Breakfast had been fresh biscuits, eggs and bacon and the house still held the scrumptious aroma, which seemed to make the meal last so much longer than the few minutes required for those seven hungry bellies to fill. Teagan stood in the kitchen washing dish after dish, watching out the window. She smiled as she listened to her ma and Liffey, cheerfully singing hymns as they worked in the fresh, crisp morning air. Owen had long since headed to town to open his medical office, bringing Connell along with him as he had done a few times a week for months now. Patrick and Brogan tended the chickens and hogs while Fagan fed and groomed Molly and Jack, two of their three horses before heading off to work himself. Owen and Connell used Joe, the largest of the three, to pull the carriage to town.
Teagan's mind wandered, daydreaming of taking the journey with Owen to tend to the sick, bring new babies into the world or simply bandaging the knee of a stumbled child. Next, her thoughts turned to running through the East Meadow, hopping the fence and finding Eli to share the good news of her father’s agreement to give thought to her someday becoming a doctor. Her daydreams halted abruptly when a sharp pain pierced her right hand.
“Ouch!” she cried as she pulled her hands from the water. Her right palm bore a gash at least two inches long and deep enough to reveal the pink muscle and tendon beneath her skin.
“Oh no!” she shouted, as she snatched a dishcloth from the shelf near the basin and wrapped it tightly around the wound.
“Teagan! You have blood on Ma's apron!” chided the little voice from the doorway of the kitchen.
Ennis stood before her, wide eyed either with fear or surprise.
“I've cut myself Ennis. Run and get Ma. She'll know what to do.”
Teagan rushed toward Ennis, as he stood frozen in the doorway.
“Ennis! Listen to me! Go get Ma! Please now, hurry!”
“Wait.”
Ennis reached out and placed his small, dirty hands over the bloody cloth and began to unwrap it carefully, exposing the trembling palm of her hand. Teagan stood still in the moment between terror and amazement at Ennis' gentle touch and a warm calm moved from her hands up into her forearms and continued upwards until she felt light-headed.
Teagan’s knees began to weaken, soon followed by the full length of her legs. Not knowing how much blood she was losing or the amount of blood loss necessary to actually die, she swore this wasn't enough but she believed regardless of logic and fact that death was upon her, when everything went black and her body slipped to the floor.
It seemed hours had passed when Teagan awoke, lying face down clutching the bloody dishcloth. She blinked open her eyes and raised her head to find Ennis, sitting next to her, expressionless.
“Ennis, did I die?”
“No Teagan, you lived,” Ennis smiled.
Teagan pushed herself up facing Ennis and the room began to come back into focus. She yet heard the soft singing outside and the aroma of the eggs and bacon from breakfast still hung in the air, although now slightly tainted with the scent of iron. Her eyes travelled down over the bloodied apron, still draped over her clothes. The sight startled her to her feet and as she stood, she pulled the dishcloth up to her face, still saturated with her blood. She stared in horror at the trail of red droplets leading from the dish basin to the doorway of the kitchen, which had begun to thicken and dry.
There was no pain. There was no cut.
“See? You're not dead, Teagan,” Ennis giggled.
In her panic, Teagan gave no thought to whatever made her begin a feverish clean-up of the bloody mess. She pushed a mop into Ennis' hands dripping with soapy water, dumped the soiled dish water out the back door, ran to the well and almost in a state of hysteria, refilled the basin and scrubbed the dish towel and apron until there was only the slightest hint of pink. Once she was certain the job was done, she dragged Ennis by the arm, ran the wet wads of cloth out to her mother, and dumped them into the wringer washer.
“Ma, you forgot these,” she said, continuing to drag Ennis along, the boy squealing with giggles toward the East Meadow.
“Teagan! Where are ya' goin'?” Sarah shouted after her.
“Eli's Ma!”
Sarah stood with her hands squarely on her hips. She pressed her lips tightly together for a moment and asked Liffey, “Since when does your sister drag Ennis with her to Eli's?”
Liffey turned at the waist, placing a hand above her brow to block the morning sun as her brother and sister faded into the field.
