The Crazy Christmas Read online

  Copyright © 2020 A.S. McGowan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Chapter 1

  November 5, 1863

  Michael O’Brian stepped from the train into the crowded train station. He was glad to finally be home. To many years in England as an apprentice had taken a toll on him. While he loved that he could home a doctor, he hated to be so far from his family. He had heard about the war that broke out in America while he was in London. He tried his best to stay abreast of the situation. His mother even wrote him at one time pages of news about the country. Peppered in where her pleas that he remain in London until after the war had ended.

  He stumbled when something hard bumped into him. He muttered an apology, pulled himself from his musings, and proceeded to follow the flow of foot traffic toward the doors. Everyone from every walk of life surrounded him. They were elbow to elbow, in each others faces, no personal space, no exception. Even in the frigid air of the winter, he could feel the warmth surround him. More than the warmth were the mixture of heavy perfumes and body odor that assaulted his nose.

  Once outside, he took a deep breath of fresh air. He rubbed his hands, pulled his gloves from his pocket, and shoved his hands into them. He scanned the area and saw his brother, John, standing next to a sleek black carriage with a driver next to him. He hunkered down against the cold wind and headed toward them.

  He pulled John into a hug, good naturally slapping him on the back. It was good to be home. He noticed his brother had changed in the years he was away. The worry lines and dark circles from sleepless night were gone. Money sure did look good on his older brother.

  “It is good to have you home, Michael. Things haven’t been the same without you.”

  “I see things have changed. When I left you could barely afford a taxi, much less a sleek carriage like this one.” A twinge of jealousy coursed through him as he eyed the carriage again.

  “It is all a nice perk, but I would have married Ester even if she didn’t have an inherence.” He turned toward the carriage and motioned for Michael to climb inside. “Come, I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

  Marriage may be alright for John, and even David had remarried, but Michael wanted no part of that ball and chain. He had managed before he left for England to avoid his mother’s match making ways. He would continue to do so. Let her focus on a different son.

  “I still can’t believe you and David went and got yourselves saddles with wives.”

  “Matthew has a bride himself. Just last month,” John said.

  “Not Matthew, too?” He couldn’t believe Matthew had gone done the route of marriage. Matthew was the kind of man who only needed his stescope and black medical bag to be happy. Even as teenagers, he was only interested in medicine. It must have been on special woman to get him to walk down the aisle.

  They spent the rest of the ride discussing current events. He feared for his two twin brothers who were off fighting in the war. He felt appalled by violence, just like Matthew. Unlike Matthew though, he would resort to violence if he absolutely had no choice.

  The carriage came to a stop, the driver jumped down, and opened the door for them. John climbed out first, then stood and waited for him. When he climbed out of the carriage, he looked at the mansion in front of him. The mansion loomed proudly, flanked by rows of hedges blanketed in snow. This one place could house almost everyone from the old neighborhood. How could one family reside inside such a space? How any one family needed something this huge was beyond him. Never in his life had he been allowed to enter into such a place, and now he found he would be living here. His mind had difficulty wrapping itself around such a thing.

  He realized his mouth was hanging open and clamped it shut. He heard John laugh. He reached out and playful punched his brother on the shoulder. Together, they walked up to the large wooden double doors. One door opened and an older man in a black suit stood holding the door open.

  “Mr. Wiggins, this is my brother Michael. Michael, this is our butler Mr. Wiggins,” John said as he stepped into the foyer.

  “Good to meet you, Master Michael,” Mr. Wiggins greeted him.

  “It’s good to meet you too, Mr. Wiggins.” A butler, who opened the doors for them? He had been invited to a few homes while in England where they had a butler and servants so the concept wasn’t new to him. Just the concept of his brother having one. Master Michael? That concept threw him also. Never in his life did he dream someone would address him in a such a way. In fact, he still wasn’t even used to being addressed as Doctor O’Brian. He still felt like the poor kid from the wrong part of town. He hoped his brothers hadn’t changed much because of all this. He never had much use for those rich uppity snobs.

  Yet, here he stood in a foyer bigger than the living room in their old house. The hardwood floors shined to perfection. A wooden table with a marble top sat against one wall. Fresh flowers filled the vase in the center. Where did they get fresh flowers this time of year? Money sure could buy anything. He shook his head and turned to John.

  “Where is Ma?”

  “I have ensured everyone was in the parlor as you requested, Master O’Brian,” Mr. Wiggins said.

  “Good. Good. Thank you so much.” John motioned for Michael to follow him into the room off to the right of the foyer.

  He stepped into the parlor and everything went silent. At first, everyone just stared at him, then chaos erupted as everyone screamed his name and rushed toward him. He felt trapped in the endless sea of people, their voices all blended together as they all spoke at once. He hadn’t realized they would react in such a way to his return. Had he known he might have stayed in the foyer. He allowed them their joy and overly zealous greeting for a moment longer.

