Bring My Soul Out of This Prison (on hold)

Chapter 3

A sharp intake of breath was the only outward sign of his seeing the house.  In a word, the house was gorgeous.  Seamus had never seen a house like it.  In his mind, it rivaled every house he had seen driving through Dublin, or on the few trips his father had taken with him to Waterford city, or even the Earl’s house.  It was a large, three-winged, five-storied, shimmering white house in the neo-classical style.  The front porch extended across the whole middle wing of the house.  It had tall, Corinthian columns that extended up to the third floor where it created a balcony for the front room there.  Crenellation ran along the whole perimeter of the roof of the building.  Various chimneys of many different sizes also dotted the roof and some of them were smoking already.  The house spoke of who lived inside, new money trying to mix in with all the old.

As the cart drove ever closer to the house, the building grew so large that Seamus could not crane his neck back far enough to see the roof anymore.

“This must be how the mice feel,” he breathed out loud.  This time he did not even think about looking around in embarrassment.  The beauty of the house took his whole concentration.  Not even Murphy’s chuckle at his revelation burst into Seamus’ world of creamy white stone, fine oak doors, and hand crafted window dressings.  What did break through his architectural haze, however, was the fact that they were now turning ever so slightly, away from the house.

“What?”  Seamus’ first burst of raw emotion in several days of emotional turmoil overtook him.  “Where are we going?”  He turned to Murphy and grabbed the man’s arm with both of his, like a drowning man grabs onto a life raft.  “Are we not going to this house?  Mr. Twomey doesn’t live here?”  By this point, Seamus had become completely irrational and was beginning to hyperventilate.

Murphy stopped the cart and tried to keep his jovial smile but it soon faded as he realized how upset the boy was.

“Come now,” he said in a calm voice the way you would talk to a frenzied animal.  “Of course, Mr. Twomey lives here.  We’re just going around the corner.  Boy!”  He yelled, waking Seamus from his hyperventilation state, and taking him by both arms.  “You’re not some great man or even a guest, Boy.  You’re here to work and workers never used the front door.  We have to drive around the back to the servants’ door.  Understand?”  He shook Seamus gently.  Like a switch being turned off, Seamus’ breathing went back to normal and his eyes became clear and returned to their normal size.  A small sigh escaped his lips as he turned in his seat away from Murphy.  The man let go of Seamus’ arms and picked up the reigns to the start the cart again.  He consciously gave the boy time to collect himself and they sat in awkward silence again.

For Seamus, his embarrassment had never been more intense.  Not only was his face flaming but it felt like the rest of his body was as well.

“Why?” was the question running through one part of his head.  “Why did I react like that?  Why couldn’t I calm down?  Why am I so attached to this place already?  Why, when I thought that it was not the right building, it felt like someone had reached into my chest and yanked out my organs, leaving a giant, gaping hole?” 

Another part of his brain was solely focused on breathing in a regular, calm pattern.  “Breath, breath, breath,” it kept saying over and over again.  Maybe if this side kept him occupied with breathing then the other side would stop asking so many question and he could get through this episode with no more problems.  Thinking about this, he became like a turtle; his head fell into his shoulders as his shoulders rose up.

“Here we are,” Murphy suddenly announced as they rounded the corner of the house.  The back of the house was a different from the front as night is from day.  It was so dark back there that it seemed like the sun did not reach it.  The trees planted a few yards away reached over the gravel area, yearning for the light that stopped over the edge of the building.  There were the many small buildings coming out from the main building.  Men and women were coming and going from them, oblivious of the cart driving towards them.