Delaney. Part VI
“The Franciscan Friary,” says Sister Julian. “The one in Drogheda. They have a home for orphan boys. Perhaps they will take Delaney. Brother O’Brien knows the situation. He will know what to do with her.”
Sister Mary Eunice considers this. As hardened as her exterior appears, she has attached herself to the child. Her roughness with the girl was her way to ready her for hard life. But one does not wake in the night to nurse a child, no matter how bizarrely, nor spend seven years trying to protect her without becoming attached. Delaney’s birth shifted the watercourse of the Sister’s life in some profound way. Only a few inches at first, but even a single degree of change will, over time, deliver a person leagues from the location in which they were headed.
“Tis Tuesday,” she says to Sister Julian after a long silence. “Master Duffy from the tavern will be going to deliver three barrels of ale to the Corporate Arms in Drogheda this afternoon. Go with him and call upon the Brothers there. Tell them we have a boy here in Dunleer needing a home. Ask Brother O’Brien to accompany you back to fetch him.”
When Sister Julian returns late that afternoon it is not with Brother O’Brien but with another Brother. Brother Doyle. Brother Doyle is new to the Friary, barely seventeen, and an avid talker. The fifteen-kilometer journey goes quite quickly for Sister who tries desperately to concentrate on what the Brother is saying as she struggles to concoct an inconspicuous way to make known to Brother O’Brien the true identity of their new ward.
As the single-horse carriage rattles up to the convent Brother Doyle jumps down and greets Sister Mary Eunice who wears a concerned look upon her face when meeting him instead of Brother O’Brien. The Brother wonders what may have upset her, then glances at Sister Julian and observes the sister giving an apologetic shrug. Immediately he guesses at the meaning of this non-verbal exchange.
“Forgive me,” he says to Sister Julian. “How thoughtless.” And he swings around to the other side of the carriage to help the short, round Sister down.
“I hear tell that there’s a boy here in Dunleer who needs a home. As it turns out, we have the room. In fact, the opening we have is the spot I myself vacated by joining the Brothers just a few months ago. I came to the Brothers as an orphan myself.”
“We are very grateful, Brother. Grateful indeed. Seems our boy here has been abandoned by his mother. In fact, Father O’Brien may remember meeting the child shortly after he was born. Do ask if he remembers examining a baby born to one of the women in our brothel. The child’s name is Delaney.”
Sister Mary Eunice is grateful for the androgynous name she had given to the girl. It will make it easier for the child to adjust and may tip off Brother O’Brien. Still, Mary Eunice insists on sending the child with a note which she hopes Brother O’Brien can read before the need arises to bath the child. She scribbles it hurriedly as Delaney is retrieved from inside the convent.
Dear Brothers.
We give thanks to God that you are able to take this young boy into your care. Brother O’Brien will remember meeting Delaney a day or two after his birth which occurred at a local brothel. He has, until now, been cared for by the women in the brothel. But seeing as they are unable to care for him any longer and wishing his destiny to not be conditioned by his being raised in such an environment, we are looking for a better outcome. One to be made secure in our Lord Jesus Christ through the kindness of you brothers.
With the affection of the holy Mother of God herself,
Sister Mary Eunice
of the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception
Sister Shannon emerges leading Delaney by the hand. Delaney’s hair has been cut short and she doffs a cap which is pulled down to her eyebrows. She wears a yellow-green long-sleeved shirt, a brown vest and green trousers. Walking with shoes is a strange experience for her as it is the first pair she can remember wearing. It feels as though her feet have less in control over keeping her upright since she can’t grip the earth beneath heel and toes.
“Hello young man,” Brother Doyle says cheerfully, “We’re glad to be having you join the Brothers in Drogheda.” And he lifts Delaney to the buggy seat. “My you’re a slight fellow. Not to worry. We’ll fatten you up in no time.”
“Remember,” says Sister Mary Eunice stretching out her hand to give the Brother her note. “Brother O’Brien met the boy as an infant. Remind him of that and give him this note.”
“Don’t you think it more appropriate to pass it along to our superior, Father Fitzpatrick?”
