\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1894884-Magical-Maggie-ODwyer
Item Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1894884
Kind woman keeps husband in control and helps neighborhood children.
¬



It was her favorite time of the day; the peaceful quiet of the early morning, before the family woke and the day became a noisy scramble of children, laundry, errands, meals, homework, and her volunteer work at the children’s school, of which in 1963 there was only one high school and one grammar school. All Maggie’s school-age children were in public school, but there were still a few of the younger ones home with her, which meant that a good deal of supervision and volunteering was involved. It was Valentine’s Day and she smiled as she put little boxes of candy on the table for each of her daughters, knowing her sons would be embarrassed if she put one out for them.



The morning was like all the others in her married life, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her husband would be up soon to get a shower in peace before there would be banging on the door and shouts about needing to get in there right away! She sipped her coffee enjoying the last minute of quiet, when there was a loud banging on a different door, the side door that entered into the kitchen from the big stoop her husband had built the previous spring and for which he was still very proud. It was the entrance that family and neighbors used, but who would be calling this early?



At first her heart skipped a beat, an unannounced caller this time of day had to be bad news, but then she figured it must be a neighbor needing to borrow milk or something for breakfast. It was a very close-knit neighborhood of small houses on blocks that dead-ended on a wooded area with a paved pathway the children from the blocks took to school every day. It was a neighborhood where everyone knew their neighbors pretty well and looked out for each other’s kids, and it wouldn’t be unheard of for a neighbor to be knocking on her door in search of milk, or something else needed for the morning routine.



As she neared the door, however, she saw two uniform policemen standing there with the red light on top of their car revolving in the background. Now her heart really did skip a beat and she was frightened. She quickly did an inventory of her large brood and once satisfied that they were all home, especially her husband, John Francis O’Dwyer, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door, opening it wide so the policemen could enter the warm kitchen.

“Are you Maggie O’Dwyer?”

“Yes sir, but God save us, what is wrong? Is someone hurt?”

“Well first we need to ask you a few questions. Is your husband at home, Mrs. O’Dwyer?”

“Of course he is, but t’is very cold out there and you gentlemen must be wanting a little warmth in ye, now. What would ye say to a cup a coffee?” Maggie didn’t like that they were looking for her husband John; that man was wonderful but he could find ways to get himself into trouble while sitting in Church.

As the men were taking seats at the kitchen table, John came out of the shower. He had his pants and undershirt on, fortunately, Maggie thought to herself, as there were times when he would prance out in his boxers and a bit of the devil in him. His hair was wet from the shower and a little shaving cream still on his chin making him look even more prankish than usual, and the police in town knew just how prankish John O’Dwyer could get.

“Good morning, Mr. O’Dwyer, how are you this morning?”

“I’ll be doing a fine lot better when I find out what two policemen are doing sitting at my kitchen table, drinking me darlin’ wife’s fine coffee, sir.”

By now several of the O’Dwyer children had awakened and were slowly filling up the kitchen. Two of the older ones were trying to keep the younger children from coming all the way down the stairs into the kitchen, but those who slept on the first floor had a definite advantage and various sized heads sprouting different colors of hair were peaking around corners or up from under beautiful stuffed chairs by the big fireplace in the large country kitchen.

The O’Dwyer house was beautiful, that was not debatable. Regardless of how you felt about the individuals who lived within this seemingly magical house you could not ignore its magnificently spiritual effect on whoever entered its door. It certainly never seemed to be of this place and time, well that’s what all the people in the town of Periwinkle, New Jersey said anyway.

Aware that the children were gathering by leaps and bounds the older officer looked at this blustering man, O’Dwyer, who often needed an escort home after the pubs closed, and asked,

“ “Do you know a man named Frank White?”

“Of course, he lives down the block, and I make it a habit of knowing me neighbors. Don’t you? But sir, why would you be asking about Mr. Frank White on this fine morning? Is he in trouble?”

“Is he a relative of yours? How do you know him?” The same policeman continued to ply him with questions in spite of the lofty, wordy way of speaking John O’Dwyer had about him. The younger officer sat quietly looking around and drinking his coffee. There was no doubt his eye was on one of the still warm pastries on the table but he knew better than to take one without being offered, and even then his Lieutenant might not be happy if he accepted. He was trying to figure out exactly how many children lived in this house and wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation going on around him.

