Far Away Home (5 page)

“I have the
whole kitchen a mess,” she explained.

“Don’t worry,
love,” Mrs. Maher interjected, “we women will clean up the dishes. You worked
so hard preparin’ such a lovely meal. ‘Tis the least we can do. You two run
along.”

Aislynn’s legs
were like lead. Johnny took her hand, and they descended the steps to the
sidewalk. She wordlessly followed his quick pace through the quiet street as
their shoes squeaked on the fresh snow. Aislynn did not know where they were
going, but she knew they were going together.

They arrived at
the church. The thick, wooden doors were unlocked. Johnny pulled one door open.
With his free hand on Aislynn’s back, he guided her inside. The church was dark
and deserted. Candles had been extinguished, and the sunlight was dying with
the day. He took her arm and walked her down the main aisle. They automatically
genuflected in front of the altar and took seats in the first pew.

Johnny settled
back on the bench, crossed his arms and stretched his legs. “Your father didn’t
tell you,” he began in an offhanded way.

Aislynn balanced
on the edge of her seat, facing him with her hands folded in her lap. She shook
her head. Without time to prepare her defense, Aislynn’s mind was grasping for
valid, compassionate justifications to explain why their union could never
happen.

“You’ve known
for a very long time I was goin’ to ask.”

She nodded.
Impelled to get the truth out, she blurted, “You know how I feel about Tim.”

“Aislynn,” he
smiled, “you have plenty of room in your heart for both of us.”

“You don’t
understand; I really love him.”

“I do
understand. It’s expected, and I’m not askin’ you to stop lovin’ him.”

Aislynn stared
at him for a moment sure he had no comprehension of her true feelings. She
decided to take a different approach, “We can’t get married now; we’re too
young.”

“I agree. We
have to wait for at least a year, maybe more. I found some property I think
would be good for a smithy. It’s uptown, but the price is too high. If I can
get the owner to come down, I’ll buy it. Even then, it will be a while before I
can build much more than the shop. I was thinkin’ of puttin’ two rooms on the
back for us to use just ‘til we can afford a house.”

Aislynn
brightened when she heard the word “house.” She wanted a home. However, with or
without a house, she did not want to marry Johnny, and she did not feel he
understood. Before she could respond, he said, “Let’s just wait and see what
happens.”

She nodded,
believing the longer they waited the more time she would have to find a way to
convince Johnny and her father this was not a good match.

Johnny rose and
pulled her to her feet. “Let’s say a prayer before we leave.”

He knelt at the
altar. Aislynn sank to her knees next to him. She looked up and saw the last
light of day floating through the stained glass window depicting the Holy
Family. The Blessed Virgin, glowing in the pale light, was smiling at her
infant son while her adoring husband gazed down on them.
How serene and
secure she appears. She had no idea what heartbreak awaited her
. Praying the
Virgin and her Son would watch over her family and keep everyone safe and
healthy, the Mahers included, she made a particular plea to God to keep Tim
warm through the notoriously cold Utah winter.

When she crossed
herself, Johnny asked, “Where’s the ring?”

“In my apron.”

“Let me have
it.”

Aislynn was
reluctant to return such a precious gift, but she dug in her pocket and
extracted the ring. Johnny took her right hand in his and placed the ring on
her finger with the heart pointing away from her heart, symbolizing the ring
was given in friendship. He said, “When you’re ready, you can turn it around.”
With the heart pointing toward hers, the ring would signify engagement. She was
sure he expected her to move it to her left hand on their wedding day.

Aislynn accepted
his gesture and thought, for now, she could live with the arrangement. He stood
and helped her up from the kneeler. Johnny lifted her hands and released them
around his neck. Quickly, he reached around her back and pulled her close.
“Have you ever been kissed?” he grinned.

“Of course not,”
she whispered. “Who would kiss me with you threatening any boy who ever spoke
to me?”

“Ah,” Johnny
smiled, “my plan worked.”

Aislynn twisted
her mouth and stuck her nose in the air.

