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Night has fallen when Donal saw the Dennison’s car pull up. “They’re back, everyone! They’re back,” he called. Moira hurried from the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on her apron. Reaching up she patted a stray tendril of her hair back in place. She reached the front door first, almost tripping over Frank and Christopher.
“Where in the name of all that’s holy have you been?” she asked, relieved. “You’re both a mess and wet through. Get in here and get those wet things off while I put the kettle on.”
Michael walked in the door and took his jacket and hat off. Tony followed, “I guess tea fixes everything in your house? In my house it’s wine.”
“Get upstairs and change. You can tell us all about it when you come down.” Moira said, watching them climb the stairs. “At least you’re home in one piece.”
Ellen and Dania came in from the kitchen. Their arms linked and supporting each other—two young women with one thing in common: love. Everyone gathered in the front room. Frank and Christopher took their places on the floor. Donal and Koslov are seated, and the girls stood by the window.
Michael changed quickly, and Tony borrowed things from the boys, although the fit was not great. They joined the others, and all eyes turn to them as they entered the room. Ellen could barely hide a laugh when she saw what Tony is wearing. The pants are too big, and the sweater hangs loose on his small frame.
“I see you borrowed some of Frank’s things,” Ellen said.
“Ha, ha,” Tony replied. She moved to his side and took his hand. Dania sat on the floor at Michael’s feet, leaning against him.
“So, tell us.” Donal moved forward in his chair, obviously eager to hear. “Where have you been? Did the police catch Hugo? Why were you gone so long?”
Michael glanced at Tony and took a deep breath. He needed a minute to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Mr. Koslov. Hugo is dead.”
Boris dropped his head at the news. “I was afraid of that. He was always so stubborn. How did it happen?”
“The trailers were destroyed by the storm, Hugo and Tevia escaped,” Michael begins. “Lieutenant Gillespie and several policemen went to search for them. We went along. They tried to get away in the Tevia’s truck, but they had to abandon it, and ran on foot. The police caught up to them at the marsh on Hawthorn Street. You know, close to the peat bog. We tried to talk them into giving up. Hugo pulled Tevia out when he blundered into it. By then Tevia was cold and exhausted and turned himself in. He’d had enough. Hugo wouldn’t. He pulled a gun and began shooting, and the police returned fire. He was hit and fell into the bog.” Michael concluded, wanting to spare Boris the final details.
Boris struggled to hold back tears. “He was my sister’s son, and I loved him like my own. His mother was always very stubborn, too.”
The old Russian needed time to grieve, and Donal kept him company in case he wanted to talk while the others went into the kitchen. Moira made tea and fixed a small meal. The women set the table and put out cold, sliced, smoked shoulder, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, and some potato salad along with left-over apple pie. Michael and Tony dove right in as Frank and Christopher bombard them with questions.
“This is just like one of those crime novels at Kinchela’s,” Frank announced. Christopher wanted to hear all about how the trailers broke up in the storm and demanded all the details.
“Mrs. Flannigan, may Ellen and I take a walk around the block?” Tony asked.
“Well, I guess you won’t go far dressed like that,” she said with a grin. Tony looked down at what he was wearing, guess I’m glad its so dark out,” Tony smiled.
“But be very careful. Ellen, take a flashlight from the drawer. There will be a lot of debris from the storm.”
“Why don’t Dania and I go too and be their chaperone?” Michael winked at Dania.
“Go on with you then, and get out of my kitchen, or I’ll find a job for you,” Moira’s tone is strong, but there’s a smile on her lips. “But not you two,” she pointed to Frank and Christopher as they tried to slip away. “A little dish water won’t hurt either of you.”
Boris looked at her, “In my culture men do not wash dishes,” he said.
“In my culture they do if they want to eat,” Moira countered.
“I have a lot to learn,” Boris acknowledged.
****
It was eerie walking in the dark after the storm. All the street lights were out, and the houses were lit by kerosene lamps or candles. The searching beam of the flashlight Tony carried and the tip of his cigarette that flairs each time he inhales were the only earthly illuminations. Fallen limbs and debris littered the yards, sidewalks, and streets. Cars, houses, pieces of a fence, broken signs, and bits and pieces of unrecognizable items are scattered everywhere. It’s a different world than they knew 24 hours ago.