“As I asked before, sir, is the man in trouble?” O’Dwyer didn’t seem too keen to answer the officer’s questions, which the older man began to find irritating.

“And why would you assume he was in trouble, rather than, maybe he came into money or was in an accident, for instance.”

From various corners of the house there were sounds of some tittering and little feet running overheard while older sisters and brothers were shushing the younger siblings so they all didn’t get in trouble. At the same time John O’Dwyer realized that his children were indeed listening and he needed to get to the bottom of this if anyone was going to get where they were meant to today

The children were under strict instructions not to go near Frank White or his house, although they were always to be kind to his four children and Maggie did bring the poor waifs up to their house for dinner on ocassion. The poor little things looked like they hadn’t had a good home cooked meal in many months, and the youngest didn’t have the brains God gave her, but it was her good fortune that she had Maggie O’Dwyer looking after her from four houses down. And it was Maggie O’Dwyer’s long arm of goodness that made sure the other neighbors kept an eye on that poor child and the other three that lived in that shambles of a house. He didn’t have a good feeling at all where that White man was concerned, not at all, at all.



Maggie was now upset and worried. She didn’t like saying too much without knowing what was going on, but knowing Frank, she knew it could be almost anything. She insisted that they tell her why they were there, and how they got her and her husband’s name.

“Mr. White was found dead in his car early this morning in the parking lot of the hospital where he works…”

“My God,” Maggie cried, “what happened to him? The Saints be with the poor man, how did he die?”

“The Saints be with him?” John asked. “The Saints would be wise to keep a good distance from Frank White if they want to keep their place in heaven, they would.”

“Behave yourself, John, the poor man has met his Maker.”



“We don’t have that information at this time, Mrs. O’Dwyer,” the younger, and nicer, officer broke in, hoping to avoid another display of Irish theatre. He had often wondered if the O’Dwyers had ever seen the shores of Ireland, even from a distance. They and their family before them were known in Periwinkle for generations, and yet they all seemed to sound and act as if they just stepped off the boat from County Cork, and of course no one ever challenged them.

“Does Mr. White have a wife and children?”

“ Uh, I think you mean didn’t Mr. White have a wife and children?” John laughed and was kind of pleased to hear the giggles from the distance, while Maggie just gave him one of the looks he often shared with those same little ones.

“His wife passed away several years ago, and yes, he has four children,” she replied, trying to bring some civility back to the discussion. “They live down the street. Oh what about the children? What will happen to the little ones?”

“I don’t know, are they related to you or anything?”

“Their dear mum was my cousin, why do you ask?”

“ We found a note in Mr. White’s wallet that said if anything happened to him you should be notified to care for his children.”

“Oh no you don’t. Frank White don’t get off dying and leaving his brood to me. Last I heard you cannot write a will leaving 3 and 1/2 kids to your neighbor, cousin or no cousin.”

“John O’Dwyer, you stop it this minute. I will not have you speaking of that poor little child like that, and in front of our own children. How could you? What kind of Christian example are you setting for our dear little ones speaking of another of God’s children in that manner? Now I want you to gather our wee ones up and get breakfast for them while I accompany these kind policemen down to the White house and tell the children about their dear Dad.”

“You are right, Maggie, as usual. I am sorry for speaking so cruelly. Those children have had a big loss today and I shouldn’t be making light of it. Do all you children hiding in the woodwork and behind the walls hear me?” And he stomped off calling so many names that the two police officers couldn’t believe there were really that many children living in that one house.

When the police car pulled out of the O’Dwyer driveway Maggie asked the officer to turn off the red lights so as not to frighten the White children. As they pulled into the driveway of broken cement with weeds growing between the cracks, it was hard not to notice that the house was in total disrepair, with grass as high as the windows. One officer commented that it looked as if no one lived there, then cringed in fear of the tongue lashing the woman in the back seat might give him for his insensitive remark. Instead of that, however, she surprised him with a tone of kindness and understanding.

“It is sad to realize that some people live like this, isn’t it Officer? Especially when they are children too young to know how to make things better or sometimes to even know that there is anything wrong with what they have. It is the role of the adult to teach the children what is acceptable and what is unacceptable in the ways of life, which is why I sometimes get upset with my husband John. He is a good man, as I am sure you know, but has a tendency to get a little carried away with the children and I occasionally have to bring him back to reality.”