“Well, I’m goin’
to kiss you.”

Aislynn thought
kissing Johnny might be exciting and educational. When she saw Tim again, she
thought it would be advantageous to know how to kiss. Aislynn puckered her lips
tightly as Johnny’s came down on hers.

He pulled back
and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”
she asked.

“That wasn’t
very good.”

Furious, her
hands slipped to his shoulders, and she tried to push him away. Johnny
tightened his grip, as she demanded, “What did you expect? Unlike you, I
haven’t been practicing all over the neighborhood with the likes of Patty Downs
and Linda Gallagher.”

Johnny laughed,
“Aislynn, a man needs some experience, and someday you’ll be grateful I’ve had
it.”

“As though I’m
interested in anything you’ll ever know.” She pushed him again.

“Just relax your
mouth; don’t try so hard.” Acquiescing, she allowed Johnny to kiss her.

“That was much
better, but you’ll need to practice,” he coaxed. Johnny’s hand slipped into her
hair as his lips moved slowly over hers. His other hand pressed on her back
until her breasts were crushed against his chest. In her heavy coat, Aislynn
began to feel warm and uncomfortable. When he lifted his mouth, she squirmed in
his arms saying, “That’s enough.”

“I’ve got at
least a million more.”

Aislynn’s
curiosity was roused. She lowered her eyes and tilting her head to one side,
peered at him. “Save them,” she suggested in a voice that carried an
invitation.

It soon became
Johnny’s habit to keep company with Aislynn each evening after her family
finished eating dinner and went on their way to Quigley’s Pub. While Aislynn
washed dishes, ironed, mended, sewed or knitted, they talked or Johnny read
aloud. On rare evenings when her chores were done, they would play checkers or
card games. Aislynn found him amusing and could admit to being fond of him.
Despite these feelings, Tim occupied a deeper place in her heart and her
imagination. Through time and distance, she could attribute all the bright,
good things he was and deny the negative. When she looked at Johnny, real and
flawed, he fell short of her romantic desire.

The winter of
1867-68 was an unusually harsh one. It brought heavy snow and low temperatures.
For Aislynn, the sun emerged and the world warmed on February 20th. Tim sent a
telegram for her birthday. It was short, but one paid by the word. “Happy
Birthday. Miss you.”

Aislynn read
much more into the four words. The telegram told her he loved her and could not
live without her. It said he would return to New York, or she could join him.
She would see him again, and when she did, everything between them would be the
way she fantasized it to be. It gave her hope, and her love thrived on hope.
She carried the missive in her apron pocket all day and checked it periodically
to confirm his affection. At night, it was kissed and gently placed under her
pillow. There was no more important piece of paper in her world.

A few warm days
brought a brief thaw in March. The damp smells of spring rose in the air. The
streets became a slushy mess, with puddles hiding ice. On the night of March
2nd, the men returned from work to a kitchen redolent with the scent of bread
pudding. Although Brendan was absent, Aislynn fed the men their meals. They
boisterously argued the impeachment of President Johnson throughout the main
course.

As Aislynn
served the bubbling dessert, the door opened, and Johnny stood solemn faced,
twisting his hat in his hands. Aislynn was surprised to see him so early, but
she casually asked him to sit and share their pudding. Johnny’s eyes narrowed
and raced across the cheerful group. His gaze held a question as it locked on
Aislynn. She crossed the room and extended her hands, pulling him toward the
table. Suspecting Johnny held a secret, she teased, “What is it?”

Johnny’s face
fell, his mouth moved wordlessly.

Chapter 5

Brendan had died
instantly. While grooming a horse, he slipped on an invisible sheet of ice.
Brendan’s excited flailing spooked the mare. She reared and caught him in the
chest, crushing his ribs into his heart and his lungs.

