Author #1
[EDITOR's NOTE: It's a long one! But worth it
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Father Michael O’Hara looked over the rail of the ship as it rocked back and forth in the sea. His old face moved through each shade of green as he tried to hold back the meager rations he had earlier consumed from returning into his throat and onto the deck. Clasping his mouth once more when he felt his chin begin to quiver, he suddenly could not hold back any further and chunks of food, much of it undigested, spewed forth into the water below.
“You alright there, Father?” a midshipman asked, placing his hand on the priests back.
“I…I’ll be fine, my son. Have no worry about an old man such as myself. Just not used to sea travel, that is all.”
“We’ll, you’ll be lettin’ me know if you need anyting, won’t you? The Captain has made me your guardian until we land in Savannah. Won’t be long now, I suspect. A couple more hours and the storm will blow over and then it’s peaceful sailin’ all the way.”
“Bless you, my son. Go on about your business and don’t let me be a worry to you,” Father O’Hara begged as he tried to hold back another purge.
He made his way below deck once he felt his stomach relax and upon finding his small bunk, tried to read a bit of verse but was soon asleep, actually thankful for the rocking of the boat.
When he awoke, he was startled at first as none of the other crew could be seen. He had slept much longer than he anticipated and thought perhaps they might have already docked by now. Making his way onto the deck, he heard the cry signaling that land had been spotted.
“Now, that wasn’t too bad,” he said to himself, though he dreaded a possible return trip to Galway. Fixing his sights on the landmass that grew in the distance, he was shocked to find smoke rising from the docks. Grabbing the nearest sailor, he pointed and asked,
“What do you make of that?”
The sailor squinted and seemed confused at first, but then a look of horror came over his face. “It be a fire, father. It appears the town may be in flames.”
Without wasting a minute, the sailor was off and headed towards the Captains cabin to inform him of what they were approaching. Father O’Hara continued to look over the water and as the docks grew closer, he could clearly make out a raging fire in the eastern part of the small town that was quickly consuming the docks. And once he spied the center of this inferno, fear and anger poured into his brain like a river from a broken damn.
He was looking at the Church, built not two years prior and was to be his congregation. He was told that several missionaries had already been sent to try and educate the poor, unfortunate heathens that had been left from the original founding of the city, and also the Protestants left from the time of the English. What had happened to them, he wondered. What horrible act had occurred here?
Before he could find a suitable answer in his mind, the Captain was by his side. Father O’Hara turned to see Captain Finn dressed in his cleanest uniform, as if he has been on dry land for the past several weeks. His stature was tall and his demeanor was usually quite serious. Never one to linger without purpose, Captain Finn slapped the Father’s back with a hardy thud, “It looks like we shall have our work cut out for us, eh?”
Father O’Hara was momentarily stunned, as he did not know how to respond. Soon, the words began to come to him, “Captain, it appears that our work is null and void. My church seems to have been put to the torch and if this is the case, there cannot be a civilized man in inhabitance in this village.”
“Ahh, we shall see to it that civilization comes to them, be it heathen or English,” he replied with a rare smirk. Quickly, the Captain was away again, barking orders to his men. The ship soon found it’s way into the harbor and the anchor was cast. Crewmembers began lowering the boats to row to shore, and reluctantly, Father O’Hara was on the second with his guardian, the midshipman. Making their way to the shore beside the burnt out dock, the Captain was the first to plant his foot on the soil of the new country. The others followed in quick fashion and soon, the Royal Irish Marines were swarming the town before them.
Father O’Hara quickly produced his Bible, as though it was some sort of shield, and followed several men towards the church, or what was left of it. As they came closer, he was shocked to see bodies piled in front of the alter, now visible. They were engulfed in flames and it was quite clear to O’Hara who these men were.
“My missionaries have been killed,” he shouted to the nearest soldier. “What Godless souls could do such a thing?” He almost began to weep as they surely had not received their last rights, but he held it back. With a newfound energy, he began reciting the words to the Lord’s Prayer in Latin. The men around him had no idea what he was saying, but they recognized liturgical speech when they heard it and reacted with respect. As the Father finished his prayers for the dead men, Captain Finn walked up behind him.
“Father, I cannot express my sadness enough for what has transpired here, but rest assured that those responsible will be rounded up and forced to pay the penalty. We have fought the English for too long to allow their insidious agents to poison our gains here in the new world.”
“Are you saying that the English did this?” O’Hara asked with dismay.
“None other,” the Captain replied as he produced a small portrait of the King of England that might have been carried by one of the perpetrators. “We found it among some dead men not fifty paces from here. Your missionaries were brave souls, Father, and they did not die without a fight. In the end, they were overwhelmed, but they took a few with them into the hereafter. Praise be to God that the city itself has been saved. My men are quelling the flames as we speak and we shall have to begin again. But with a man of your stature, surely we shall be successful this time.”
Father O’Hara looked up at the tall Captain. He could see the seriousness in his eyes, but he felt doubt in his own heart. Was it doubt concerning the conversion of the heretics? Was it doubt about the fitness of this man before him? Or was it doubt about God? He did not know. He crossed himself and said quietly, “Let us hope so, Captain. Let us hope so.”