Maggie saw two heads pop up behind the dirty lace curtain in the living room and realized the children were aware of the police car in their driveway and must be wondering what was wrong.

“If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would let me go in and tell the children myself, and then you can join me in, say ten minutes. Would that be alright?”

The older officer spoke up, “We wouldn’t think of doing it any other way. And if I don’t get a chance to say so later, Mrs. O’Dwyer, it has been a pleasure to meet you.”

“How nice of you to say so, Officer Peters. I’ll have to remember to tell your mother what a nice man you are when I see her at the library next week. And I will mention to your mother, Officer Johnson, that you understood my husband very well and very fast, so perhaps she needs to keep an eye on you.”

Maggie smiled at the expressions on the officers’ faces, a combination of a little boy just praised, while at the same time wondering if he is about to be ratted out by someone. “Oh don’t worry I am only teasing. You look like a nice young man, and as I said, you couldn’t do better than turn out like my Johnny.”

Maggie got out of the car and was halfway to the house before either officer could get out to help her. They were sitting in the front seat looking at each other with puzzled, yet pleased expressions on their faces.

“How do you think she knew our names?” the younger officer asked. “We aren’t wearing name tags and I know we didn’t get a chance to introduce ourselves.”

“She’s a very nice lady, isn’t she?” his partner commented.

“Well, yes, but I’ve heard some stories…”

“Oh don’t let the town gossip get to you. You’ve met her now, and talked to her, did she look like she had any special powers, or anything else that would be considered strange?”

“No, but my sister told me that she saw her at the pediatrician’s office with a few of her younger children, and after she left the doctor just stood there shaking his head and mumbled something like, ‘If I live to be a 100 I’ll never figure that woman out.’ What could that mean?”

The older officer laughed and said, “It could mean anything. For instance maybe he can’t figure out why she stays with her husband, or why she has so many kids. I wouldn’t draw conclusions about that.”

“Well then, why do you think there are no birth certificates for any of those children filed with the County? Or why the church has no Baptismal records? How can you explain those two things?”

“I can’t but I’ve never given it much thought either. Maybe they don’t like busy bodies checking into their business so they don’t file things. Did you think of that?”

“Ha…”

***

Meanwhile, Maggie was aware of the fact that it was not quite 7:30 in the morning as she approached the front steps of the White family’s house bearing the terrible news that would change these children’s lives forever. Carefully she made her way up the broken cement blocks that made do for steps and knocked on the door that Maggie was sure hadn’t seen a coat of paint for as long as Frank White lived in the place.

She herself hadn’t stepped inside since her dear cousin, Maureen, had passed on, God Bless her, but she would often walk down and from the driveway call to the children to come out to her and then bring them to her own home for good food, hot baths, and an occasional check of the head for lice, and not necessarily in that order. There was just something about that horrible man that made Maggie want to stay away from him; truth be known he scared her terribly.

Maggie knocked again, harder this time, figuring the children might be afraid to open the door, considering the police car was still in their driveway. Well, it was up to her to bring this horrible reality to these wee ones, she sighed, so that she must do.

“ Mary Alice, Donald, Rory, and Gracie, you wee little one, come open the door for your poor Aunt Maggie. It is very cold out here, please let me in.”

“Is that really you Aunt Maggie?” The voice was very weak and very young that called back to her.

“Of course it is me you silly child. It is your own Aunt Maggie out here freezing her tuchish off. Now do you really want your Aunt Maggie to freeze her tuchish off on your front stoop with two coppers watching?”

The door came swinging wide in an instant and three giggling children fell into the woman’s arms wondering if she really could freeze her tuckish off. Maggie entered the house and took off her coat and scarf, realizing how cold it was inside as well. She turned on the oven to warm up the kitchen and turned to see the same three children standing in a row looking at her. It was clear they were concerned about her presence at their house so early in the morning, a house she hadn’t been in for many years.

“Okay children, settle down. Now tell me, where is that little Gracie hiding? I always thought she lived in this house with the rest of you hooligans.”