  “Alright, everyone, please back up,” he yelled above the noise. When everyone grew quiet and moved away from him, he took a deep breath. “There, that is much better.”

  His mother stood in front of him, dressed like an elegant queen. Her hair that he remembered so often falling from its pins, was now neatly curled and pinned upon her head. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes that he remembered so well. Tears of joy were in her eyes and a smile upon her face. It pleased him to see his mother so well-cared for, afforded the opportunity to just relax and enjoy her life.

  He pulled her into his arms, held her close, and heard her gently sob. He wanted to cry right along with her. Never again would he go so far from home. So far from this amazing woman who had always been the rock that held their family together.

  He turned and saw James stand with a girl he thought he recognized. He tried to recall from where, but the memory escaped him. James caught him staring at the girl and smiled at him.

  “Michael, you remember Molly McGuire, don’t you?” James asked.

  “Molly McGuire? Yes, of course. When I left for England, you were just a little girl still.”

  “Welcome home, Michael,” she said.

  He looked around at everyone one, cocked his head to one side, and silently asked what was going on with Miss McGuire. James read him like a book and laughed. He turned back to James. He had feared more than once that James would end up shot or stabbed by an angry jealous husband. Now, though, seeing him with Miss McGuire, he feared it would be an irate father.

  “I can see the look on your face, big brother. Rest assured that it isn’t like that at all. Molly and I are to be married next month.” James’ voice wa
s full of pride as he made the announcement.

  “Married? Surely you don’t want to rush into something like that so soon,” Michael said. James was a playboy, a right-out scoundrel who always viewed women as good for one thing and one thing only. He had no use for proper girls. Now look at him, standing there beaming like an idiot. He couldn’t believe his little brother was going to join the ranks of their other brothers. Those fools.

  “Not too soon. We have been courting for three years. Plenty of time to be ready for marriage,” James said.

  “What does your father say about you marrying the likes of him?” Michael asked and offered Molly a wink.

  “My father passed away last year,” Molly informed him.

  “I am so sorry for your loss, Ms. McGuire. Your father was a good man.”

  “Thank you. We miss him dearly.”

  “Surely though, Dalton would have stepped up and insisted you avoid my playboy brother,” Michael said. Dalton and James had been friends, and Dalton knew the boy well enough to not want him married to his baby sister.

  “Dalton died in a battle at the start of the war,” she said solemnly.

  “Again, I am sorry for your loss.” He found he better stop speaking before he dredged up every painful aspect of the young woman’s life.

  He went and sat in the high-backed chair next to the seetee his mother was sitting on with two other women. David was sitting in the other chair across the mahogany coffee table from him. David quickly introduced him to his wife Topsannah, and John’s wife Ester. Topsannah, he noticed, had her long hair in a braid that fell over her shoulder. So much different from the other women, who’s hair was curled and pinned up high upon their heads.

  He inquired about Matthew, and they informed him that Matthew and Sarah would be arriving shortly for dinner. He couldn’t wait to see Matthew. He had so much he wanted to discuss with his brother. Now that he was back, he had so many plans as a doctor and wanted Matthew alongside him. He wondered if Matthew may not have already gone his own way and would have no interest in any of his plans. He quickly dismissed the idea.

  They spent the next hour in the parlor as he told them stories of his life in London. They caught him up on their lives as well. While in London, he never thought about how much he was missing. In his mind, everyone back home remained the same, their lives suspended until he returned. Thinking that way was what had helped him from being separated from them. Now he saw that life didn’t stand still waiting for him, and it was a bittersweet feeling.

  Chapter 2

  Dinner last night had been a lavish affair. The food, while simple meatloaf, mash potatoes, and green beans, had been served on fine china. He watched as the brothers at with manners he never knew they had. They teased at first that Ester forced them to spend hours learning how to eat properly. She quickly set the record straight, with her cheeks a crimson red. He smiled as he remembered how huffy she had gotten over being accused of such torture.

  He clipped his pocket watch to his jacket, then dropped it into his pocket. He headed downstairs. Mr. Wiggins was in the foyer standing by the door. He wondered if the man spent all his time there. He thought of asking, but then decided against it. He wasn’t sure how one interacted with the servants. Something new for him to learn. Something he wasn’t all together sure he wanted to learn.

  He went into the parlor he was in last night. Ester sat at a table off against the wall, playing what looked like checkers with Topsannah. They smiled when they saw him enter. Again, this morning Ester was dressed in her finest with her hair pinned up. Topsannah while dressed in equal fashion, had her again in a long braid.

  “There is tea in the teapot there on the coffee table. Help yourself,” Ester said after she finished a move on the checkerboard.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

  “None of that ma’am stuff. You are my brother, and formality shouldn’t stand among family,” she said.

  He sat on the seetee and poured himself a cup of tea, then turned so he could watch them play their game.

  “I have never had sisters before. I, however, grew up with friends who did. I remember they teased them mercilessly. Is that how I should behave with you?”

