Kilpara (5 page)

“
That’s where Father found you,”
Mark said, already familiar with what came next.

Rengen nodded. “I still be sleeping when your
papa comes into the barn next morning. The horses was whinnying, so
right away he knows something was up. He begins poking round in the
hay for vermin, looking for what’s disturbing them horses. He jabs
at me with a pitchfork, and I awoke to the strangest face I ever
seen. All that red hair and beard. I never sees anything like it
before.

“
I’s getting fevered in the night
and thought for sure I be imagining him. He bein’ nothing like them
fat cigar-smoking plantation boss men who grabbed at colored girls.
That’s what my master be doing, satisfying hisself with colored
girls whenever he pleased. Them’s all running away from him when
he’s coming near, but that only gets him more intentioned. He's not
stopping till he gets one of them and he be pulling down his pants,
exposing his fat, white belly, and taking his pleasure right then
and there. He be laughing then all mighty pleased with hisself,
knowing he be master.” Rengen heaved a frustrated sigh, anger
burning in his dark eyes. We had seen the scars on his back
inflicted as retribution for interfering with outrages against his
younger sister.

“
Your papa stood over me with the
pitchfork,” he continued. “His eyes fierce-like was enough to
frighten any vermin. He’s not dressing like no Southerner neither.
He’s not wearing them fancy white pants or straw hat; he be having
on thick work pants tucked inside them rubber boots that come up to
his knees. His red hair was fringed like fire around the edges of
that flat cap of his. I just lies there staring at him.

“
He begins aiming that pitchfork at
my throat and says, ‘Boy, youse be trespassing in my barn’ in his
strange sounding voice. I knows for sure then he be no Southerner.
I’s try to answer but my mouth was gone dry so no words was coming
out. I says my prayers then because I’s thinking this be the end
for sure. Then he does a strange thing, your papa, he calls out to
his men and tells them to go fetch your mama. She’s coming then to
take a look. She says I be fevered and orders them men to get me
into the bunkhouse.

“
That’s when I sees the house for
the first time. My eyes was bleary like, but it be nothing like
them houses in the south. All that stone and no lounging porticos.
I sees them flower gardens in amongst the lawn with them tables and
chairs sitting outside under leafy trees. This be the North, I says
to myself, and I’s giving thanks to the Lord for delivering me
here.

“
Theyse put me in a bed. I never be
sleeping in no bed before.” Rengen paused, a smile spreading across
his big face. “It be so soft and smells so good that I’s sleeping
on and off for several days and when I’s waking up for good, there
be your mama’s beautiful face, all sympathetic-like. And Miss
Eileen, she be rubbing some kind of salve on my feet, complaining
to your Mama that these be the worst pair of famine feet she’s ever
seeing. I’s not understanding what she’s meaning, but it don’t
matter no-how. She be rubbing something on my feet that makes them
feel mighty good.

“
I’s needing to go because I’s not
trusting no white folk, and I’s wanting to meet up with other
coloreds heading further north. But your Mama, she stops me, says I
be too sick and has to get better before I goes anywhere. Her words
wasn’t harsh like them other white folk and I be listening ‘cause
she’s talking all kind-like.”

“
Mother and Father knew what it was
like to be victims,” I broke in. “The Crown stole their family home
in Ireland. Then the Confederates and the war robbed from them,
too.”

“
We’re all victims of something,”
Dan interrupted.

“
Give me a beautiful woman and I’ll
gladly be her victim,” Mark jested.

“
Like Trista Joyce,” Dan
teased.

“
She’ll do all right,” Mark
said.

“
Better not let Sarah hear you talk
that way,” Dan warned.

Mark stood up and put his hat over his heart.
“No woman will ever make me stray from my sweet Sarah’s side,” he
recited. Turning to me, he continued, “What about you, Wiz? Do you
find Trista Joyce as tempting as those fancy women in
Baltimore?”