“You know she does, she lives here with us, she’s just so small we can’t always see her,” laughed Donald, the oldest boy, who at 9 assumed much of the responsibility around the house and who loved his sister Gracie more than he could even express. He knew she was a special gift from God because she was so tiny and had such special needs to survive, but mostly because, as he always said, when he looked into her eyes he was sure he could see God. He always called her his magical person, which Maggie thought was prophetic in some way, although she could never say why. It was just some mystical feeling she got whenever she was around the little girl, always with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face, but unable to put together the simplest of sentences or understand the easiest instructions. She had to be mystical to be so beautiful, whimsical, lovable and loved, yet be so simple of mind and spirit at the same time; what else could be the reason?

Maggie was not unfamiliar with mystical feelings, in fact if she told any of the neighbors or townspeople about the feelings she got as she walked through town and spoke to some of the shopkeepers or their customers, they’d want to put her in a home, she was sure of that. It had happened to her Grandmother, after all, everyone was sure she had some power over the town and she brought bad luck to people she didn’t like. What they didn’t realize was that if they would have just paid attention to what her Grandmother said they would have spared themselves so much grief and misery. Maggie knew this, and knew she could help others make decisions that would positively affect their lives, but she didn’t dare try to tell them that. Good Lord, she couldn’t even get her husband to listen to her.

Gracie popped up from behind the large pile of newspapers that looked rather precarious leaning against the wall. “Here me! Me!” Donald picked her up and held her on his lap, and Maggie could see that the children were waiting to hear why she was there. Their already difficult life was about to become more difficult and she shouldn’t put off telling them for even one more minute. Once again she felt the electrical current run through her and she was sure that she was being given a message that these children’s were special in some way and needed to be saved to fulfill their destiny.

Maggie told the children to settle down and find a place to sit so she could have a serious discussion with them. As they moved things that were piled on chairs or made some room on the floor to sit, she looked around and was aghast at what she saw. Maggie knew the place wasn’t kept up, she’d heard that from many others who’d been inside for various reasons, but never did she imagine it would be this bad. She knew her own children could keep their house better than this, but they had to be taught how to do that first. Maggie felt bad when she remembered that her own dear cousin died within a year of giving birth to her youngest and never had the chance to teach her children even the most basic things in life.

“Now children,” Maggie started as she scooped little Gracie onto her own lap, wondering if this poor child would ever know what happened on this day, or any other day in her life. “ Those two fine policemen brought me down here today because they brought a message for me to share with you. Do you understand that?”

“Sure,” said Donald, always the first to speak up. “That means there’s some bad guy and the bad guy wants to come and rob us or something and the cops, they want us to set up a trap for the bad guys so they can put them in jail, right?”

“No, dear boy, but that is a good story. You could write a book about something like that. No, the message is about your daddy. You know he goes to work at night, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the 12-year-old Mary Alice spoke up in the quietest of voices. “He leaves here very early in the morning, around 2 o’clock or something, and goes to the big hospital where they have all kinds of crazy people and bad guys who are crazy and he watches them.”

“Rory, the six-year old boy who had been quiet since Maggie entered the house, now stood up as if called on in school and very quietly said, “Yeah, Dad said he was going to give one guy our address so he could come here when he’s at work and we’re sleeping and if we aren’t being good then the bad guy will hurt or kill us, then he’d go back and Dad would give him more food that day. But he’d only hurt or kill the one that was being bad. Right Donald, isn’t that what he said?”

Maggie’s heart was breaking as she listened and watched this poor little boy tell her what his father threatened to do if they weren’t good while he was at work, when he shouldn’t have been leaving them alone in the first place. Rory looked like his bones were going to poke through his filthy skin any minute, and his bloodshot eyes had big dark bags beneath them. He’s probably too afraid to let himself sleep in case the bad man came to kill them, Maggie thought, wondering what lasting damage had been done to these children.

“What happened to Mrs. Traxler, the woman that stayed with you at night when your father went to work? Doesn’t she come anymore?”

“No, Aunt Maggie, they had a fight and Dad told her to get out. You know how he can get when he’s angry. It’s not that we liked her so much, but at least she did certain things for him so I didn’t have to.”

Maggie’s blood ran cold. What was this sweet girl telling her? Was this monster touching her, abusing her, doing anything sexual to this child? If so, then she wished he was still alive so she could kill him herself, only this time in a much more painful way, God forgive her these thoughts.

