“Well, what about the future, Teagan? What about wanting to go to medical school?”
“Oh Lif, I’m going to do that. Especially since Da said he’d give it some thought. I don’t think he would have told me about the schools taking on women now unless he was going to help me. Eli knows and he understands that this is my dream. I won’t be able to love him if he doesn’t want me to go to school,” said Teagan defiantly.
“Breakfast is ready!” shouted Brogan, as he knocked on their bedroom door as usual.
Then a smaller knock came at the door just as the girls were ready to head downstairs. Teagan opened the door to find Ennis standing in the doorway. His face appeared to be glowing with pride and health.
“Well good morning Ennis!” said Teagan taking a bow.
“I’m here because I would like to escort you both to breakfast this morning,” said Ennis as he bowed in turn and raised both elbows to offer his arms to his sisters.
“Well how gallant of you, Ennis,” said Liffey, taking an arm.
“Ma said I’m growing into a young man now so I should start behaving like one. You’re the only girls I know so I figured I’d practice on you,” Ennis said with a straight back, as Teagan took his other arm.
The girls giggled and were so pleased to see Ennis feeling fit and well. He escorted them both down to the kitchen and stood and waited while they helped Sarah finish with breakfast. Once they were ready, he seated both girls like a true gentleman and of course, said the breakfast grace.
“Dear Our Father, you already know what happened but thank You for Your help. I saw the angel you sent and now I’m all better. Bless our breakfast. Amen.”
Everyone sat stunned, staring at Ennis. It seemed as if the air had been drawn from the room in one deep breath but the exhale wasn’t coming anytime soon. Sarah recalled what he had said to her as she held him in her lap on the ride home from church. She had believed he was dreaming and finally broke the silence.
“Everyone, if Ennis said he saw an angel come to help him then by God he did. What’s the big shock? Don’t any of ya’ have any faith?” she said as she circled the table with her eyes.
“That’s right, Ma! Our Ennis saw an angel and here he is. I believe you Ennis,” said Owen, tossing Ennis’ curls like he did at almost every meal.
All of the other children looked at each other and the normal morning chatter ensued. However, Teagan wasn’t so pleased with Ennis’ revelation and in her mind, had decided she and Ennis should have a chat after the meal was done. She knew she had to finally tell her father everything that had happened but even she didn’t know about the angel. She definitely couldn’t let this go on for one day longer.
Owen thought quietly to himself about angels and other things as he once again tossed those amber curls. His mind wandered all the way to the Atlantic Ocean as he remembered his angel – his mother Rachel.
Chapter Seven
A slim boy with the mop of auburn hair, stood quietly behind a stack of barrels and crates, watching as they were being loaded onto a large ship. The men were grimy and barely had a full set of teeth between them. A portly man wearing a cap, in what looked to be his mid-fifties, stood on the deck giving orders as to where to put the cargo and his voice was louder and clearer than any voice the boy had ever heard in his life.
He’d never been to a city before and had been there less than a day when he overheard some other young men speaking about America and how they were headed there to make their fortunes and have their own land. They were talking of how they’d have to sign on to work for a farmer in a place called Pennsylvania for four years but after that, they would get their own land and could establish their own destinies.
He wanted that.
He was glad he’d run away. He was tired of starving and breaking his back on his uncle’s farm. He knew there had to be a better life and since there was nothing else keeping him there, he’d said goodbye to his brother as he slept and packed a sack filled with a meager bit of bread and fruit and headed out down the road just after dark. He’d managed a ride on a wagon for most of the trip from a farmer headed to Dublin to market with clean potatoes and he’d eaten a few along the way when the man wasn’t looking. All he had to do was help unload the wagon when they reached the dock, which he had eagerly done, as the man saved him at least three days of walking.
“You there! Stop standin’ ‘round and grab that crate!” called the booming voice of the large man on deck.
“Who, me sir?”
