The Young Irish Maid

Now rising and looking out the window, she went on, "It's in a woman's nature to want to please a man. Even as wee children we're taught that's our purpose in life." Taking a deep breath, she glanced at me, saying, "Would it make ye feel better to know some part of me was glad to give ye pleasure?"

"You was a handsome distinguished gent, me a little servant girl. Ooh ye made me so mad! Paddling me bum and making me do all that other! But later on, lying in bed, I'd sometimes think tweren't so bad. That I was doing what a woman's best fit to do, give pleasure to a man."

"But I want ye t' know I kept me pride. Some part of me I never gave to you and will never give to any man. I ain't no slattern."

"You could never be that, Siobhán."

"Sir, I want to ask. Did ye ever feel anything more than just desire for me body? Anything a'tall?"

Again came the tears. "Siobhán, when you left I did miss the pleasure you gave me. But what I missed more was you, yourself. Your quiet smile when you brought my tea in the morning, even if I had paddled you shamefully the night before. Your lovely face; your friendly welcome in the evening when I came home from work. Your laughter as you joked with Ella. That is what I missed most."

"You say it's a woman's nature to want to please a man. It seems a man's nature to desire a woman's body, without realizing how much more there is to her. Dear girl, you brightened my life as no woman has ever done. You are the only thing I will miss when I am finished here on earth. From the bottom of my heart I say that!"

She blessed me with another smile. "That will have to do, I guess."

Three days later, I met Siobhán and her fiancé Robert Ferguson at the law office of Williams and Burns. Robert was a ruddy-faced Scotsman, as poor as a church mouse. His clothing was threadbare but clean. I searched his eyes carefully, finally satisfied that they were the eyes of a good and decent man.

We signed all documents making Thomas Jennings my legal heir. Then we walked out of the office to the terrace of the building, adjusting our topcoats. The day was dim and misty, with raindrops gathering on our wool garments.

Robert and I paused as Siobhán walked on. "So," he said, "we are through with you now?"

"Yes."

"Every lad needs a father. I will try to be that to Thomas."

"I am sure you will." Again tears welled up in my eyes. I took the man's arm.

"What is it?" he asked.

Struggling to breathe, I spoke. "I want you to know, sir, that I would give every cent I have, indeed would sell my soul to the devil, to walk in your shoes for even a little while. Because you have the love of that girl, Siobhán Flynn. And a lifetime to spend with her. You must know what a treasure she is. Love and respect her! Treat her as I could not!"

Robert nodded, then went down the steps and took her hand. Siobhán gave me one last look, a wan smile on her face. They walked down the street, hand in hand. The misting rain and the crowd began to enclose them, and after a block I could see them no more.

*******

I have penned these words in my sleeping car on the Sunset Limited of the Southern Pacific Railroad. The desolate terrain of West Texas passes before my eyes as a dreamscape; a bleak foretaste of my future. Tomorrow I arrive in Deming, New Mexico and Doña Ana Sanatorium, where I will pass my last days on earth. Can this really be happening to me?

I leave this story to my descendents. Perhaps they will understand; perhaps not. But how can I convey to them feelings that seem too deep for words? Shall I tell them in closing that the hours I spent with that girl were the sweetest of my life? Shall I confess to them and to God that even now, the memory of those carnal acts to which I subjected her gives me the most ineffable pleasure?

But my deathbed awaits me. There I pray that just before my eyes close for good I will see a vision of her lovely face; that with my last breath I will utter her name, my beloved Siobhán.