The Spells of Paradise

Chapter 5: In the Hands of an Angry God

Chapter 5: In the Hands of an Angry God

Charlestown, South Carolina

John returned home to an empty house at the end of the working day, which wasn't shocking. His mother had a few friends that lived down near the ports, women like her, that were unmarried with children. He liked that his mother had found a close group of associates that understood her situation, but he wished she would tell him before going off on her own. Of course, she knew the town well enough at this point, and was thoroughly capable of doing things on her own, but he still feared for her safety and her state of mind.

John thought often of how she was really and truly feeling since his father's death. She hid it well enough, but he knew when she was in pain. She didn't want to talk about it, perhaps to spare him of her own sorrows, as most mothers endeavored to do, but the idea of his father being dead was weighing down on her like a boulder, and he saw it. He remembered the day his mother told him that they were coming to America like it was yesterday, and the pain in her eyes that had shot right through him.

Their family had been torn apart.

John often wondered what would have happened if he had decided to remain in the country house his father had set him and his mother up in. They had a good life there, a happy one. His father visited them at every opportunity, and provided for them handsomely. Of course, such provisions didn't stop when they came to Charlestown but, without him there, it was all as empty as his mother must have felt. Whatever anger John had felt of being born of an affair was quashed when he saw what his mother was willing to sacrifice in order for him to have a good life. Quite literally, she had sacrificed everything.

And now he was going to try and get it all back, starting with his sisters.

From what John knew, both Lucy and Lydia were in London. He had to assume that, since their father's death, that someone had to return to Lanfore to settle affairs. Or perhaps they had sent a close family member to do it. They did have two uncles after all, neither of whom John had met or had any intention of meeting.

"Robert Quincy is a horrid man," his mother told him. "Arrogant and egotistical to boot. I don't want you to ever meet him, not ever!"

She had no opinions on his other uncle, Matthew.

John mulled over how he was going to reveal to his mother that he was going off to tell Lucy and Lydia the truth in person. That would mean that he would be gone for a long time, and he wasn't sure if his mother would be ok with him being gone so long. So naturally, John took advantage of the empty home to practice for the inevitable conversation.

"Mother, I'm afraid I cannot relate this rather intimate news to those two girls over a letter, that is just not polite..." John cursed and shook his head. "Mother, I cannot relate this news in a letter, that would make me look like a coward—no, no!"

John was no good at giving anyone news in general. He froze up and wanted to melt. He hated confrontation especially, and disappointing those around him. In those respects, he supposed, he was more like his mother than his father. According to his mother, and from what he remembered, his father was a proud man, a powerful man. He didn't care what others thought. He had his duty and he did it to perfection.

Still, stubborn determination was something John had taken from his mother.

"Mother, I have to deliver this news to my sisters in person, there is just no other proper way to do it!"

"So do that, then, darling. Why are you talking to yourself?"

John yelped and jumped to his feet. He turned to see his grinning mother standing at the kitchen door, a basket in her hands and her face slightly flushed under her dark tones from, perhaps, a long day of shopping at the market with her friends.