A life's work

Days and months passed as Seamus tried more and more to become an American. His biggest problem, so he felt, was that every time he opened his mouth people would always says something like, "You're from Ireland" or "You don't sound like an American." This hurt Seamus some, but he tried not to let it bother him. It also bothered him that he had not yet heard from his family back in Ireland. He wondered how they were getting along and what they were doing. One day, however, it all changed. After Paul Walsh had left on the train for Oakland Seamus stopped by the Post Office to see if there was any mail. The clerk answered,

"You're in luck today. This letter arrived from Ireland and is for you. Is it from your family?"

Seamus was so excited that he grabbed the letter and ran outside and up his favorite hill. Before he opened the letter he got comfortable and looked at the envelope for several minutes. Finally he carefully opened the envelope, trying not to tear the paper too much. He recognized his mother's handwriting. He must have read the letter at least five times before he folded it and put it back in the envelope.

Dear Seamus,

Thank you for writing the letter. We just got it the other day and we were all happy to hear from you. Everyone here sends their love. Martin, Yvonne, Breda, Paul, and Tomas are all doing well. Your father's grave is being taken care of. Sometimes Martin goes there during the week and after Mass we go there and pray for your father and for you. You be good with Beatrice. I hope that you are working hard, but Yvonne still worried that you should go to school. Are you going to Mass? Your friends Brian and Harry sometimes come over and say hello to you. Pat and Liam live too far away so I don't see them too much. Constable Ryan asked me to marry him, but I am not too sure about that. I don't know what your father would think about that. Well, I guess that I had better go now. Please pray for me over there in America. I love you very much.

Love,

Your mother

Of course, Seamus was happy to get this letter but he was especially happy to hear

that Constable had asked his mother to marry him. Ever since that fateful day last November Seamus had hoped that his mother might marry the constable. He understood how she could think that his father might not approve, but he was sure that his father would approve. He decided that he would have to write a letter that very day to his mother and tell her how happy he was to think that maybe she and the constable would get married.

By the time that he had come down the hill, Seamus decided that rather than write a letter and have it take several months to arrive in Ireland, he would use some of the money that he had been saving and send his mother a telegram. That would get there much quicker. It was more expensive, but it was worth it. He went to the Post Office and asked where he would go to send a telegram to Ireland. Told that he could send it from the Post Office itself, Seamus told the clerk,

"Ok, then, I'll be back in ten minutes."

With that he flew out of the Post Office and ran up the hill to his home. Grabbing some money from his desk, he ran back to the Post Office and, completely out of breath, told the clerk,

"I want to send a telegram to my mother in Ireland."

"I hope everything is all right back with your family. Is there some trouble?"

"No, sir, my Ma is going to get married again and I just want to tell her that I am very happy."

The clerk gave Seamus the form that had to be completed. Seamus went outside and, sitting on the bench, wrote this telegram:

To: Margaret Gilchrist

Care of: Constable Ryan

Constable's Office

Cahirciveen, Co. Kerry, Ireland

Got your letter Ma and am happy. Da would like marriage. Don't wait. Want you to be happy. Still working hard. Beautiful church here. Love Seamus

Seamus dared to hope that this might help his mother feel better about marrying Constable Ryan. So, he took it back to the clerk who carefully counted all of the letters and spaces in the telegram before calculating its cost. Seamus gladly paid the bill and hoped that the telegram would arrive back home as soon as possible.

That evening when Seamus heard the whistle of the train, he grabbed his letter and ran down to the train tracks. He wanted to show it to Paul immediately. But as he watched the arrival of the train from Oakland he was very surprised who he saw step out of the car. He wondered if his eyes were playing a trick on him. Seamus liked well enough to talk and talk, but right now he was speechless. Finally he blurted out,

"Is that really you?"

The man laughed and said,

"Well, I hope it is me, at least that is what I remember. I'm Pat Mahon, from Cork, we were in Room 104 on the Baltic together. Remember? Pat Mahon? I bet you forgot me already!"

Seamus was still speechless, but finally he was able to say,

"No, Pat, I remember you. Of course I remember you. It's just that I did not expect to see you coming here. How did you get here?"

"On the train, you fool! Didn't you just seem me step off the train? How did I get here? I surely didn't swim the Strait here now did I?"

"Pat, you're welcome, very welcome! Paul, thanks for bringing Pat here."

Paul smiled and said,

"Ok, you two, let's go home and see what we can fix for dinner."

As they headed back to Paul's house, Pat told Seamus what he had been up to the past months. He told Seamus how he was enrolling in Saint Mary's College in Oakland and how he was going to study to become a teacher, just like he had spoken about back in Queenstown.

