Tag: family

Prairie Roots

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excerpt

…after chores and supper, for a few hours of fun. When
the moon illuminated the snow on crisp, clear nights we would
run and play and wrestle on the snow banks, or in the straw piles
created by the threshing crew. After getting our fill of the night
air it would be time to thaw out with hot chocolate and finish the
evening off with a game of cards. And then the walk home to be
in by ten o’clock and to bed.
This too was an experience in the winter. After our second
house was built our bedroom was the attic itself, unheated except
for whatever warmth found its way up the narrow stairway. So
the first one in warmed up the bed and resisted sharing the heat
with whoever was to share that bed.We slept in pairs, compatibility
being established by various methods including by dictates
from the parents—when all else failed. And it failed often. Scraps
broke out on minimum provocation and disagreements could last
an hour, a day or weeks.
Piling into a cold bed with a brother who was after your hide was
risky business. You were as likely as not welcomed by a smelly fart
which stopped you from getting your face under the covers to take
advantage of body heat. Instead it was necessary to tuck the feather
tick tightly under the chin to prevent any vapours from escaping
upward, at the same time to gently lift the edge of the tick with a
foot to provide an outlet for the smell. And no touching or bedlam
would break loose and one or the other would be downstairs pleading
his case in long johns before the court of last resort, mother, to
be specific.Mother’s justice was gentle enough and, by comparison
with Pop’s justice, downright benevolent. Pop would resolve our
disagreements by following a policy of no-fault resolution or, to put
it more accurately, all fault resolution whereby we were all equally
guilty and therefore all received equal punishment. It worked. We
usually went to mother to be the mediator. At least with her we
were given a chance to develop our case.
There were many things one could not do in our attic bedroom.
One could not take a glass of water up to the bedside; it froze by
morning.One could not kick off the covers; one froze by morning.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562900

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897920

In Turbulent Times

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‘So there you have it, Michael. A rather sad or maybe a tragic story. I’ve had lovers myself, but nothing serious. And I’ve always insisted on Durex. I was caught once before and I was determined not to get caught again. I thought I was safe with you. I wanted sex with a man without a condom for a change. You don’t mind me saying that, do you?’ She smiled. ‘You let me down, but I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. I’m actually enjoying being pregnant again.’ She squeezed his hand and reclined again in the armchair.
‘You’ve had a baby then?’
‘When I was sixteen. Much too young to be a mother. So I gave it up for adoption.’
‘So no children with Robert.’
‘No, and none likely. The father of my first baby was an eighteen-year-old boy. He’s a fisherman in Lisnaglass now. Married and has four sons.’ Connie looked at Michael again. ‘Poor Michael. I think you would have liked to have had four sons yourself.’
‘I’d have been happy with one,’ Michael said, then paused in silent reflection of the fickle trickery of nature. He took his first drink, then, returning Connie’s look, he asked, ‘What will Robert say or do when he finds out you’re pregnant?’
‘Probably nothing. I am nothing to Robert now. The sad thing is that I love him. I truly love him.’ Her voice faltered, and she let her head fall back on the chair again, her eyes closed. ‘But I think it’s only a matter of time before there’s talk of divorce.’
‘Did Frank and Kathleen have any children?’
‘A son. Five years old now. Little Bobbie. Robert is very fond of him. Spoils him really.’
‘Will you tell Robert that I am the father of your baby?’ The question secretly thrilled Michael. He was going to be a father. He was not a sterile mule after all. He was a whole man. Able to father children. And Nora. The chances were that Nora really was his daughter. Not Padraig’s. Praise be to God, he thought. What a happy, happy day. He drank with a greater feeling of elation than he had ever experienced. He felt like getting drunk, but his glass was empty and he wasn’t bold enough to ask for a refill.
‘No, I won’t tell Robert that you are the father of my baby,’ Connie was saying. ‘No need to. He thinks you’re sterile, remember. There’s a man I see in Belfast. Robert will think the baby is his, and I won’t tell him otherwise. Least said, soonest mended, Michael. Don’t worry. He won’t be challenging…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562904

