Hope from the Ocean: (The Prequel to Fireflies )

by P. S. Bartlett

  A minute it was before he took a deep breath and blew it out. Sarah walked to her bureau, took out a handkerchief and placed it in Owen’s hand. “Ye never seem to have one, do ye?” She smiled.

  “Raina is married or at least she was married back in Germany, last year.”

  Rachel’s hand flew to her chest, placing it over her pounding heart.

  “How do ye know this?” she whispered as she rushed to the bedroom door to listen for any movement in the hall.

  “She told me, just now while we were…while I was walkin’ her home.” His voice trembled and he put the handkerchief to use. Rachel rejoined him and placed her pale hand on the sleeve of his black coat.

  “But she’s just a child and …”

  “No, Ma, she’s not a child. I believe she’s much older than what Aunt Kathryn thinks—at least eighteen.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about the practices in other countries, but even if she’s just fifteen, in Ireland that’s not unusual.” Her voice melted like warm butter, spreading over a hot roll and seeped into Owen easily to calm and comfort him. However, she knew he would have to release everything he was feeling before true comfort and a real resolution would be the sustenance he needed.

  “I’m a fool, Ma. I’m a fool of the greatest sort.”

  “Oh, Owen, why? Because ye opened yer heart to her? Lovin’ someone is certainly no crime, for if it were, we’d all be locked away.”

  “I am locked away. I was locked away forever until we came here. Maybe I was better off.”

  “Owen Whelan, don’t ye say such a thing. As I told ye, there’s no way to arm ourselves against it. There’s no learnin’ to prepare ourselves for the wave of joy and the crush of heartbreak love can cause.”

  “I could lock it all away. I did it fer a long time. It gets easier after a while. I shoulda left things be.”

  “Just tell me what happened,” Rachel leaned in and took his hand. People were more apt to open up through touch than mere words.

  “Last night, I lost me head and kissed her, but I botched the whole thing somethin’ awful. Raina’s got a way about her that opens me up like a window. She told me what ta’ do—meanin’ how to kiss her proper and…I did.”

  Rachel’s cheeks grew warm, listening to her son speaking of his first romance. She was touched and slightly embarrassed but charmed.

  “There’s more but I won’t drag it all out to ye. I asked her if I was her first, ye know, kiss and she fell all ta’ pieces. I can’t believe I did it. I hate meself fer askin’ her that. I shoulda known better!”

  “Shhhh, lower yer voice,” Rachel implored him and again rushed to the door and pressed her ear against it.

  “I…told her how I felt about her and that’s when…that’s when she said she had no heart ta’ give me, she’d already given it to her husband a year ago.” Owen took another deep breath and his head fell into his hands, clutching the handkerchief against his face.

  Rachel scurried back to him and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

  “That poor, poor girl. Imagine havin’ ta’ leave yer heart and love behind for who knows how long and travel to another land without them. Somethin’ awful must have happened to her ta’ bring about such an unfortunate situation.”

  “Poor Raina? What about me? What about me own heart? If she didn’t care for me, why the devil was she lettin’ me kiss her?”

  “Oh son, people are complicated creatures. Some we can know our whole lives and never really know them at all. Others, like for instance your Uncle Dell, are who they are and make no excuses for it. I’m sure there’s been some damage done years ago that lead him to where he is now but for certain, there’s no pretense with him and soon, this sober façade will fade as well until God willing, he’s ready to give up the drink without coercion. Me own sister is a puzzle of a thousand blue pieces. Try though ye may, that riddle will never be solved. Since I know ye aren’t the pushy type, I can deduce ye did nothin’ to force these affections on her, so the only reason I can think of to justify her reciprocation is she does care very much fer ye.”

  Owen raised his teary eyes to Rachel. “How can ye kiss someone knowin’ yer already married to someone else?”