"But how did you find me?" Seamus wanted to know.

"When we left Angel Island I saw you get onto the ferry. I wasn't too far behind you and when I saw you go right to the train station with your friend. It looked to me like your friend worked there so I figured that if I went to the train station some day I would wait until I saw your friend. So, that is what I did and that is how I am here."

"Pat, this is great that you have come today. I just got a letter from my Ma and you're here. Wow!"

By now they arrived at Paul's home and after a quick dinner, Paul sent Seamus and Pat out for a walk, to catch up on the months since they arrived in America. Paul said that he would clean up after dinner. The two boys headed out the door and down towards the water. Seamus told Paul about living in Port Costa and the jobs that he had from the people. He told them about his friends in town Bob Jones and Carlos Diaz. He told Pat about how he had gone into Martinez one day with Carlos' sister Maria and had eaten tamales with her grandmother.

"Tamales? What pray are tamales?"

Seamus patiently explained,

"Tamales are some kind of Mexican food that have meat in the center with corn dough around the outside. They are wrapped in cornhusks and they you heat them up. Maria's grandmother poured some kind of green sauce over them before we ate. Boy were they ever hot. I mean, not hot like cooking hot, but spicy hot. I drank a lot of water then!"

"I bet you did, but did you like them? Were they any good?"

Seamus tried not to say anything bad about the tamales because he knew that Maria and her grandmother were happy to serve them, but finally he had to admit,

"No, I really didn't like them much, but I ate them because Maria and her grandmother are so nice that it would have been impolite to refuse."

"So this Maria, Seamus, is she your girlfriend now?"

Seamus blushed redder than his hair. He hoped that Pat would not notice, but he did.

"Ah, I can tell I've hit something. She must be your girlfriend, she must!"

Seamus tried to change the topic of conversation by getting Pat to tell him about his life in Oakland. Pat told him how he was living with some cousins near some water called Lake Merritt. Sometimes he would walk all around the lake and talk to the people who came down there to eat or enjoy some walking. Pat told Seamus that the lake was not as pretty as the Lakes of County Kerry, but still it was a nice place. Pat told Seamus about going down to Saint Mary College and speaking with the Brothers about going to school. In a few days time he was going to start his courses and he still hoped to become a teacher.

"Pat," Seamus asked, "Can I ask you a question? What about your father? I have worried about you and him. Is everything ok? I mean, I know he died, but you'd never talk about him on the Baltic and that scared me."

Pat waved his hand towards Seamus and said, "Just a moment."

They walked along the railroad tracks for a few minutes in silence. Finally Pat spoke up,

"Seamus, my father was young like yours but some guy came by our home one night and accused him of cheating on his marriage with his wife. I was not home when it all happened, but there was some kind of fight and my father was hurt pretty bad. He was taken to a hospital in Cork City and he was there for a couple of weeks. Finally day while I was visiting him he looked at me and tried to say something, but then he fell back on his bed and died. I called the nursing sister, but there was nothing they could do. They called the priest and he came for the Last Rites, but my father was dead. I don't know if he really cheated with that guy's wife, but now my father is dead."

"What happened to the other guy?"

"Oh, they arrested him and he is in jail right now, where he belongs. But I told my Ma that I had to leave. I said that I felt bad every time I walked abut town people would look at me and point their fingers. I knew what they were talking about and I told my Ma that I had to go and get away from it all. So, here I am, but I have a favor to ask of you, Seamus."

Seamus wondered what the favor possibly could be.

"Seamus, I've told nobody else about my father and please, just don't be telling anyone else, will you?"
"Pat, you can count on me. Your secret is safe with me. But I will be praying for you and for your father, especially when I pray for my father, OK?

Struggling to fight back the tears, Pat got out,

"Thanks!"

As it started to turn dark, Seamus and Pat headed back to town and up to his home with Paul. Seamus and Paul apologized for the lack of comfort, but all they had for Pat to sleep on was the couch. Pat was just grateful that he would have a decent place to rest before returning to Oakland on the morning train.

The next morning after seeing Paul and Pat off on the morning train, Seamus went back to his room. He didn't have any jobs scheduled for that day and so he thought that he would relax and do nothing. Several hours later, just after he had finished a bowl of oatmeal, there was a knock on the door. Robert Martin, the sheriff, was standing there. When Seamus opened the door for him to come in, Seamus noticed that he was very solemn.

"Seamus, your friend Paul had to go to the hospital this morning after he arrived in Oakland. I do not know too much about what happened, but evidently he somehow fainted and hurt himself. They took him up to Providence Hospital where there are some wonderful nuns that take care of sick people."