Aislynn passed
through the wake and the funeral with complete equanimity. She repeatedly
admonished Sean, Papa Nolan and Johnny for all their fussing about her. Knowing
the Police Brigade made the funeral arrangements, she busied herself cooking in
anticipation of her father’s mourners. Aislynn cooked for two days. When the
crowd departed, she cleaned. She stood unsupported at the burial, holding her
head high. Although she acknowledged being an orphan, Aislynn knew she was
resourceful and capable and assured those concerned she could carry on without
her father.

After the
funeral, she strove to get her life back in order. She sent the Nolans to work
with their supper pails filled and promised a fine dinner upon their return.
When they were far down the street, Aislynn returned to her room, lay on her
bed and cried herself blind.

A knock on the
door brought her into control. She wiped her eyes and hurried to the door. She
opened it on a police officer dressed in his blue uniform, buttons shining in
the sun from the skylight. Assuming he came to express his condolences, Aislynn
felt honored by the man’s personal visit. He spoke formally, “Miss Denehy?”

“Yes,” Aislynn
answered, “Won’t you come in?”

“No, ma’am. I’m
just here to deliver this. It’s from Sergeant James.” He handed her an
envelope.

Aislynn thanked
the officer and watched him leave, listening to his quick, sharp steps as they
struck the stairs. Closing the door, Aislynn sat in her mother’s rocker in the
parlor and opened the letter. Sergeant James had been a friend to her father.
Knowing the police took up collections when one of their members died, she
expected the envelope to contain money.

Aislynn pulled
out a bill for the funeral amounting to the sum of sixty-four dollars. She
blinked and shook her head. 
This must be a mistake.

Pulling on her
shawl, she dashed to the Commissioner’s Office on Mulberry Street. A solid
stone arch etched with the words “Police Brigade” formed a portico on the front
of the granite building and shaded the entryway. It felt degrees colder as she
mounted the steps and pushed open the thick wooden door. Inside, the vaulted
stone ceiling amplified the sound. There were about a dozen people casually
milling and talking, but it sounded like an unruly crowd.

Aislynn
approached an officer seated alone at a desk and asked to see Sergeant James.
Her anxiety waned as James appeared and extended his arms to embrace Aislynn.
“May I please speak to you privately?” she inquired.

James led her to
a seat in a quiet corner. Aislynn produced the bill and asked if there were
some mistake. “Oh, no. The brigade made the arrangements, but they would never
pay for the funeral; that is a privilege reserved for officers.”

“But sixty-four
dollars, where would I get that kind of money?”

“I wouldn’t
know, but if you’d like, I could take up a collection. We do that for the
needy.”

Aislynn had
never considered herself among the ranks of the poor. With her seven years of
Catholic education, few nice clothes and three-room flat, she considered
herself above those wretched souls packed into slums. Feeling her status had
devolved a notch, she felt the need to redeem her place. Straightening, she
spoke in a cool, businesslike tone, “No thank you, sir.” James bowed his head
and apologized for his suggestion.

She threw her
head back and held her chin up, “Officer James, I must also inquire about the
annuity the Brigade extends to orphans.”

“That, too, is
only offered to officers’ children, and they must be under the age of sixteen.”

Aislynn met the
news without reaction. The words sank in, but she would not allow him to see
her disappointment. “Thank you for your time, Sergeant. I appreciate you
sharing this information.” She rose gracefully and strode across the broad
stones paving the floor with her head held high, balancing her station in life
on the tip of her nose.

Panic rose from
her belly, and she could feel it tingling in her limbs as she rushed through
the slick streets to return home. She threw the door open and flew into her
bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she faced the dresser she and her
father had shared. Opening his top drawer, she started to fling its contents on
the bed. Lying under the clothes, she found a tiny pistol. Examining it, she
considered the reasons why Brendan might own a gun.
He must have acquired it
while running from the law in Ireland
. It seemed useless to her. She placed
it next to a small pile of bullets and disregarded it. Slamming the drawer
closed, she attacked the one below. Tucked on one side she discovered an
envelope with her name on it.
Thank God, he has left me something.

With a deep
breath, she calmed herself and gently slipped her finger under the seal and
broke it.

