The Watchman's Grace

by Craig Johnson

  “Take a look there Duncan. Wherever one goes in this land, there is plenty to attest for ongoing misery. Why do we have lingering victims of The Great Famine still escaping here to relive their nightmare? Where is the net to catch those that before calamity gave every waking day to toil, taxes and tithes? With so many options closed to them, the trapdoor is opened for disease, neglect, and deprivation.

  “If they had access to proper education, could that little boy be a future doctor of merit? We will never know without a parliament of our own to govern in a civil fashion. We should have proper standards in place to provide for those who surely contributed in better times. That is the silent tragedy of Ireland today.”

  “Peter, these circumstances chain the very will of our citizenship every waking day. Our greatest export seems to be people that have no chance for survival in their native land. For those that stay, life is a quiet condemnation.

  “Certainly the problems are not just in Ireland. Any proper reading in progressive newspapers will show it. Look at America. As a child, we know no hate of color or creed. And yet…

  “Regardless, I feel I know their secret. Their secret is in the power of division. If they keep the people against each other, worried about scraping together just enough to survive, the powers that be remain entrenched.

  “Yet we do sense the warmth of our mother’s comforts! We must assail the imprisonment of our minds from shackles of those that want us not as allies. They prosper from the disease of mistrust in their oldest of playbooks, divide and conquer. They pacify the intellect of the common people, keeping them beholden to a hard future!”

  Peter took another swig of ale before speaking. “I am in league with you. I will heed your advice about keeping our aspirations in check for the time being. It would be a true waste to squander any good opportunity which prudent calculation could afford us. Everything we have discussed today furnishes our hearts’ ambitions for better times ahead.”

  At this juncture of conversation their server appeared to take orders for food. She looked directly to Peter, ignoring Duncan.

  “I wanted to give you time to talk before coming back. What will it be for you now?”

  “I shall take your suggestion on the pot pie. And you Duncan?”

  “I will have the same,” Duncan muttered in reply.

  “Very well; I shall be back with two pot pies.” With no further ado she went off to the kitchen.

  After she left, the two men continued their discussion on contemporary life in Ireland. Each knew there was much to accomplish, though it would be no easy task to plot a successful course. Later, having consumed decent fair and good drink, it came time to leave the establishment. They settled their bill and left promptly.

  “Thank you Peter for the stimulating conversation. If I had any remaining doubts about our enterprise, they are firmly resolved.

  “Oh yes, here is your new address on this paper, and these are your keys. Your new quarters are fully furnished, with a number of good places to have a meal nearby. Let’s arrange to meet again this coming weekend, say Saturday afternoon right here?”

  Peter nodded in agreement. “That suits me well. Until then Duncan take the best of care.”

  “Good day to you as well Peter; safe home.”

  Duncan and Peter departed their separate ways. Peter felt his pace lighten after the latest conversation with Duncan. He could not put his finger on it, though he knew in the depths of his conscious something fundamental had changed.

  Shoe souls hit the cobblestone in a happy melody as he walked towards new lodgings. Yes, sometimes instinct knows what the mind has yet to figure out. Peter was comfortable with that for now.

  As these invigorated former classmates went on to their next destinations, they began to realize the awesome scope of what lay ahead. Therefore, they could not be faulted for overlooking the rather scruffy man of coarse manners who had sat a couple of seats over from them.

  Yet this man took full notice of Duncan Malloy. He had not put eyes on Malloy for a number of years, though he held a good memory for faces. When Duncan and Peter departed, he smirked to himself, still slurping away over weak soup.

  Meantime, Peter studied the piece of paper Duncan had given him. The instructions to find his new residence were easy enough to decipher. He attentively followed every word as he eagerly paced various streets south of River Liffey.

  Finally, when Peter arrived at his destination, it defied any expectations he may have harbored. This abandoned child from Kilmarnie stood on the doorstep of a handsome Georgian home near St. Stephen’s Green. Peter was immediately taken by the building’s architecture.

  Regaining his composure, Peter checked the address once more to avoid any embarrassing situations. Of course he was at the correct locale. Using his main entrance key, he ascended a solid staircase to the third floor landing. He put the second key into its hole and turned.

  His new flat was decorated in a tasteful, functional fashion. One could tell the appointments were of good grade and well crafted. While not furnished in a high style, Peter would certainly not lack for creature comfort. Tired hands placed heavy luggage on the floor as his weary eyes looked longingly towards a bedroom. After today’s activities he needed a lengthy period of rest.

  Awakening after what seemed a small eternity, Peter put himself upright in the comfortable bed. Moving towards a large window, he peered outside into the morning scene below. His new location was most certainly a stylish district in the capital.

  During the next few days Peter took an opportunity to become familiar with his neighborhood. What a vivid contrast his new surroundings made to Galway or Kilmarnie. A pageant of various individuals performed their daily functions in an unstructured hive of activity. One could sense the quiet ambition which permeated solid middle class conventions.

  Outside, it soon became clear his presence was a curious oddity to many residents. At the extreme, one could spot those who did not condone his appearance in the least. Be that as it may, the vitality of his new surroundings made these issues petty in the grand design of city life.