  “Try to imagine for a minute bein’ in a situation ye have no say in, in a place ye don’t want to be, in a land ye never wanted to come to and ye have no one who gives a damn about how ye feel. Imagine bein’ so alone and sad that all ye wish for is a few moments of joy. When ye reach such a level of pain that yer heart can’t take anymore, yer mind takes over and moves things around and sorts them, and it hides away the bad things just so’s ye can raise yer head in the mornin’ and put yer feet on the floor. Ye come to believe ye’ve locked the door and tossed the key away, never to open it again. Until one day somethin’ happens that triggers a memory, and yer standin’ there with the key in the lock and it’s like a dam breaks and all of that pain comes floodin’ out from those places ye hid it, and all ye want to do is run away.”

  “I know all about runnin’..”

  “Sleep on it, son. Ye’ll lie awake again lookin’ for sleep but tomorrow is Saturday and ye can sleep as long as ye want once ye find it, but please, be kind in yer thoughts because love isn’t about findin’ someone and lockin’ them away to suit yerself. Ye were her friend first. She needs a friend more than she needs a lover. True love, real love, is when ye care about the other person’s happiness and well-bein’, even if it isn’t ye who provides it.”

  Owen stood and pulled Rachel to her feet, hugging her softly.

  “I love ye, Ma. Yer right, a course. I’ll think kindly and I’ll be her friend, forever if she wants, but I’ll need a few moments to feel sorry fer meself, too.” He walked to the bedroom door.

  “As ye should, son. I know there’s someone, some wonderful, delightful young woman, who’s goin’ to steal ye away from me but always remember, I’ll be here for ye forever, no matter what happens.”

  “No one will ever steal me away. Not even death will keep me from ye, Ma.”

  “Nor I you, son.”

  * * *

  Owen laid awake again into the late hours, taking more than that few moments to mourn his brief first romance. Then his thoughts turned to wanting to know more about what happened to Raina and why she was here and her husband in Germany. He couldn’t imagine having to be torn away from her if she were his bride. How sad the man must be to have lost such a wonderful girl. Before he finally fell asleep, he promised himself he’d get her to tell him what happened and beyond that, he would do whatever was within his power to make her happy, if only as her friend.

  The next morning started out awkward but soon, his delicate handling of the egg they passed back and forth brought a rebirth of their relationship and once it hatched, the phoenix of their friendship emerged anew. His quest was well underway to soothe her every ache and allow her to confide in him what lie behind all her locked doors. He hoped that soon, she would no longer bear the burden of her secrets alone.

  Each evening stroll that followed sent him home with a key to a door which no longer existed. They were not only unlocked but they were unhinged and tossed aside. Raina’s memories and emotions were now free to roam from room to room in her mind with no barriers, at least while walking at Owen’s side. They still lingered for a bit in the dark breezeway but in those stolen minutes, Raina shared how she had run away to marry her heart’s desire.

  “He was zee son of a baker and he delifered bread to zee vealthy families in my fillage.”

  Her eyes lit up with tiny white stars when she spoke of her Victor and how he’d swept her off her feet with his deep, baritone singing as he strolled along with his wagon.

  “Ve eloped to anozer fillage, vere he had a tiny one room cottage and a garden full of flowers planted for me of every color. Ve Vould have been poor but fery happy togezer.”

  “If ye can tell me, what happened?”

  “My faser and brosers came in zee early mornink before sunrise
. Zey broke zee door and tore me from his arms. Zey accused me of bringink shame upon zem and poor Victor…he paid zee price,” she whimpered and began to cry. “Zey beat him so bad and left him near deas. Zen…zey set our cottage on fire and zere zey left nossing but ashes.”

  “What about your marriage? Wasn’t it legal?”

  “ My faser was granted zee a-annulment and once passage to America vas granted, I vas allowed to finally leafe my bedroom but only to be put on zee ship to Philadelphia. Here, I vould serfe in my Uncle’s household and in zee Doyle’s, until my faser forgifes my disobedience and zee shame I put upon zee family and allows me to return. I do not efen know if Victor lifed but I beliefe I still feel his heart beatink from across zee ocean.”

  “If he is alive, he should come to America and find ye. I know I would. Here, everyone can be with who they love. I pray someday I will be loved as ye love Victor.” Owen smiled.

  “You remind me so much of him. Gentle, kind and you tell zee bad jokes.” She giggled, swiping his unruly hair away from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I nefer meant to hurt you.”

