Sunday 20 October 2013

Seventh and Lombard



Peg Magner and her family tumbled from a rotting ship onto the dock at Ellis Island, and thanked her lucky stars to be alive. It was a miracle they’d all survived the journey, while so many others bobbed in the waves between here and Ireland.

That joy was shattered the moment she set foot in the hellhole called The Five Points. After two weeks of that place, a quick death at sea seemed like blessing. Two weeks was more than enough to convince, Peg, that her family needed to find someplace better to live.

In the year 1872, Philadelphia was growing out of all proportion. It was turning from a waterside town, into a burgeoning metropolis. A constant flood of immigrants streamed from the harsh boroughs of New York to make their home there. Sean, Peg’s husband, was worried they would starve on the roadside before the journey was complete. However, in the end, the ragged family didn’t have to walk one mile.

Sean made a deal with a steam-boat captain. He agreed to load and unload the cargo, as well as paying a small fee, for which four miserable Irish wretches could sleep on deck among the casks of whiskey. Even though the fee was small, it represented nearly half of the family’s worldly wealth.

By the end of the loading, Sean’s hands were the colour and texture of minced meat. The day was all but gone when the boat slipped its mooring, and the smokestack belched dirty plumes into the night air. Sean staggered over to where Peg and the kids were huddled, and dropped to the deck.

“Sweet Mary above, what have they done to you?” she asked, seeing the blood drip from the ends of his trembling fingers. Peg bandaged his flayed hands with strips torn from her underskirts, and let him rest his head on her lap while he slept. The warmth rising from her body kept him warm as a stiff breeze whipped across the deck. Soon, she felt the waves raise the nose of the boat and a sheet of spray rained down on them. Peg gathered the children to her and wrapped her shawl around the tiny family.

The journey took two days and the passage was mercifully calm. The girls, both four, loved the adventure. But Peg herself did nothing but fret. How would they ever survive in this strange new world. The twins use the boat as their playground and raced between the stacks of barrels. Youth is an armour against the world. One girl was called Aishling, the other, Aine. Twin cherubs with flaming red curls and a face full of freckles.

On the afternoon of the second day, the ocean swell lessened dramatically and they entered the Delaware. It was such a huge expanse of water Peg wouldn’t believe it was just a river.

“Sean, is everything in this place so big?  Rivers as wide as the sea, land you couldn’t walk if you lived to be a hundred, and so many people,” Peg pondered, shaking her head at the water. He just made a comforting sound and put his arm around her shoulders. A few hours later, the banks closed in on them and she started to make out building behind the treeline. Soon, the buildings multiplied until there was no trees left.

A fog of smoke hung over the dock, as they moored in Philadelphia. Sean braced himself for the backbreaking task of unloading the boat. Peg had made pads from her only jacket, to cover his hands.

“Ah Peg, you’ve gone and destroyed your coat! Winter is coming, and you’ll need that more than I need these,” he said, when she presented him with the stitched woollen mitts.

“I need a husband able to work,” she said, and shoved him gently toward the gangway.

While Sean toiled, Peg and the girls went in search of lodgings. Wherever she looked, there were signs which said, “No Dogs, No Blacks, No Irish.” It was a mantra that she’d encountered often in New York. At first, she’d been shocked, but she soon became accustomed to the ignorance. She moved further and further into the city. At last she came across a segment of clapboard-houses, thrown up so shoddily, they seemed to be held up by the one next door. This teeter-totter of buildings housed dozens, if not hundreds, of people. Whole families living in one tiny room. Ten such families shared a privy if they were lucky, they slopped piss-buckets into the street, if they were not.

At last, she arranged a lease on a single room. She paid in advance for a month, and that dispensed with any money they had. They had a home, at least for a month, and that was something. It turned out that they were one of the few white families living in this part of Philly. It sat in a no-man’s land between Seventh, and Lombard Street. When Sean finished unloading the steamer, they carried all they owned on their backs, and moved into their new home.

It took a while, but Sean found work at a Tannery on the docks. He moved the stinking hides which were still slick with tallow. Every night, he washed in the freezing water of the Delaware, before making his way home. Even so, the smell of rotting flesh never left his skin.

It wasn’t all bad in their new home. Peg even found a little bit of Ireland in the shape of a small park, aptly named, Star Garden Park. The parks paths were lined with majestic trees. Someone had even hung a swing from a low-hanging bough. The girls loved to play there. Aine was a right whelp, and was always causing mischief. But Aishling was a pet.

On the last day of October, Peg and the girls were in the park, as always. Aishling and Aine were taking turns on the swing, while Peg sat on a nearby bench and fretted over the looming rent. It could have been a minute, or it could have been five, before Peg noticed the chatter of little girl voices had stopped. She looked up and Aishling was alone on the swing, gently swaying over and back.

Peg got to her feet and walked over, calling for Aine to come out of where she was hiding, but she didn’t. Peg checked all the bushes and trees, but her little Aine wasn’t hiding behind any of them. Dread filled Peg’s whole body. She grabbed Aishling from the swing and dragged her along as she searched every inch of the park, yelling herself raw. As a last resort, she ran back to the tenement, hoping against hope that Aine had come home by herself, but the tiny room was empty. Her unnatural cries of agony rang, they soon drew a crowd of black faces to her open door.

“What is it, Lady?” asked one girl.

“My baby is gone. My baby is taken,” Peg wailed at the gathering crowd. The slim young woman who had spoken ran away down the stairs. In minutes, she reappeared, shadowed by a huge breasted woman the colour of a starless night. The crowd parted before this woman like the Red Sea had done for Moses. Her face was a patchwork of long healed welts, raised by an expertly laid whip. Her eyes were brown, with yellowed whites. Her substantial lips were pursed and the flesh of her neck wobbled as she walked. The crowd fell back, respectfully bowing their heads.

