Read Online By Way of the Rose by Cynthia Ward Weil - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cynthia Ward Weil
Tags: Fiction
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get back here and eat your food after momma fixed you another plate!” Nathan snorted. “I don't care who you think you are, you can't waste food like this!”
“Nathan, is there any way you could let Momma and Poppa tend to her?”
“Is there any way you could be anything but a field pansy?” Nathan smarted back.
Suddenly, that was one too many slights. Something inside John snapped. He forgot about everyone and everything as he flew into Nathan like a madman. He let his temper soar, let all the anger and pent up emotions out as he pounded into Nathan over and over.
“Stop... you'll kill him! Please stop!” John heard Marion screaming. He looked and saw the terror in her face as she clutched at her heart and cried out. He looked up and saw Daniel standing over him trying to pull him off Nathan. He saw his brother's bloodied face and he couldn't believe he'd done this, that he'd exposed his family to such horror! He had done the unthinkable. He'd broken his promise to Agnes! He stood and backed away slowly. “I— I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” He shook his head.
That evening he packed his bags.
“John, you said you were home for good.” Sarah's voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered.
“Sarah, I don't belong here. I know that now. My life is somewhere else.” He hugged her then looked at her long, wanting to engrave every part of her face in his memory. He knew he was not coming back for a long time now. This leaving was different than the first. Saying goodbye was even harder this time because he knew what awaited him. He deserved it. He deserved to live alone in a bleak little room with rats. He'd done the unthinkable and he'd do his penance. He would have to scrape by for a while, but he'd make it somehow. Someway, he'd make money and a better life for himself and for his family away from here. Away from Nathan and the possibility of ever breaking his promise to Agnes again. I'm sorry Aggie, I tried. I just can't stand Nathan. I'll make it up to you and to everyone. Tears blurred his vision as he walked away.
“Why couldn't I have kept my blasted temper!” John chastised himself as he shoved a large block of ice across the floor of the ice house. “Now here I am back in this hell hole. Stuck here with nothing and no one!” He'd returned to Rochester, to his old job, and to his old room. Mr. Bryant had been kind enough to hire him back.
John grasped the block of ice in the large, steel tongs and began lugging it up the steps. Outside he swung it into the back of the wagon where he covered it over with the tarp and hay.
The vibrant notes of a jaunty whistle glided on the air through slum's alley out back of Mr. Bryant's store. John looked from his chore and saw a slender young man strolling toward him. His hair was a copper color with more blonde than red. His stride was tall and proud. His was the posture of a gentleman or an aristocrat but his dress was that of a poor ice hauler, like John.
He smiled and held out his hand as he neared John. “Ye must be the fella’ Mr. Bryant was tellin’ me ‘bout. I'm Amos Douglas Mahaffey, me friends call me Doug, and I be pleased to be makin’ yer acquaintance, I am.” He spoke with an Irish accent.
“Likewise.” John clasped his hand. “I'm John DuVal.”
Doug explained that he was seventeen and fresh off the boat from Ireland. Over time he shared with John how he'd been sent here to marry his cousin, Gracie who was from Rochester. But he'd run out on her and been cut off from the family's money. Both sides were angry and refused to give him aid. So Doug, being a young man of principles and a bit strong willed as well, went to make his own way in the world. They could keep all their blasted money as far as he was concerned. He didn't love Gracie, but what was more important to Doug was the fact that Gracie didn't love him. And so it was Doug's idea to let them lay all the blame at his own feet for the failed wedding. He would see to it that Gracie
“Nathan, is there any way you could let Momma and Poppa tend to her?”
“Is there any way you could be anything but a field pansy?” Nathan smarted back.
Suddenly, that was one too many slights. Something inside John snapped. He forgot about everyone and everything as he flew into Nathan like a madman. He let his temper soar, let all the anger and pent up emotions out as he pounded into Nathan over and over.
“Stop... you'll kill him! Please stop!” John heard Marion screaming. He looked and saw the terror in her face as she clutched at her heart and cried out. He looked up and saw Daniel standing over him trying to pull him off Nathan. He saw his brother's bloodied face and he couldn't believe he'd done this, that he'd exposed his family to such horror! He had done the unthinkable. He'd broken his promise to Agnes! He stood and backed away slowly. “I— I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” He shook his head.
That evening he packed his bags.
“John, you said you were home for good.” Sarah's voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered.
“Sarah, I don't belong here. I know that now. My life is somewhere else.” He hugged her then looked at her long, wanting to engrave every part of her face in his memory. He knew he was not coming back for a long time now. This leaving was different than the first. Saying goodbye was even harder this time because he knew what awaited him. He deserved it. He deserved to live alone in a bleak little room with rats. He'd done the unthinkable and he'd do his penance. He would have to scrape by for a while, but he'd make it somehow. Someway, he'd make money and a better life for himself and for his family away from here. Away from Nathan and the possibility of ever breaking his promise to Agnes again. I'm sorry Aggie, I tried. I just can't stand Nathan. I'll make it up to you and to everyone. Tears blurred his vision as he walked away.
“Why couldn't I have kept my blasted temper!” John chastised himself as he shoved a large block of ice across the floor of the ice house. “Now here I am back in this hell hole. Stuck here with nothing and no one!” He'd returned to Rochester, to his old job, and to his old room. Mr. Bryant had been kind enough to hire him back.
John grasped the block of ice in the large, steel tongs and began lugging it up the steps. Outside he swung it into the back of the wagon where he covered it over with the tarp and hay.
The vibrant notes of a jaunty whistle glided on the air through slum's alley out back of Mr. Bryant's store. John looked from his chore and saw a slender young man strolling toward him. His hair was a copper color with more blonde than red. His stride was tall and proud. His was the posture of a gentleman or an aristocrat but his dress was that of a poor ice hauler, like John.
He smiled and held out his hand as he neared John. “Ye must be the fella’ Mr. Bryant was tellin’ me ‘bout. I'm Amos Douglas Mahaffey, me friends call me Doug, and I be pleased to be makin’ yer acquaintance, I am.” He spoke with an Irish accent.
“Likewise.” John clasped his hand. “I'm John DuVal.”
Doug explained that he was seventeen and fresh off the boat from Ireland. Over time he shared with John how he'd been sent here to marry his cousin, Gracie who was from Rochester. But he'd run out on her and been cut off from the family's money. Both sides were angry and refused to give him aid. So Doug, being a young man of principles and a bit strong willed as well, went to make his own way in the world. They could keep all their blasted money as far as he was concerned. He didn't love Gracie, but what was more important to Doug was the fact that Gracie didn't love him. And so it was Doug's idea to let them lay all the blame at his own feet for the failed wedding. He would see to it that Gracie
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