Crime & Punishment: The Prequel Ch. 12

Her daughter Pollyanna had arrived at her door one December evening just over four years ago. Polly had been born on a Wednesday, and she was a true Wednesday's child, full of woe. Fresh out of prison and eight months pregnant, she had no place to go and had come home. She had always been the child of adversity, the offspring of her mother's misfortune and guilt.

Thomas (Tommy) Randell had been a drunk who beat his wife, Silva and drove her into the arms of his firefighter neighbor, Red Mike Keenan. The older Keenan believed as a decent man that he had no choice but to take in the battered woman to protect her and her young son. Being twenty-five years her senior the childless widower Keenan did not expect to fall in love or have that love returned.

The Catholic Silva Randell would not divorce her husband even when she became pregnant. They married only after Tommy's death ten years later. There was a chance that the child she bore after leaving him was Tommy's, and the little blond Pollyanna bore a striking resemblance to her mother and no one else. However, any doubt Silva had was dispelled when Anastasia was born with the blazing red hair of a setting sun, Mike's hair.

Before her birth, no one had wanted the child of a convicted drug felon which was possibly of mixed race. Afterward, Polly had been determined to place the child for adoption, but Silva was more determined that the grandchild of Red Mike Keenan would be brought up in the Keenan family home.

For Silva, it was not easy raising the child alone in the big Tutor style house in Queens. Their visitors only the broken victims of the Child Abuse Groups that Silva had joined after her son Robert's suicide and Mikes death from a heart condition. But every time she looked upon her granddaughter, she knew that joy of life which expunged all the sorrows.

There came a knock on the door, and before Silva Keenan could answer it, Anna sprang up leaving the green bean and most of the rest of her dinner unfinished. She reached the door before her grandmother, and despite the words of caution, the woman shouted Anna opened it.

There stood a very tall, very large man. Anna jumped back, but the man only gave a smile and asked, "Are you, Anastasia?"

Anna could only nod shyly at the use of her full name.

"Your mother said you were a pretty baby, but I see you are a big girl."

By then Silva had reached the door to confront her visitor, "Can I ask who you are?"

"Ed. Brandt," he said.

Silva looked him up and down and decided he was a police officer, although he wore no uniform. She wondered what Polly had done this time to bring the police to her door. That child so entwined in her heart that the mere thought of her, and they were frequent thoughts, made her chest hurt and brought tears to her eyes, but Polly was always in trouble.

"What can I do for you officer Brandt?" she asked.

He gave a brief smile and said, "It was deputy, but I'm retired now. Kinda between jobs, you might say."

Anna jumped in at this point, "Are you a giant?"

Kneeling he spoke to Anna, "No just a man who has brought you a visitor and come to ask your grandmother for something."

"Mr. Brandt, I'm not sure what you want here," Silva said.

"Polly is down the street in my car. She was afraid you would not want to see her, but I insisted she come. You see..." he paused hesitating to go on.

"Yes," Silva demanded but looked desperately onto the street to catch a glimpse of her daughter.

"I've asked her to marry me, and she's said yes, but I wanted to ask for your blessing considering—"

Ed. Brandt had to be at least fifteen years older than Pollyanna Randell, but Mike had been twenty-five years Silva's senior, and a better marriage there never was.

All this went through Silva's mind, and then she spoke," Yes, Mr. Brandt you can marry my daughter, but only on one condition."

Ed looked at her asking silently for her condition.

"You must bring her home to her daughter and her mother."

"You stay right here Anna cause I'm going to get your mommy."