“Never, Ma. Never.”
The two women went back to work. Sarah occasionally glanced eastward, still bewildered at her daughter's behavior. Not that dashing off after breakfast was uncommon for Teagan, but she'd get to the bottom of why Ennis was along for the trip today.
“Eli!” Teagan called when they reached the fence dividing the Whelans’ property in the east from the Morgans.’ Teagan climbed up and over the paling, pouncing to the ground, still calling out for Eli, who was typically on his way to the borderline right after breakfast himself for the same reason. Ennis crawled beneath the lower rail and tried his best to keep up with Teagan as she raced into the Morgans’ pasture and up the hill headed toward the house.
Ennis stopped, almost out of breath and called out to Teagan, “There! Over there!” while pointing in the direction of an old wagon beside the barn. Eli was perched on the back of the wagon holding a fluffy gray kitten in his hands, petting it softly.
“Eli! Why weren't you at the fence?” Teagan shouted, trotting towards him.
“Hello Teagan, Ennis,” he replied still stroking the soft gray ball of fur. “I must have lost track of the time. I wanted to check on the kittens this morning after breakfast and I couldn’t bring myself to leave this one,” he chuckled. “Pretty silly, huh? What's Ennis doing here?” he asked, with suspicion, since Teagan never brings Ennis anywhere, let alone to visit him.
“How's Willie? Is he still sick?” Teagan inquired, now stroking the kitten as well.
“He coughed all night. My Ma's worried sick.”
“I'm sure he'll be fine, Eli. Try not to worry. My da said this influenza is a bad one but he is a great doctor,” Teagan replied then gave a heavy sigh to get Eli’s undivided attention. “I have a big problem, Eli. I need your help. How many kittens do you have?”
“Five. Why?” Eli raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Ennis, would you like to see the kittens?” asked Teagan, in her sweetest big sister voice.
“Oh would I!”
“Show him the kittens, Eli,” Teagan ordered, giving him a sideways look.
“Uh, they're in the barn, Ennis. Here, take this one back to the box to their ma for me will ya?” he said, gently handing Ennis the kitten and showing him how to hold it properly.
“Now be careful Ennis. Be very careful 'cause their ma can get pretty mean if you don't. See?' said Eli, sliding up his sleeve to expose a long cat scratch on his forearm.
“Oh I'll be extra careful.”
Ennis cuddled the kitten in his arms and headed through the big red and white barn doors.
“What's all this about, Teagan?” Eli demanded as he flopped back onto the flatbed of the old wagon.
Teagan swallowed hard, “Eli, I need help. Yesterday, there was this bird and today, I cut my hand and...”
“Hold on Teagan. Slow down. What bird? I don't see any cut,” Eli interrupted, taking Teagan's hands in his and turning them over.
Teagan jerked back her hands and looked at them again, barely able to remember which one she had injured and then shoved her right hand forward.
“This one Eli. I was washing the breakfast plates and I didn't notice the knife in the water and I cut it. I cut it bad. The water filled with blood. I bound the wound with Ma's dish cloth and then Ennis appeared again.”
“But there's no cut or blood or nothing Teag. You must have dreamed it all,” Eli said, folding his arms and shaking his head, trying to make sense of her story.
“Eli I swear it. I swear
it on the Bible. Ennis touched my hand and when I woke up...”
“Whattaya' mean when you woke up? See? You did dream it after all, Teag.”
“No! Listen please!' she pleaded. “Ennis saw me with the towel and the blood and he touched my hand and the next thing I knew, I thought I was dying or, or, or dead but I woke up and I was, I was healed, Eli,” she spoke slowly, in a terrified whisper.
“Are you saying Ennis healed your hand?” asked Eli. He jumped from the wagon and faced Teagan down, his arms still folded at his chest.
“Well yes, Eli, I suppose that is exactly what I'm saying,” said Teagan, as she folded her arms tightly across her chest in turn.
“This is just too far-fetched to ever be true. What about the bird then?” asked Eli, settling back into his seat on the wagon.
