“Wow.”
“You can say that again. It really was a miracle.”
“And Mom didn’t know you were alive?”
“I sent letters to her address, but they were returned.”
“The same happened to her.”
“That may be because I wasn’t considered officially stationed in Honolulu at the time. I’d only gone over to do some work, after that I was supposed to return to San Diego for further orders. And it’s possible that I was listed as missing in action for a while. The world was a mess back then.”
“And then Mom got married,” I said sadly. “And her name changed. No wonder you couldn’t find her.”
I asked him more questions and discovered that he’d been living in Ireland since the late forties. “After the war and all . . . I just couldn’t find anywhere I felt at home in America again,” he said. “I drifted from town to town, job to job, and finally I came over here to visit and liked it so well that I never went back to America.”
“I like it here too.”
Then he asked me lots and lots of questions. I told him my whole life story, and he sat there and listened to me as if I were the most exciting guy in the world. Ironic, considering all that he’d been through.
“I hate to ruin the party,” Kerry said, “but we’ve been closed for nearly an hour.”
I glanced at my watch. “Man, it’s nearly eleven.”
So William and Margaret and the couple with them gave me a ride back to town. “Is it all right if I call you tomorrow?” he asked as they dropped me in front of the hotel.
“Sure,” I told him, getting out. “My mom is going to have a fit.”
“A fit?” Margaret said.
“American slang,” William said, winking at me.
Then I got out and waved, but as I went into the hotel, I had to wonder . . . what would Mom think of this? I’d have to be careful how I broke it to her—she might have a heart attack for real!
15
Colleen
It wasn’t even seven in the morning when I heard knocking at my door. I sleepily pulled on my robe, then opened it to find Jamie standing in the hallway. He had an odd expression— I couldn’t quite read it.
“Is something wrong?” I asked instinctively, then noticing that he was fully dressed, added, “Have you been out all night?”
“No and no,” he said quickly. “I just got up really early and I couldn’t wait for you to sleep any longer.”
I smiled as I fastened the belt of my robe. “Now, isn’t that a switch.”
“Can you get dressed and come to breakfast?”
“Can I have twenty minutes?”
He frowned with impatience. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Be right down.” I closed the door and hurried to clean up and quickly dress, barely putting on makeup or doing my hair. I could tell by his nervous demeanor that despite his claim that nothing was wrong, something most definitely was up. I hoped it wasn’t anything serious. Had he gotten into some sort of trouble when he’d been on that island, Inabobbin or whatever it was called? As I pushed my feet into my shoes, I reminded myself that worrying would not help. I remembered my resolve to trust God. And so as I hurried downstairs, I prayed. Please, let me take whatever this is calmly. Let me trust you implicitly, God, and help me to remember that you are able to fix anything. Amen.
“You’re here,” Jamie said brightly, pulling out a chair for me. We were the only ones in the restaurant and I wasn’t even sure they were open yet, although I thought I smelled coffee drifting from the kitchen area.
“What is going on?” I asked in a controlled voice, forcing a smile. “You have me quite curious.”
He slowly inhaled, then placed both of his hands palms down on the table and exhaled. “You are not going to believe this, Mom.”
I thought I could feel my blood pressure rise, but I kept my face expressionless and just waited. “Try me.”
“My father is alive.”
I blinked and steadied myself. Had my son taken leave of his senses? “No, Jamie,” I said calmly. “Your father is not alive. I saw him . . . uh, in his coffin . . . before the internment, and Hal was most assuredly—”
“No, not that father, Mom. William, I mean Liam O’Neil—he is alive.”
“Jamie . . .” I glanced toward the kitchen now, longing for someone to come out and help me make sense of this or at least bring some coffee to clear my head. “I think you must be confused—”
“No, Mom. I know it probably sounds crazy, and I had a feeling it would be hard for you to believe this. It wasn’t easy for me either. But, really, I met him last night. Liam O’Neil is very much alive.”
I considered this. “Do you mean you met someone by that name, because if that’s the case, I’m sure there must be dozens of Liam O—”
“No, Mom, really, this is the guy—the real deal. We talked for a couple of hours. He told me everything—about Pearl Harbor, about you, and how he lost his leg.”
I blinked and leaned back in my chair, trying to catch my breath and to take this in. Was Jamie crazy? “What on earth are you saying?”
“Liam O’Neil is alive. He’s been living in Ireland for about fifteen years and he’s a really great guy.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe just now, like someone had wrapped a thick corset around my rib cage and pulled it tight. I wondered if I should lean over and put my head between my knees, allow some oxygen to my brain, but instead I just sat there, staring at my son. Was it possible that he’d been smoking some of that marijuana that I’d just read about? Or perhaps that other new drug LDS or SLD or whatever that mind-altering chemical was called?
“Jamie?” I tried again, my shaky voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Are you certain you weren’t hallucinating?”