"But, Sheriff, is he all right? I mean, he'll get better, won't he? Can I go see him?"

"Seamus, right now I only know what I was told by the train conductor when he came through town a short time ago. I think that maybe you'd better wait until tomorrow before you go to see him. Maybe the Sisters will want to help him today get relaxed or whatever. If you like, I have to go to Oakland the day after tomorrow and you can come with me then and we can go and see Paul."

"Thank you, Mr. Martin, thank you very much. You tell me when you are going to Oakland and I will be ready."

For the rest of that day and the one following Seamus found it hard to concentrate. He did help one lady fix her wood pile for the coming winter and then he went down to Saint Patrick's and pulled some weeds that were growing in the flower beds that surrounded the church. After that he tried to eat something, but he was too worried abut Paul. He had never been to a hospital before and the only time that he had seen a doctor was when he registered for the trip on the Baltic. He kept praying and asking God to protect Paul.

When Mr. Martin came to his home early the next morning, Seamus was ready and waiting for him. He did not talk much on the way to Oakland nor while they rode a trolley car down Broadway to Providence Hospital. When they walked into the lobby of the hospital a small nun asked if she could help them. Told that they wanted to see Paul Walsh, she asked Paul and Seamus to follow her. She led them down several long corridors. Finally she opened a double door. Another Sister took them to the end of the room where Paul was lying on a bed. When he saw them coming, he weakly smiled and said,

"And just what do you think you are doing here?"

Seamus replied,

"I was going to ask you just that. What happened?"

"Boy, I wish I could tell you, but I do not know. The doctor said that maybe I could go home soon enough, but right now I do not know really what happened. So, you need to go and take care of the place and keep earning money. Will you be a good boy then and do this?"

With all of the dignity he could muster Seamus said,

"Of course I will do this and more! I will even pray for you when Mass is read at Saint Patrick's and when I say some other prayers, but til you come home, can I come and visit you again?"

Paul tried to smile and said,

"You need to ask the Sister. She the boss here and you do what she says or else!"

Paul tried to laugh, but then he started to cough and the Sister came and said that they had better leave now. Before they left, Seamus asked the Sister if he could please first say a prayer. Sister nodded and when Seamus said the Our Father and Hail Mary, both Sister and Sheriff Martin joined in. The prayers finished, Seamus left the hospital in silence, worried for his friend's health.

For several days Seamus did the best he could to stay busy and not worry too much about Paul, but he was worried. Finally he decided that he could wait no longer and one morning he took the train into Oakland and went directly to the hospital. The Sister in the lobby took him back to Paul's bed and immediately Seamus sensed that Paul was weaker. He was not getting better and he wondered what was happening. When Paul finally woke up he smiled at Seamus and said,

"Ah, you've come to see an old man who is dying..."

"But you're not dying!"

"Seamus, yes I am. The doctors told me that I had a small heart attack and it hurt my heart too much. They said that there was nothing they could do for me. They have given me some medicine so that it doesn't hurt too much, but the end is here for me. As for you, my boy, you are just getting going and I have two requests. First, you're a fine carpenter just like your father before you. Nothing would bring greater joy to my heart right now than to know that you would build a coffin for me to be buried in. Will you do this for me?"

Seamus looked at Paul wondering if his hearing was going bad. He didn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to say something, but he could not find the words to say.

So, Paul continued,

"Yes, Seamus, I am not going to live too much longer and I want yu to build the coffin for me and then make sure that I have a decent Christian Burial at Saint Catherine's Cemetery in Martinez. You remember when we walked by it?"

Seamus nodded his head in agreement and Paul continued,

"Second, Seamus, there is the house there in Port Costa. I bought that house after I came here. Since my beloved Clare is already dead, God rest her soul, there is nobody in my family to take that house. So, I have written this paper and when I die you must go to a lawyer and give him the paper and he will help you so that you will then own that house. It will be your home for your family. Do you understand this?"

"But Paul, I thought that you would come here and get better. You can't die."

Paul tried to smile and said,

"Seamus, yes I can die just like some day many, many years in the future you are going to die. But right now I want you to promise me that you will build a coffin for me and will keep this paper very safe until you give it to a lawyer when I die. Will you do this for me, please?"

With tears welling up in his eyes Seamus ever so softly told Paul that he would build him a coffin, one just like his father had been buried in on Old Dromid Cemetery back home. As for the paper that Paul had given him, he did not want to think about that right now. Paul insisted, however, that he take the paper and keep it safe back home in Port Costa.

