Chapter IV

It all came to an end a week before Christmas, when he awoke in his room in the Hotel. He vaguely recognized the young lady in his bed as Bernadette something-or-the-other from the General Store, where she worked as a clerk. She was not the usual sort he found in his bed. Much more proper and churchy. He wondered how he had managed to maneuver her into his bed.
“Wake up lass” he said as he nudged her “And what is it you are doing in me bed?”
She rolled over and looked at him and said, “Do you not remember any of it Seamus? As to what I am doing, I am saving you from yourself. Say hello to your new missus”
As she said this, she held up her left hand and showed him the ring on her third finger. This was going to take some thinking through. But first he needed a drink. He headed for the nightstand, and was shocked to see that there was not a bottle there. He always kept a bottle on the nightstand for mornings like this.
A voice behind him said “You’ll not be finding a bottle on the nightstand, not this morning or any other, now that you are a properly married man. I’m not saying you can never have a drink, just that if you overindulge you will not be using the bottle as a way to avoid the consequences. And you’ll be getting no sympathy from me. I saw me own Da’ drink himself into an early grave, and won’t see any husband of mine do the same.”
And that was the first conversation he remembered with my great-grandmother. This story was related to me by my grandmother, as told by her father-in-law, as he was apt to do after having a few drinks on an evening. The details might change from time to time, but the essence of the story always remained the same.
He awoke to find himself broke and down to three possessions: a defunct mine a brand new bride, and a section of land a couple of miles outside town. He was pretty hazy about how he had come into possession of items two and three.
The Hanson brothers were long gone. They had given up on finding an ore deposit, had been paid off and went to strike it rich on their own. So Seamus and his new bride moved into the cabin over the claim. Bernie didn’t like the arrangement, as sitting the cabin over a hole in the ground made it cold and drafty, although it would make for a dandy root cellar. And so it was for the first couple of years of their marriage. Bernie kept her job in town, and Seamus went back to the mines. In his spare time, he worked at sinking the shaft towards what he was certain would be the mother lode. He never did find it, but his relationship with Bernadette did indeed prove to be the saving of him.
The section of land he had accepted as collateral on a loan that went bad. Although he hadn’t really thought about it as an investment (in fact he had no recollection of it at all), it turned out to be the soundest thing he had done in his life. The railroad came through headed for the west coast soon after he came into possession of the land, and although they didn’t want his land, it held a good bit of fine old timber, a mix of pine and cedar that would be just the thing for trestles and train depots. He contracted with the Northern Pacific Railroad to supply them with timbers and boards. He had some up-front money from the railroad, and bought a steam donkey engine and the makings for a small sawmill. If you ever visit La Grange, you can still see his timber, in the trestle over the slough just north of town. This was an exceptional opportunity for a couple of different reasons. Of course there was the immediate influx of money into the family coffers, but it also provided the impetus to develop a road to haul the timber on, and since he intended to stay in La Grange, was the means of clearing the land in preparation for farming. There were three different streams running through the property, which was almost perfectly flat. That in itself made for many hours of speculation on the local’s part. There were the hills, which were pretty much straight up and down, and in between the hills were the flats. The soil was extraordinarily rich, and thank the Good Lord, practically free of rocks. In a land mostly dominated by rocks, why was such a large area practically rock free? Seamus really didn’t care, he was just grateful to be the beneficiary of whatever circumstances had brought it about.
Seamus made out pretty well on the timber. With the money from the Railroad, he was able to build big farmhouse with a veranda and lots of Gingerbread. That house stands today. I suppose it was in a way because of that old house I ended up in this pondering mood. Although none of the family has lived on the place for years, the family lawyer, Rod Green, had called to ask if we were interested in selling the place and the quarter section it sits on. We had been renting it out to the Beauchene boys for several years. They grew hay on the flats and ran a few cow critters, raised pigs, did whatever it took to get by. They figured that between the two of them they should be able to buy the place in partnership rather than give my sister (Elizabeth Jones nee O’Neal) and me all that hard earned money. It had set up a family tussle over whether to sell or not.
“Patrick Frances O’Neal, you know mom and pop would roll over in their graves if you even contemplated such a thing” she shrilled. “Besides just what the Hell is wrong with the current situation? Ron runs things. We each get a monthly check. The land keeps going up in value. They are talking about putting the farmhouse on the National Historical Register, which will up the value even more.”
“Lizard Breath,” I shot back “You know the place needs a new roof, and there’s some dry rot in the underpinnings, and the taxes keep going up. If we do the maintenance, it is going to cost a bundle and we won’t make a cent profit for a bunch of years. If we sell out now, all those headaches go away. We could take the money and invest in something that could actually return some money for our trouble. Besides, you aren’t using your head; you are using your emotions.”
No one knows how to push each other’s buttons like family. We have learned exactly where and how hard to push to get just the result we are looking for. Liz likes to think of herself as the ultimate rational person, and I had just effectively hit below the belt. It worked. She spluttered and hissed for a few seconds before she strangled out “The answer’s still NO!” and hung up the phone with enough enthusiasm to keep my ear ringing for several minutes.
All this fuss and tussle had gotten the farm and family on my mind, and dumped me out at the end of a train of thought that led to Star.