He actually smiled now. “Listen to me, I really met him. It was my piano music that brought this whole thing up. This lady named Margaret came up and told me that I played just like him, and she talked to me for a while, then introduced me to the guy, and it really was him.” He was so excited that I couldn’t help but almost believe him. “Isn’t it great?”
I just shook my head, still trying to absorb all of this. Liam was alive . . . a woman named Margaret . . . they had spoken to my son. “And who is Margaret?” I finally asked. My voice sounded like that of a small child, and it felt as if the earth were moving beneath my feet, like I was losing my balance, tipping sideways.
“I don’t really know exactly,” he admitted. “I mean, she was with Liam and everything. But when she introduced herself, I think she said she was his friend.” He brightened. “She’s also a friend of Kerry’s. Kerry introduced me to Margaret. And Liam and Margaret were with this other couple, I can’t even remember their names, but they live near Clifden. Liam and Margaret live in Galway. I think they came to visit for the weekend.”
I took in a shaky breath. “And what did Kerry think of all this? Was she convinced that this Liam person was really your father as well?”
“Of course. Because he is.”
“But, Jamie . . . it just sounds so—so impossible.”
So then he went into detail about how Liam had been on the SS Arizona when the bombs fell that day, and how he’d been seriously injured, unconscious for a long time, and how he lost a leg . . . and slowly it all began to sink in. It began to make a tiny speck of sense. Those were strange times back then. So much going on. I supposed people, papers, records . . . maybe it could’ve gotten mixed up.
“But what about the Red Cross?” I tried.
“Liam said he wasn’t actually stationed in Honolulu,” Jamie continued. “He was only supposed to be there for a couple of weeks. That’s why they didn’t have a record of him and probably why your letters were returned.”
I nodded. Everything seemed fuzzy and blurry just now, as if the restaurant had filled with smoke, but no one was smoking. Although I wasn’t a smoker, I almost felt as if I could use a cigarette. “Yes,” I said meekly, “t
hat sounds possible . . .”
“So, do you believe me now?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what I think just now, Jamie.” I glanced to the kitchen. “Could you see if someone could get me a cup of coffee . . . or a glass of water or something?” My throat felt tight and it was still difficult to breathe. I wasn’t sure if I was about to cry or laugh or have a stroke. But Jamie left and came back after a couple of minutes with a cup of coffee.
I took a cautious sip, then a slow breath. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“It was a shock. I understand. I wanted to tell you as carefully as possible.”
“You did just fine, son.” I took in another slow breath.
“It’ll get better,” he reassured me. “After it sinks in some. I was pretty stunned at first too.”
I just nodded and took another sip of coffee. It was black and hot and I usually drank mine with cream, but right now I didn’t care. Jamie waited patiently as I sat there slowly sipping my coffee in amazed silence. I felt like I wasn’t really there just then, like I was just floating around and watching this woman and her son. Finally, I remembered the prayer I’d prayed in the stairs. I silently prayed it again. God, help me with this. That was all. I thought I could breathe again.
“Do you feel better now?” Jamie asked after I finished my coffee.
“Yes. I think so. But I suppose I’m still in shock. It’s a lot to take in.”
He reached over and put his hand on mine. “I know.”
Then I smiled at my son. Despite my tumultuous feelings, I had to appreciate how mature he was being just now. How supportive and understanding. When had he grown up so fast? “Thanks.”
We talked about it some more. Jamie told me how Margaret had mentioned how much he looked like Liam when he was younger. “She must’ve known him for a long time.”
I nodded, almost afraid to admit it. “You do look like him, Jamie. Strikingly so.”
“He seems really nice.”
“Did he play piano for you?”
“No.” Jamie frowned now. “But I’d sure like to hear him.
” “That would be nice.” Even as I said these words, I wondered at myself. How was I calmly sitting here? How was I able to hear all this without falling completely apart?
“You’re going to see him too, aren’t you?”
I considered this. “Do you think he wants to see me?”
“Of course!”
Finally the waitress appeared, refilled my coffee cup, and took our order. I didn’t feel the least bit hungry, but I ordered a bowl of oatmeal anyway.
“I told him he could call today.”
“Here?” I asked stupidly. “At the hotel?”
“Sure. Is that okay?”
My hand flew up to my hair. I knew I must look disheveled and how, feeling so rushed, I hadn’t dressed very carefully, hadn’t even put on lipstick. “When?”
“I don’t know. Probably not this early.”
“Yes, of course.”
As I picked at my oatmeal, I wondered about Liam. What would he think of me now? I was so much older. And who was Margaret?
“Did Liam tell you if he married?” I asked suddenly. “Does he have children?”
“He didn’t mention it.”
“Oh . . .”
“How do you feel about him now, Mom?”
I stared at my son, looking so much like his father. “I don’t know, Jamie. It’s been so long that it doesn’t even seem real to me. If I didn’t have you, I might even doubt that I’d ever known someone named Liam O’Neil. It’s like an old movie that I watched a long time ago.”
“But it’s real, Mom. He’s real. You know that, right? You do believe me?”