For three weeks Paul remained in the hospital. Back in Port Costa, in the small shed that was on Paul's property, Seamus began to build a coffin for Paul. At first he felt very odd building a coffin for someone that was still alive. He almost felt like he was trying to push Paul over the brink to death. But as he thought about it more and more, building the coffin became a way that he cold show his respect for Paul and thank him for all of the help that he had been given in his new life in America. Seamus carefully cut he boards and nailed them together. He sanded the edges so that everything was smooth as smooth could be. When it was finished he carefully stained the coffin and then took several large table clothes that Paul had stored away and lined the inside of the coffin. He took a pillow from the closet and put in at the head of the coffin. When it was all done Seamus took two small boards and fashioned them into a cross when he carefully nailed to the lid of the coffin and stepped back and looked at his handiwork. He smiled and hoped that his father would be proud of what he had learned from him. This coffin was not a piece of woodworking that you would want to throw dirt on, but that is what would happen. Well, God in His Divine Providence has other plans and may His Holy Will be praised!

That Sunday after Mass Seamus told Father Murphy, the prior of Saint Dominic's in Benicia, about Paul and how he had asked him to build a coffin for him and thathe had done just that.

"May I see it, please?"

"Sure, Father, it's just down the street a little ways."

When Father Murphy came out of the church after removing his vestments, he still had on his white Dominican Robes and together they headed for Paul's house. The shed was just to the left of the house and while Father Murphy waited, Paul went into the house and got the key to the shed. When he showed Father Murphy the coffin he had built, Father Murphy just rubbed his hands on it and asked,

"You did this, did you? All by yourself? May I see the inside?"

Seamus lifted the lid off and Father Murphy continued to marvel at the beauty and dignity of this homemade coffin. Seamus asked him,

"So, Father, is it ok? I mean, is this going to be all right for Paul?"

"All right? Seamus, this is a magnificent piece of work. Who taught you this?"

"My Da, my father, was a carpenter back home and he taught me many things about working with wood and so I just remembered what my Da's coffin looked like and this is what I built."

"Seamus, you should be very proud of your work here. I know that Paul would be very pleased to know that he is going to his eternal and blessed reward in such a fine coffin."

"But, Father, what do I do with this now? How do I get it to Oakland where Paul is and just what do I do with it. It seems pretty strange to have this out in the shed while I am sleeping in a decent bed inside."

"The name of the Undertakers in Martinez is Connolly's and you should go talk to them and let them have it. I am sure that is who will take care of Paul when he dies. Where is he going to be buried?"

"Saint Catherine's in Martinez, on the Snake Road. Do you know the place, Father?"

Father Murphy smiled and told Seamus that he knew the place well. He had buried many people there.

"Indeed I know that place well!"

The next morning Seamus walked into Martinez. He did not know where Connolly's Undertakers was located, but he figured that once he got there he would find someone who could give him directions. When he arrived in Martinez he first went to the California Savings Bank and asked the teller where Connolly's could be found. The undertakers were just a few blocks away so he headed off looking for a sign that simply read "Connolly's Undertakers - Compassion in your time of need."

When he found the undertakers, he stopped at the door. This felt so funny to go in and talk with someone about burying Paul while he was still alive. It just did not seem right, but Seamus knew there was no other way. He knocked on the door and went in. Mr. Connolly was a very kind man and patiently listened as Seamus told him about Paul dying over at Providence Hospital in Oakland and how he had asked Seamus to build him a coffin and how he had done just that. He told Mr. Connolly that Father Murphy had said he should come over to see him and maybe he, Mr. Connolly, could come and get the coffin and store it in Martinez until Paul needed it. Mr. Connolly told Seamus that this would not be a problem and that sometime when he was out on business he would come by Port Costa with his hearse and bring the coffin to Martinez. Grateful for Mr. Connolly's understanding, Seamus shook his hand, thanked him, and then headed back to Port Costa.

Several days later Seamus saw the oddest vehicle coming down the road into Port Costa. Pulled by a horse, it was long and rectangular and had sides and a roof of glass on the carriage. Fancy woodcarving adorned the edges of the glass panels. Since he had never seen something like this before he was not sure what to make of it. When it got closer to him he recognized Mr. Connolly from the Undertakers in Martinez.

"Seamus, it's good to see you. I wasn't sure where you lived over here so I am glad that you were out and about. Hop up here and we'll go get that coffin you built for your friend Paul Walsh."

When Seamus was settled in beside Mr. Connolly he asked him,

"What is this vehicle? I never seen anything like it before."

"This is called a hearse. We use it to bring the coffin to the Church for the funeral and then to the cemetery afterwards. It makes things look a little nicer and fancier for the families just when they are feeling sad."