To My Dearest Daughter
Aislynn,

If you’re
reading this I must be dead or close to it. Tim has consented to be your
guardian; it seemed most fitting. I can trust him to always guide you to do
what is right.

Your mother
and I are sorry to have left you at such a young age, but it was not in our
power to stay. We will watch over you while you travel through your earthly
life, and we wait to see you again. Until that time, know you have all of our
love, and in some way, we are with you.

Your loving and devoted
Father.

Aislynn gently
ran her finger over the letter and folded it carefully. After a moment of
thought, she slapped it on the dresser and looked up to heaven and shouted,
“You gave me a guardian, did you? You should have given me money. Where is the
money? How am I to live?”

Aislynn emptied
the drawer and found some of Katherine’s delicate clothing wrapped in tissue
paper at the bottom. Her heart swelled when she remembered her parents’ love.
For a moment, she felt happy they were together. However, in seconds, she
returned to her immediate concern. She began to quest the bedroom: dismantling
the dresser, wiggling under the beds, shaking out boxes where she stored
linens, and overturning the mattresses. Her search widened to the kitchen:
rummaging through the cabinet, checking under the sink, and peeking behind the
stove. In the parlor, she shook out every book, removed every cushion, and dug
into her sewing box, yet nothing appeared.

Night had fallen
when Sean and Papa Nolan walked into the Denehy parlor to find it ransacked.
When Aislynn explained the circumstances surrounding the disruption, the men
exchanged glances and agreed to help her pull up the rug and turn over the
couch. Their efforts were no more fruitful than Aislynn’s.

Aislynn allowed
them to straighten the rooms as she went into the kitchen to start dinner. She
worked silently, her mind spinning over her problems. She needed sixty-four
dollars for the funeral debt, but she only had eighteen. Once she paid the
bill, she had to make a living, but she did not know how. Tears spilled over as
fast as she could brush them away with the back of her hand.

Brian and
Michael returned home, and they all sat down to a hasty meal of fried eggs and
ham with apple fritters. While the men ate quietly, Aislynn moved food around
her plate. Michael broke the silence, “Why don’t you just marry Johnny?”

Sean’s head
jerked up, “She doesn’t want to get married. She’s only seventeen, for Christ’s
sakes. And besides, when she does marry Johnny, who is goin’ to take care of
us?”

Aislynn shook
her head and announced, “I have to get a job.”

“You have a
job,” Sean said shortly, flashing an angry look at Aislynn, “You don’t need
another.”

“One dollar a
week won’t pay for an apartment and food, not to mention shoes and clothes.
And, good heavens, where am I to get sixty-four dollars?” She shook her head,
“No, I’ve got to find work.”

“I’m talkin’
about your job here. We’ll not have you goin’ into some strange man’s home and
doin’ for him.” Sean nodded to his father.

Papa Nolan
interjected, “Aislynn, your job is takin’ care of us. You’ve been doin’ the
woman’s work since my Mary,.. since you were a wee one. ‘Tis time we started to
pay you back. Now, you may not like the idea, but you must live with us. We
can’t go payin’ for two apartments, you know. But, we can be comfortable
together in one. And we will all give you fifty cents a month for your spendin’
money. We could all skip a few pints,” he glared at Michael who was leaning
back in his chair and pouting, “and give you the money for all you do for us.
Now that’s the way I see it.” He paused and looked around the table for nods of
agreement. “What do you say?”

Aislynn looked
down at the table biting her lip. Slowly, she rose and threw her arms around
Papa Nolan, burying her face in his neck. She squeezed hard, trying to contain
her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re our
girl. You belong with us.” Papa Nolan patted her on the back.

Aislynn went
around the table and hugged each one of them. Michael burned red, Brian laughed
timidly and Sean welcomed her with his arms wide. He pulled her down on his
knee and asked, “Would you rather we all moved in here? This flat is sunny, and
the bedroom is already partitioned.” Aislynn nodded and hugged him a second
time.

