Til Death Do Us Part And Even After That
A Story from Ireland
By Marina Rojas
Copyright 2011 Marina Rojas
CHAPTER ONE
The young couple living in the picture perfect house on the corner were well known and well liked by the community on Ross Street off of the Falls Road in Belfast.
They tended their gardens well, and kept their little rock fence clear of any unwanted overgrowth of weeds or stray leaves that might blow by on the windy days.
People that did not know them assumed they were a young married couple, while in truth they were brother and sister, living in the small home they had inherited at their parents’ demise.
Their parents, John and Rosalyn Conlon, had been excited to embark on a voyage of a lifetime aboard a new ocean liner out of Southampton, England. They had decided not to take their children Aidan and Roisin along for the journey since Aidan had just began his studies at the university while Roisin had been completing tasks with the local convent, deciding if the cloistered life was for her.
At the departure of the Conlons, their children stood on the dock looking skyward towards the big ship, searching for their parents’ faces. Waving furiously, hoping they would be seen in their enthusiasm; both Aidan and Roisin were already missing their two loving parents. Roisin had told Aidan she would be pleased only when she was back in her mummy’s arms again. As the big ship pulled away from dock, Aidan teased her about being a baby, and they turned to head home to Belfast.
The news of their parents’ fate had come to them about a week after the ship’s departure. A messenger had come around from the operators of the ship, and as Aidan read the message out loud they realized they both were now orphans, all alone in the world. Roisin was inconsolable, crying throughout the night and most of the next day.
The Conlon children went through all the dutiful and proper motions of dealing with their parents’ passing and were grateful to learn that their father had tied up all the legal loose ends involving any questions for inheritance before leaving on the fateful trip. Aidan thought his father may have been privy to a premonition about the voyage.
But his father’s foresight, for whatever reason, would mean that the brother and sister would stay in their childhood home, and they would stay together and support one another through their time of mourning.
Aidan quit his studies and began working at the local railway to support the household. Roisin removed herself from any responsibilities at the convent, dedicating her domestic talents towards keeping their little home neat as a pin.
In their own little community, the siblings lived in peace and tranquility. But, like all the others in Belfast, they were living amidst the troubling circumstances between those wanting Irish independence and those demanding loyalty to the King of England.
Aidan had gone to meetings organized by local representatives, and had actually joined the Sinn Féin. When he would come home, he would tell Roisin about everything that was said. He would assure her that things were not as bad as rumors made them out to be, and he would tell her over and over, “You know I will always be here for you,” he would ruffle her hair, “’Til death do us part.”
Roisin would tell him, “That’s a wedding vow, laddy,” to which Aidan would reply, “And a good vow for an older brother who plans to take care of his baby sister all the way through forever and a day.”
* * *
CHAPTER TWO
July 1921 brought times that were troubling to the Conlon siblings. Skirmishes were breaking out regularly with the Black and Tans and the Irish Republican Army.
The Black and Tans had developed a reputation of being vicious and cruel to the Catholic supporters, and what the Irish Republican Army termed as an ‘uncontrollable Catholic mob’ retaliated quickly and surely for the atrocities, real or rumored, that were committed in the name of the King.
Aidan would insist that Roisin would stay inside their home until he would return to work. She would explain that she would need to go outside, into the gardens, to tend to their vegetables and flowers. Aidan would admonish her, insisting that she stay inside with the doors and windows locked. He had seen others who were devastated over their women being violated by the Black and Tans
“Brother, please, I can take care of myself,” Roisin pleaded, “I will hide if the troops come near.”
“No, I am afraid you will not be diligent, my sister, once you are caught up in your tilling of your beloved garden. I would prefer that you wait until I return home from work,” Aidan was kind, but insistent.
He reminded her of the long rifle that was kept in the corner at the back of their front door.
“I want you to remember this, darling; it is always here for our protection. You must keep it in mind always, as some day it may be of use to you,” Aidan thought the presence of his father’s rifle would assure her.
“My dear Aidan, surely you realize that I could never touch that beastly thing!” scoffed Roisin, “That is only for the touch of a man, and I promise you will never see me near it, for heaven’s sake.”
Aidan smiled and told her, “As you may, my brave little sister. Just know, I will be here for you always, ‘til death do us part, and probably even after that.”
“Silly boy,” she giggled as she placed his lunch bucket in his hands. “Hurry home, may Saint Patrick grant you safe passage.”
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
On July 10th, Aidan came home early from work. He wore a worried look on his face as he dropped his lunch bucket on the kitchen table. Roisin tried to meet his eyes, but he would not look directly into her face.
“I’ll be going downtown to the meeting of the Sinn Féin today, Roisin. There have been lots of problems today with those cursed Black and Tans, and we’ve got to stand up to them,” Aidan’s voice was high pitched and he sounded nervous.
Roisin could tell there was something different in his demeanor and she begged him not to go.
“I can see the fires close by, Aidan. It’s bad this time, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s a fright,” Aidan said as he grabbed the rifle from behind the door.
“Oh, sainted mother,” Roisin barely caught her breath as she saw him grab the gun, “Aidan, please don’t go.” Her eyes begged him to stay.
“We’ll be alright, Ro,” he looked her directly in the eyes, “Don’t worry, we’ll all be alright.” He kissed her on the forehead, “And you know I’ll be back. I’ll be here to take care of you, ‘til death do us part and probably even after that.”