Seamus smiled at this and thought back to that day when the McCarthys graciously loaned their carriage to the Gilchrists so that Colm could be brought to his final resting place in Old Dromid Cemetery. This hearse was a nice thing, but he still liked the carriage his father went on.

He told Mr. Connolly to turn to the right at Erskine Street and pull in front of the small blue shed. Seamus jumped off and told him to wait a moment while he ran into the house for the key. When the door was opened Mr. Connolly said,

"All right, let's see what kind of coffin builder you are."

As he looked over the woodwork of the coffin Seamus had built, he was impressed, very impressed. He looked over every inch of the coffin before he finally said,

"Young man, you did this? All by yourself?"

"Yes, sir! My father taught me a little about carpentry and when I made this coffin I just thought of the one my father is buried in."

"Well, this is an excellent piece of work. Sometimes when people make their own coffins they really do not do a good job and I worry that the bottom will fall out. Can you imagine that happening? But with this one there is no problem. You have done fine work. You should be proud of yourself."

Seamus smiled and just said,

"Thank you, sir, Mr. Connolly."

With that he helped Mr. Connolly load the coffin into the hearse and watched it head up the street and towards the Snake Road back to Martinez. All he could think of is the day when the undertaker would have to use it for Paul Walsh's funeral.

Unfortunately, that day was not long in coming. Just a day after the coffin had been taken to the undertakers, Robert Martin, the sheriff, came to the door of Paul's house. He knocked on the door. He heard Seamus cry out, "Just a minute, please!"

When he came to the door and opened it for the sheriff he saw that the sheriff did not look happy.

"Seamus, I'm sorry but your friend Paul died early this morning at the hospital in Oakland. I just got the word from the conductor. I'm sorry, so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Paul's dead? He died this morning?"

Sheriff Martin quietly nodded his head as Seamus looked at him in disbelief.

"He's dead! Well, God have mercy on his soul, God have mercy on his soul. What am I going to do now?"

The sheriff pointed to the table and said,

"Can we sit down?"

"Yes, of course, please, sit."

For a moment there was an almost painful silence. It was broken when Seamus told the sheriff,

"You know, when I saw Paul last week in the hospital he asked me to make a coffin for him. He said that he wanted to be buried in Saint Catherine's on the Snake Road in Martinez and that being buried in my work made him feel better. Then, just yesterday, Mr. Connolly from the undertakers in Martinez came over here and took the coffin to his office in town. Now I am going to have to tell him that it is ready to be used. Paul said that he was going to die, but I never thought that it would happen this soon. He also gave me this paper and said that I should read it after he died. Mr. Martin, will you please read it?"

Seamus handed the sheriff the paper that Seamus had been keeping on the table under a bowl of sugar. The sheriff took the paper and carefully read its contents. Towards the end he smiled and looked at Seamus,

"You're a very lucky man, Seamus."

"Why? What does it say?"

The sheriff cleared his throat and read:

My Last Will and Testament

I, Paul Kevin Walsh, of Port Costa, California, formerly of County Kerry, Ireland, do hereby declare that this is my last will and testament.

Being of sound mind and without any family since the death of my beloved Clare Walsh, will and give to Seamus Patrick Gilchrist my home and property in Port Costa, California, on Erskine Street for his own personal use and benefit.

I wish to have a Funeral Mass celebrated for the happy repose of my soul in Saint Patrick's Church in Port Costa and to be buried in Saint Catherine's Cemetery in Martinez in the plot that I have already purchased. I direct that the expenses of my death and burial be paid from the money I have on deposit in the California Savings Bank in Martinez, California. Anything remaining in my bank account is to be given to Seamus Gilchrist for his personal use and benefit.

Witness my signature this 28th day of October in the year of our Lord 1899.

Paul K. Walsh

"What does that mean? This is now my place?"

"That is exactly what it means. You will have to see a lawyer in Martinez and get all of this filed with the filed with the courts, but, yes, you now own this building. This is your home now!"

Seamus did not know what to think. He got up and walked around Paul Walsh's little home and tried to understand that a few minutes ago this was Paul Walsh's and now it was his. He felt bad because he didn't think that he had done anything to deserve this. He thought back to the death of his father, almost a year ago now. He was grateful for all of the kindness of the people of the Valley of Cummeragh. They had helped his mother and family in such a wonderful when his father died. Now Paul died and he had nobody. He was all alone in the world and had died by himself.

Seamus sat down and wiped away the tears in his eyes. After a few moments, Sheriff Martin spoke up and said,

"May I make a suggestion? You should go into Martinez and speak to the undertaker and make arrangements with them. They will have to go to Oakland to get the body and then bring it back and prepare it for burial. If you like, I will get in touch with the priest over at Saint Dominic's in Benicia and tell him that we are going to need to have a Funeral Mass over here later in the week."