“Whatever you think best.” She says, not wanting to raise suspicion. “Just thought that since Brother O’Brien has met the boy already, he’d take a special interest.” Then she walks around the carriage to the other side as the man stuffs the note in his pocket.
“Now child,” she says, “do what the Brothers tell you. Keep yourself out of trouble.” And at this she squeezes Delaney’s forearm as if silently reminding her to keep the tattoo out of sight. Then she draws the girl’s ear close to her mouth and whispers. “Not even to the other children. No one but Brother O’Brien. Show him as soon as you can to remind him who you are.”
Then she takes a step back.
“You’re a good child, Delaney. A good child. And your future is a strong one. Remember that.” Sister Mary Eunice’s eyes redden, and she fights back tears. But Delaney keeps searching the second story convent window where the girls are watching her departure, Sinead at the very front, hand pressed against the pane.
As the carriage pulls away Delaney turns in the seat so that she faces backward. She wants to seal into her memory the look of the convent and the girls as they shrink from view. She also does not want Brother Doyle to see her tears. She knows very little about boys, met some in her trips into town with the Sisters for supplies, but she’s certain they don’t cry. And now she must somehow live among this strange race. She spins around to the front, stares down at her feet and pulls the cap further down.
“It’ll be alright, lad.” Brother Doyle says putting a hand to Delaney’s knee. “You’ll come to like the other little gossoons at the orphanage. They may test you at first, but they’re good lads once you get to know them. I was one myself, if you can believe it. Underneath these pious robes I was no more than a street urchin like you when I came to the Brothers. But they put some sense into me, and I learned to respect them, even the strict ones.”
The brother drones on, giving an account of his life story, but Delaney picks up just bits and bobs of his monologue. She is lost in grief and in trying to peer into her foggy future. When the future is uncertain, one’s thoughts tend to paint in gloomy colors, imagining the worst.
After an hour or more they arrive in Drogheda. Lamplights have been lit as they amble through town. Everything is unfamiliar, and the chill air of twilight and the smoke from evening cook fires make the place appear ominous to Delaney.
They pass the massive brick Care Home and Delaney eyes the structure curiously. Its scale is grander than anything in Dunleer, even the great church. There are at least a dozen chimneys atop the five-story building belching smoke into the air.
“That’s the Murder Factory.” Brother Doyle says matter-of-factly. “Don’t pay it any mind. People who live there keep mostly to themselves. Odd as some of them appear the residents wouldn’t harm a flea. Don’t you believe half the things the lads tell you about the place.”
As they pass the Murder Factor a powerful fragrance overcomes Delaney. A pleasant one. It is something like the smell of sweet tobacco with traces of maple syrup and vanilla. The smell is so strong and calming for Delaney that it eases the feeling of dread that hangs over her heart. She turns to keep it in sight as long as she can until the trees block the view. She can still smell it, as though it lingers upon her clothes.
Not far from the Murder Factory the road turns upward a few degrees and they ascend a hill toward a stone building sitting at its crest. Brother Doyle smiles and nods up at it, then glances back at Delaney.
“There it is lad. Your new home.” And he pats her on her cap.
A knot forms in the child’s stomach with these words. When they pull up to the Friary an older man also dressed in Franciscan garb approaches.
“Good evening, Brother Doyle.” And turning to Delaney, “Welcome, young man. My name is Father Fitzpatrick.”
Delaney is in a frightful state as she considers the fact that she is at the mercy of a gang of strange men and boys. Her only sliver of hope is that someone called Brother O’Brien will know about her predicament and seek to give her protection. She snatches the note straight from the pocket in Brother Doyle’s robe.
“We were told to give this to Brother O’Brien.” She says abruptly. “I would like to give it to him now if you’ll take me to him.”
“Well, that may be difficult.” The Father says, smiling with arms outstretched to help the child out of the carriage. “Brother O’Brien has gone to England to visit relatives. He won’t be back for some time. But, not to worry. You’ll see that I am a quite capable reader of notes.” And the Father plucks the note from Delaney’s fingers as he lifts her to the ground.