  “Well, I may remind ye of him but I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, just so’s ye know.” he laughed. “But I’ll live.”

  “You schtill say zee vords I cannot underschtand.” She laughed. “Goodnight, Owen. I do lofe you, my friend.” As always, Raina ran off into the darkness, stopping under the lamppost for her final wave only this time, she bounced away like a ball instead of trudging through the snow as though her pockets were full of bricks.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  January finally arrived and Owen had become well acquainted with his new surroundings at school. Their house was small but Rachel had decorated it lovely. Having used most of her fortune on schooling expenses prior to Owen’s entry into the university, Rachel sold what she had left to purchase the house and modestly furnished it. Fortunately, she was able to bring the boxes of books Owen had accumulated with them, and converted the parlor into a library, dedicated solely to Owen’s studies and research.

  Kathryn came to visit with Rachel every Saturday for tea and by spring, they enjoyed their afternoons strolling through the shops and greeting the fine ladies of Center City. Rachel wasn’t interested in a social life but Kathryn was enthralled by it all and often nudged Rachel to accept any and all invitations to local events and parties.

  Rachel was so pleased that Owen thrived at Perelman. He’d leave just after dawn and most evenings wouldn’t arrive at home until after dark. Rachel spent a great deal of her time reading and playing the small, second hand piano she purchased with the sale of her wedding ring. She wouldn’t have parted with it and planned to pass it to Owen for his own bride but he insisted, citing it would be a long time before he would have time to court, let alone marry, and she needed her music to keep her company while he was at school.

  Kathryn barely spoke of Dell when she came for her Saturday tea. Rachel enjoyed these days with her sister and would not have them tainted by stories of Dell’s tragedies; likewise, Kathryn would not discuss anything to bring down the conversation anyway. Rachel knew her sister could not bear the shame of sharing anything that might make her life sound less than pristine. Although her sister no longer pretended or put on airs, she simply stuck to the rule of “if you’ve nothing nice to say then say nothing”, and she could always find something nice to say about everything other than Dell.

  The sisters were content with their relationship but Rachel knew that Kathryn still pined for her dear friend Elizabeth in Ireland. Elizabeth’s letters were coming more frequently but they were full of concern for her daughter and the activities that she felt were not befitting a fair and gentle Irish young lady. Kathryn brought the letters when she visited and they would sit beneath a shade tree while she read them aloud. Rachel often suspected that Kathryn omitted certain things so as not to portray Elizabeth’s life as anything less than perfect. However, some of the passages slipped through the cracks and Rachel knew that Elizabeth longed to bring her daughter to America, if for no other reason than to break her away from the stables. She also spoke of the horrible famine and the droves of people now fleeing the country or worse, dying by the thousands.

  Raina still worked in the Doyle home, but one bitter cold Saturday in December, 1845, Kathryn arrived shaken and in an obvious state of dismay. For once, she opened up to her sister and confessed she’d heard from Raina’s aunt that she would no longer be working for them as she’d run off during the night. She’d apparently left a note that said that something she’d waited for quite some time had arrived and she needed to go and collect it.

  “That was all she said?” Rachel asked.

  “Indeed. She was a sweet young girl. I certainly hope whatever she needed to collect was worth losin’ a fine roof over her head and such a decent and upstandin’ family.” Kathryn sipped lightly on her china cup and sat it quietly in its dish.

  Rachel took a sip as well over a wide grin. She couldn’t wait for Owen to return that afternoon so she could share the news with him. Rachel had been doing some digging as well as piano playing. Owen had taken very good mental notes of Raina’s memories and relayed them all to Rachel. For months, Rachel had been corresponding with young Victor in Germany and arranged passage for him to America. When she didn’t hear from him for several months, she assumed something had happened and she gave up her cause as lost.

  Despite her frail and delicate state, a sudden warmth grew over Rachel and she removed her shawl and sat it to the side. “My goodness, Sister, it’s very chilly in here. I don’t know how ye and Owen could live in such a small place. Ye could have stayed with us indefinitely, ye know, and saved yerself some money too,” Kathryn ranted, picking up Rachel’s shawl and placing it back around her shoulders.