“What kind of things are you talking about, Mary Alice? What didn’t you like to do?”

“I can’t talk about it now, the children are here and they shouldn’t be hearing this kind of stuff. They are too young,” she barely whispered her answer.

And since when is a 12-year-old no longer young? Maggie was sick at the thought of what this terrible man had done to rob the childhood from these children. At that moment Maggie made a promise to God, and their poor dead mother that she would make sure they were taken care of properly, if she had to do it herself.

‘Why didn’t I get more involved in these children’s lives? If I had pushed all the times I tried to get the county to intervene maybe they would have been spared some of the trauma they’ve experienced. It was my responsibility to save these children and I didn’t, God forgive me.’

Maggie waved the two police officers into the house so she could discuss the children’s options since she didn’t know if there were any laws that would cover this kind of situation or who would decide where they would go.

The two men took off their hats as they entered the room, which was already pretty crowded with Maggie and the four children, along with all the clutter and several pieces of furniture much too large for a room that size. The older man could not help but wince at the filth and obvious health hazards surrounding these children, while the younger man gagged from the odors and hurried back out to the cold air. To his credit, the more experienced office did not call out any belittling comments or sarcastic remarks but instead went outside and told his junior partner that he wasn’t the only one who got ill the first time he came upon a situation as disgusting as this one. And this one was that much more difficult because there were four children living there.

“But we do have to get back in there and give Mrs. O’Dwyer some assistance and then figure out what to do with all these children. You up for it?”

“Yes, sir. I am sorry about that. I never dreamed children were living worse off than some animals in kennels. It sickens me.”

The four children demonstrated very little emotion at the news that their father had died, which caused Maggie and the two police officers to think that they were either in shock and didn’t understand what they were being told or that they really didn’t feel anything at the loss. It was understandable that Gracie might not understand it all, but the three older children should have experienced some emotion, whether it was sadness, joy, relief or rage wouldn’t have mattered but Maggie thought that it wasn’t healthy that they felt nothing.



****



Maggie decided to bring the children home so she could get her own family on their way for the day and still look after her new little charges. She kept her oldest daughter home to help her get everything done, but most of all to keep an eye on her own little ones while she concentrated on the newest additions to the already large, often rowdy and never boring group of children she had accepted responsibility for. How many more was she going to be given to care for, and how many more was John Frances O’Dwyer going to welcome into his home.

It took a few hours for Maggie to get the children fed, washed, shampoed and dressed in clean clothes from her children’s closets. Fortunately, she had clothes that fit almost every size and shape child so dressing the four children was no problem. It was going to be a long and difficult day and Maggie was not going to have these four little darlin’s face the world, and their future, in dirty and ragged clothes.

The two police officers, in the meantime, were trying to track down someone from Social Services, which took them until early afternoon. The four newly orphaned children sat around the table at Maggie’s house while she cooked them a warm and healthy lunch, waiting for the Social Worker to arrive and figure out where they would go for the night. Ever time she looked at the four children her heart beat an extra few beats and again she knew she was receiving a message about how special these children were, or would be in the future. Whenever she looked at the youngest, Gracie, she saw a twinkle in the little girl’s eye and a smile on her face, a face that before had always been without emotion or affect.

Mary Alice, the oldest, seemed to understand what was going on and that their lives would change drastically, even though she couldn’t begin to know how or when. She knew her Aunt Maggie’s house and always loved coming here, but it was always a place you came to and then went home. Although she knew Aunt Maggie wasn’t planning to send her home, that’s why they were waiting for the government woman, as her father used to call the social worker that came to their home once in a while.

It worried her that their future was going to be left up to a government woman, after all the one who came to their house once in a while would go into her father’s bedroom with him and talk. Mary Alice didn’t know what they talked about but when they came out their father would smile and tell her she was doing a good job taking care of the other kids so they didn’t need any help.

“Right, Mary Alice,” he would say in his loud, demanding voice. “You and me, we got everything under control, don’t we kiddo.” He would usually put his arm around her skinny shoulders and Mary Alice wondered why the lady didn’t notice how she pulled away and didn’t want to be touched by him. She came to think that was the normal reaction a child has when their parent touches them, after all if it wasn’t wouldn’t someone do something?

