To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 5

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 5

Janelle Spiers

We are drawing to a close in the story of Marjorie J. Riley and Evelyn O'Hara.  Check back with these links to previous installments to continue to relive this Roaring Twenties Story.

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 1

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 2

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 3

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 4

Marjorie J. Riley

Charity is a Curse

What am I supposed to do with a tiny child? 

What can I do that his family couldn’t? The

child moans softly in my arms as I sit in my

parlor.  His warm little body feels strange in

my arms.                                 I don’t know if 

I like it,                                    his holding on,

wet tears                                 on my dress. He

is quiet                                    now, in the

stillness                                   of my house.

His breathing deepens, and I feel sure that he

has cried himself to sleep. What do I do with a

tiny sleeping boy? “Make a bed, Ann.  He’s  

asleep.” I say, but mother wouldn’t approve.

Evelyn O’Hara

Void

I stagger through the darkness

back to the alleyway where I came from.

I feel cold, hurt, and sick. My body shakes.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

I lie down on my blanket and try

to feel warm, but I don’t have my warmth.

I left behind the only thing to warm my heart.

Marjorie J. Riley

What Have I Done?

What have I done to deserve this child? His

eyes are round and large and they watch me

silently as I watch him. He is so young and

small. Ann                               feeds him often, 

trying to                                   fatten him up.

Ann knows                               what children

are like. She                             had two, before

the war, but now they are gone. If I didn’t

have Ann, I never could keep this child. Keep

this child? I can’t keep him. I... I can’t....

Evelyn O’Hara

Creeping

I cannot get up, my body is too weak.

I will lose my job at the factory, but it does

not matter.  Nothing does, now. He is gone.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

John is gone, just like Phillip. John is happy, just like 

Phillip. They are both in a better place. I will see my 

husband soon, in a better place.

Marjorie J. Riley

What He Wanted

“Iss mamma wif de angels, now?”

His timid voice, the first words he had spoken,

they broke my heart. Is mamma with the

angels, now?                           “I don’t know.”

I have to say.                          His face is

grave. “My                             mamma see

God?” The child thinks his mother will die.

The poor boy. He wriggles closer to my side. 

I know now, relieved, Father would approve.

Evelyn O’Hara

Shadows

I shiver and shake. I moan and cough. Night is 

growing darker, the chill is growing colder.

I think of my John, warm in a light house.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

I pray to God to hide my boy from pain.

I pray to God to love my boy forever.

I pray to God to help me fight the shadows.

Marjorie J. Riley

Sweet Dreams

I pull Mother’s quilt over the little boy.

His eyes look sleepy but he holds my hand.

I smooth back his brown hair and kiss his

head. “Don’t go,”                    he says softly.

“It’s time for                           sleep.” His eyes

blink slowly.                           I dare to ask a 

question, heavy on my mind, “What’s your

name?” He sighs deep and holds tighter to me. 

“John.” Namesake of my father, given to me.

  

Evelyn O’Hara

Death

So much pain racks my body, but nothing like my 

Savior suffered. I see His face as I lie in the cold, lie 

in the dark, lie in the alleyway.

            Cough...

            Cough....