  During longer strolls, more on the north side of River Liffey, communities consisted primarily of the working class and struggling poor. He marveled at once proud structures in areas like Mountjoy Square, which had transformed in recent times to lesser utility. In some dramatic instances, the end products were tenements of dubious nature.

  Back on his adopted stretch, Peter found Duncan’s words proven correct, with a good array of dining establishments to enjoy a meal. Morally, he felt compromised whenever entering his new address. Of course he was deeply grateful for the generous opportunity afforded by Duncan’s family. Yet whenever he reflected on living conditions for the best majority, these surroundings were clearly at odds with his proposed endeavors.

  Saturday opened with the crisp air of a late November morn, as twinkles of frost danced on gleaming black lampposts. Peter set about his regular chores in preparation for Monday’s start at the Malloy family firm. By the time afternoon came, he was seated across from Duncan with all required errands completed.

  “You look well rested,” Duncan remarked after they ordered their meals. “I trust your new living quarters are up to muster?”

  Peter flashed a knowing smile. “I cannot thank your family enough for the pleasant surprise. By the way, I did notice the flats on those other two floors held no occupants. Am I correct or are they away on business currently?”

  “No Peter, you are spot on. Those flats remain unused for good reason. Father decided to leave the ground floor flat unoccupied while he decides on its future. As for that second floor, he was doing the same until a few days ago. Starting the following week, it will become rented.”

  Peter was now curious to learn more about the new tenant. “Have you made acquaintance with them Duncan?”

  “Yes, as I’ve been on a fami
liar basis with them for quite some time. In fact, we have known each other all our lives. Furthermore, they know you as well Peter.”

  Peter’s interest grew even more. “Do you have a name for this person? And where did I first meet them?”

  “You first met at second session; Queen’s College in Galway if I recall correctly. One weekend in a pub they did not get a chance to talk with you so…”

  Duncan’s delivery was cut short by an excited Peter.

  “Duncan, are you moving into the second floor flat?”

  He beamed at Peter’s animated face. “That person would be me. Besides, it was high time I moved out of the old house, as agreeable a situation it may have been. With all we have ahead of us, such an arrangement seems most practical, don’t you think?”

  Peter was elated by the news. “I think it’s a grand idea! Seems like a continuation of our Queen’s College days.”

  Duncan’s face turned serious at this casual suggestion. “Stakes are higher here than at any college campus. Everything we do now is a platform for achieving higher goals. Not all will be hard work, but we must keep our focus!”

  Ensuing conversation switched to major issues on a countrywide level. They agreed in sum on three key concerns which held the potential for dramatic improvement. These included abject poverty and deprivation of livelihood, access to basic education for all, and a government dedicated to the survival needs of all its citizens.

  These pressing issues in their minds were the root problems of many maladies in Ireland. So they exchanged deep conversation concerning the challenges and opportunities in each area. Fluid discussions continued until late afternoon, when their talks drew to a close.

  “I see we’re making solid headway,” Peter marveled. “In the long run it will prove prudent to allocate our limited resources wisely. Let’s continue to build our platform in an effective manner while dismissing any notions of pell-mell posturing.”

  “Of course Peter. By the way, did you come across an area called Fitzwilliam Square on your recent walkabouts?”

  “I could not forget such a pleasing location! It seems to be a very fashionable part of the city. There were quite a number of splendid Georgian residences throughout that part of Dublin. I suspect that is where polite society makes their lair. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, there is someone I would like you to meet who lives in one of those grand residences; my father Aidan Malloy. He is looking forward to talking with you outside of business in a more social situation. You do remember how to find your way back to Fitzwilliam Square?”

  “I can manage it well enough.”

  “Well then, he has extended an invitation to dine at Goodhope House for six o’clock sharp next Saturday evening. That is, unless you’re entertaining other plans?”

  Peter did not need any prompting. “I accept the invitation with no reservations whatsoever. Will formal dress be required for the occasion?”

  Duncan smirked at the suggestion. “Our family may be blessed with means but we’re not pretentious. Casual attire will be fine. A healthy appetite for good banter and stimulating conversation are all the charms one requires. I will confirm the arrangements with my father. Shall we be off?”

  When both men were safely out of earshot, Duncan expressed his pleasure at Peter’s acceptance of the upcoming dinner invitation.

  “I cannot wait to introduce you to my father. He’s a unique individual that does not believe in the stifling conventions of our day. Aidan believes in the common decency of each individual, and does not adhere to hypocrisy in the slightest!

  “I always remember him telling me as a teenager that it is regressive indeed to look down upon any man, especially when you do not know the circumstances that made them who they are.

  “Even as a youth, he broadened my mind with subjects from the lengthy passage of time. Like indigenous cultures doing advanced mathematics and astrology while Europeans were still living in caves! He said to discriminate based on first appearances was harking back to the basest fears one could harbor. Yes, Aidan will be delighted to engage the intellect of another Irishman of progress such as you.”