The woman, they never did hear her name, would then always make a big fuss over telling the children how good they were and how proud she was of them helping around the house, like she was their mother or something. She had no right to be proud or anything else of them Mary Alice thought.

***

John Francis O’Dwyer had decided he needed to be close to home this day, there was no telling what his dear wife would commit him and his household to if he went off to work. Anyway, it was Valentine’s Day, a good a day as any to take off. And of course he was expected at the pub this evening so if he were going to help his dear wife at all it would have to be during the day.

In fact, while Maggie had been cleaning and feeding the orphans, as John referred to them, he had taken himself out of her way and down to McGinty’s, a local pub where he was quite well known by name and reputation. By the time he got home, just before the social worker arrived as luck would have it, the whole town knew about what happened to that no-good White, and what a wonderful man John Francis O’Dwyer was for insisting that his saintly wife, Maggie, bring those little darlings into his own house to care for until other arrangements could be made.

“It’s a shame I cannot take them in myself, ye hear,” he was overheard saying to Bill, the daytime bartender. “And I would ye know, but how much can I ask my poor Maggie to do, what with all the children she already has to take care of, and with another one on the way!”

Of all the calls Maggie received that afternoon about the children, some just out of interest, others from concern and offers of help, the one that disturbed her the most was from Bil, the bartender’s wife, asking her if it was true that she was having another baby.

“My dear Maggie, I could hardly believe my ears when Bill told me that you are expecting another. Exactly how many does that make? How will you handle it all, my dear?”

Maggie refrained from telling her it was none of her business how many children were in their household, or how many she had delivered. This was something she knew no one would ever understand. As it is they had all passed judgment and they think we are a ‘normal’ family, she thought as tried to interest the White children in game or some kind of activity, but clearly the concept of playing was foreign to these frightened children.

Thinking of how to handle her husband when he came home expecting dinner, Maggie’s temper was short, although as usual she would never let one of the children see how she felt.

‘Could that man not keep his mouth shut for anything?’ she thought. She wasn’t even going to tell him yet, but he knew all the signs of her pregnancies and on the second day she threw up before he left for work he guessed that she didn’t have a stomach flu and that she was pregnant once again. If only birth control wasn’t a sin; after all no one could say that she hadn’t done her share of keeping the population sprinkled with Irish Catholics. And forget about the allowed method of ‘rythmn,’ there was no way John Francis O’Dwyer was going to have someone telling him when he could and couldn’t make love with his wife, not even the Pope.

Maggie didn’t mind having a lot of children, she just preferred not having to experience the pregnancy or the delivery. She loved all her children equally, it didn’t matter to her at all how they came to live there, and she was pretty sure John couldn’t tell one child from another so he never distinguished between them. She would have been happy to keep the children at her house but her dear husband John had real serious concerns and objections to that plan. Of course he didn’t realize that he put his calm family life and predictable future in jeopardy when he gave Bill the bartender the idea that his family would be growing by one sometime in the near future.

He walked into his house around 6 p.m., feeling a little flush from the few rounds of drinks he was treated to each time he told the story of poor Frank White, who during the course of the day had gone from that slimy drunk to the poor bastard who left the sad little children orphans. Expecting to have a nice warm meal before doing the evening rounds for Valentine’s Day, he was quite surprised when he didn’t smell food cooking in the kitchen as it usually was at this hour of the evening, no children were setting the table as they were supposed to, and his very angry wife Maggie was sitting on one of the dining room chairs with of glass of wine before her, which alone was a foreign enough sight to worry him. If there was anything predictable about Maggie O’Dwyer it was that alcohol of any kind didn’t pass her lips. To see her sitting there with a full glass of red wine in front of her, and none of the usual household activities taking place, was such a shock to John that he rushed over to make sure that everything was alright and she and their children were not sick or hurt in any way.

“It depends on what you would define as okay, John. Do you mean are we healthy, yes. No broken bones or stitches in the O’Dwyer family today. But if you are asking if I am all right emotionally, then the answer is a definite NO! I am anything but fine, in fact I am down right furious, which makes me upset, and that always makes me sad. I don’t like to have these negative feelings. As you know, John, they are not very Christian and I feel that I have failed to keep my temper, as I should. But I will go to confess this to Father Flaherty, don’t you worry. But first I will explain to you why I am so upset, because I know you will never figure it out for yourself. You would need an ounce of sensitivity for that.”