“Yes you! Get that crate aboard you worthless little piece of horse shat!” shouted the man, which set the other young men to hysterical laughing but the boy dared not say a word.
He simply shoved his sack of food inside of his shirt and lifted the crate onto his shoulders and carried it up the plank onto the ship and waited there for the man to tell him where to put it.
“Just follow those other boys, you stupid Mick!” the man screeched. The boy had no idea what the man was saying but he followed the other young men down into the belly of the ship with the crate and then continued until all of the crates and barrels were finally loaded into the hull.
On his last trip down, a very dirty young boy whispered to him, “Comin' to America are ya’?”
“I can’t,” the boy replied.
“Why can’t ya’? We’re all goin’,” said the dirty boy, pointing to a group of boys, equally as filthy.
“I don’t have a ticket,” the boy replied, which set off a roar of laughter from the group.
“What’s so bloomin’ funny?” the boy asked as he felt mocked and picked on by the older boys.
“You don’t need a ticket ya’ fool! You just gotta' sign up,” replied one of the other dirty faces in the group.
“Well I didn’t sign up either so I guess I better be getting’ off this ship. It stinks like pig shat anyway and if that was food in them crates, I sure won’t be eatin’ any of it!” exclaimed the feisty auburn haired boy as he turned to climb back to the upper deck.
“Boy! Where do ya’ think you’re goin’ now?” said the large man in the cap, who was now even larger as he stood only a few feet away.
“I didn’t sign up to be on this ship sir so I’m getting’ off. I don’t want to get inta' any trouble!”
“You wanna' go to America or not boy?” asked the man, puffing up his large belly which also seemed to puff up the extra chins around his neck.
“Yes sir, I do!”
“Then get yer arse below the decks with the other passengers and stay there until we make land in America. I’ll get ya’ there boy. You can sign up when we make Philadelphia,” the big man smiled. His black teeth and foul breath were repulsive to the boy who was now having second thoughts and was thinking maybe he could get another ship with a better smelling captain.
Standing on the deck, the boy was able to get a view of the lines of men women and children boarding the ship. Each one of them carrying a sack like he was but some looked sick and thin and without hope. Their faces gaunt and pale and their steps were slow and labored. He wondered if he would end up looking this way by the time he reached America.
Out of sight of the large captain, he hid and wandered about the ship. He peered up between a set of iron steps and there was a deck above him where he heard sounds very unlike the ones below. He heard the laughter of children and ladies talking lightly amongst themselves. He wondered what their accommodations were like but due to their good natured conversation, he could only assume they were much better than his own.
“Them’s the payin’ folk. Hey, what’s yer’ name?” asked the dirty boy from behind him.
“Patrick.” said the boy. “I’m Patrick Flynn.”
“Name’s Sean. Pleased to meet ya’ Patrick. Whatcha' got there in yer shirt?” asked the now introduced dirty boy, who appeared to be taking on a dominant posture which made Patrick very uneasy.
“It’s nothin’. It’s just me extra breeches,” said Patrick backing away from Sean
under the stairs.
“Well if it’s nothin’, then let me see whatcha' got,” taunted Sean, as he reached for Patrick’s shirt and began to tug hard on it, pulling him forward.
“Get off!” Patrick shouted.
“Just give it to me!” said Sean, as he grabbed Patrick around the neck pulling him under his arm.
“Stop that! You stop that this instant!” came a woman’s voice from above on the stairs while stomping her foot.
“You let that boy go or I’ll call the steward!” she called out again.
This time, Sean let go and ran. Patrick held his own and was also able to hold onto his bit of food, although it was slightly crushed.
“Thank ya’ Ma’am,” Patrick said to the lady, who had come half way down the stairs to get a better look at him.
“Come here, child,” she said softly and then held his face at the chin, turning it from side to side.
“What’s yer name boy?”
“Patrick Ma’am. Patrick Flynn.”
“Are ya’ alone Patrick Flynn?” she asked, tilting her head to one side as if to get a better assessment.