At Sunday mass,
Aislynn sat in the Nolan pew between Papa Nolan and Sean. When she and the
Nolans emerged through the front entrance, Johnny, his mother and sister joined
them on the front steps. Fellow parishioners approached Aislynn expressing
their regrets and promising prayers for her and her father.

Upon their
departure, she noticed the priest had waylaid Papa Nolan. They stood near the
side of the church, away from the crowd, engaged in deep conversation. Sean put
his hand on Aislynn’s shoulder and said, “He’ll meet us at home.” Johnny took
Aislynn’s arm and the group walked toward Worth Street.

Dinner was
nearly ready to be served when Papa Nolan returned. He fell into a kitchen
chair, his head in his hands. The sight of him sitting in the chair elicited an
automatic response in Aislynn, and she poured him a draught. She sat across
from him and asked, “Where have you been? I know I shouldn’t be so nervous, but
I worry.”

“I’ve been
prayin’.”

“Thank you, I’m
sure Da hears you.” Aislynn replied.

“I was prayin’
for me and for you.” His emphasis on the word “you” stayed suspended between
them.

Aislynn could
feel his body trembling against the table. She could see the sweat erupting
through his forehead and upper lip. His eyes were focused on his worn hands.
They had fallen on the table like a dead soldier’s, on their backs with their
palms up. He looked old and defeated. She surveyed him carefully as her stomach
churned.

The boys had
heard their father arrive, and each one sauntered in from the parlor, expecting
dinner would be served. Aislynn glanced up at them as they circled the table
and took seats. Silence swelled in the room. “Why me?” she asked.

“The priest, he
says you can’t live with us. He says you’re not family and t’would be too much
of a…” he pursed his lips and looked away from her as he squeezed out the
words, “a temptation for three single men.”

Sean exploded,
“The bastard! His mind’s in the gutter!”

The elder
Nolan’s eyes burned into him. His words seethed through his lips, softly, as
though he didn’t want God to hear, “Sean, watch yourself. The man speaks for
the Lord.”

“He’s a drunken
ol’ buggar!”

“Sean, stop,”
Aislynn cried. “Can’t you see he’s upset?” She grabbed Papa’s hand.

“We’ll talk to
him,” Brian offered.

Papa answered,
“I just did. He says it’s an improper, sinful arrangement. All of our souls
would be in danger.” He turned to Aislynn, his voice ragged, “You know dear, I
love you like you were my own, but I do want to meet my Mary again.”

“I know, Papa.”
She ran her fingers over the swollen blue veins on his hand. “I’ll get a job, a
live-in job. I’ll find someplace to go.”

“With
strangers?” Sean turned to his father. “The priest wants us to send her to live
with strange men. Who knows what they’ll do to a young Irish girl with no
protection.”

Papa Nolan’s
face contorted as he heard Sean’s terrifying words. “What are we to do? Go
against the priest, the voice of God?”

“Blast him! He
doesn’t live here. He doesn’t know how things are!” Sean’s arms gesturing
wildly.

“Sean, we’ll
work it out. Maybe she can work for the nuns.” Brian suggested.

Michael broke
in, “And what are we to do? Who’s goin’ to cook and wash?”

“You selfish
bastard,” Sean shouted, “thinkin’ about yourself when we’re turnin’ her out.”

“It’s your
fault,” Michael accused Sean, “If you didn’t fawn over her so.”

Sean’s fist rose
to the side of Michael’s face. “What are you sayin’?”

Seated beside
Sean, Aislynn grabbed his arm, “Stop it. Please. I’m not...” she choked on the
word, “family. It’s true.”

Sean stood,
dragging her with him. He shook her off his arm and took two strides toward the
door. “I’ll take care of the priest.”

“Sean, no!” Her
voice became shrill as she followed him to the door. “You’ll disgrace us all.”

“He’ll not run
our lives!” he declared as he moved down the hall.

Aislynn pivoted.
“Brian, please?”  

Brian pushed
himself up from the table and ran after his brother.