Blessed are the Children
Chapter 2
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From the boardinghouse's main landing, Sean saw a hallway, a staircase, and a parlor to the left. All stood empty and silent, save for the metallic ticking of a grandfather clock announcing each passing second. Despite the bright sunlight angling across the oak floorboards from the windows on either side of the front door, Sean felt bleak. He fidgeted with his cap, further fraying the edges as he waited for whatever horrors lay ahead. Gregory stood behind him, a heavy hand on his shoulder. Whether providing support or preventing escape, Sean could not tell. A faint scuffle made Sean look up. A thin woman in a modest, dark blue day dress slowly descended the stairs, her slim hand trailing the polished banister, her piercing brown gaze focusing immediately on Sean. "The Ryan boy?" she asked in a flat, crisp tone. Gregory nodded. "Yes, Miss McDougal." Sean wanted to bolt as the brown eyes fixed upon him in wintry appraisal. A long silence made Sean break into a nervous sweat. The woman stared at him as though seeking an answer to some unspoken question. "He'll do," Miss McDougal said, shattering the quiet and making Sean jump. "But you're certain this is Michael's kin?" Her searching eyes never left Sean's face. He had the uncomfortable feeling that she was looking for Michael there. He understood the compulsion. He sought the same thing almost every time he looked in the mirror. "Michael was my cousin," Sean put in, overcoming his discomfort. Miss McDougal pursed her lips. She glanced fretfully up the stairs behind her. "Awfully young, ye are, lad," she observed, lines of disquiet etching her brow. Her icy gaze returned to Sean. "No help for it though, I suppose," she said heavily. "How old are ye, lad?" "Seventeen, ma'am," Sean responded firmly, a bit peeved at being called "lad." "So young. . ." Miss McDougal murmured, glancing uncertainly at Gregory. "But a hard worker, and honest," Gregory told her, his hand still resting on Sean's shoulder. Miss McDougal cackled, a hollow, mirthless sound. "If I had a choice in the matter, I would not leave the lass with him, but I can't take her with me to Minnesota. My brother and his family don't have the space or the means to keep her, having twelve wee ones of their own." Gregory did not reply, but Sean felt his mentor's fingers grip his shoulder a little more tightly. "What? Who?" Sean asked, glancing around. "Your cousin, boy, who did ye think I was talking about?" Miss McDougal snapped exasperatedly. She puffed out her sallow cheeks and pressed her lips into a thin line, her fingernails drumming an irate tattoo on the banister. Gregory protested calmly. "Look, it's obvious the lad didn't know about his mother's cousin and her family. Have some heart for the boy!" Miss McDougal's rigid stance relaxed slightly. "Very well. I promised Molly's mother on her deathbed, mind you, that I would bring Molly to America to stay with Michael. I've fulfilled that promise. I can't put her in an orphanage -- I wouldn't leave a dog in such poor conditions. Would hardly be the Christian thing to do. I've only one option now." Miss McDougal's eyes bored into Sean's. "Ye must take her, lad. You're her closest kin." She motioned to an unseen someone at the top of the stairs. A brown, worn out shoe shuffled tentatively into view, and a skinny, shy-eyed little girl of eight or nine slowly descended the stairs, her eyes downcast. Her red-gold hair was pulled into a braid that curled over her left shoulder. She wore a threadbare shift and dingy stockings. She stopped on the bottom step. "Molly," Miss McDougal said with an offhand gesture, "meet Sean Ryan, your second cousin." Molly nodded, still staring at the floor. One arm behind her back clasped her elbow to her side as she rocked slightly, back and forth, tracing the intricate, floral pattern of the stair carpet with the toe of one shoe. "Straighten up, child! Say, 'How do ye do.' Honestly, girl, remember your manners!" Miss McDougal huffed. Brilliant emerald eyes lifted from the carpet, looking up at Sean through strawberry wisps that had escaped her braid. Sean just stared at her, seeing in Molly his own green eyes and Michael's red hair. For several shocked moments he could not speak. Rioting emotions choked his throat and twisted his stomach. How could he possibly raise a child? He was barely a man himself! "How do you do," the little girl said in a soft, hesitant voice, tugging at the sleeve of her too-short dress. "That's a good lass," Miss McDougal said, giving Molly a little push in the back that sent her stumbling toward Sean. Awkwardly, he caught her, staring daggers at Miss McDougal for toppling the little girl. Sean wrapped his arm around Molly's shoulders and patted her soothingly. Miss McDougal was not paying attention anyway. Now, with her burden unloaded, she was not going to give Sean the opportunity to foist Molly back on her. "Best of luck to ye! Her room is paid up for the week. T'was the least I could do." With that, Miss McDougal turned and loudly clunked up the stairs and out of their lives, leaving Sean staring down at the red-haired, teary-eyed little girl. Awkwardly, Sean tried to separate himself from Molly, but she wrapped her arms around his waist even more tightly, locking her small hands behind his back as if her very life depended on not letting go. Sean knew, at that moment, that his life had changed forever. A feeble cry escaped his trembling lips, sounding much like the prayers he once offered as a boy. "Oh God, what do I do now?" |