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763270

Straits and Turns

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His voice was clear and stern. She knew that his argument was
probably right, but the convenience of the ready-made food was hard
to replace.
They decided to follow the first vet’s advice: put their pet on a
daily medication and pray for the best. They started Elvis on his daily
regimen, just like himself being on a daily dose of pills since his heart
attack almost twenty years earlier, when one of his coronaries was
occluded. However, he was lucky it was only one coronary, and he’s
still around to tell the story. The beautiful animal got used to his medication
to the point that every time after lunch he would say “Elvis,
time for your medication” The little dog stood ready to be picked up
by mom, to be taken close to the kitchen counter close to dad who was
holding the tube with the daily dose of medication in his fingers and
when he touched the side of his pet’s mouth and said, “your mouth”
Elvis half opened his mouth to take the little squirt of medication
which was followed by his treat.
Days went by, months, a year, and almost a second year. They
realized that their decision not to put their pet on chemo was the
best one. And their Elvis gave them many days of laughter, against all
odds and the doctors’ prognostications. Until two weeks before the
second anniversary of the prognosis, while petting him, he noticed
the dog was tender on his right hind leg over the area of his surgery
years ago.
He mentioned it to his wife. Concern spread in her eyes. They
promised to keep an eye on him. Two days went by. The situation
worsened. They called the vet, who suggested that perhaps the cancer
metastasized from his bladder to his bones, as it was statistically the
case in most of these dogs. They searched online, and they froze when
they realized cancer metastasizes to the animal’s pelvis 90 % of the
time. His pelvis was his weak point. True enough, as the days passed,
Elvis worsened. He couldn’t go up and down the stairs anymore. She
carried him up and down and outside to pee, and to his plate to eat,
until the last day when he didn’t touch his food and stayed on his blanket
all day. They exchanged glances numerous times. It was time.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4250839#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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Rordan waited for an answer but none came. Ula merely smiled to see his thumb
caress the top of her hand.
Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Rordan withdrew his hand.
“My problem was with my father,” Rordan said. “He used to get the local bullies
after me just to toughen me up. Then when I wouldn’t fight with them, he’d beat me
with a cudgel. I finally ran away and travelled with a surgeon to the south of France.
I learned a lot from the Saracen doctors in Córdoba but I refused to become a Mohommedan
and had to leave Spain or be made a slave. The only way I could return
to Éirinn was to travel with soldiers, so the very life I wished to avoid was forced on
me. Still, like you, I survived.”
It was through singing that they came to a mutual understanding and respect. Ula
had a beautiful voice and their harmonies echoed through the wooded hills. Sometimes
they made up songs where Rordan would sing the first part and Ula would
complete the phrase:
Thank you birds … for your beautiful songs
Thank you sun … for your warming smile
Thank you trees … for your perfume in the air
Thank you breeze … for blowing through my hair
Thank you God … for bringing us together
Rordan longed to tell Ula of his growing love for her but couldn’t bring himself to
do so. What if she rejected him and thought him strange like Finten and the Brothers
did? He didn’t want to lose their newfound friendship. Ula also had her own feelings
of love but, for the same reason, couldn’t share them with Rordan.
After four frigid months at the hunting camp, the band moved back to their home
by the sea, convinced at last that the devil ship would not return. Upon arrival in the
village, the community of Natives gathered to build a special lodge for the White
Devils who had become Friends of the First Light People.
Through the coldest days, when muted conversations and irritating coughs grated
through the smoky lodges of the hunting camp, Brother Rordan had sat apart, whittling
a piece of deer breastbone with a small flint blade. Now he presented a Celtic
cross to Father Finten. For the first time the young poet could remember, his mentor
offered genuine praise and appreciation, acknowledging this expression of his art.
Finten raised his eyebrows, smiled, and took and blessed the cross. “This is truly
beautiful, Brother. I think your cross should stand above the entrance to our lodge,
that all may see the symbol and be reminded of our crucified Saviour.”
The cross became a meaningful emblem, not only to the Brothers, but also to
everyone in the village. When Bjorn and Ari expressed interest, Finten talked about
Christ. The two Norsemen had been exposed to Christian teachings as children but
had understood little. Finten was careful not to overstep the bonds of friendship by
aggressive preaching.
White Eagle and the First Light people had their own interpretation of the sacred
symbol and likened it to the medicine wheel, which represented the sacred number
four. White Eagle explained that there are four directions and four winds…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562826