  Soon they exchanged farewells, returning to their respective destinations amidst the gentle chill of late fall. Much had been decided about their future, with the thrill of newness stimulating nascent visions.

  Monday morning broke with urgent daylight prodding all the rested to rise. Peter Harvey heeded its call and was soon on his way to the professional offices of his new employer, Malloy’s. Fortune smiled on him once again when Peter realized the location was a scant few blocks from his residence.

  For a relatively small number of employees, Peter was amazed at the large number of holdings overseen from this office. Even the building they worked in was owned by Malloy’s. In only his first day he learned Malloy’s interests went beyond real estate into landholdings, small freight, shipping and foodstuffs. Peter came to realize this was a major enterprise on a country wide scale.

  Peter’s clerical position consisted of learning ledger accounts for the real estate part of Malloy’s. He recorded rental income and expenses while balancing various books attributed to that part of their holdings. Desiring as usual to excel at any task meted out to him, he became proficient before the week was up. His supervisor was notably impressed by his aptitude.

  At the close of his first week at Malloy’s, Peter had not seen Aidan Malloy once on premises. He later learned that Mr. Malloy was an active operator who visited his various interests regularly. It was decidedly a shrewd move from a business standpoint, and very effective from a position of fostering employee goodwill.

  Peter could not believe how quickly the week had passed when he left Malloy’s that Friday afternoon. He had a full weekend ahead of him, with Saturday’s dinner and Sunday moving Duncan into his building. Peter chuckled to himself as he realized how his personal and professional life would be surrounded by Malloys.

  He chose appropriate evening attire to wear for Saturday’s dinner. He was curious to finally meet Duncan’s father, who till now was somewhat of an enigma. In no time he was in Fitzwilliam Square, approaching a grand Georgian home called Goodhope House.

  Peter expected to be answered by a well-trained butler after knocking on the beautifully decorated main door. Instead, it was answered by a fit and agreeable gentleman who wore a disarming smile across his youthful face.

  “Good evening Peter! Welcome to Goodhope House; of course I’m Duncan’s father Aidan Malloy. Please, come inside and let me take your coat.”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Malloy,” Peter responded in kind. Crossing the threshold into Goodhope House, he was immediately transported into a world of Victorian finery. Even the reception hall was decorated in articles of furnishing which hinted at understated good taste. When Mr. Malloy went off to place his coat in the cloak room, Duncan appeared to greet him.

  “Peter, it is so good to have you here tonight. You met father of course.”

  “Yes, he’s putting my coat away at the moment.”

  “Very well; I trust you had no trouble locating our place?”

  “There were no issues whatsoever. What an agreeable evening for a stroll. Late fall always gives my blood a rush with the hint of freshness outside.

  “Mr. Malloy, I must compliment the profile of your residence. Goodhope House commands a striking presence on the square. It possesses the type of architectural detail one would expect to find at London’s best addresses.”

  Aidan Malloy appeared genuinely pleased with the compliment. “Thank you Peter, though please dispense with the formality and call me Aidan. In fact, let’s retire to the main study and enjoy an evening drink before a sumptuous dinner.”

  Peter, Duncan and Mr. Malloy walked into a well-appointed room decorated in plush furnishings. The surrounding walls were adorned with paintings of bucolic scenery and
ancestors of old. The centerpiece was a breathtaking carved mantelpiece which cradled a warming fireplace. Mr. Malloy poured three glasses of drink.

  “I selected a rather fine Scotch for us to enjoy,” announced Aidan Malloy as he presented them with neat glasses of liquor. “Let us have a toast to good health and friendship.”

  Glasses clanged in a customary toast of well wishes. Afterwards, each gentleman sat in comfortable chairs around the ornate fireplace.

  “Well Peter,” Mr. Malloy began. “How are you adjusting to life in Dublin?”

  “Thank you for asking Mr. Malloy, I mean Aidan. As a west counties lad I find it all so fascinating. There is a whirl in the air which is not a feature of the quaint coastal town where I lived my years. One can certainly aspire to greater opportunities here, though there is something to be said for the familiarity of Kilmarnie.”

  “Quite true Peter. I am fortunate enough to travel this country often for business reasons. You definitely noticed my lack of presence at the main office. I apologize for not giving you a personal welcome on your first day at Malloy’s.”

  “Not an issue Aidan. The people there are first rate and of great assistance. I just hope my efforts so far are passing the mark.”

  “From what I can gather you are making a fine impression on your supervisor. Over time I have found that initiative and loyalty are hallmarks for success. If you have both your future will be assured.”

  Duncan came into the conversation at this point. “Father has learned many things in his unconventional career. Over time he will impart more pearls of reflection to you. But in all honestly he has been my best teacher bar none.”

  Aidan raised his glass in Duncan’s direction. “Flattery may not get you everything my son, though it certainly makes the way smoother! So Peter, Duncan tells me you have some deep reflections on life in our fair country. What do you make of Ireland in the year 1862?”

  “Our country on a whole is trying to put behind trying years in the recent past. Though one hopes within a new age of industrial revolution Ireland can aspire to better days ahead.”