  The crowds were less intrusive and easier to navigate as they neared the street. “We can get the streetcar to the station. It’ll save time,” Danol said, as they stopped on the side of the cobblestone street. “One should be along any minute.”

  The blur of people faded, and stone buildings that reached into the sky came into focus. This is what a city looks like, she thought.

  Danol’s shrill whistle startled her. Her attention turned to Danol, who was waving at someone out of her view. She leaned forward and immediately pulled back. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She bent ahead once more and grabbed Danol’s arm for support. He grinned at her expression.

  “What is that, Danol?”

  “It’s a streetcar.”

  “Where’s the horse?”

  Danol laughed but didn’t answer. He’d let her take in the wonder of the city’s offering.

  Mary watched as the noisy brougham rolled to a stop. A man stood at the front of the strange rolling platform and pulled a wooden handle. Mary heard a squealing sound from underneath. It was only then did she notice the box-shaped vehicle was riding on tracks on the road. Danol urged her up the short distance to the streetcar, and she took a tentative step before fully committing herself. If Danol hadn’t kept her steady, she would have fallen. He led her to a set of black benches that ran back to back along the centre of the floor. About twenty people stood around her, holding poles that went from the floor to the ceiling. She felt a jolt as the carriage began to move forward.

  Once she got her bearings, she realized she was tightly squeezing Danol’s hand. She quickly released her grip.

  Mary took in her surroundings as they passed through several Boston streets. Concentrating on the scenery kept her from thinking—almost. It was easier if she didn’t think, so she gazed in awe at the brown and red structures backdropped above by a clear blue palette.

  “We get off here,” Danol said, as the streetcar stopped in front of a large, light-coloured building fronted by stone steps and four towering white marble posts. They stepped off, and Danol helped her down.

  “Where are we, Danol?”

  “At the precinct where I work. Your sister should soon be here to greet you.”

  They climbed the steps—too many to count—and entered through one of the massive wooden doors. The black-and-white tiled floor looked like a chessboard that she had spent many nights playing on with Da. A moustached man with a warm smile greeted them from behind a huge oaken desk.

  “Cooper, good to see you. I heard you were back.”

  “Thanks, Mallory. It’ll be a short stay. I’ve some business in New York. Miss Rourke here is expecting her sister. One of the boys has gone to fetch her. Please show the lady in when she gets here.”

  “Sure thing, Lieutenant,” he said, and then nodded to Mary. “I’ll do that, miss.” His smile comforted Mary, who was so intimidated by her surroundings that it must have shown on her face.

  “Thank you,” she said, before Danol whisked her into a room full of uniformed men who all called welcomes to him.

  He showed Mary to a wooden chair and leaned on the edge of the desk to face her.

  “How are you, Mary? Do you need a doctor? It’s been a rough day on you and a wild couple of weeks.”

  Mary blushed. “I don’t need a doctor. I’ll be fine once I get settled at my sister’s house.”

  “She should be here any time now. I still need to take charge of Pearce and ensure he gets to court in New York. I won’t leave for a few days. I should be gone a week or two at the most.” He would talk to some commissioner person to see what he could find out about school, he continued. She figured he must be somebody important because Danol said the commissioner could support her cause.

  “I appreciate that, Danol. I know you’ll do everything you can.”

  “You got that right. I owe you my life in more ways than one. I intend to see this through for you, Mary,” he said with so much sincerity that it took Mary aback. “You deserve to be a doctor.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Danol. I did what anyone would do.”

  “No, Mary. Any other person, especially a woman, would have turned me in the minute she saw me in the woodshed,” he said. “You underestimate yourself and your abilities. We’re going to have to change that.”

  Before Mary could reply, an officer entered, accompanied by her sister. Bridie squealed, and so did Mary. Bolting from the chair, Mary embraced her sister in a tight hug. With both women crying, the officer and Danol left them alone.

  “Oh my God, Mary! You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. The last time I saw you, you were twelve,” Bridie said, as she gently pushed her beloved sister back to get a good look at her. She noticed the bruise forming above Mary’s collar line. Bridie gasped, then renewed her tears as Mary explained Pearce’s attack on the ship.

  They were embracing again when Danol came back and introduced himself.

  “Hello, Mrs. Ayre,” he said. Bridie smiled at the charming man before her. “I’m Danol Cooper, and your sister saved my life—not once, but twice.”

  “Really. Well, now, Mary is going to have to tell me all about that when we get home.”

  “I’m sure she will,” he replied before turning to Mary. “You go on. You must be tired. I’ll do what I can to figure out the university admission before I go. I’ll finalize the matter when I get back in a couple of weeks.”

  Mary winced. She hadn’t had a chance to broach the subject with her sister.