“Yes Ma’am. Me parents are both dead. Me uncle can’t keep us all so I’m goin’ to America to make me a new life,” Patrick answered, sticking out his chest.
“Do ya’ have any family in America, Patrick?” she asked, giving him a sideways glance.
“None that I know of Ma’am. I think I’m the first to ever leave Ireland,” he answered and a feeling of loneliness came over him as tear started to well in his eyes.
“Well my goodness you’re a brave boy aren’t ya’?” she said, patting him on the back.
“Not at all Ma’am, but I’m strong and I’m healthier than a lot of these poor folks I seen below in the steerage,” he replied again with a pride in his voice, even as he fought the tears.
Patrick had taken notice of the fact that this was the first real lady he’d ever spoken to. He’d never seen a gown so clean or even a hat such as the one she wore. She had white gloves on her hands and the toes of her shoes peeked out from beneath her skirt and he could see that the leather was fresh and smooth.
“Well Patrick, I have a son too about yer age. Would you like to meet him?” she asked as she put her gloved hand out to him. Patrick was still mostly beneath the steps and still a little shaken by the tussle with Sean but something seemed to push him toward the fine lady. He reached up and took her hand and she led him onto the fresh, clean boards of the upper class deck.
“Won’t I get into trouble Ma’am?” Patrick asked as he nervously glanced over his shoulder as they strolled.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered to him. “I’ll tell them I’m going to hire you when we reach Philadelphia to work in my sister’s home for us and nothing bad will happen.”
Patrick still felt ill at ease but the prospect of spending time with this sweet elegant lady and her son (over what may be awaiting him in steerage) was an effortless decision.
“Owen, I’d like you to meet Patrick,” she said as they met the young boy sitting in a wooden chair at round matching table which was bolted to the boards.
“Hello,” said Owen, without even looking up from his book.
“Hello,” Patrick replied, feeling rather uncomfortable in his ragged clothing and worn through shoes.
“Mother, who is this and why did you bring him up here with you?” Owen asked, finally setting his book on the table and giving his mother his full attention.
“He was bein’ accosted on the deck below and I ran off the little bully who was trying to steal something from him. We’ve been chatting and Patrick has no family in America. We’ll be at sea for quite some time Owen. I thought perhaps you’d enjoy some company.”
“By the way Patrick, what are you so fiercely protectin’ in that shirt of yours?” she asked, leaning in and pulling back the collar of Patrick’s shirt to peek inside.
“It’s nothing Ma’am. Just some food,” he answered staring at his feet.
“Well Patrick, perhaps you didn’t know this, but many ships travelling to America are horrible vessels and some never make it there at all. However, this is one of the better ships as it can accommodate both paying and non-paying passengers. They have plenty of food. I saw them loading it aboard.”
“I know Ma’am. I helped to load the food but it didn’t smell very fine.”
“Well as I said, I’m going to claim you when we reach America and you’ll come to stay with us and that way, you can work to pay for your ticket. Now, let’s not talk any more about this and just get settled in. We are all in for what I’ve heard can be a long and rather uncomfortable journey.”
“What shall I call you Ma’am?”
“Why call me by my name of course dear. Miss Rachel.”
“Miss Rachel, may I ask where Owen’s da is?”
“Owen’s da passed two years ago. It’s just us now,” Rachel said as she sat down in the other wooden chair opposite her son.
“I’d say you’re pretty brave yerself Miss Rachel,” said Patrick as he took a seat on the boards next to her chair and reached into his shirt, pulled out his sack of food, and ripped off a piece of bread.
He was starving already.
After they were settled in America, Owen was given great advantages in his formative years by his mother. Rachel’s husband died when Owen was just ten years old, in an accident at the shipyard where he was employed as a naval architect in Belfast. Rachel had enjoyed very fine living but had no family left in Ireland. Widowed and without the prospect of work, she sold off everything they had to come to America to stay with her elder sister Kathryn Doyle and brother-in-law Dell in Philadelphia. She’d used most of her fortune to educate Owen and purchase a modest but comfortable home there, once living with her sister’s drunkard husband became too much to bear.