He grinned that familiar grin and Roisin couldn’t help but feel safe. “Be home soon. Dinner will be waiting.”
She watched him as he walked down their walkway to the streets. He was joined by a few of the neighbors and they began to walk downtown.
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
As the hours ticked by, Roisin spent the time praying for her brother and their neighbors and the safety of the Catholic people throughout Belfast.
After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the front door open and saw her brother come in, remove his cap and place the rifle in the corner behind the front door.
“Aidan? Are you ready to eat now?” She stood in the kitchen doorway looking at him. He looks exhausted, she thought.
He gave her a weak smile and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. Aidan shook his head no, and put his hand up as to signal ‘not now’, so she shook her head and told him, “Well, I’ll put you a plate in the oven for when you’re hungry later, then.”
Aidan seemed to be looking through her, but he nodded and went into his bed
room. She noticed he was being very quiet. It must have been a stressful meeting, she thought. She began to read her prayer book in silence so he could have some time to relax.
After about an hour passed, around the eight o’clock hour, someone came to their door with a loud knock. She waited to see if Aidan would answer it. She realized he might have fallen asleep after the long day.
When another loud rapping proved that Aidan was not going to come to answer their caller, Roisin cracked open the door to see who had come to see them so late.
“Oh, James, ‘tis you,” she sighed a breath of relief upon seeing Aidan’s best friend James Collins standing at the door. He removed his hat at her presence.
“Come in, come in, James,” as she ushered him into the little anteroom, she noticed through the darkness of the outside that Michael Brennan and his wife were standing behind him.
“Oh, my goodness, everyone, please come in, come in,” she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, “You’re so welcome here, please come in.”
As they walked in Roisin excused herself, “Let me get Aidan, just a moment, please. He’ll be glad to see you all here, he will be pleased you’ve stopped by.” She scarcely noticed the questioning looks they made between one another.
Roisin walked into Aidan’s room but he was not asleep on his bed, nor was he sitting in the reading chair.
She passed through the front room, feeling a little awkward at his absence.
“I’m sorry, please have a seat, I’ll get Aidan, he is not in his room. I’ll check out back,” she motioned to them to sit down in the parlor seats.
Mrs. Brennan put her hand on Roisin’s shoulder.
“Ro, darling, did not Aidan go to the meeting tonight?”
“Yes, he did, but he just recently returned. I will find him so we can enjoy your visit.”
James Collins stepped forward. “Miss Conlon, the meeting did not go well this afternoon. The RIC have been attacking Catholic homes all night, many homes have been burned, and so many of our people have lost their lives tonight.”
Roisin took in a deep breath. “Oh, my goodness, let me get Aidan, he’ll…he’ll want to know this,” she once again turned towards the back door to go get her brother.
“Well, Miss Conlon,” James Collins cleared his throat, “I’m afraid we’ve come to bring you the body of your brother. He was shot down tonight on his way home after the meeting. I’m sorry, it is truly a tragic loss. We’re so sorry. Mrs. Brennan will be staying with you…”
Roisin looked at him in confusion. “Oh, my dear Mr. Collins, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Aidan came home from the meeting about an hour ago. He did not leave again, please let me go and fetch him here.”
“Miss Conlon, I’m so sorry, Aidan was killed about an hour and an half ago. His body is in my wagon outside,” said Michael Brennan. “We brought him home to you. We’re so sorry for your loss.”
Roisin shook her head. “No, there’s been a mistake…”
Michael went on to say, “I’m also sorry to say that we couldn’t find his rifle anywhere, Miss Conlon. All the boys said he had it with him when they shot him down, but no one could find it. We figure the thieving Black and Tans took it. It was a fine weapon, Miss. I remember when I saw it with your father the first time.”
Roisin heard his words but could not believe what he was saying. She opened the front door and walked to the edge of their walkway.
The Brennan’s wagon was pulled up close. In the back something was covered with a white sheet. She reached over to pull the sheet down.
Aidan lay in the wagon, his body already cold.
Roisin walked into the house and looked at the people now standing in her front room. She realized what had happened.
“You couldn’t find his rifle Mr. Brennan,” she said as she pushed the front door shut, “because he brought it home to me.”
Everyone gasped as they say the rifle sitting in the corner.
“He kept his promise to me,” she said to no one in particular, “He made sure to take care of me ‘til death did us part. And even after that.”
* * *
About the Author
A child of the 60’s, Marina Rojas grew up in a family that was more crazy than dysfunctional, spending most of her time avoiding contact with other members of the same species at all costs. Reading her way through childhood, writing stories became a past time that allowed her to keep fond memories of times that were good and not so really great. All for prosperity and for the sake of being able to look back, laugh at it all and cheer “I made it!” in spite of it all.
A mother to four wonderfully productive members of society, grandmother to four perfect little angels, she delights in every moment with her family and thanks God for them daily.
Til Death Do Us Part and Even After That is based on a tale my mother told me about the happenings during the hard times she grew up in, in her beloved Ireland. I hope you enjoy it.
A Small Thank You
I would like to thank you for using some of your most precious time to read my story. My characters are manifestations of memories of some of my favorite people combined with my vivid imagination, so although they are reminiscent of some folks, they are truly figments of my over-active imagination.
I hope my stories bring you a little joy, perhaps a tinge of thoughtfulness with the interaction between the characters.