Chapter 18
Saturday morning came much too early for me. Sam and Matt were up earlier than I expected. I heard their laughter and their footfalls on the stairs and opened one eye to look at the bedside clock: 8:15 AM. I tried to pull the sheets over my head and ignore their noises. They were old enough to be up without me for an hour or so, but then the dreaded sounds came. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”
Oh, My Goodness!! Why did it have to be SpongeBob blaring out of the TV? I could tune out almost anything else short of fire alarms and emergency sirens, but SpongeBob was a sound more hideous than nails on the blackboard.
I threw off the covers and blindly grabbed my robe. I felt my way down the stairs to the kitchen and the most glorious invention - the coffeemaker. Soon despite my vision and brain function problems, there was a wonderful aroma of roasted beans and brewed coffee filling the air. I inhaled deeply. The smell of the coffee was almost as good for the soul as that first sip of manna from heaven would be. I smacked my lips in silent expectation. Delicious!
As I sat at the kitchen table sipping my first cup of coffee, my mind went over the unexpected dreams that had filled my sleep. I had dreamed of Cara and Douglas. That was understandable since I had read those letters right before I went to sleep. I told myself that making up their story and playing it out in my subconscious was natural.
What still gave me pause in these lucid dawn hours was that it had been my face that was also Cara’s, and I had looked at Heath when I looked upon Douglas. I took this to mean that I was more messed up in the head and the heart than I had previously thought.
I knew what had to be done. I had to find out about Cara and Douglas. I needed to know what happened between them and why Douglas had left her alone. I needed to track down Jacob and Claire and find out what had happened to them back in Ireland. I needed to know how these people’s stories connected to my family… to me. I could not explain why, but I had to know. I could not let them rest in death. I had to bring them back to life first; for some reason, I believed that their story was not yet finished.
Later that same Saturday afternoon while Matt and Sam were shooting hoops in the backyard, I pulled out the phone book and looked up the name that had plagued my mind since firming up my resolve earlier in the morning. My finger ran down the listings until I came to the name: Savannah Historical & Genealogical Society.
I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed the number. Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Click.. Damn, it was the answering machine. “You have reached the offices of the Savannah Historical & Genealogical Society. We are closed today in preparation for our annual fundraiser. We are sorry for any inconvenience. Please leave your name, number, and your message. Someone will contact you as soon as possible. Thank you.”
Beep. “Hello. My name is Miranda Hannigan. I am calling because I have found some family letters dating from the early 1800s. I would like some help tracing the history of the people mentioned in these letters: Cara and Douglas MaKinna. I need to find out where they came from, who they were, what happened to them, and how they are connected to my family. Please call me at 912-660-1815. I look forward to hearing from you.” I disconnected and hung up the phone.
“Oh, well, it seems that I am destined to be delayed on this at every turn,” I declared.
Before I was even able to get up from the table to put the phone book away, the handset rang. Hum..I wonder who that could be. “Hello.”
A woman’s voice spoke clearly over the line. “Is this Miranda Hannigan?”
“Yes, I am. Who is this?”
There was a smile in the voice on the line, “My name is Kelly Burton. I work at the Savannah Historical & Genealogical Society.” There was a pause and then, “I got your message and had to call right away.”
I chuckled at her excitement, for it mirrored my own. “That’s an understatement. I guess the office wasn’t closed after all.”
Kelly answered ruefully, “Not closed for staff, just visitors. We’re busy getting the place in tip top shape for our annual fundraiser later in the week. There are still a thousand details to attend to.”
I nodded because I understood the number of details that went into hosting a large scale fundraiser. “I understand and sympathize, but what I’m wondering is why you took the time to call me back and so quickly.”
“Well, Ms. Hannigan.”
“Please call me, Miranda. Mrs. Hannigan is my mother,” I joked.
“Sure, Miranda. The thing is your message intrigued me. You said you found some family letters from the 1800s?”
“Yes, that’s right. My son and I were in the attic going through some old trucks. I found a carved wooden box, and inside that box were five letters written in 1815, and then the last one in 1841. I just read the letters late last night, and I was compelled to find out more.”
Kelly answered in understanding, “I can understand the impulse. I love discovering stories from the past. It seems to live and breathe for me. I feel that it’s as real as what I see when I look out the window.”
I grunted, “That’s just it, you see. I have never felt this drawn to history. I don’t even know that much about my grandfather, who died before I was born. No one ever really sat down and talked to me about him, and I guess, I just never asked. What difference did it make now? But these letters, I have to know. I feel as if my life is somehow tied to the story of these people. This must sound crazy, but there it.”
There was silence on the line followed by a whisper, “I don’t think you’re crazy. When can you bring the letters over so we can get started?”
“You’re going to help me?”
There was a thin laugh over the line, “Of course. I would have helped you in any case, but I had a dream about a man last night…. His name was Jacob, and he was with a woman he called Cara, which is why I definitely do not think you are crazy, and I hope you can give me the same sanity endorsement.”
I gasped. “Oh, my gosh! Do you know who Jacob is?”
With a rush of excitement, Kelly asked, “No, do you?”
“Of course! It’s in one of her letters. Jacob is her brother. He brought Cara to America, to New York, after their parents died. From the letters it sounds as if he left her with some relations there, and he returned to Ireland to take care of their little sister, Claire!”
Kelly squealed. “This is so exciting! I can’t believe this is happening!”
“Me either, Are you busy tonight?’
“NO! When can you come over?”
“How about 6:00 PM?”
I heard the rustle of paper, and I assumed that Kelly was checking her calendar. Then her voice broke over the line. “That’s great. We should finish up here about four, and then I can run home for a break and meet you back here at 6.”
“Thank you so much, Kelly. How about I bring dinner?”
“That sounds even better. We’ll make a regular party out of it.”
I smiled, “Great. I’ll see you later then. Thanks for this, Kelly.”
There was a pause; Kelly answered somewhat cryptically, “I think perhaps I am the one who should be thanking you. I think this is what I have been waiting for my entire life. I’ll see you later.” Then the line went dead. I held the phone briefly before I dropped it back into the deck. Just what did she mean? Had I been waiting for this myself? It certainly felt that way. Lately it seemed as though my life had been a series of misfortunes, but perhaps they were simply steps in the road that led me here.
If my Nanna had not died, I would not have been gifted the house. If I had not married Flynn, I would not have had Sam. If I had not rebuilt the house remaking it into a home for a family, Sam and I would not have been in the attic searching for family heirlooms, and I would not have found the letters. Was my shambles of a life really the perfect course that I was supposed to be on?
I put the phone book back in its place on the shelf and looked out the backdoor to ch
eck on the boys. They were still playing, laughing, shooting hoops, and pretending to be sports stars. It was such a special time of life, to be a child full of hope and faith in the future. When had I lost mine?
I sighed and called Missy. I needed my oldest girlfriend for a laugh and for a favor.