Hope from the Ocean: (The Prequel to Fireflies )

by P. S. Bartlett

  “Well, a course I know. What difference will it make, then?”

  “Maybe it will make the difference of a year or more; I haven’t the slightest notion. Why don’t we put this up for a good occasion instead of a bad one?”

  Dan pulled his wife close and held her tighter and longer than he had in many a year. Exactly who was comforting who was irrelevant. He made promises and dedications to her for their future and how if he secured the position with the Jamesons, they may only need to farm enough for their own meals from now on.

  Dan knew Noreen likely felt sad at losing Patrick to the world without having readied him for it, but he felt the boy was readied for the world before he even came into it, and wherever he ended up, no amount of worry was going to soften his journey. Dan finally broke down and told Noreen of the morning he collected Patrick and Dillon, He believed he’d calm her fears when he explained the depths of the strength it must have taken for him to keep them both alive under such horrible circumstances. By reassuring her of Patrick’s good instincts, he comforted himself as well. Together they would tell the other children at breakfast and in time, they would find a way to move on.

  After a long weekend of mourning that culminated on Sunday night with Loch inviting Lucy in for one of his tales of lore, Loch took it upon himself to lighten their hearts with a story of how he believed Patrick’s journey would play out in America. He portrayed Patrick, his self-prescribed adversary of three years, as a hero who set off on an adventurous quest to conquer a new world.

  “Perhaps he’ll be as rich as the President of America and ride in fancy carriages with white horses wearing red plumes upon their heads!” he proclaimed. “Then again, maybe he took him a team a horses out across those open plains we’ve heard about and built him a mansion on a hill.”

  By the time they were nodding off on each other’s shoulders, they were smiling and praying together for his success and glory but their smiles were short lived. Dillon, Rory and Brianne wept into their pillows.

  By sunrise, they were all back at their usual chores, although they went about them with solemn purpose. Dillon barely spoke. He’d been hit the hardest by losing the third direct link to what was once the only family he knew. His quiet grief was overlooked until it was his decision to end his mourning and once again fall in line with the other children.

  * * *

  The following day, Bran took Boney to town to wait for the post. The hope of escaping their current conditions had at least given them something to look forward to. Mr. Jameson had told Dan he did not have time to address each man about his decision directly so he would send out a post on Monday morning special delivery to whomever he chose for the job.

  “No post. No job,” Jameson said frankly but much to Bran’s delight, he hadn’t waited half the day in vain. A rider arrived at the post office carrying only one letter. Bran knew he had to wait for the letter to be accepted and recorded before asking about it but he was pacing back and forth so fast in front of the counter he was making Mr. Laslo, the postman, nervous.

  “Here, boy! Here!” Laslo called out to Bran. “This is for yer Da. Just take it and go!”

  Bran stuffed the letter inside his shirt securely, hopped back on Boney and flew down the road back to his home.

  “Post! I have the post!” cried Bran as he jumped from his saddle and raced into the house.

  “What is it? Who is it from?” Noreen asked, taking the letter from his hand and turning it over. “Go and find yer Da.”

  Bran raced into the barn and found Dan with Dillon, grooming the horses. Upon hearing Bran’s excitement, he slapped the brush into the boy’s hand and raced to the house. His heart pounded and his breath was short but the burning desire to once again be able to provide for his family gave him wings to fly.

  “Noreen, let me see that.”

  “Now Daniel, don’t ye think we should pray over this letter first?”

  “Ye know ye’ve done prayed on this letter since it reached yer hands. Besides, ye know what the letter says. Now let’s just open it and be done with it.” Dan smiled.

  Noreen pulled the letter from behind her back and held it out to him. After a few moments of apprehension, he gazed into her wide green eyes, took it and sat down. Carefully, he broke the seal and folded the thick, crackly paper open, stared at it for a moment and then handed it back to his wife.

  “What is it? What’s…” Noreen’s eyes flashed open and the letter fluttered to the floor.

  “I suppose ye’ll be on yer own quite a bit, love, but perhaps my absence will make my presence all the more desired.”