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763106

Fury of the Wind

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“Andrew McNeill, Dave’s grandfather, had the house built when
he brought his young family from Scotland,” Penny explained as
they made their way downstairs. “He spared no expense. Farming
was profitable at the turn of the century and building materials
were cheap. Dave’s father took over the farm from his father, then it
was left to Dave to carry on when Dad died. Alan isn’t interested in
staying at home to farm.”
“But he seemed quite happy to be doing whatever he was doing
with the tractor when I drove up,” Sarah interjected.
“Oh yes, he’s a good help when he’s home. He still thinks of this
as his home, and it will be, for as long as he wants it that way.”
Sarah had been carrying little David in her arms but now, because
he was beginning to fuss and squirm, she handed him to his mother.
“He’s getting tired,” Penny said, “it’s nap time. Why don’t you go
and sit in the parlour, Sarah, while I put him down.”
“Thanks, but I’d better go home,” Sarah said, glancing at the
watch on her wrist, “I’ve already been here longer than I intended.
I’ve enjoyed it so much that the time has flown.”
“But I haven’t had a chance to ask if you’ll come to the fall fair
with us at the end of September.” Penny bounced the fussing baby
on her hip. “I know it’s weeks away, but it’s the event of the year in
Nimkus, and we start planning our exhibits early.”
“Oh, do you exhibit?” Sarah asked, her interest piqued.
Penny laughed. “Oh my, yes, I’ve become a regular country girl
with my garden produce and homemade bread and canning. And
Dave shows his best animals, wins lots of prizes, too. It’s fun, Sarah,
we’ll have to get you started on it next year.”
“I’d like that. Yes, I’d love to go to the fair with you.” She paused,
then added, “Maybe Ben will go, too.”
Penny shook her head. “I doubt it, he never does. But who knows?
Maybe he’ll go now that he has you to go with him.”
“Yes, I hope he will. I’m sure it’s been very lonely for him having only
his mother for companionship ever since he was a very young man.”
Penny glanced at her quickly, and Sarah had the momentary impression
that the look was one of surprise. But she said nothing
and, after warm goodbyes, Sarah went out to the yard where she
found Flicka waiting for her. Alan had tied her in the shade of a
large old maple near the horse paddock…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073530

Arrows

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“Why do you want me to baptize your baby again?” I asked her,
sipping from a cup of hot chocolate sweetened with honey. I knew
well enough that was the usual procedure, but she probably didn’t.
The house was not well located. It was on the perimeter of the
town, near the place where the Indians had made their temporary
encampment. We sat on rickety chairs at the table in her kitchen, her
slave minding the baby outside. I could see them through a window
that was nothing more than a squared opening in the wattle and
daub wall.
Josefa had aged since I last saw her; left behind was the young
woman that shivered every time the monkeys howled or a jaguar
roared in the mountains. This was a weathered woman with hands
reddened and swollen from work. But in her big brown eyes, the girl
lingered, and she could still make me shrink inside when she burst
into tears.
“What? What is it, Josefa?”
She sobbed and wiped her face with the edge of her apron.
“Nothing, really. I’m very happy to see you, Friar Salvador. I
missed you terribly.”
“So am I to see you, but tell me, why are you crying?”
I didn’t have time for this. I was tired from the time spent writing
the letter for Losada and worried by their content. I reached out and
held her hand.
“Josefa, is there something you wish to tell me?”
She stopped sobbing and looked at me, deadly serious, then
glanced through the window.
“Only if it is as a confession. All I tell you in confession is secret,
isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I was not expecting her to speak so plainly.
“He circumcised my baby. He spoke in a strange tongue and he
circumcised my baby. He is a Jew! And now my baby is a Jew as
well! Am I damned?”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562848

