Hooker's Bridge

14

Chapter 1

It was still dark when Kevin climbed over the graveyard wall at old St. Kieran Church. The English had commandeered it and turned the basement into a jail. Once over, Kevin peered cautiously around to see if there were guards anywhere. Slowly, he moved from tombstone to tombstone, moving toward the window well in the basement of the church. Suddenly, he heard a noise like a rattle and thud off to the left. He dropped to the ground and pressed his cheek to the cool, damp earth.

As he lay there dead-still, he recalled the last ten days when the English soldiers took his father, Brandon, away with angry shouts of ‘Traitor, scum, thief.’

Kevin screamed at the soldiers, My father is no traitor. Lies, lies, all lies, my father is a good man.

One of the soldiers pushed Kevin out of the way. Kevin’s mother and sister, Aleen, were also screaming and crying. The English wouldn’t treat a dog as cruelly as they did his father, dragging him away with no time to say goodbye, let alone even a proper hug or kiss. The English bound him with rope, threw him into the back of a wagon, and drove off with two soldiers sitting on top of him. They charged him with treason and revolution for stealing grain to feed the hungry, poor Irish villagers. The English charged his father because he was in the inner circle of the Irish Republic Brotherhood. The Brotherhood tried to help the starving Irish families who could not find enough food to barely stay alive. A sham trial was held by a lowly English Judge who listened only to an English Lieutenant’s brief, one-sided, fabricated story. The judge found him guilty and sentenced him to be executed in five days to make an example of him to the other Irish and to keep them under control. Cromwell and the English preferred the Irish starve to death rather than to spend any resources to feed them.

For the last three days, Kevin’s mother, Catharine, was going around to everyone she knew to plead for help to save Brandon. Only old Mr. O’Brian, a former Irish representative to the English Governor, tried, but to no avail. Others were afraid they would become implicated as being part of the Brotherhood, even though it was fully known by the English as a non-violent group who did only charitable and civic work.

Brandon was to be shot today.

Kevin crawled the last several yards on his stomach so as not to be seen. He reached the window well and slid down in headfirst. He looked keenly around the basement. It was dark in the basement, except for one candle at the far end of the room. Softly he whispered, Father, Father, it’s Kevin.

Just as softly, Brandon O’Donnell answered, Kevin you should not have come here. The English would be just as happy to shoot you as they would me.

I know Father, but I just had to see you and talk to you one more time.

Oh Kevin my love, you are now a man, the one to take care of your mother and your sister.

Kevin reached into his pocket and took out a piece of sweet roll wrapped in green linen. Here, Father, Mother baked these. She said they were your favorite. Quite slowly, Kevin handed the sweet roll to his father. Their hands touched and lingered for a few seconds. Kevin wanted to cry—cry like a baby who truly missed his father. It took all the courage he had to remain composed.

Kevin, my lad, you must tell your mother and your sister how much I love them, and you my son have grown to be as fine a young man as any father could have. Kevin, if God allows it, the English will shoot me today. Please, do not come and see it. I have made arrangements with Father McGarry to bring me to the church. And please, do not be bitter at the English; forgive them if you can. Anger and bitterness will just eat you up inside and make you miserable. When you remember this day, think of the courage you had to come here and of our good times together, the times when we went fishing and hunting and horseback riding. The times we walked in the woods and named the birds and trees. Those were the good days, Kevin. You must hold them in your heart. Now, my brave son, you must leave; it will be light soon, and the soldiers will see you in the graveyard.

Once more, their hands groped in unison in the darkness. Kevin, everything in life, has a price; choose very wisely when the price is high. Now, you must go my son, but most importantly, remember and know I am with you always and forever. God bless you, son.

It nearly ripped Kevin’s heart out to have to leave his father; his feet felt like lead as he tried to move. But it was true; the dawn was breaking and every second meant greater danger. Again, Kevin crawled the first several yards on his stomach. When he reached the first tombstone, he rose up and darted from stone to stone. With every step, Kevin wanted to run back to have one more word with his father. But instead, he broke into a full run and dove headfirst over the wall, rolling a few times and then back up on his feet running at full gate again. He ran until he came to the huge old oak tree behind their house. There he stopped, leaned back against the tree, and slid down. Sitting with his head between his knees, he started sobbing like a baby. It must’ve been several minutes he sat there crying and remembering as many good memories as he could about his father. The times he and ol’ Dinjo, his favorite horse, would ride out into the woods with his father to go hunting or to go fishing. Mournfully, he became aware the morning sun was up now, so he got up to go into the house, but it felt like each step he took, again, was like lifting a ton of weight, carrying the confusion of how to think and what to say to his mother and sister.

So instead, he went to the barn and walked over to Dinjo, threw his arms around her neck hugging her and crying. Dinjo got uncomfortable and shook him off. Kevin went to the basket and got an apple and gave it to Dinjo. He said, Ol’ girl, what am I going to do now that dad is gone? Will you teach me new stuff? You’re the only one I have to talk to now. It’s just you and me now. With a couple more pats, Kevin turned and went into the house.

Chapter 2

Kevin carried the last of the baggage out of the house to the carriage and put it in. As he did, he looked back at the house as if in a daze, thinking This was not real. This was the only home he ever knew. What was ahead? Going to America? He glanced around further and then walked around the far side of the carriage. There was ol’ Dinjo standing in the corral by the barn. He went to her and threw his arms around her shoulders and neck and squeezed hard. Dinjo squirmed.

Old girl, why can’t I take you with me, I’ve learned so much riding on your back. He moaned. But Kevin could not think of taking Dinjo to the dock because he didn’t think he could leave without a big scene of parting and that would have been too embarrassing for him.

His mother called, Kevin, here is one more bag. As he painfully pulled away from Dinjo, he gave her his biggest kiss ever.

He took the bag as Catharine pulled the door shut for the last time and fixed the padlock. She seemed to be going in slow motion, also. Kevin and Aleen were standing near. Catharine grabbed them both, and they all hugged in silence as the tears came unabashedly.

We need to leave now to get to the ship on time, Catharine said. With frequent glances back, the three left their life behind and headed on for a new life ahead, in America.

Catharine talked a lot on the way to the shipyard. She repeated that she decided to leave Ireland because the English had marked them. She was warned by old Mr. O’Brien and he said that Aleen and Kevin may be marked as children of a traitor and be at some disadvantage. She went over again, especially with Aleen who was 18, to compare the American money she had exchanged at their bank for Irish pounds. She went over again how they were to get to Cincinnati to meetup with her cousin there. She instructed Kevin, who was 16, that he was responsible to keep track of their baggage and get it moved when needed.

The morning air at the dock was cool and so full of mist it seemed that you could bite it and chew it. Longshoremen were loading the ship with all sorts of freight and supplies. The noise of the bustle, clanging, and hollering heightened the sense of urgency to catch the morning breeze to get to sea. Finally, the passengers were called to board. Friends and family gave best wishes and last goodbyes. Kevin’s aunt and uncle from the village came to the ship to see them off and to take the carriage back. Everyone was hugging and crying and bidding their last farewell.

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