Once Owen had completed his medical studies at the University of Pennsylvania, School of Medicine in 1847, he studied internal medicine for three years at the Pennsylvania Hospital. He had immersed himself in his work and enjoyed his position and the ability to take care of his ailing mother, who had been stricken with tuberculosis. Sadly, she had succumbed to the disease after only nine months, most of which she had spent in solitary, with only Owen to comfort her.
Now, Owen’s Aunt Kathryn was his only living relative in America. Her brutish husband had finally drank himself to death on Irish whiskey. Shortly after his mother’s passing in 1848, Owen requested that Kathryn come to live with him in the large but empty home he had purchased. She was to sell her old brick house in Fairhill. His salary had provided him with a very good income and he had sold the modest home he shared with his mother.
Since his aunt’s husband had used up all of their savings, her home and personal belongings were all she had left. With all of the development going on in Fairhill at the time, she was able to fetch a very good price for the home and found great purpose and joy in taking care of her nephew, whom she loved referring to as “My nephew Owen, the young doctor.”
Gradually she started to find her place in society and enjoyed bragging about Owen to her new friends in the social circles of Central Philadelphia. In Owen’s large new home in Center City, Kathryn was alight with life again and proud to have such a lovely residence in which to live out the remainder of her years.
Owen’s Aunt Kathryn began writing to her dear old friend Elizabeth Jameson back in Ireland, who had married well herself to a lawyer from Dublin. They enjoyed a lovely farm of horses in the country nearby and had a spirited daughter of fifteen. Elizabeth wrote often of her daughter’s many accomplishments with her horses and her lovely piano playing. Elizabeth did fret though about someday losing her daughter to a marriage and family of her own. Having never been blessed with children, Kathryn adored receiving those letters and asked Owen if she could host the family in Philadelphia for a bit when they were free of obligations to travel. Owen of course agreed as he missed his mother immensely and enjoyed seeing how his aunt had
blossomed with her new found society ladies and her rekindled friendship from home. He lavished all that could on his aunt as a memorial to his dear Rachel.
Chapter Eight
“Ennis, come with me a minute please?” asked Teagan, as she took him by the hand and lead him out the back door into the yard.
“Where are we going Teagan? Are we going to see the kittens?” he asked with a smile.
“Well, no. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a bit if that’s all right?” Teagan spoke sweetly as not to upset or worry him.
“How far are we going, Teagan? Ma said I could help her make a cake today because she promised me cake last night.”
“I suppose this is far enough,” said Teagan feeling they had reached a safe distance from the house.
“Ennis, remember the other day I told you we shouldn’t say anything to anyone about what happened Saturday?” Teagan said as she sat down in the tall grass next to Ennis.
“You said we shouldn’t talk about it anymore, Teagan.” said Ennis as he sat down next to her.
“I’ve decided I should probably talk to Da about it Ennis but don’t worry, I’m not going to say you did anything I’m just going to tell him what happened,” said Teagan as she patted Ennis on his thigh to reassure him.
“So you’re going to tell Da about the concidance?”
“Coincidence, Ennis, Yes. I’m just going to tell him that.”
“Well okay but I hope he doesn’t get angry,” Ennis said with his bottom lip slightly pushing forward.
“Ennis, have you ever seen Da angry?” asked Teagan with a smile.
“Well no, but we never had so many coincidences before,” Ennis said, proud he had finally gotten the word right.
“Okay. Let’s get back so you can make your cake with Ma and I’ll ask Da if I can speak to him about this after dinner tonight,” Teagan said pushing herself back onto her feet and then grabbing Ennis under his arms and pulling him up as well.
“Now can we go see the kittens?”
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