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Still Waters

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And why shouldn’t she be happy? She had just committed to marrying
a wonderful man, who obviously adored her. They were of the
same faith … no problems there. And Morley had found a woman
who shared his faith … no problems there, either. So why should she
not be literally dancing with joy?
I’m tired, that’s all. Tomorrow, I’ll be fine. Just let me go to bed now,
and I’ll be fresh as a daisy to take Cam to church tomorrow … my church
… his church. Thank God, no more conflict with Mom and Dad. Aunt
Millie … what will Aunt Millie say? She’ll be happy, of course, even if
she has always favoured Morley. No more worries, Tyne.
She was jolted from her thoughts by the others making a move to
leave the table, and she heard Cam say to her dad. “I’d like a word
with you, sir, if you have a minute.”
Oh no, Cam, not tonight, let’s wait a day or so. She knew he planned
to ask her dad for her hand in marriage. Why did he always have to
be so formal, his manners so impeccable? Now she would be obligated
to stay up and join them all in the living room after Cam had
his talk with her dad. There would be hilarity, maybe even toasts. Jeff
Milligan would declare he must break out his best bottle of wine. He
always professed to have one on hand for joyous occasions, although
Tyne had yet to see him open one.
She got up quickly to help her dad out of his chair but he was
already on his feet, grasping the corner of the dining table with one
hand and his cane with the other. He waved her away when she offered
to help him into the living room, but she noticed that he took
Cam’s arm and let the younger man guide him through the doorway.
No indeed, no more worries. She had done the right thing by accepting
Cam’s marriage proposal.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068

Straits and Turns

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…protocols and ways that all members adhered to, which was to slow
down and do things the way others have done them before since here
no one did things to impress the boss. Therefore, after Mike had finished
his cigarette, he decided to go to the can, although he didn’t feel
an urgent need, to give Luigi enough time to do his part of the job.
He sat on the toilet and suddenly the same image of his hero
came to his mind when he frantically searched his pocket, into which
lucky enough, he discovered the pencil he used to write down the
number of gallons that filled the occasional engine tank, to make sure
that later in the day, he didn’t enter the wrong number on the official
logs of the company. With the pencil surely in hand, he took a piece of
toilet paper and, folding it in two just so the pencil wouldn’t poke holes
in it, Mike started unfolding the image he had in his mind. He had
plenty of time, according to Luigi, who preferred things done slowly;
suddenly, the image changed, as if in a revelation, and became a new
one which he described as softly as he could so he wouldn’t pierce the
soft paper. Mike knew he had to rewrite it sometime later, yet he slowly
unfolded it on toilet paper, and when done, he folded it in two and
placed it in his pocket.
He went out only to realize that Luigi had finished his work
and was standing at the side of a bench, talking to another Italian,
Giovanni, an engineer, who was on the afternoon shift like them. One
could understand, that here in this big corporation for which Mike
worked, there were men of different backgrounds, Italians, Hellenes,
Chinese, and other nationalities, however, the Italians were just like
the Hellenes, Mike remembered that back in Athens we used to say,
una fatcha una ratsa, meaning that Hellenes and Italians were so much
alike, just like one race and they never talked about the war of 1940
when the Italians attacked Greece.
Luigi then informed Mike that it was time to go for their coffee,
so all three headed towards the small coffee room out in the yard. It was
a pleasant afternoon to the point of making Mike feel nostalgic. The
sun was passing the west horizon slowly, just like Luigi liked things
to be done, towards Stanley Park to the west of the city…

https://draft2digital.com/book/4250839#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