  He saw the smile spread across her face. John did well with his new wife. She was exquisite and her smile could light up a room. There was a sweetness to her as well. He saw it last night in how she cared for his mother.

  “I would warn you, I never had siblings until I married John. I don’t take to teasing very well. But I have learned to be a master at pranks. Just ask Patrick what happens when one teases me.” She moved a checker on the board and clapped her hands. “I win again.”

  “She always wins. But that is because I let her,” Topsannah informed him.

  Just then a maid walked in carrying an infant who looked to be about five or six months old. The baby squirmed and fussed something fierce. The maid struggled to keep her grip on the baby.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but she seems to want to be fed again.”

  “Of course. If you will excuse me, I must go feed her yet again.” Topsannah rose from the chair and took the infant. “I swear, she is a bottomless pit some days.”

  The maid followed Topsannah from the room, leaving him alone with Ester. A heavy silence fell over the room. He glanced about nervously and shifted in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to say now that they were alone. He had made a point in his life to not sit idly alone with a woman. Well, not alone with women like her. She, for her part, remained silent as she rearranged the pieces on the checkerboard.

  “Would you like to play?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence.

  “I would be delighted to,” he said and rose from the seetee, grateful for something to do other than sit there. He took the seat Topsannah had vacated. “I must warn you that unlike her, I won’t let you win.”

  “I look forward to the challenge. You go first.”

  They played a couple of games and to his surprise, she won each one. She was highly intelligent and proved to be a worthy opponent. During their games, she had asked him countless questions about his training in London as a doctor. He tried to spare her the gruesome details of practicing medicine. Before long, though, he discovered that she could actually handle the details most women didn’t want to hear. She even offered several well-thought-out and intelligent opinions on matters of illnesses and injuries.

  Matthew came in while they were discussing one such case of smallpox and stood by the table behind Ester. “I see she is picking your brain today.”

  “Is she always this interested in such things?”

  “I have discovered John’s wife is interested in everything she can learn. Doesn’t matter the subject.”

  “I will forgive Michael this one time, but you, Matthew, should know better than to talk about me as if I wasn’t in the room.”

  “My apologizes.” Matthew patted her on the head like she were a child, and the action earned him a solid punch in the arm. He watched as Matthew grabbed his arm where she had punched him and Ester shook her hand out. He realized in that moment that she meant what she said. There was no formality amongst family.

  “Matthew, I am so glad you are here,” James said as he ran into the room. “Michael, you can come, too. Molly just sent a message that Mabel is at her house and out of control again.”

  “Crazy Mabel?” Michael asked.

  “The one and only.” James turned and ran from the room, not even waiting on them.

  They bid goodbye to Ester and headed outside where James was already climbing into the carriage. He would have thought someone would have had that woman locked up a long time ago. She was a danger to everyone around her, yet her father kept pulling strings and kept her at home. She wasn’t really kept at home, though. No, he let that crazy woman run around the neighborhood doing what ever she pleased.

  Chapter 3

  The carriage pulled up in front of the McGuire house. Michael didn’t even wait for
the driver; he opened the door himself and leaped down to the street. Matthew and James followed him to the door.

  “Oh, thank goodness you are here,” Molly said as she opened the door before he could knock.

  They entered the small house to find Mabel sitting on the floor against the wall of the small living room. She looked up when they entered.

  “Stab. Stab.” Mabel stabbed at the air. “Mommy wake up.” She stopped stabbing at the air. “Mabel drink tea. Drink tea, Mabel.”

  She continued to repeat the litany over and over again. Molly rushed to James, who pulled her against his side.

  “How long has she been like this?” Michael asked.

  “I sent for James as soon as she started. So, I don’t know . . . maybe an hour,” Molly said.

  “Do you have a spare bed?” Michael asked.

  “Yes. She can use mine if needed.”

  Michael opened his medical bag he had carried in with him. He pulled out a bottle and cup and poured some liquid into the cup. He looked at the cup and poured a small amount more.

  “That will take a bit to actually take effect,” Matthew said.

  “Would you rather I punch her?” Michael asked.

  “You will not strike her at all. Do you hear me, Michael O’Brian?” Molly screamed as she put herself between Michael and Mabel.

  “I assure you, Ms. McGuire, that I only asked that in jest. I have not once nor do I ever plan to strike a woman.” He held out the bottle and cup to Ms. McGuire. “Here, hold this for a moment.”

  He reached back into the bag and removed another bottle and a rag. He opened the bottle and soaked the rag with the contents. He nodded to Matthew, who then went and grabbed Mabel’s arms. With her secured, Michael forced her mouth open. She struggled but he managed to pour the contents of the cup inside her mouth then clamped her mouth shut. Assured she had swallowed it all, he placed the rag over her mouth and nose. She struggled against them. Matthew tightened his grip as Michael pushed harder against her face. When she went limp, he removed the rag from her face. Matthew picked her up and carried her toward the stairs. He stopped long enough for Molly to tell him which room was hers.