"Please. Will you do that for me? I guess that I had better get going and get to Martinez and see the undertaker." As he shook his head, Seamus said, this is almost too much to imagine. I came to America to have a better life and now I am going to bury Paul. Well, God be praised. I'm going to do it right for Paul and that's it! Thank you, Sheriff, for coming and for all your help."

With that Seamus shook the sheriff's hand and headed for the door. He headed up the street towards Port Costa School and the sheriff headed for his office, which was near the Post Office. As Seamus walked to Martinez he took his rosary out of his pocket and began to pray the Sorrowful Mysteries for the happy repose of Paul's soul. When he arrived at the undertaker's place, he found that the door was locked. This annoyed him a bit, but it was not five minutes before Mr. Connolly returned. Ushering Seamus into his office, he asked,

"Are you here, young man, for the reason why I think you might be here?"

"Paul Walsh died this morning in Oakland, at Providence Hospital and now we have to bury him in Saint Catherine's in that coffin that I built for him."

"I'm very sorry to hear this. But I want you to know that I will take good care of your friend. Will the Funeral Mass be here at Saint Catherine's Church?"

"No, he wanted the Mass at Saint Patrick's in Port Costa, if that's acceptable."

"Indeed it is. If you will please sign this paper, I will go into Oakland and get the body and bring it back here. Now, when will we have the Funeral Mass?"

"I don't know yet. The sheriff was going to contact the priest at Saint Dominic's and see when they can come over. I hope that we can have the Mass this coming Friday, if it is possible. Also, Paul owns a burial plot in Saint Catherine's Cemetery."

"That's fine. I will contact the church and have the sexton prepare the grave. If you like, I will contact Saint Dominic's and see when a priest can come for the Mass."

"Thank you, Mr. Connolly. I appreciate your help. It's just that I did not think that we would have to use that coffin so soon."

"I know, I know. This is never easy, but everything will be all right, you just wait and see."

As Seamus headed back to Port Costa he again took out his rosary and prayed for Paul Walsh, but mostly he prayed for himself. He had come to America to begin a new life. He thought that he would live with Paul just until he was able to save enough money and send some back home to his family and get his own place. Now, he had his own place and some money, but only because Paul had died, way over in Oakland, all by himself. This really bothered Seamus, but he knew that somehow God's providence would work things out. After all, at least Paul had died in a hospital named Providence. But even so, he still did not have a regular job. Now that he was really alone in America he would have to see what he could do about that.

As he headed back into town, several people stopped him along the way and offered their prayers and sympathy. Seamus was amazed that the news of Paul's death had spread so quickly. Some of the people asked if there was anything they could do, but at the moment Seamus was so confused about all of the things happening he kindly refused the offers of help. However, the people always told him that if something came up, they would be happy to help.

The next morning, Wednesday, he thought that he had better go into town and see what the undertaker had been able to arrange for Paul's Funeral. Arriving at the Undertaker's Office, he was glad to see that this time Mr. Connolly was in. Mr. Connolly told him that he had brought Paul's body back to the Funeral Parlor and that the coffin was perfect. He also said that he had been in touch with Father Murphy at Saint Dominic's and that they would wake Paul Thursday evening at Seven and that the Funeral Mass would be Friday morning at nine-thirty. After the Mass, they would take the body to Saint Catherine's for burial.

"And you'll be telling me how much I owe you, will you please?"

"I will, but that can come later. Right now, would you like to see the body?"

Seamus was not sure if he wanted to do that, but then he remembered how he had gazed on his father's face in his home back in Ireland.

"Yes, if it is possible."

Mr. Connolly took Seamus to one of the rooms in the funeral parlor where Seamus' coffin was resting on a small table. A cross was hanging behind it and two candles were on either side. Seamus went up to the coffin and looked down at the lifeless body of Paul Walsh. He turned to Mr. Connolly and asked,

"Can I be alone with him for a few minutes, please?"

"Of course, please excuse me."

When Mr. Connolly shut the door behind him, Seamus made the Sign of the Cross and began to pray the Rosary for Paul. As he said the prayers over and over again, he thanked Paul for everything that he had done for him and he promised that he would take good care of Paul's home in Port Costa.

On Thursday, before Father Murphy came over for the wake, Seamus was busy greeting many people who came by the home and offered prayers and good wishes. His face really lit up when Maria came by. She was carrying a small box and when she came into the house she said,

"My abuela heard about your Paul's death and she sent over these tamales. She was worried that maybe you might forget to eat and she said that was not a good thing since she thinks you're too skinny!"