  “Ye worry far too much. I can assure ye I am quite well and I enjoy the solitude here,” Rachel said as she once again removed her shawl and stood to stoke the kitchen stove.

  “Are ye eatin’, sister? Ye’ve always been a rail but my goodness, yer barely skin over bone now,” Kathryn said, finishing her tea.

  “Any letters from Elizabeth this week? I so enjoy those,” Rachel answered, changing the subject.

  “Not this week. I’m sure she’s been quite occupied, not to mention the mail just isn’t reliable. Do ye know I was thinkin’ just last night how I haven’t seen Owen since Thanksgivin’?”

  “I assure ye he’s quite well. I’m so proud of his work and God willin’, another eighteen months and he will graduate and begin his internship at the hospital.”

  “Ye must be so proud. Ye’ve done a wonderful job. To think nearly five years alone in Ireland raisin’ a son and then, in such a short time here in Philadelphia, he’ll be a doctor. Ye’ll be the mother of a doctor, Rachel. How excitin’!”

  “I’m sure it’s goin’ to be exciting for Owen. To be a man and be able to follow yer own callin’ must be a miraculous existence, wouldn’t ye agree?”

  “Indeed, sister, indeed. Of course, I don’t have the faintest idea what my own callin’ would have been, had I the opportunity to follow it anyway.” Kathryn chuckled.

  “Oh, I know I’ve followed mine.”

  “How do ye know?”

  “My son is a wonderful, lovin’, intelligent man. My callin’ was Owen,” Rachel replied, staring off out the small kitchen window.

  When she turned back to her sister, Kathryn appeared lost in thought as well. However, with her sullen expression, she was not in the same emotional place as Rachel.

  “Well, I suppose I should be gettin’ along home. Without Raina I have a mountain of things to take care of. I’ll need to stop by the church on my way and ask the pastor if he knows of anyone looking for a housekeeping position. I simply cannot manage that enormous home all alone.”

  She sashayed into the parlor to retrieve her coat and hat with Rachel close behind. With several air kisses and a delicate embrace, she was off to her awaiting cab and on her way back up to Fairhill.

/>   Rachel sat quietly for a while in Owen’s library parlor, thumbing through his favorite book, which he always left on the side table under the lamp. Still folded near the center of the pages was Raina’s note with a few strands of her blond hair peeking out from it. Owen believed he’d accidentally packed the book with all of his others when they moved out of the Doyle’s home but Rachel knew how the book ended up in the box, buried deep beneath the volumes of anatomy and science. The head from which this golden lock of hair had been snipped knew very well this was Owen’s favorite and couldn’t bear to imagine him without it at his side.

  “Hello, Ma,” Owen said, as he entered the front door covered in snow.

  “It’s snowin’ again?” Rachel rose to greet him.

  “This is Philadelphia in December, Ma,” he answered, unraveling the thick wool scarf from around his neck and dropping a stack of books on the sofa.

  “Are ye hungry, dear? I can fix ye somethin’.”

  “I’m starved! I was goin’ to stay fer dinner at school with some mates but I was hopin’ to catch Aunt Kathryn today to ask about Raina.”

  “Come into the kitchen with me and I’ll give ye the news.”

  * * *

  Some months passed before Rachel and Owen heard anything from Raina. The summer brought with it a surprising letter at last. Raina and Victor reunited as Rachel had hoped. They’d remarried in Baltimore and were expecting their first child. Owen’s mixed emotions were soon put to rest when he imagined how happy Raina must be and of course, Victor as well.

  “Everythin’ is turnin’ out exactly as it should,” Rachel beamed, taking her son by the arm as they strolled through the local park.

  “Just think, Ma, a year from now I’ll be a doctor. Could ye have imagined such a thing?”

  “I always knew ye were destined to do great things with yer life, son.”

  “Always knew? How so?”

  “There was somethin’ in yer eyes the first time I looked down into them. There was a magic I couldn’t explain. I could see the green grass, the meadow, the blue sky and a rainbow, covered in butterflies all aflutter.” Rachel stopped and looked up at Owen, now a man towering over her, and took him by his chin. “When I did this, ye raised those green eyes up at me and I knew instantly no matter where ye came from, ye belonged to me.”