Scrambling to my feet, I jerked his hat away
and slapped him with it. I was still seething over his interference
in Mother’s room. His offer to take her to her Godforsaken island
had only made matters worse. He could afford to be generous. Mother
would never allow him to leave Stonebridge for so long. Couldn’t he
see she was better off here in the care of competent doctors,
instead of fueling her notion to undertake a dangerous journey that
would surely kill her?

He grabbed for his hat. I pushed him, and he
pushed me back.

“
Why in hell did you offer to take
Mother to Ireland?” I snapped.

“
Any fool can see she’s determined
to go back there,” Mark shot back. “You’re not willing to leave
your fine life in Baltimore. Somebody has to take her.”

“
I was trying to change her mind.
If you’d kept your mouth shut, it might’ve worked.”

“
No, it wouldn’t. If you were here,
you’d know that. You don't care what’s happening to her. You never
bother to come home anymore.”

“
That has nothing to do with what’s
best for Mother.”

“
Yes, it does. You can’t just waltz
in here after not showing your face for two years and think you
know what’s going on. Get it through your thick skull, she’s dying.
Does that even mean anything to you?” He turned his back to me.
“Sorry, I forgot, whoring and money are all you care
about.”

He started to walk away. I grabbed his
shoulder and brought him round to face me. “I care about Mother as
much as you do. So don't push me, Mark. I'll whip your
ass.”

Mark’s face contorted with rage and he
puckered his mouth as if to spit. Instead, his words spat with
anger. “You want to whip me? Go ahead. Try. You don’t have the guts
to fight. You proved that during the war. Stayed all safe and cozy
holed up in your office. Us—Dan, Francis, me—we were out there in
the middle of arms, legs, bodies getting blown to bits. We saw men
spill their guts. You think you can take me. Come on. Give it your
best shot.”

He raised his fists, positioned himself to
strike a blow. I moved into a fighting stance, my feet set apart,
my fists clenched. We circled each other ready to punch. Dan and
Rengen quietly got to their feet and moved aside.

“
I wasn't afraid to fight. I chose
not to,” I said. “You know Father depended on me to get a fair
price for the horses. I saw to it that Stonebridge survived. And
now I'm the one forced to take Mother to Godforsaken Ireland, all
because of you. You—and your misplaced loyalties.”

Mark moved away from the fire and closer to
me. “Misplaced loyalties, be damned. All you care about is
yourself. Who are you to say anything about Mother? Or the war?” He
jabbed, and I ducked. “Look at what she did for you? And you never
as much said thank you. Dan and I stayed put. We watched this
sickness take hold of her a little each day. She waited for you to
come home. But not you, not the big city gentleman. That'd be too
much to ask.”

I struck at him and missed. “Nobody told
me.”

“
What for? To force you into coming
back? Not a chance.” Mark jabbed and caught my left jaw. Pain shot
through my face. “Mother would never make you come home. She wanted
you here of your own free will. She waited and waited until
finally—”

I moved in closer, threw a punch and caught
Mark’s left shoulder. He followed with a right jab straight to my
chest. I winced. We locked arms and fell to the ground, rolling
dangerously close to the fire. Dan and Rengen moved in and pulled
us apart. Dan slapped our hats back on our heads, then grabbed each
of us by the shoulder and steered us toward the horses.

“
Fighting won’t solve anything,” he
said.

We mounted in silence, Dan still in the
middle, and rode back to Stonebridge. With a terse “goodnight” I
went to my room and sat numbly by the window, looking out onto
blackened hillsides and the path that led to Lilah’s
hut.

The next morning my jaw and chest ached.
Eileen and her husband Seamus looked at me curiously as they fussed
over my departure. I escaped their inquisitiveness by mumbling that
I needed to see Mother before I left.

Mother smiled at me when I entered the room. I
kissed her cheek.

“
How soon can you be ready to leave
for Ireland?” she asked, her eyes searching my face for
reassurance.

“
As soon as I tie up loose ends and
make arrangements for my possessions. In about a week. I’ll send a
telegram.”

