Authors: Deborah Henry
Adrian walked to the end of the concrete pier, twelve-and-one-half years of age, and jumped aboard the Koliknova Coal Company’s steamer. The ache in Marian’s chest as she watched him was familiar and would never completely go away, but she was not the same woman she had been thirteen years ago. Crushed grapes turn into God’s wine, Father Brennan used to say. She would never again allow herself to be cowed into doing
something she knew was wrong.
Let them come and get her if they dare. This time she was doing right. And this time she would permit herself the feelings of loss and sorrow, grief that she had been previously denied.
She knew, too, that there was no gain in continuing to blame herself. She had been young and confused, manipulated and selfish. She hadn’t stood up and been the mother her baby needed. She hoped with all her heart that as her son grew up, he would find a way to
forgive her. She yearned for forgiveness but understood that she had to muster compassion for the guilt-ridden young lady she had been. No point burying her before making peace, before saying farewell.
“He’ll be throwing up in no time if he isn’t water-oriented. Are you water-oriented, boy?” a shipmate jeered.
“Don’t call me boy,” Marian heard Adrian tell the crew cronies, unafraid of this lot, Marian was sure. He’d seen his share, at least he had that. He took his lemonade and sandwich out of the bag and threw them whatever was left. He watched as they greedily grabbed at the food. He stood on the deck and looked out at his ma, his da, and at Jo.
Marian watched her young son from their place on the granite steps and remembered with regret that in the scurry to get Adrian aboard, he had no time to hug his sister goodbye. She glanced at Ben and Jo beside her, a trinity of sorts, as Adrian’s figure grew smaller and the ship slipped away.
Noticing the rags and other garbage the low tide brought in, Marian waved to the son who had been ripped out of her arms long ago. Watching him disappear from her life yet again, she felt the pit of mourning and let out a silent scream.
She needed someone to touch. She took Ben and Johanna’s hands in hers. It was a cold, fall morning. A cloud of coal dust and smoke swept the shore. Marian no longer believed in God as she’d been taught, but she did believe in love. She knew this fight was not over, and she would protect her children as fiercely as she must in the months and years ahead. There wer
e the sins of the past and the
future, a certain sadness would always remain, but she would never allow her newly found convictions to desert her. Her private shame and resentment were dying, leaving her open and searching and without hate.
Foghorns blew from a distant lighthouse, its beam blinking in the hazy dawn. A rising mist of light along the waterway would guide Adrian’s journey.
1. Can you understand why Marian chose to conceal her pregnancy from Ben? Why did Ben go keep up the pretense of not knowing?
2. What role did Father Brennan play in all of this? Is he the voice of the Catholic church?
3. What role does “Nurse” play in the book? What were her intentions in revealing to Marian that Adrian was still at the orphanage in Dublin?
4. Why was Jo so quick to protect Adrian?
5. Why do Johanna and Adrian play so roughly together? Is this normal play for any brother and sister, or is it heightened somehow by their unusual situation?
6. What specific themes did the author emphasize throughout the novel? What do you think she is trying to get across to the reader?
7. How did Marian and Ben’s marriage evolve over the course of the book? How did Adrian influence their relationship?
8. Was it fair for Sister Agnes to yield so much power over the Ellis Family?
9. How did Adrian’s upbringing at the orphanage affect his personality? In what ways did the abuse he underwent manifest itself?
10. Did certain parts of the book make you uncomfortable? Although this book takes place in the 1960’s, in your life, do you see some of the same painful issues still resonating?
This novel benefitted from the generous support and expertise of people from all walks of life and on both sides of the Atlantic. It gives me particular pleasure to thank Da Chen, Donnybrook Garda Station, Paddy Doyle, Bernadette Fahy, Fairfield University MFA colleagues and friends, Joan Cusack Handler, Tom Jenks, Pamela Malpas, Mike Milotte, Mary O’Connor, the late Mary Raftery, Scott Snyder, The Briscoe Family, The Fairfield Public Library, The Pequot Library, Pauline Turley, Rob Weisbach, Michael White, May Wuthrich.
To my editor, David K. Wheeler, my deepest gratitude for your poetic sensibility and nurturing spirit and to Laura Barkat, the publisher who first believed and then shepherded this labor of love into the novel you hold in your hands, my heartfelt gratitude.
Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity & Writing,
by L.L. Barkat
A few brave writers pull back the curtain to show us their creative process. Annie Dillard did this. So did Hemingway. Now L.L. Barkat has given us a thoroughly modern analysis of writing. Practical, yes, but also a gentle uncovering of the art of being a writer.
— Gordon Atkinson, author
Turtles All the Way Down
Contingency Plans: Poems,
by David K. Wheeler
Simultaneously eloquent and potently raw; intimate reflections on spirituality and maturation, in harmony and conflict, that reverberate through every human journey.
—Carol Cassella, author of
Healer
and National Bestseller
Oxygen
Neruda’s Memoirs: Poems,
by Maureen E. Doallas
Maureen Doallas’s poems delight us with the play of words and impress us with their struggle, to make sense of nature and our natures.
—A. Jay Adler, Professor of English at Los Angeles Southwest College
All T. S. Poetry Press titles are available online in e-book and print editions. Print editions also available through Ingram.
Follow T. S. Poetry Press on Facebook at
https://www.facebook.com/tspoetrypress