Seamus laughed and said,

"Maria, will you be thanking your aboooo...."

"abuela -- grandmother"

"Yes, grandmother, will you thank your grandmother for me? Tell her I am very grateful."

"Yes, I will tell her, but maybe sometime you can tell her yourself. When she gave me these tamales she asked when I was going to bring my gringo friend over again."

"Gringo???"

"Well, that means, I think, my American friend. My grandmother loves to cook and she wants to make you fat I guess!"

Seamus laughed and told Maria,

"Well, I don't know about that. I might have to eat a lot of your grandmother's cooking before I become fat!"

"Well, you think about it, ok?"

Just then Father Murphy came to the door and Seamus welcomed him inside. Maria bowed to Father Murphy, kissed his hand, and told Seamus that she would be there in that evening for the wake at Saint Patrick's.

"Seamus, now I can only stay a moment, but tonight we'll be praying the Rosary for Paul and I will tell people about the Funeral Mass. We won't be able to have a Solemn Mass, but it will be a fine send-off for Paul anyway. After the Mass you can ride with me to Saint Catherine's for the Burial. On the way back to Port Costa I have something that I want to talk to you about and that will be the prefect time, ok?"

Seamus wondered what Father Murphy wanted to talk to him about, but he decided that it would wait until tomorrow. Right now he had to get ready for the Wake. He asked Father Murphy if he could use the hall under the Church after the rosary so that people could have something to eat after the prayers.

"I've got so much good food here that people have brought to me and I don't want to waste it."

"No, my boy, you don't want to do that. Let's bring the food there now and get ready."

Seamus and Father Murphy took the food up to the Church and arranged the parish hall for a small reception. When he was finished, Seamus went to take a nap before facing the ordeal of Paul's wake.

When he heard the bell of Saint Patrick's begin to ring, Seamus hurriedly got ready for the Wake and dashed off to the Church. There were not too many people inside, but they were all people that Seamus knew. The Martin Family had come and Maria and Carlos came too. He smiled at them and went to the front pew. Paul's coffin was already lying between six orange candles in the middle aisle at the front of the church. This was just like it had been in Mastergeehy Church for his father and this pleased Seamus very much. After the Rosary was finished he invited everyone downstairs to have something to eat.

"...and you must all come and eat because if you don't then I'm going to have to eat it all myself and that might make me fat!"

As he said this he winked at Maria and the people all laughed.

Friday morning Seamus was distressed because it was lightly raining. This was not the bright and beautiful day that had dawned for his father's Funeral. However, there was nothing that could be done about it. He would have to make the best of the situation.

About 25 people had come to the Funeral Mass and Seamus was glad for that. At least the rain did not keep them away. As Seamus went inside, he first greeted Mr. Connolly in the vestibule and thanked him for coming from Martinez. The Funeral Mass in Saint Patrick's was just like his father's funeral in Mastergeehy. The only difference was that Mabel Povey was not there to play the organ. As nice as Mabel many have been and as much as music helped make a Funeral more pleasant, Seamus was glad that he did not have to listen to her play at the Mass this morning.

When Father Murphy finished the final prayers, Mr. Connolly came forward, turned Paul's coffin around, and motioned for help to bring the coffin to the rear and to load it into the hearse that was parked right outside. Seamus stepped forward as did his friend Carlos and two other men whose names he did not know. Since Seamus had never seen them before in Port Costa, he thought that they must have come from Oakland for the Mass.

Once the coffin was secure inside the hearse, Father Murphy returned to the Church for a few moments. Wearing his Dominican robes, he motioned for Seamus to join him in his carriage for the trip to the cemetery. Seamus was grateful for the umbrella that Father had given him. At least he would not be soaked by the time that he reached Saint Catherine's. It was sad, however, that it would only be the hearse and Father Murphy going to the cemetery. The weather just was not cooperating as it had on the day Seamus' father was buried.

As the short funeral procession pulled into Saint Catherine's, Seamus wondered why they halted. Was there a problem? Did Mr. Connolly know where he was supposed to go for Paul's grave? Umbrella in hand, Seamus hopped off Father Murphy's carriage and went up to the hearse and asked Mr. Connolly,

"Why have we stopped? What's going on? Do you know where the grave is?"

"I know where the grave is, but do you see how it is raining and how steep the path is and so wet and slippery? I'm afraid that if we try to do directly to the grave the hearse will slip backwards. I've got a good horse here, but this is more than he can handle, I fear. Paul was not a small man and so it's pretty heavy."