“Yesterday, I was out by the barn and I looked down and there lay a bird. I leaned down and poked the poor creature once or twice. It looked dead to me so I went into the barn to get a shovel. While I was inside, I heard Ennis saying goodbye to the bird and when I came out, it was gone. He said it wasn't dead, that it was sick and it flew away. Now, how are you going to find reason in this, Eli?” Teagan ranted with her hands on her hips, never stopping to draw breath.
”Maybe it was just resting?” Eli replied with a shrug, leaning back waiting for a swat from Teagan.
“If you're only gonna’ poke fun at me, at least help me figure out a way to prevent Ennis from telling anyone about the cut and the blood because that is a story any six-year-old boy does not know how to keep off of the supper table.”
Teagan approached her wits’ end with Eli but since he was her best friend and confidante, she had no other choice than to beg for his help and to trust him.
After a few minutes of silence, Eli hopped from the flat bed.
“I've got it!”
“What?” Teagan beamed.
“I'll tell Ennis he can pick one of the kittens if he promises not to say anything,” Eli answered with esteem.
Teagan paced and scratched her head. “It could work. Okay, I'll go get him. Wait right here,” and she rushed into the barn to retrieve Ennis.
He sat calmly on the floor, gently reaching into the box of furry creatures, stroking one sweet little head after the next as they meowed and tumbled over each other. The mother cat lay calm and purring as Ennis occasionally gave her a pet as well. One of the kittens nursed loudly as Teagan stepped up behind Ennis and quietly asked, “Would you like to have a kitten Ennis?”
“Shhhh!” Ennis said, placing a small finger to his lips. “Be quiet.”
“Ennis?” she whispered. “Well would you?”
“Wouldn't that make the momma sad?” he asked, never taking his eyes off of the box.
“Well, not today Ennis, in a few weeks. The momma won't be sad at all. She knows you now and she likes you. I'm sure she'd be happy if you took one of them and cared for it,” Teagan replied, crouching down next to Ennis and stroking a sweet white kitten with large gray spots.
“Well,” Ennis paused, “If you think the momma will be happy if I take one, I really like this gray and white one a lot and I think he likes me, too,” Ennis finished, turning to look over at Teagan.
“Eli already said it was all right, so when they are ready to wean, that means when they no longer need their momma, we'll come and get him, okay?” Teagan said, now stroking Ennis' soft curls.
Teagan took Ennis by the hand and helped him to his feet. She led him out of the barn and told Eli that Ennis had accepted his offering of the kitten and they'd talk about the rest on the way home.
Eli was still extremely confused but she knew his lips were sealed with the promise not to ever mention any of this to anyone. Deep down, he hoped all of this was but a dream and tomorrow after church, they could simply go fishing.
“Why aren't we running?” asked Ennis as he and Teagan leisurely made their way across the pasture, back to their home.
“I'm tired Ennis. I also want to talk to you about this morning.”
Ennis grew quiet and kept walking at a steady pace.
“Ennis, I don't think we should tell anyone about what happened,” Teagan said with great conviction. “I don't want anyone else to know but us.”
“And Eli?”
“What?” Teagan stopped and glared at him.
“I heard you telling Eli I fixed your hand but I didn't. I don't know how to fix things like that. I swear it wasn't me. I didn't do it!”
“Well no matter what it was or whatever fixed it, I don't think we should ever talk about it again, all right?” Teagan pleaded.
“Can I still have the kitten?” Ennis sniffled through his tears.
“Of course you can have the kitten – but only if you never speak of this morning again, okay?”
“All right,” Ennis sniveled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
Soon the house was in view and the sun was perched high in the sky overhead. Teagan had taken Ennis' hand at some point during their trek and their locked hands swung back and forth together as they walked. Ennis sang a song to Teagan about how Jesus loves the little children. She thought to herself, what a beautiful voice for a small boy, and had suggested to him to ask to join the church choir. By the time they reached the back porch of the house, the events of the morning sat so far behind them, even Teagan had ceased thinking about them until Sarah met her at the threshold.