  But Bridie had a surprise of her own. “I understand from Mrs. Ange’s wire that you’ve come all this way to be a doctor.”

  Mary nodded, unsure what her sister would think of her notion.

  “Well, sister dear, and Mr. Cooper, I had my husband check into it when I got the telegram, so there is no need for you to trouble yourself.”

  Bridie informed them that a Boston Female Medical College had been established a number of years prior. It was renamed the New England Female Medical College because it taught more than just midwifery—the first of its kind in the United States. More recently, it had merged with the Boston University School of Medicine.

  �
��What does that mean?” Mary asked.

  “Well, Mary, it means that you’ll be attending doctors’ college with both men and women, that’s all.”

  Mary looked at her. “You approve?”

  “I’ve already contacted the university regarding enrolment,” Bridie said. Mary squealed again and grabbed her sister for another big hug.

  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Mary exclaimed, before bursting into fresh tears.

  “We still may need your friend here to assist, since there are always barriers erected when women try to move into male territory. However, as soon as I contacted the university, they were very interested,” Bridie said. “Then I said you were from Newfoundland, and that complicated matters a little.

  “My husband has ties to the faculty of law, but it doesn’t extend to the medical school. However, he did find out that there is an agreement to allow such opportunities. Robert will take care of any legalities.”

  “I can get the police commissioner to put in a word for Mary,” Danol said. “And we already have a letter of support from a magistrate in Newfoundland.”

  “Well, what do we do now?” Mary asked.

  “You leave that to me, dear sister. With Mr. Cooper’s help, we will have you on the roster before classes start,” Bridie declared. She then invited Danol to supper. “It will be at seven, and we will set a place for you, if you can make it.”

  Danol agreed. He looked at this spitfire of a woman before him. The resemblance to Mary was not easily seen because she had dark, almost black hair and blue eyes. Mary’s hair was red and her eyes green. However, Bridie’s mannerisms were so like Mary’s that it made him smile.

  “Settled, then,” Bridie said. “See you at seven. We can go now?”

  “Yes, of course.” Turning to Mary and taking her hand in his, he said, “See you later this evening. Welcome to Boston.”

  Mary smiled, “Thank you for everything, Danol. I mean it.”

  “Thanks for being my angel and saving me, Miss Mary Rourke. I mean that.” His eyes met hers for a second before he let her go. Mary felt her face redden. She sheepishly glanced at Bridie, hoping her sister hadn’t noticed.

  Bridie grabbed her hand and led her back out through the precinct and onto the street, where she hailed a carriage. When they were settled in the back, Bridie turned to Mary. “Tell me about Danol. Is he your gentleman friend? What’s this ‘angel’ business all about?”

  “Danol is a friend, that’s all. I saved his life in John’s Pond, and he feels he owes me.” Realizing this was but a partial explanation, Mary told the story of how they had met and all the excitement in John’s Pond and on the voyage. Bridie noticed the bruise marks were continuing to form on Mary’s throat.

  “You poor girl. You could’ve been killed, if I understand correctly, twice in the last month. Should we send for our physician?” she asked.

  Mary laughed. “No, I’m fine. And yes, I guess you’re right. The turmoil must be why I agreed to this crazy notion of being a doctor.”

  Bridie’s tone turned serious. “Mary, is it really what you want to do?”

  “Yes. I know it is.”

  “Then it’s not a foolish notion. So you get that ‘foolish notion’ business out of your head,” she said, smiling. “You deserve the best after all the care you gave to Mom and Da. I’m happy that we’re here to help you. Theresa and Nellie will be at the house when we get there, so you’re going to have to repeat everything you told me. And maybe again when Robert gets home.”

  “I don’t mind, Bridie. I have to keep repeating it, because it seems like something that was made up instead of something that happened to me—and in John’s Pond, no less.”

  Moments later, they pulled up in front of a beautiful four-storey brownstone and Bridie declared they were home. Mary gazed in awe at the exterior, which had two white columns framing a luxurious black wooden door and stone steps with ebony wrought iron railings. The windows were much like the vertical sliders in John’s Pond, except there were two and three together instead of the one at home. Bridie’s were trimmed in a ruby red with black shutters. The window boxes were blooming with flowers of many bright colours—all blooms Mary hadn’t seen before. The shrubs beneath the windows and edging the stairs were lush and green and neatly cropped. Mary slowly climbed the steps, taking in the panorama as she went.

  Bridie was speaking to her from the vestibule. Mary realized she had been in a trance. Three young boys lined up in the hall beneath the massive staircase, anxiously waiting to welcome their Aunt Mary. Bridie introduced Robert, named after his father; David, named after their father; and Lyndon. They were very well-mannered and shook her hand. They must be eight, ten, and twelve by now, Mary surmised.