The sky was a blanket of black velvet with millions of stars twinkling peacefully overhead, and an almost-full moon watched over all. The silence was fantastic. There were no cars hurrying past, no music from neighboring houses, no one talking on porches, and the four found themselves whispering so as not to disturb the piety of this newly-created sanctuary.
Michael walked arm in arm with Dania. She didn’t want to talk about Hugo or what happened today.
––––––––
“What are your plans, Dania?” Michael asked.
“Your mother said we can stay at your house for a while. I don’t want to impose on her generosity. We will leave as soon as we are able.”
“That’s great, and afterwards?” Michael wanted her to stay forever but was afraid to say the words to make her.
“Papa will rejoin the carnival. They have moved south, and he knows where they’ll be. That’s his life, and they’re his people. I talked to him about me staying here.” Dania’s voice quivered with emotion.
“You would really stay?” Michael stopped and turned Dania to face him. He can see the stars reflected in her eyes. “You would stay here, with me?” His heart was racing.
“I would, if you want me to.” She looked up at him silhouetted against the star-filled sky. His hair was damp and she brushed a curl off his forehead.
“Do I have to ask your father for your hand in marriage, or can you just say yes and save me from a nervous breakdown?”
“You should ask him; he might say no, after all you are not Russian,” There is a moment of dead silence. Michael was dumbstruck, until Dania bursts into laughter.
“That’s a joke,” she said, reaching for his hand.
“I’m not so sure. There are other concerns. For instance, you’re not Catholic.” Michael would not be allowed to marry a non-Catholic. He could imagine what Father Gallagher might say.
“Is it so different from our Russian Orthodox? It may take time, but we can work it out, can’t we?”
“Well, if we take things one step at a time . . . Oh, I don’t mean I need more time. I know I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much. If it were only me, I would marry you tomorrow, but my parents . . .” Michael realized that there were obstacles to be overcome. Given time they would conquer them all.
“I understand. Your mother and father have been so kind, and I can see how much they love you and want only the best for you. We can allow them time to get to know me, if it would make you comfortable. Our parents have their ways, both yours and mine.”
“Looks like it’s all settled then,” said Michael as he droped down on one knee. “Dania Koslov, will you marry me?”
“Yes, Michael Flannigan, I will marry you,” Dania laughed as Michael lifted her and swung her around yelling, “She said yes!”
Ellen and Tony raced back to see what the shouting was about. Michael and Dania were hugging each other, laughing.
“What’s up with you two?” Tony asked, but he already had a good idea. He wasn’t a gypsy fortune teller, but he had seen it coming.
“Dania and I are going to get married,” Michael said, his smile stretching from ear to ear.
Ellen jumped up to hug Michael. “I always wanted a sister,” Ellen said, turning to hug Dania.
“We have been planning too,” Tony began, a lopsided grin on his face.
“Remember, we’re getting married, too,” Ellen announced excitedly. “We’ll get engaged properly after I graduate high school. Then as soon as I finish my teacher training and find a job we can get married.”
Michael looked at them both. “Have you told Ma and Da your plans?” He was pleased Ellen and Tony decided not to rush. Their parents would also be very thankful.
“Not yet,” Ellen answered. “She knows Tony asked me and I said yes, so I think she’ll approve of our plan.”
The young couples finished their walk around the block and returned to the house on Chandler Street.
Michael walked in the front door ahead of the others and called out, “Ma, we have something to tell you.”
Author Brenda M. Spalding was brought up in “The Lake” area of Newton, Massachusetts. This novel and her mystery series, the Green Lady Inn, are a reflection of her love of New England and her Irish roots.
She traveled for many years with her military husband. Brenda and her family spent most of their time in England and returned to settle in Bradenton, Florida.
She has a Micro Publishing Company, Heritage Publishing.US. Helping new and emerging authors is a passion for her. She is a dedicated member the Sarasota branch of National League of American Pen Women and founder and current president of ABC Books 4 Children & Adults, Inc, a networking organization that aims to help fellow authors and illustrators connect and share information.
With several children’s books to her credit, she is a strong promoter of children’s literacy. She enjoys going to schools and libraries to read her books and talk to children and adults about the benefits of introducing books early in a child’s life. Brenda hopes to foster a love of reading in children that will carry over to their later years.
Brenda is active in the arts and enjoys the opera, ballet and the wonderful theaters of Bradenton and Sarasota.