“Teagan wait outside. Ennis, go wash up for lunch,” Sarah stated as she held the kitchen door ajar for Ennis to pass and then let it go with a bang. She dried her damp hands on her apron and pointed to the spot where Teagan should stand and listen.
“Where did you take Ennis this morning?” she asked firmly.
“Only to Eli's, Ma,” Teagan responded, knowing all too well when her mother was angry, that she only cared for the facts and no embellishments.
“Why?” Sarah said, drawing out the word like a sword from a sheath.
“Eli's cat had kittens. I wanted to take Ennis to visit them. Eli told Ennis he could have one, when they're ready of course and if it's agreeable to you, Ma.” Teagan's delivery was flawless and she didn't even bear a hint of fear. After all, most of the story was true.
“A kitten, Teagan?” Sarah relaxed. Her shoulders fell forward slightly and her long since dried hands finally stopped twisting in her apron.
“Yes, Ma. It's so pretty. It's gray and white and fluffy and sweet and no fleas or anything,” Teagan replied, like a soldier at ease.
“Well, it may help with the mice around the barn. I suppose a kitten will be fine but next time, you will ask me before running off like that!”
Sarah gave Teagan one last long look and turned to walk inside but not before saying, “The next time ya' spill something on me apron and try ta’ clean it up with a dish towel, tell me before you toss it into the washer so I can put extra soap on it. I'll never get those preserves out of them now!”
Teagan could only nod her head in agreement and wait for her mother to enter the house before drawing a breath. She sluggishly sat down on the top step of the porch and the waves of fear she had managed to hold back during their confrontation began crashing over the walls of her resolve. She didn't cry but she wanted to. She had never been able to keep anything from her mother for any length of time. Once her hands stopped trembling and her breathing had returned to normal, she heard Liffey's voice through the screen door.
“Teagan, come in and eat your lunch.”
“I'll be right there,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful.
The noon meal turned into supper and supper into a full moon and the house fell quiet but for Sarah's humming as she sat by a dim lamp sewing white lace onto a pale blue dress. After looking so hard at Teagan that afternoon, Sarah realized her youngest daughter was almost a woman and it was time for her to start behaving like one. The thought had somehow escaped Sarah; how Teagan had filled out all over and yet she still ran around in her brothers’ clothes, using the excuse she didn
't want to soil her dresses doing chores. The chores Teagan preferred, however, were those which were picked out for her brothers. Teagan would do any chore her mother asked, but she preferred duties which didn't involve what she called 'women's work.' Sarah couldn't deny the fact Teagan was nearly a reproduction of herself, but it didn't make being her mother any easier.
Chapter Three
When she was tired or alone, Sarah's mind often drifted to the days of her youth in Ireland. As she worked the needle and thread through the lace of Teagan's new dress, she recalled one summer day of her fifteenth year, as she dressed in her room overlooking the stable. She spied a thick, strong back with burly arms, pulling on the reigns of her black stallion, dragging him out of the barn to be groomed.
“Come on ya' daft mule!” he shouted, as he pulled at the horse in futility.
Sarah was livid. She threw open the curtains and called out, “You there! Dontcha’ be callin' me horse stupid! Maybe you're the one without a brain in yer head!”
“Sorry Ma'am but he seems a bit stubborn,” the young man replied, flush with embarrassment, as Sarah stood in the window in only her under-dress, her long black curls dancing in the breeze.
“Take him easy. He doesn't like being yanked about like that!” Sarah ordered. “And talk nicely to him too! Where's old Dan?” Sarah asked after the stableman she'd known for most of her young life.
“What's his name Ma'am if ya don't mind me askin'? Oh and me poor uncle has fallen ill so I was told to show up this mornin' for work and here I am,” the husky man replied, trying his best not to look up at the charming young woman, shouting from above him.
“It's Rascal,” she said, calm at last.
“Sarah Jameson!” boomed her mother's voice from behind her. “Get away from that window this instant!”
Sarah gasped, remembering she hadn't yet dressed and slapped the curtains back into place. She spun around, to witness the horror on her mother's face and ran to her bed, snatching her riding habit and covering herself.
Fireflies Page 2