“Well,” John asked very quietly, “if everyone is okay, then where are they all, the children I mean.”

“Which children, the ones we already have, the ones you insisted I bring home today, or the one we are going to have any day now? Which do you mean?”

“Uh, I don’t know what you are talking about, dear. Of course I am talking about the children we already have, what others would I be talking about. Well I guess I could have meant the poor little White children; my heart has been breaking for them all day.”

“All day or between the rounds of drinks at the bar? I’ve heard about your telling tall tales at McGinty’s.”

“Well truth be known I did tip me elbow a few times today, just thinking about poor White and the wee orphans just…”

“Oh cut it out, John Francis O’Dwyer, I don’t want to hear the blarney coming out of your mouth right now. You told Bill that I am pregnant before I have even accepted the idea myself. Now the whole town knows and is talking about it. How could you?” Maggie tried not to cry but the tears began to run down her face, a truly rare and terrible sight in this usually happy home.

“I’m sorry my sweet Maggie. It sort of slipped out when everyone was asking me if we were keeping the White children, but that fool Bill didn’t have to run home to tell his wife. It wasn’t town news, just talk between friends. I didn’t want him to think we were being selfish so I mentioned our hearts and home were full with children already, soon to be overflowing. Forgive me my love, I didn’t think.”

“No, you never do. Well, Mr. O’Dwyer, the children are upstairs…”

“All of them? I don’t hear anything coming from up there. Are you sure they are alright?”

“Yes, they are fine. I threatened them with the wrath of God unless they all stayed up there and the older children kept the younger ones quiet and out of trouble, and I guess they heard me. Now you are going to take your children out to dinner, I don’t care where, and not return with them for at least one hour, at which time you will get the younger one’s ready for bed.”

“What are you going to do, sweet Maggie? You are drinking wine, this is so unlike you, are you alright?”

“I am upset, so I am going to take my glass of wine in our room and have some peace and quiet for the rest of the evening while I think about all that has happened today. Tomorrow I have to meet with the social worker and discuss where the White children should live, but I don’t want to talk about that with you until tomorrow.”

The idea of taking all these children somewhere to eat was beyond anything he could imagine, especially the very young ones and that White kid who was worse than a baby. He didn’t even know if she knew how to eat, after all don’t these kids have to be taken care of all the time. He climbed the steps slowly and found Mary Alice and his oldest daughter, Mary Elizabeth, who were both 12 and looked a lot like each other, sitting with a few of the younger ones in the nursery.

“Well, I guess I’m taking you all to dinner somewhere. Do you girls have any suggestions as to where we can go that will let us all in, the babies and your little sister, too?” he asked, looking at the two girls both dressed in Mary Elizabeth’s clothes and tried to figure out which one was his.

Fortunately, she spoke up first saving him from a major embarrassment.

“Oh Daddy, you didn’t think Mom was really going to let you take us all to a restaurant, did you? She said you would probably either lose half of us or have a heart attack half way through the meal.”

“Oh she did, did she. Well I’ve got news for her, I could take you all to t he finest restaurant in town and manage fine, if I only had the money to do that. You know how much that would cost?”

“You couldn’t afford to take us all to McDonald’s, or have you forgotten how many of us there are these days?”

John laughed and agreed with his daughter. But, he wondered, if Maggie knew he couldn’t go to a restaurant, where did she think he would take them. It struck him then, and although he dreaded the experience he had to give his Maggie credit for getting back at him fast and severely.

“I get it,” John said to his daughter and Mary Alice, who were giggling now, waiting for him to figure out what his wife expected him to do. “She’s expecting me to take you to Grandmother O’Dwyer’s house isn’t she? That’s playing dirty pool, that’s what it is.”

“Well, we could go to the pizza shop I guess. But you’d better call first so they can get rid of all their other customers before we get there. We’ll take up the whole place. Plus, it will take you several trips in the car to get us all there.”

This was getting worse as the minutes ticked by. He knew he had to bite the bullet and do his penance if there was to be any peace in the O’Dwyer house but it was a touch sentence to pay.