  Noreen pulled Dan from the chair and scooped him into a joyful dance. “When do ye start?” she asked as he spun her around.

  “I thought ye read the letter?” he laughed, and spun her again.

  “Woo! That’s enough spinnin’ fer me!” she giggled, grabbing him around the waist.

  “Alright, alright, have a seat, wife. I’m to travel first with Mister Jameson on Friday, returnin’ on Sunday but my wages start on Friday mornin’ when I meet him at his home in Kineagh.”

  “Oh Dan, I’m giddy. We’ll get over the missin’ ye like ye said and now that ye’ll have a good salary comin’ in we can put the kids in school at last.”

  “I thought ye enjoyed teachin’ them?”

  “Oh, I do, but it’s been many a year since I set foot in a class and the world is gettin’ bigger by the day. They should learn more than what I can teach ’em. I think they need to get out around other children more as well, and out of the fields.”

  “Well, we’re on ta the next, aren’t we, Mrs. Flynn?” Dan smiled, placing a peck on Noreen’s cheek.

  “That we are, dear. Now call the children in and make them a happy lot,” she cried, pushing herself to her feet to start dinner.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dan Flynn and William Jameson headed out early on Friday morning to buy the horses. William introduced Dan to his wife and more importantly his soon-to-be-pupil, Sarah. He gave Dan a tour of his estate and showed him the loft above the stables where he would lodge during the week. Dan was satisfied with the accommodations and was a bit surprised at how neatly they’d set him up. The settle bed appeared to have never been slept in, and there was a lovely chest set open with an extra blanket, bathing and shaving supplies and a bedside table, complete with a lantern and several books. He assumed the books had been placed there by Sarah, as they were children’s books about horses. Dan picked one up and turned it over.

  “Do ye like those books sir?” asked Sarah, as she knocked on the open door of the loft.

  Dan was a bit startled and turned with a jerk to find the young Miss Jameson standing in the doorway. She laughed and said, “I’m sorry Sir. I didn’t mean to scare ye.”

  “Why hello there Miss,” Dan said in surprise. “Aye…indeed. These are some fine horse books. Are they yers?”

  “Aye sir. My Da brought them from Dublin for me this past Christmas. I’ve read them all front ta back and back ta front. Well, not really I suppose…” She giggled. “but I know all there is ta know about horses.”

  “Well I surely hope not everythin’ Miss or yer Da may be disappointed in hirin’ me.” Dan smiled and sat the book back on the table.

  “I have more if ye’d like to see them when yer through with those?”

  “That’d be very nice. Thank ye Miss Jameson.”

  “Well, I best be going. Supper’s at six o’clock. Don’t be late!” She giggled again, waved and curtseyed, and then quickly hopped off down the steps.

  Dan found Sarah to be a lively girl and perhaps a bit forward but not in the way most young girls from money were. Dan attributed her earthy temperament to her country upbringing, believing her connected to the world and not completely affected by her parents’ wealth. He was impressed with her vast knowledge of horses and he hoped this arrangement would be his last.

  * * *

  As the years passed, through tumbles and bruises and hours
of work, Sarah was not only becoming an expert rider but a lovely young woman as well. At only thirteen, she was assertive and firm with her horses, yet maintained her femininity and still enjoyed many of the usual attractions of young ladies of her day but certainly not all of them.

  “Mister Dan, may I ask how yer family are doin’’?” Sarah inquired as she led her favorite horse out into the courtyard for a ride.

  “Why, thank ye fer askin’, Miss Jameson. They are all in fine health, I’m pleased to say,” Dan answered, double-checking her saddle and securing the billets.

  “I wish someday ye could bring them all here for a visit but I’m sure they’ve much more important things to do.” Sarah walked the horse in wide circles as she spoke, glancing at the grass.

  “I’m sure that ye are the one with more important engagements, Miss Jameson. Isn’t there an affair this weekend? I seem to remember yer Da mentionin’ it,” Dan remarked while giving her a leg up.

  “Oh, I hate havin’ to wear these ridiculous clothes!” she mumbled and tried to arrange her billowing riding skirt.