Mr. Connolly studied the problem for a moment and then told Seamus,

"I think that what we have to do is to go up a little ways and then I'll turn to the right and go over the graves. Paul's grave is in that section to our right, five rows up, just there by the large tree. We're going to have to go back and forth over the graves or else we might get hurt. I don't think that the dead people will mind that too much and it will keep the hearse as level as possible. So, instead of going to the grave straight, we will zigzag back and forth. You tell Father Murphy to wait a moment until I get going before he comes up. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, I know what you mean. I'll tell Father Murphy what the problem is and what you are going to do."

As the hearse was pulled into Saint Catherine's and up the hill for just a short distance, Seamus immediately saw how difficult this was going to be. He could see that the horse was straining to go up just a few feet to the first row of graves. At one point it looked as though he was going to loose his footing and allow the hearse to slip back into the large gravestones that were at the entrance to the cemetery. Thankfully, he made it to the first row and was able to proceed up to the fifth row where Paul's grave was waiting. As Mr. Connolly turned the hearse into the fourth row, Father Murphy began his slow trip to the grave. What should have been a short, quick to Paul's grave became a long, drawn-out affair.

When Seamus arrived at the grave with Father Murphy he helped bring Paul's coffin to the grave. Just as he had done for his father, he laid the coffin next to the grave and then stood near Father Murphy as he said the prayers. Father Murphy, mindful of bad weather, seemed to be racing through the prayers as quickly as possible, or so it seemed to Seamus. When he was finished praying, Father Murphy nodded to Mr. Connolly who motioned the two workers from Saint Catherine's Church to come over and lower the coffin into the grave and fill it in with dirt. Where he had helped fill in his father's grave, this time he just watched and prayed and the workers did the job. When they was finished filling in the grave, Seamus went over to Mr. Connolly and thanked him for everything. The he added,

"I'll be in next week to settle accounts and make sure you're taken care of, I promise."

Mr. Connolly smiled and said,

"Young man, I'm not worried about that. Take your time. You know where I am and I know where you are."

Seamus started to walk over to Father Murphy's carriage when he suddenly turned around and returned to the grave. Even if they were being paid to work on a miserable day like it was, Seamus wanted to thank the two workers.

"Gentlemen, I just want to thank you for coming out on a day like this. I appreciate you're taking care of my friend very much."

Looking very surprised, the workers just said, "You're welcome."

On the way back to Port Costa, Father Murphy asked Seamus,

"What are you doing to keep yourself busy? Do you have a job?"

"No, Father, not a regular job, but I do try to help out around town and people pay me for doing things for t hem. Paul had me open an account at California Savings Bank and I think that I have about $150.00 saved up."

Father Murphy thought a moment and then said,

"Seamus, I want to offer you a job over in Benicia. We have a large priory over there and there is a lot of repairs that need to be made and I think you can do the job. You can help take care of the Church and the Priory, not by yourself mind you, but with a group of the brothers. Also, right away I need you to build me a coffin..."

"Father, you're not dying are you?"

"No, my boy, I am not dying, but Brother Matthew died early this morning and you do better work than the undertakers over in Benicia. I want you to build a coffin for Brother Matthew so that we can lay him to rest in a decent coffin with the other friars in the community cemetery."

"But, Father, I live over here in Port Costa. You know, Paul gave me the house since he doesn't have any family left. I guess that it's like I'm his only family."

Father Murphy waved his hand and said,

"Not a problem. You live here in Paul's house, no I mean your house, and then when you come to work, you can get a small boat to take you across the Carquinez Strait when you need to go Saint Dominic's. They aren't too expensive and you will still be able to save your money. What about it? In fact, why don't you come over with me now and see Saint Dominic's and then you can decide."

Seamus agreed to return to Saint Dominic's to see the work that needed to be done and to decide if he would be able to do this job. As they crossed the Strait in a small ferry boat, Seamus was amazed at how good God was to him. It seemed like one door closed and then another would open. Dear God, he prayed, please help me know if this is right for me. Is this what you want? Do you want me to work at Saint Dominic's? How am I going to find my wife and get married? I want to be a good Catholic, I do, but I don't think that You want me to be a priest, do you? Da, what should I do? Do you think that I know enough to take Father Murphy's job? Did I really learn what you taught me?

As they docked in Benicia, Seamus asked where that Church was. Father Murphy pointed to the right and said,

"Over that way, about a half mile away."

Just as he had done when steaming into San Francisco Bay Seamus tried to take in everything. Finally they turned a corner and Father Murphy proudly pointed to the Church and said,

"There it is. Welcome to Saint Dominic's!"

Little did Seamus realize at that moment what this parish and priory would come to mean to him for the rest of his life.




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