“Okay, children, listen up.” John called down the hallway and up to the next floor so all the children could hear him. “ I want anyone over 6 years old to get your coats and hats on, pronto.”

While children scurried around and Maggie came up to find coats for the four newcomers, John dared to ask her if she had already called his mother to ask if they could go there for dinner.

“You are a wicked woman, Maggie O’Dwyer,” he whispered to her. “But you know I love you anyway.”

“Not now, John. I don’t want to hear anything nice from you right now. Take the children, and remember you cannot return for one hour.”

Maggie stood at the door and couldn’t help but smile as she watched John lead the parade of children down the street toward the house he grew up in about five blocks away. The children weren’t exactly in size order but the older ones were either pushing carriages or carrying smaller children, and it did her heart good when she realized that John himself had little Gracie on his shoulders. She waved and more than a dozen hands waved back in return, those that were old enough to wave and others who had a hand free to do so. Gracie looked directly at Maggie and blew a kiss, and at that moment she knew that everything would be okay and she’d see help the children, all of them, attain their destiny, whether it was magical or not.

The next morning John got up at the usual time and slowly entered what he always considered to be Maggie’s kitchen. She was sitting in the corner rocking chair as usual, sipping her coffee and staring into space with a thoughtful expression on her beautiful face. Her eyes appeared to be liquid as the sun caught the their bright blue and her pale complexion was as smooth and wrinkle free as it was the day he met her; John knew he had hurt his wife, and he would rather cut off a limb than hurt this wonderful woman. He would make it up to her for sure, if it took the rest of his sorry life.

Having made that decision, John entered the room and walked over to Maggie. It wasn’t that she was ignoring him, but he could see that she was concentrating on something, probably the fate of the four little orphans, and if he were a better person he would be concerned about them as well and not just his own happiness.





****

The only magic the people in town were aware of was Maggie’s super human ability to stay calm and continue to love her sorely wanting husband, at least that’s what the women in their little town said, as word spread about how insensitive John had been that Valentine’s Day. For the next few days it seemed that divine intervention was going to be needed if John was ever going to spend time at the pub or make his rounds about town delivering and receiving the latest bits of gossip. But to everyone’s surprise John was a new man, even his mother said it took a stronger woman than she to pull that off. The question was, and even a few bets at the bars around town were placed on how long John Francis O’Dwyer would remain this new, sensitive and loving man they saw around town.



A few months later, Maggie and John went to one of the better restaurants in town, just the two of them. No one in town had ever seen them out without any of the children, so this was big news and before they even ordered dessert it was the topic of conversation at McGinty’s, a place that had not had John O’Dwyer’s patronage in months. It may have been a sign of just how small and uneventful this town was if a man taking his wife out to dinner generated this much amazement and conversation, but this was no ordinary couple.

“It’s like something came over John, like a hex was put on him,” Bill commented. One day he’s sitting here bragging about having another kid and the next day he stops drinking. Hasn’t been in here since, if you can believe that.”

“I heard the same thing about him. He’s been going to Church every Sunday with his wife and the kids, and he even started coaching one of the Little League teams, of course most of the players on the team are his kids.” The guys at the bar all laughed at that, but it was a nervous laugh as they wondered what had come over the man who seemed to have no bounds to the amount of drinking he could do. He was always their idol for being able to get out of the house and hang out whenever he wanted, and never seem to pay any price for doing it. He could be a pain in the ass, on that they all agreed, but for some reason they missed this big, loud man who reminded them of how years ago men were in charge of their household. Something serious must have happened to make him change so dramatically.

Sitting at the bar that evening was Police Officer Johnson, who listened intently to what the others were saying and remembered the day he met Mrs. Maggie O’Dwyer, it was the day Frank White died. Nothing has been the same since that day, not in his life, the town, or in John O’Dwyer’s life obviously.

She was a special woman, of that he had no doubt, but he had a feeling that there was more to her than he, or anyone in town, would ever understand. He had been surprised when his mother told him the White children were living with the O’Dwyers. Little Gracie, he learned, was now in the choir at Church and sang like an angel. ‘Who would have thought one woman could make all this happen?’ he thought, and wished he could get to know the magical Maggie O’Dwyer better.















© Copyright 2012 dcoleman (denco60 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1894884-Magical-Maggie-ODwyer