  “Here’s yer crop, Miss Sarah. As I always tell ya, watch him on the third jump because he gets a bit lazy.”

  “I know, but I’m not up to jumpin’ today. We’re just goin’ for the fresh air and aye, ye’re right. There is a party this weekend. Is it peculiar that I’m not at ease with girls me own age? I think they’re all silly eejits and put on too many airs.” She sat on the horse with her head cocked to one side and looking as if she’d smelled something dead. Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Oh, Mister Dan, it isn’t funny at all. If ye’d see those giddy snits.” She laughed so loud and hard her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry, ye must think me a spoiled, silly girl.”

  “Not at all, young one. Ye often remind me of me own girls but I think bein’ on yer own and spendin’ all yer time with grown people has given ye more sense than all of those giddy snits rolled together.”

  * * *

  Dan had proven to be a loyal and invaluable employee to the Jamesons and they often rewarded him with gifts and accolades. Early on in his employment, he started to confide in William more as a friend than an employer. William had even insisted they address each other by their first names, regardless of how Dan resisted. When the famine hit in 1845, his family was well provided for and his income never diminished—nor did Loch’s. He had been promoted to head groundskeeper at the Curragh track which allowed him to finally ask for Lucy’s hand. Due to the eldest family men being so fortunate as to have steady employment, the Flynn’s once again had far more than they needed.

  “Dan, take all the time ye need to prepare for yer son’s weddin’,” William said on the Thursday before Loch and Lucy’s Saturday nuptials.

  “Thank ye William. The young man has worked hard to provide for the young lady, and he’s waited quite a while fer this day. I don’t believe I’ll be away on Monday—tomorrow should suffice.”

  “Well give them our blessin’ and here’s a little somethin’ fer the happy couple.”

  William handed Dan an envelope that he assumed contained a fair amount of money.

  “Ye need not do this Will. Ye’ve been more than kind ta me o’er these years and the lad…”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it. Besides it’s not fer ye to say now is it?” William said with a raised brow.

  “I suppose it isn’t. Thank ye again. I’ll be on me way home now and will see ye bright and early on Monday.”

  William was fully aware of Loch and Lucy’s crusade to assist local families who’d been hit hard by the famine. Once Dan realized what William was doing, he stuffed the envelope in his coat pocket and headed home.

  * * *

  Dan arrived back at work on Monday morning and went about his usual routine. Sarah dashed to the stables immediately after breakfast, excited to hear any details of the wedding that Dan would share.

  “What was her gown like? Was there lace and satin ribbon? Did it have a train?”

  “Miss Sarah, now ye know I wouldn’t know lace from wool…well, maybe lace from wool but I certainly couldn’t describe a ladies gown.” Dan laughed as he secured her saddle.

  “Well, I’m certain she was just lovely,” Sarah stated with a sigh and plopped down on a bale of hay.

  “Aye, indeed she was nearly as lovely as me own Noreen.”

  “Well, if anythin’ comes ta mind while I’m gone, ye’ll be sure ta fill me in?”

  “As soon as ye return love.” Dan smiled, walking Rascal out into the courtyard. “Lessons today?”

  Sarah rolled her eyes at him and flicked her crop, sending Rascal racing off towards the hills.

  “Guess not then,” Dan said to himself and then returned to the stables to tend to the other horses.

  As Sarah grew, his duties waned. She never let on that she no longer required his services as a teacher to her parents but Dan believed there was an understanding between them all and although he was getting on in age, being at the Jameson’s estate was as close to being at home as he could ever be. They treated him like their own brother and uncle and he’d long since taken his meals at their fine dinner table. If all he did for the remainder of his time there was care for the horses, he was content with that.

  The day Sarah turned fifteen, she returned from her ride and Dan was lying back on a bale of hay with a handful of freshly pulled and washed carrots for Rascal.

  “Hey ye lazy man! What are ye doin’ there? Don’t ye remember what today is? Now go get yerself cleaned up. We’ve a party to get ready fer!”

  Dan sat up too quickly and lost his breath. He leaned forward coughing hard and Sarah vaulted from Rascal’s saddle and rushed to his side.

