This is a story that's been floating around in my head for a couple of years and I've just begun to write a few rough drafts, so we'll see. It's a story set in Ireland during the late 1890's. A young woman with no family left is forced to reside with a neighboring family in order to survive but life is hard. There is very little money and many people are going hungry. Her ticket to freedom comes when her distant uncle in America offers her a chance to come and stay with him and his wife in New York City where they own a small sweatshop. Please review and let me know what you think as it progresses!
Chapter 1
It was a blustery winter morning as Kate Gallagher struggled to lug the two buckets of stream water uphill to the house. It had been bitter cold the night before and it had left the water frozen leaving her with no choice but to borrow an axe from a nearby neighbor and chop a sizeable hole through the ice. Now, as she trudged on she wished more than ever that the Murphy family possessed a well. Just then she heard her name being yelled. She tried to hurry but slipped in the slush that coated the incline and fell to one knee, sloshing some of her hard-earned water from the buckets and soiling her skirt. She glanced up at the sky and groaned. When she finally reached the top a short frumpy woman came into view wearing an ill-fitting shift that bore the marks of wear. She stood beside a large black kettle that rested over an open fire. Her gaze fixed upon Kate and a scowl contorted her features. ''Bout time you got here with that water, the kettle's about scorched through!'', she scolded and motioned for Kate to hurry and the hand the buckets off to her. The woman emptied them into the kettle and in rapid succession cut three chunks off of a homemade bar of lye soap and tossed them into the water. ''Well what are ya' lollygagging at girl, you've chores to finish. The pigs need feeding and the twins need to be cleaned up.''
''Yes maam'', Kate replied and turned to do the woman's bidding shivering as she went. Her wet skirt clung to her legs making them feel like blocks of ice and difficult to move. The sky above was turning a foreboding shade of grey, threatening more snow before the day was out. She tried to wrap her thin shawl more tightly around her slender frame and sighed, trying to fight off feelings of loneliness.
Ever since coming to work for the Murphys a year ago she had felt what it was like to be alone. They had no children that were even close to her age and at times she felt that if it weren't for Ciaran, she would feel completely deserted. After feeding the pigs who by now were squealing loudly for their breakfast she headed reluctantly to the house not eager to face the screaming pair of faces that were sure to greet her. The twins were Mrs. Murphys youngest and to Kate it seemed they were also the most neglected. The woman favored her two oldest, Robert who was six and Brian who was nine. Both were out with their father that morning.
As expected, tear-stained faces turned to look at her as she entered the small three room cottage. The twins sat on a blanket in the middle of the floor and even from where she stood in the doorway Kate realized the source of their anger. Their nappies were sopping wet and when re-placed with clean dry ones their cries quickly turned to cheerful gurgles. That finished Kate set about starting the evening meal so that it would be finished by the time John Murphy arrived home from his job at the lumber mill. The man did not like to be kept waiting.
Chopping a few potatoes she added them to the pot resting on it's hook over the large stone fireplace. Along with that she added several cups of water, a few shreds of pork off the last of their reserves and threw in a bone to add some extra flavor. As she waited for it to boil she mixed some cornmeal, flour, water, and a tiny pinch of salt together to make a simple corncake batter. This she ladled into a cast iron skillet and placed on the hearth keeping sure that it was not too close to the flame. After a few moments she flipped it and satisfied with the golden brown color she let it go for another moment until she was sure that it was finished. She then set it aside to cool and decided on what to do next.
Looking down at the floor made of roughly hewn wooden planks and soiled with dirt and whatnot she knew that was next or she would be hearing it from Mrs. Murphy. The next hour was spent on her hands and knees with a horse brush scrubbing every inch of the floor until it looked as good as she could get it. Just as she finished Mrs. Murphy bustled in and not even noticing the floor she ordered Kate to feed the twins while she gathered the washboard and the family's dirty laundry for the week. ''Yes maam'', Kate replied and turned to the small cupboard that served as the family's pantry and held the meager amount of food they managed to live on every day. It was nearly empty and she settled for slicing a potato in half and handing the twins each a side to knaw on until supper. Her own stomach rumbled ominously but she knew her work was not done.
She headed outside to help the woman finish the laundry before it began to snow again, turning to glance behind her once more to make sure the twins were not getting into any mischief. It was only last week that one of them had gotten too close to the fireplace and had burned their hand. Kate of course had been blamed for not keeping a closer eye on them. It was too bad Mr. and Mrs. Murphy had not wanted to hear about how she had been busy feeding the pigs when it had happened. Kate knew that it was useless to argue. The cool air blew over her cheeks reddened from the exertion of cleaning the floors as she walked out the front door.