“Yes, of course, I believe you.” I looked down at the table. “Do you mind if I excuse myself, Jamie? I still need some time to process all this.”
“Sure, Mom.” He even stood as I got up. Such a gentleman. When had he grown up so nicely?
“I’ll be in my room,” I said as I set the linen napkin on the chair.
“I’ll finish up my breakfast and then be in my room too.”
Then, feeling slightly robotic, I mindlessly walked out of the dining room, mechanically up the stairs and into my room where I locked the door, then sat down on my still unmade bed and just cried. I wasn’t sure exactly why I was crying—were they tears of regret? Fear? Anger? Relief? Or perhaps just a cleansing of sorts.
But, after the tears subsided, I knew I had only one resort. I knew that I needed to give all of this to God. It was far too much for me to carry alone. And so I did. Then I took a long, soothing bath, adding some salts that I’d picked up in town. After that, I carefully did my hair and my makeup. Then I put on the lovely black-and-white Donegal suit that I’d purchased in Dublin. I studied myself in the mirror, and although I was much older than the last time Liam had seen me, I thought perhaps I didn’t look too bad.
I wasn’t sure what to do then. I certainly didn’t trust myself alone with my thoughts. If not for my prayers, I felt I was hanging by an emotional thread. So I went and knocked on Jamie’s room and told him that I was going to take a walk.
“You won’t be gone long, will you?” He looked worried.
“No, I just want to stretch my legs while the weather holds. I heard it’s going to rain again this afternoon.”
He grinned. “What a surprise.”
“I may stop at McGinney’s for a cup of coffee,” I said. “And to read the paper.”
He nodded as if making a mental note of this. “Okay.”
Then I went for a little walk, but most of the shops were closed and the streets fairly deserted. Then I realized it was Sunday and people were probably at mass or church. Fortunately, McGinney’s, as usual, was open. So I got my coffee and then sat and distracted myself by reading the paper. I’d been curious as to what was going on in the United States lately. Life had seemed tenuous since the Kennedy assassination, and I had meant to keep up on the news. I felt as if the future was shaky. Not just for me personally but for our whole country, perhaps the whole world.
“Colleen?”
I looked up from my paper and instantly knew who this tall handsome man was, but I was unable to answer.
“May I join you?”
I nodded and set the newspaper aside. “Liam?” The word emerged as a whisper.
He smiled as he sat. “Colleen, you look just as beautiful as ever.”
I felt myself blushing. “You look fine too.” I liked the distinctive gray hair that had gathered at his temples and the fine creases by his eyes, as if he smiled a lot. This made me feel happy.
“I’m still in complete shock.” He slowly shook his head. “This is all so unbelievable.”
“I know . . .”
“I have so many questions.”
“So do I.”
“Ladies first?”
I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go first. I wasn’t even sure where to begin. “I wrote to you in Honolulu,” I finally said. “Over and over. My letters were all returned.”
“That’s what Jamie said.”
“I was frantic when I discovered I was pregnant.” I shook my head as I recalled the horror at that discovery.
“I wish we’d gotten married.”
“I was so stupid.”
“You were trying to be sensible.”
“No,” I admitted. “I was being selfish and vain. I wanted to have a real wedding. I wanted my family to come out and meet you. I wanted to show you off.” I looked down at the table, swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.
“I triedto find you, Colleen. I really did.”
“Jamie told me that.”
“When I got back to the mainland, you and Wanda weren’t at the apartment. No one knew where either of you had gone, there was no forwarding address. I made so many phone calls to Johnson families in Southern California, all with no results . . . finally I just gave up
. It seemed like you had vanished into thin air.”
“We lost the apartment. Wanda got married, her name changed. And my family is just one of thousands of Johnsons in Minnesota, not California.” I sighed at the hopelessness of two people separated by war and life and death and desperate circumstances. “I got a job selling shoes . . . I moved to Pasadena in December, then got married after a couple of months . . . my last name changed to Frederick.”
“Jamie told me that your husband died a year and a half ago.”
“Hal was a good man, he took good care of us.”
He nodded sadly. “Did you love him?”
“I was desperate . . . I didn’t think I could raise a child by myself. Hal loved me and in time I learned to love him . . . in a way . . . and he was a good dad to Jamie.”
“Jamie is a fine young man. You did an excellent job raising him.”
This made me laugh. “Jamie is what Jamie was going to be. I think you’ve had as much to do with it as I have—he is so like you.”
He seemed to consider this. “I just couldn’t believe it when I heard him playing the piano last night.” Liam’s eyes lit up. “It was so amazing to find out who he was. I’m sure my friends thought I was about to have a heart attack. I never dreamed I had a son, Colleen—that we had a son. It was so incredible, surreal. But hearing him on the piano, well, I just knew.”
“I sort of know what you mean about the piano.” Then I told him about my own experience less than a week ago, how Jamie had taken me so by surprise and how I had only told him the truth about Liam after that. “That’s why I brought him to Ireland,” I explained. “I thought it was the perfect place to tell him.”
An Irish Christmas Page 13