She nodded. “I’ll begin making the necessary
preparations.”

We discussed more details until she began to
tire. I kissed her forehead and promised to return quickly. She
sank gratefully into the pillows and closed her eyes.

Outside, I found my brothers near the stables
already saddled and ready to ride out to Stile Valley. Mother’s
resolve to carry out her plan weighed heavily between us as Dan
bade me goodbye and rode off. Mark lingered.

“
About last night—” he
began.

“
Forget it,” I said.

He let the reins slide through his fingers
loosening then tightening them. “It’s just that I can’t stand to
see Mother like this.”

I nodded my agreement. “She should be here
where she’ll be looked after, instead of embarking on this
excursion.” I waited, expecting his anger to flare up again, but it
didn’t happen.

“
She won’t change her mind. Not
unless—only if she becomes so ill that she can't—” Pain flooded his
voice and was etched in every feature of his face. His unspoken
words wiped out our disagreement of the previous
evening.

“
I know,” I said quickly, not
wanting my mind to be pulled into that dark abyss where death
lurked.

“
I would’ve taken her to Ireland,
you know. If she wanted me to.”

I nodded. “It’s impossible to
refuse.”

“
You’ll do the right thing,
Wiz?”

“
It’s decided,” I said.

“
Good.” He dug his heels into his
horse’s flanks and galloped out to meet Dan who waited at the top
of the hill. They paused before riding out of sight. I watched them
disappear over the hilltop, thinking how unfair it all was. If I
were to refuse Mother, I would appear selfish in her eyes and in
those of my brothers and their families. It was true that my
brothers were needed at Stonebridge House to deal with the daily
business of overseeing the farm. They considered my career a minor
issue, of little consequence, in the large scheme of family
responsibilities. I was doomed to be the dutiful son, bound by
honor to grant Mother her dying wish. My life was about to be
turned upside down.

Morosely, I went to where the carriage waited.
Feeling the need for fresh air, I climbed up on the dickie beside
Seamus instead of riding inside where the interior was more
comfortable. He shook the reins and we retreated from Stonebridge
House, its dominating silhouette slowly disappearing out of sight
as we descended the long avenue.

The horses moved forward at a steady pace as
we set out for Hagerstown, ripening countryside unfolding with each
mile. Seamus’ chatter fell into rhythm with the sound of horses’
hooves. He was one of those nondescript men who blended into the
landscape. Compared to Eileen’s height and plumpness, he was short
and thin with an elf-like face and a gritty voice. But to hear
Eileen talk about her husband, one was left unprepared for Seamus.
She obviously saw something in him that escaped the rest of
us.

He was a talker who gabbed away at any ear he
managed to hold captive.

“
Aye,” he said, over the reins.
“‘Tis a strange country this, seen its share of war; ruins a
country that, you know. Thank God it’s over and we’ve seen the last
of that bloody battle. ‘Twas only a year ago, men straggled these
roads clad in uniform, crippled, many of them without their
God-given limbs.” He waved a hand at the newly ploughed fields,
resurrected fences and budding orchards. “‘Twas devastation, sheer
devastation. And Master Francis lost to us all for good. And for
what...?”

“
For what,” I echoed.

The wheels scraped against the road. Seamus’
voice grated into a vacuum as the gap slowly closed between
Stonebridge House and Hagerstown.

“
Your grandparents were fine
people,” he said.

“
I only knew them through the
letters they sent,” I said.

“
Our families worked for them.
Eileen’s and mine,” Seamus continued. “That's how we met, ye know.
It was after Lord Purcenell moved into Kilpara, and your
grandparents were forced to live in the tenant cottage on the edge
of their own property.

“
I was betrothed to Eileen, but
there was no work to be had anywhere. Many were starving, the
potatoes having failed ye see, and losing their homes because they
couldn’t pay the landlord’s rent. Left to roam the countryside they
were, with nary a roof over their heads or a bite to
eat.