9 April, 1872
Mrs. Katherine O’Flaherty
1832 Washington st.
Boston, Massachusetts
USA
Dear Mum,
I hope and pray that this is the letter that you choose to open rather than another that Molly may later retrieve from the dustbin. Should you be further interested she will have most of the rest saved, but most will start out like this one. I love you and I miss you terribly. My only regret in the path that I have chosen for myself, however, is the rift it has caused between you and I.
I am at another moment where there are wondrous things afoot to share with you, and terribly confusing things that I do so wish that I had your advice to guide me. Since arriving in England I have encountered things spiritual that I can only say expand on the stories you told us as wee children. There is indeed all type of magic afoot. But most recently events have occurred that I have seen with my own eyes and felt which both support and refute that which the church has taught us. I can only say it outright and hope that think I have gone loony or heretic. I have seen what the prophets and saints must have called demons or devils, and I have seen and been touched by what they would call angels. All I will say at this time is that I know that they exist, but not in any way that I recognize Father Flanagan teaching us. This has made me question what little faith I once held in the things that was taught, and then the part that I have seen direct… how can one describe what one has seen directly as “faith”.
You may see me as a lost cause, dear Mother, but you are the only one I would completely trust to fully discuss faith and matter magical and spiritual with. I have recently met one other person who might have some understanding, but I fear she might think me a barking madman if I related what I have seen in the past year, and especially in the past few days.
Oh, and I have found some success recently
as well. Probably not as masterfully successful as James, but
the lucky coin you gave me has not only seen me through strange
and difficult times, it has brought me some comfort as well. I
take great care that I never am separated from it and that no
man ever steal it.
I miss you deeply. I still believe I am living the life I was
meant to.
Your son,
Seamus Michael
10 April, 1872
Mr. James O’Flaherty
1832 Washington st.
Boston, Massachusetts
USA
Dear Jimmy-boy,
It has been a few weeks since I last wrote to you, but you have always been in my thoughts and heart. Give my love to Anna and little Esther, and to Molly as well. I have treasured each letter from home. I still wonder at the great things happening in Boston.
Jimmy, You know that I have been telling you that I have done fairly well for myself in England. Well, wonderous fortune has fallen in my lap beyond anyone’s expectation. And before fate has found out, I want to put some of it where it will do some good. I am sending a sum of money your way, in fact it may have arrived before this letter. Here is the long explanation then. This is to be divided amongst you fairly. One share is for you and Anna. One share is for Esther and any other nieces or nephews that come after. One share shall be for Molly, in the hopes that either with a proper dowry she might attract a man strong enough to brave or at least sidestep Mother, or she has a means of living comfortably on her own should she remain a spinster and something happen, Heaven forbid, that she be separated from the comforts of family. One share shall be for Mother, but of course she would not accept it from me. I’ll just ask that you put it away for her share and when it pays its dividends, you give her something nice or take her somewhere.
It would be best if everyone just put their trust in the advisors that I will be contacting on your behalf from my own. You will be receiving an amount of money that could easily be frittered away quickly with extravagances, or could keep you comfortable for a lifetime off of the “interests” of that amount saved and a rate that a successful merchant should be expected to bring home (were it not for that outrageous taxing nonsense you mentioned, this ought to put a stick in their eye, eh?) Perhaps my luck will continue and Mum will come around, and there will be no more sneaking about around my success. Or maybe this great success will disappear as so many other great treasures have, and I may rely on your generosity. I do know that I can’t imagine drinking, gambling, or celebrating this recent turn of events away in a lifetime, but I’ve been wrong before, have I not?
I know that you will put this to good use, Jimmy. Be well.
Your brother,
Seamus
Proceed to A foul, foul
creature
This page copyright 2004 by C.D. Woodbuty. All Rights Reserved.