“Lady, Lady,” said the thin girl, shaking Peg by the shoulder in an attempt to break through her hysterical crying. “Diss be Mama Tess, she is come to help, Lady.” The elderly woman squatted low on creaking knees. She roughly grabbed Peg’s face between two paddle-like hands. When Peg continued bawling, one hand lifted an inch, then landed a thunderous slap. The sound caught in Peg’s chest and her eyes finally registered the dark face floating inches from her own. Holding Peg’s chin, the woman gazed into Peg’s eyes. It was hypnotic.

After a second, the woman looked away, fixing her gaze on the tiny red-haired girl cowering in the corner. At last, the huge woman spoke, her voice deep and melodic; the words exotic. The thin girl translated the strange dialect for Peg’s benefit.

“Mama says it is not too late, the bond between such girls is strong. Your daughter can be found, but you must take us to where the little one was lost,” the young woman said. Mama dragged Peg to her feet with one beefy hand, while lifting Aishling into the crook of the other. Peg was shoved past the still growing crowd and down the stairs.

To begin with, her legs moved without her mind realising. What was happening was too much to cope with. But sanity returned and Peg burst into a run. This was her only hope of finding Aine.

Peg reached the swing well ahead of anyone else. Collapsing to the ground, she threw her arms around the plank of wood her daughter sat on not an hour past. A moment later she was roughly pushed aside by Mama, who placed a shocked Aishling on the seat. Mama kneeled, getting face to face with the child, then she began rocking over and back. From her huge chest a low hum of noises grew in strength until the air was filled with wild sounding words. Peg’s head began to spin. The crowd following them had swelled to nearly fifty, but none approached the Mama Tess, who they clearly held in awe. As the huge woman stroked Ashling’s cheek, her words grew in volume, and speed. Aishling’s eyes glazed over, Mama was now nose to nose with the child, peering deep into her hypnotised eyes. A second grew into two, two into an age. Peg and the crowd held their collective breaths. It was Mama who broke the spell by bounding to her feet and dashing off towards the far end of the park without even a word.

The crowd sprinted after her, like a pack of hounds on the scent of a fox. For an old woman, she was unbelievably fast. Even Peg, who was driven on by terror, found it hard to keep up. Mama Tess ran out of the small park, heading for the river. Down streets and lanes she led the still growing gang, Peg at the head of them all, with Aishling crushed to her chest as she ran.

Without warning, Mama Tess stopped at the door of a back-alley tavern. She flung it open with such force, she split one of the planks in half. Inside sat a group of rough looking mountain men. They wore untamed-beards and their clothes were made from animal pelt. Mama approached the group and pulled the one sitting nearest to his feet. He struggled in her grasp, but she had no problem holding him. She drew him close and her deep voice erupted in a fountain of blood curdling words. Her clawed hand carved symbol in the air, and the man shuddered. Her voice grew louder, foam appeared on the man’s lips, his eyes bulged and filled with blood. With a tremendous scream, Mama pushed the man away from her. He swayed on his feet, then gurgled, then crumpled to the table, dead. The rest of the mountain men were rooted to the spot. Mama Tess reached out and grabbed another man. This time her words were nearly English as she asked, “Girl chille!”


Mama Tess dropped the man from her grasp and watched him scurry to a bench along the back wall. He shoved a bench away to reveal a trap door. Mama Tess hooked the door with one meaty finger and threw it open. Inside huddled, Aine, her bright red curls shaking with fear. Peg rushed forward and plucked her precious girl from the dank hole, bedraggled, but alive.

As she cradled, Aine, she looked at the strange, Mama Tess, and knew she would never be able to repay her…never. As if reading her mind, the huge black lady smiled, then simply walked away.

13 comments:

  1. Wow! What an amazing tale, Squid. It really was a roller coaster, and I had no idea where you were taking me. Excellent and well written!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Karie I hope you got my comment on your Loan story, you have a bit of Stephen King hidden inside you somewhere, wonderful

      Delete
    2. Haha. I did, thanks. And you Mr. Squid are a painter of words :)

      Delete
  2. This is just amazing!! Thanks for sharing your wonderful talent with us.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rea I think you are being too kind but I was never one to tell a lovely lady she was mistakens so i will bow graciously and say 'Thank you so much my Lady'

      Delete
  3. This is spectacular Squid! It's like a whole movie in one short. So I guess Mama is a witch? :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Nikkah, I am loving the new profile photo, You hit the nail on the head, I had in mind for Mama a cross between a witch and a Voodoo doctor, herbal healer kind of thing.

      Delete
  4. I love the time period it was set in, it makes everything so much better. I that Mama Tess was like a pagan doctor :) I wouldn't say witch exactly..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wanted to set the story in a time were magic still had a real value and the line between right and wrong was not so clearly defined. Back then adventure was around every corner and help came from the strangest places. I am glad you liked it, when I was writing it the word count ran miles over and I had to cut out 300 words to make it fit the instructions of the challenge

      Delete
    2. PS thanks so much for following the blog, It made my day :)

      Delete
    3. well we could still have magic today, but then again, older time periods are the best for stories like these :)
      and I really like your blog, It's my pleasure to follow it

      Delete
  5. I think your right Anya I am so proud that fourteen people have said they enjoy my work enough to follow my blog, every time I got a notification that I had a new follower it gave me the most delicious jolt of joy. I agree magic is to be found in every day and ever time but I love making my mind travel through time as it allows me to believe in things so much more readily. I hope I can keep you provided with new stories from time to time that you will continue to enjoy. Have a great day, Squid

    ReplyDelete
  6. Loved it Squid! This could definitely be expanded! A great break from the workday; read it while at lunch...I always save your stories for quiet times so I can truly enjoy them!

    ReplyDelete