  “I’m so sorry Mister Dan. I didn’t mean to startle ye,” she said, her voice trembling. “Should I get me Ma?”

  “No, no I’ll be fine in a moment love,” Dan murmured, barely able to draw breath.

  “Don’t be hard headed. I’m goin’ ta get her now.”

  Dan reached out and snatched Sarah’s hand and begged her, “Please Las, can ye just get me some water? I promise, I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, if ye say so,” she answered, patting his hand to let go.

  Sarah rushed to him with a cup of water and placed it in his hand. The coughing had mostly stopped but he was still breathing very shallow and his eyes watered down his cheeks.

  “Ye know Las, when me children were small, I worked at the race track and I barely saw them except for in the evenings. Their mother would a course dole out the punishments as well as the rewards but the best part of me day was after supper when we’d all sit around together and listen to me eldest son tell his stories.”

  “That sounds lovely. What kinds of stories?”

  “Oh, all sorts. He never let on what a good student he was and how much he enjoyed readin’. We had no idea what went on inside that head a his. Like the time me nephew Dillon got so riled up over one of Loch’s stories, we thought he’d faint from the thrill of it.” Dan smiled and wiped the water from his eyes.

  “It must be grand ta have such a big family.”

  “Aye grand indeed love. It’s not easy when ye lose one though.”

  “Ye never mentioned losing a child before.”

  “Aye well he was my nephew. He ran off one day…but let’s not speak a sad things.”

  “Are ye feelin’ better now?” Sarah asked, taking the cup from his hand and refilling it.

  “See? I told ye it would pass—always does.” Dan smiled and stood, handing Sarah the carrots for rascal. “Poor Rascal’s probably thinkin’ ye don’t like him anymore, makin’ him wait so long fer his treat.”

  “Pshh! He’s a hog anyway.”

  “Now Miss Sarah, don’t ye be speakin’ that way. That’s not very lady like ye know?”

  “It’s just between us…all of this,” she whispered and winked, and then walked back out of the stable to collect Rascal.

  * * *

  Dan climbed the st
airs to the loft to get ready for Sarah’s birthday dinner and reflected on the fact that he’d lived the past seven years as if Patrick had just set off on a grand adventure and would someday return full of fantastic tales—as if he’d never left things as he did. He was surprised at himself for mentioning Patrick to Sarah at all but brushed it away as he normally did when the whole episode came to mind. Dan thought of how his own children had all grown and moved into their own lives except for Dillon and Rory, who still lived at home with Noreen and took care of the farm. Once he’d finished washing up and reminiscing, he made his way to the house and through the kitchen door to Sarah’s celebration, leaving it all in the loft with the rest of his thoughts.

  * * *

  Dan headed home on Friday for his usual weekend with Noreen and often found himself of late spending hours in his Bible doing what he called “preparing for his own judgment day.” Despite never having picked up that long-ago stuffed pipe Noreen tucked away, his cough had grown increasingly worse until one morning during one of his coughing fits he spat red but did not divulge that information to anyone but God in his nightly prayers. He believed he’d been living for years on borrowed time and the day to return it was growing close.

  “Oh Father, the damage is done. All I ask is a little more time with Noreen. She’s always wanted to go to Dublin and although I have no thought as ta why, I’d be truly thankful if ye’ve leave me here long enough to take her. I feel ye callin’ me name, so I’ll get her there this weekend when I go home and then I’m yers to do with as ye will.”

  * * *

  Upon his return home late on Friday evenings, Noreen would keep Dan up past midnight, praising Dillon and remarking on what a wonderful influence he was on Rory. She assured him he needn’t ever worry that the rambunctious youth would find himself in any trouble as long as Dillon was around.

  At dinner on Friday evening, Dillon expressed interest in working at the Curragh track. Dan decided he would not resist it. There was a very good living in it. Although Dillon was only eighteen, Dan was surprised he hadn’t yet set his hat at any of the young ladies in town but understood his dedication to the family and his sense of responsibility to Noreen. He had matured into a tall, handsome lad and stood a giant next to the puny child found sitting at the roadside many years before.