  After the greeting, the boys asked to be excused and went off somewhere in the house to do whatever little boys did. Bridie called Clotilda, her housekeeper, to draw a bath for Mary and then showed Mary to her room. Mary was still silently taking in her surroundings, from the shiny marbled floors to the glistening chandeliers and polished dark wooden stairs that seemed to circle the room. The walls reminded her of the O’Rielly house, with the dark panelling on the lower part and a bright yellow paint above it. The long red velvet curtains were pulled back, showing bright white sheers. Sunshine bounced around the shimmering interior.

  She couldn’t wait to share the details with Meg. The promised weekly letters were going to be long.

  She’d also write Peter but guessed he was familiar with city life and wouldn’t be as impressed as Meg. Would he be happy with her plan to be a doctor? Would he want to join her, or would he think her a fool? Did she know him anymore? She had to stop second-guessing herself. He had asked her to marry him, after all, and her love for him remained strong.

  In the bedroom, Bridie showed Mary an adjoining chamber for bathing. She could hear the maid. Peering inside, she noticed water running from a spout into the tub. Bridie laughed at her expression, telling her she had a lot to learn about city life.

  “When you get out of those clothes, I’m going to burn them,” Bridie joked, or at least Mary thought she was joking. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you. We’re about the same size, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sharing some of my dresses.”

  “I’ve brought some with me,” Mary said, pulling out three faded cotton dresses that her sister remembered sending several years before.

  “I think I’ll burn those, too,” Bridie said when saw the meagre belongings. “Don’t worry, Mary. I have lots of things that I can give you that I don’t wear any longer.” With that, she was gone, leaving Mary alone.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mary contemplated whether to laugh or cry. If she cried, she wouldn’t stop, so she decided that it would be laughter. She stripped and went into the next room to bathe.

  The water was warm and full of bubbles. Her second bath in a genuine tub! What have I done to deserve such luxury? she wondered. Sinking beneath the surface allowed the warmth of the water to penetrate the throbbing in her neck. She relaxed, closed her eyes, and let her mind drift back to the simplicity of John’s Pond. Then her thoughts went to Peter Nolan. With renewed efforts, his face magnetized her daydreams as well as her night dreams. Believing she could start over with him was both terrifying and wondrous. She was allowing her heart to flower to the idea, and with the past hurt fading, her childhood infatuation seemed to have reignited.

  She was startled from her reverie by humming coming from the bedroom. There was a short knock, and then Bridie poked her head around the door. “Are you decent?” she inquired.

  “Yes. I think I am,” Mary replied shyly, quickly ducking beneath the bubbles with only her face showing. “Bridie, is there any news of the fire in St. John’s?”

  “Yes. Apparently most of the city was destroyed. I saw a piece in the Boston Globe stating that the governor was sending relief to the citizens
of the city.” Bridie left for a moment to retrieve the paper and read the story aloud. So far the news was that only three people had perished, more than eleven thousand people were homeless, and the Newfoundland government was estimating more than $13 million in property damage.

  Although the pictures portrayed a horrible sight, the clipping didn’t really resonate with Mary beyond the horrid. She hadn’t seen St. John’s before the fire. She couldn’t comprehend the extent of the damage, despite the fact that the city looked completely decimated. She desperately hoped Peter had found his son.

  Bridie put the paper aside, and ignoring Mary’s protests, she took some bottles from a cabinet on the wall and lathered, scrubbed, and massaged Mary’s scalp, unaware that Mary had already used soap for the same purpose. Mary felt a sudden wave of fatigue fill her body. Bridie drew some water from the tap into a jug and rinsed her hair. She wrapped it in a towel before leaving Mary alone once again.

  Bridie had left several dresses and underthings on the bed. There was no finery like this back home. A lime-green, full-length, high-necked frock helped cover the marks on her neck and made her feel like a princess. A pair of black shoes left Mary wary of the slight heel. Discovering a long mirror behind the door, Mary gazed at the reflected image of a beautiful young lady and almost thought it to be somebody else. She practised walking in the shoes before attempting to navigate the stairs.

  She heard her other two older sisters before she saw them, and within seconds both Nellie and Theresa were hugging and kissing her while sizing her up. Everyone cried tears of joy.

  They enjoyed tea and cake over animated conversations. Mary filled them in on marriages and births back home. They reminisced and shed more tears for their parents, and then the conversation came around to Mary going to doctors’ college.

  Though not as supportive as Bridie had been, Theresa and Nellie were willing to help her in any way they could. They only wondered why she just couldn’t try nursing like their mother had. Both believed nursing to be a rewarding and more accepted female profession.