For the next few hours Kate and Mrs. Murphy did laundry and little else. Kate was spoken to only when absolutely necessary it seemed as the two took turns on the washboard and keeping the water in the kettle constantly churning. By the time they had finished Kate's eyes were stinging from the acrid stench of lye and her hands were close to peeling. All that was left was to pin the dripping clothes to the line stretched from the corner of the house to a nearby pine. She felt miserable. Her nose was running from the cold and her hands stung fiercely. She couldn't wait for the day to be over. After they had finished it was nearly suppertime and the older woman ordered Kate back into the house to check on the twins and the supper. Happy to escape she hurried to do what was asked of her.
She had just finished setting the table when Robert and Brian came bursting through the door followed closely by their father, all three of them tracking mud from the outside onto her clean floor. Kate heaved a sigh of frustration and turned her attention back to supper. She ladled portions out carefully making sure that Mr. Murphy received the most and slid the bowls to their places at the table. Without thanks or even a nod the man sat down and began to devour his supper even before his family had a chance to be assembled properly. The boys chased eachother around the room, teasing the twins mercilessly until they began to cry. A roar from their father quickly silenced them and their assumed their places alongside their father. A moment later their mother joined them, her hands red from the lye as well nearly matching the color of her frizzy red hair that strayed from her bun forming a halo aound her face in a most un-attractive way. Her face flickered with satisfaction when she saw that supper had already been served before she turned to scold Kate on the dirty floor.
Kate stooped to swipe away the mess with a rag, furious inside. The woman gave her husband the customary peck on the cheek and sat down beside him to eat. When supper was over and the dishes were throughly scoured, only then was Kate allowed to retreat to the one place she could call her own. The small loft overlooking the main room. She slept on a narrow pallet stuffed with straw and a threadbare blanket to keep her warm. A small steamer trunk bound closed by two main leather buckles that had belonged to her parents sat in the corner containing her few possessions. She changed quickly into her night shift as she knew the two boys had a habit of trying to watch her un-dress. She lay down on the narrow ticking and reached under her pillow for her keepsake box. Inside were the things she treasured the most.
A beautiful leaf her dearest friend Ciaran had found for her during that past fall. It was an explosion of color, golden yellow with flaming reds tips. She had been careful to press it between two pieces of paper to save it. Also in the box, letters from her distant uncle who lived in America. They had corresponded ever since the incident with her parents. Alongside them was her mother's wedding band and the last item, a photogragh of her with her parents which she removed carefully just as she did every night before she went to bed. Kate could remember quite vividly the day that the picture was taken though she was only 10 years old at the time.
It was quite the special occasion, it being her birthday and her parents 11th wedding anniversary. Her father had insisted on hiring the man, a photogragher who traveled through town every few months or so. Her mother had seen it as a frivolous expense but her father, ever the spontaneous one had talked her mother into it. It had cost the family nearly a whole sixpence, a fairly substantial amount. She remembered clearly how her mother had fussed and primped for ages until her father had convinced her to finally come out so the poor man could do his job and be on his way. Upon seeing her the much relieved man wiped the sweat from his brow as it had been a particularly warm summer day and set up the shot.
A moment later the flashbulb seared their vision and a plume of smoke arose into the air, forever imbedding their image onto the small scrap of paper Kate held in her hands. Kate's father had his hand on both her and her mother, looking dapper in his best set of clothes. Her mother had her head turned slightly towards him and appeared to be about to speak, a small smile playing about her lips. Kate herself looked so young or so she thought. Her hair was in pigtail braids and she had grinned a toothy grin at the camera. They appeared so happy then, the three of them.
It was only two short weeks later that Kate's father was to catch the spotted fever and pass away in her mother's arms as he burned up with fever and his breathing became more and more labored. Her mother tragically followed six years later, trampled to death by a team of horses. Kate had been only 16, not old enough to handle the family's farm which was sold and she was sent to live with the Murphys to help out with chores as Mrs. Murphy was pregnant with the twins at the time. She had food and a roof over her head but she despised it there. She received no sympathy for her parents death and was left to deal with her grief alone.
She longed for a change of scenery, to rid herself of the depression that followed her throughout her day. The only thing that made her forget her unfortunate circumstances was the letters from her uncle in America who described the place as a land of opportunity. He had been writing her family for years trying to convince them to come but Kate's parents could never bear the thought of losing the farm that they had worked for for so long. But now with nothing holding her back she had written to him describing what had happened and the situation she was in. Not really knowing what kind of response to expect she almost regretted sending the letter. But it was too late for that now. She wondered if she would ever receive a response.
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