The Unquiet Land

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“Get out of my sight,” Finn yelled with more passion. “Get out of my sight till Caitlin comes back. And if she doesn’t come back, or if I find out that you’ve harmed her in any way, you’d better stay out of my sight. Otherwise I’ll kill you.”
Michael rose from the table without a word and left the house. He walked like one in a trance as far as the barn, then he leaned against the wall and wept. The tears brought some relief to his tortured mind, but as he climbed the rest of the way to the cottage his fear grew again like a nauseating vision of eternity. Remorse tightened its suffocating lock on his throat. He wished he could die.
Michael opened the door of the cottage and stepped inside. For a heart-lifting second of hope he expected Caitlin to be there, waiting for him by the fireside. But the cottage was empty and cold. In deep despair he was about to flee, about to rush down the hill again and give himself up to the law in Lisnaglass. But fear of the consequences stopped him. Anguished and frightened he lay on the straw-filled tick on his bed and suffered the cruel torture of the demons in his mind.
That which hurt most was Finn’s banishment. To be cast out by such a man was a more atrocious punishment than death. What a strange revenge of fate, Michael thought, remembering the bleak November day when he drove his own father to the railway station and told him not to return. He had used almost the same words as Finn had: “If you come back, I’ll kill you.” His father had not come back. He did not even look back as he walked away from the horse and trap on which his youngest son had driven him to the town. He carried only a canvas bag containing all that his profligate life had left to him. That canvas bag was the last tangible remains of his father that Michael ever saw, for it somehow caught on the door of the train as his father went aboard and fell on to the platform. The stationmaster picked it up and handed it into the compartment.
That memory had returned to Michael frequently during the past ten or eleven years. He often wondered where the bag was and whether his father still owned it. Strange to recall the bag more than the huge, round, florid-faced man who owned it. Stranger yet when the man was as memorable as Thomas Carrick: memorable for his flaming yellow hair and a face that glowed bright red as if burnt by the fiery aureole of his hair; memorable for the mountainous bulk of his body and for the inexhaustible energy with which he drove it to excesses of work, to excesses of drinking, to excesses of lust, to excesses of cruelty.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562888

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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Ari found a special friendship in Grey Wolf, once Grey Wolf learned from Ari that
he had been avenged for the loss of his ear. Grey Wolf and Leaping Water expected
their first child before the end of the next summer.
Throughout the winter, Rordan and Ula created a deep special connection with
Running Deer and the other camp children, teaching them simple songs in the Celtic
of his own childhood. They called Ula, Aira, meaning Of The Wind, because she
could run like the wind and beat almost anybody in a race. She was expert at throwing
a knife and could hit a target at twenty paces. Ula didn’t mind the new name
because both names sounded so similar and she loved the acknowledgment of her
prowess and strength. The Natives gave Brother Rordan the name Mountain Thrush
for his pleasing voice and happy laugh, though many of the elders referred to him as
Ominotago, Beautiful Voice. The children were also fascinated with his blonde hair,
almost the colour of the cotton traders brought from the Lands of Winter Sun.
For the first time in many years, Brother Rordan had found his niche as a singer
and teacher of song among the Natives. Finten regarded the transformation from
surly boy to happy Brother as a miracle and didn’t object that Rordan and Ula
seemed to spend all their time together. Perhaps this was God’s country after all. He
often thought that if singing were praying twice, the singing of the children would
surely bring conversions.
Music contains a power stronger than many medicines and Brother Rordan’s
chanting was healing Ula’s sadness but she still remained wary, especially toward
Father Finten and Bjorn, both so much older than she or the Brothers. It took a
period of fever, when Ula had to be nursed by Chochmingwu Corn Mother, Brown
Bear’s wife, for Rordan to reach a new closeness with Ula. It was then that he saw her
vulnerability, as she revealed her childhood suffering through fevered ravings and as
he witnessed her tears.
Since her daughter’s murder by Illska, Corn Mother had dedicated herself to healing
the village children and young people. It was a testament to her loving heart that
she nursed one of the white strangers. She also appreciated Rordan’s commitment to
the children and so she reached out to his constant companion.
Corn Mother’s herbs worked their magic. Ula began to speak to Rordan of her
past as she recovered from the fever that had racked her for two weeks, and as she
saw the relief and warmth in Rordan’s eyes.
“How did I come to be a slave? No, I wasn’t taken by Vikings. My parents weren’t
killed in an awful raid. I didn’t crawl out of the flames. My pigshit mother thought
I’d make a good nun and sold me to a convent. A good nun, ha! Could you see me
in a convent?
“My father? I had three fathers. All of them were my father. None of those assholes
was. I was traded to the convent for six chickens and a pig. A pig! My mother got the
better of the deal: She got the pig; they got me.
“I was there a whole bloody year. Thought they’d rescued me from a life of shame
following my mother’s trade. I was their prisoner, more like it. Stale straw and kitchen
slops and prayers, prayers, prayers, morning, noon and night. So I ran off dressed
as a boy. Then they were going to hang me up for a loaf of stale bloody bread. The
sheriff sold me to a Norseman instead.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562826

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763106