thing better for an Irishman than to live in a saloon, and that’s to own it.”
Hawke laughed. “Tell me, Paddy, what is an Irishman doing out here? I thought all Irish were in Boston or New York.”
“Aye, and there’s a bit of truth to that, lad, for I was born not on the old sod, but in Boston. And ’tis no secret from the citizens of this fair town that I fought in the war on the side of the Union.”
“Most here were Confederates, I imagine,” Hawke said. “How do they take it that you wore blue?”
“’Tis funny about that. Odd, I know, but I think they feel a closer connection to me, even though I did fight for the North, than they do with their fellow southerners who, for one reason or another, did not fight a’tall.”
“Not so strange at that,” Hawke replied. “I’ve noticed it myself. It’s funny how northerners and southerners tried for four long, bloody years to kill each other. But since then, there seems to be sort of a brotherhood of war that includes men from both sides of the conflict, while excluding those who did not fight.”
“True, though ’tis only those of us who fought who notice such things.”
“So, how did you wind up in Salcedo?” Hawke asked.
“You are interested in the trials and travels of Paddy O’Neil, are you? Well, sir, after the war I returned to Boston, where I bought a small bar. But I got into politics there, and made the mistake of backing the wrong candidate.”
“That was bad?”
“Oh my, lad, you’ve no idea how bad that can be. In a town like Boston the worst thing a body can do is get into politics and support the losing side. The new mayor started, right away, exacting his pound of flesh from those of us who didn’t support him. My taxes became so high that there was no way I could stay in business. So, when I had enough of it I emptied the cash drawer and left in the middle of the night.”
“That seems reasonable,” Hawke said.
“More than reasonable, I would say it is downright prudent,” another man said, stepping up to the bar at that moment. “My usual, Paddy.”
Paddy prepared a drink of Bourbon and branch and handed it to the new man.
“Mr. Hawke, this is Dr. Charles Urban,” Paddy said.“Doc is one of my regular customers, right, Doc?”
“That’s right,” Doc said. He pointed to a table in the back corner of the room. “You may have observed the chessboard on the table back there.”
“I did notice it, yes.”
“The pieces there represent an ongoing game I have with our mayor. Please do not disturb any of the pieces, or Mr. Cyrus will accuse me of cheating.”
Hawke chuckled. “I won’t touch the board, I promise.”
“The mayor and I thank you,” Doc said. Then, as he took a drink of his beer, he looked back toward the bartender. “Paddy, please, continue with your story,” he said. “I apologize for the interruption.”
“Before I do, would you like another beer, Mr. Hawke?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Hawke said.
Paddy drew another beer and put it front of Hawke before he went on.
“Well, sir, after cleaning out my cash drawer, I bought a train ticket to Baltimore. But I got off the train in New York and took another one heading west.” He held up his finger to make a point. “That way, you see, I figured I would be able to throw off anyone who tried to find me.”
“So you wound up here?”
“Heavens no,” Doc Urban said with a chuckle. “No good story proceeds in a straight line. Continue, Paddy.”
“I settled in Memphis first,” Paddy said. “I was there for about a year, and it was there that I met Mary.”
“Your wife?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Paddy replied. “There was a small problem.”
“What sort of problem?”
“Mary was already married.”
“I see. That can be a problem.”
“Her husband was an abusive drunk, in a town where thehusband is always right. And in Memphis, divorces are next to impossible to obtain,” Paddy explained.
“I think I’m
Hawke laughed. “Tell me, Paddy, what is an Irishman doing out here? I thought all Irish were in Boston or New York.”
“Aye, and there’s a bit of truth to that, lad, for I was born not on the old sod, but in Boston. And ’tis no secret from the citizens of this fair town that I fought in the war on the side of the Union.”
“Most here were Confederates, I imagine,” Hawke said. “How do they take it that you wore blue?”
“’Tis funny about that. Odd, I know, but I think they feel a closer connection to me, even though I did fight for the North, than they do with their fellow southerners who, for one reason or another, did not fight a’tall.”
“Not so strange at that,” Hawke replied. “I’ve noticed it myself. It’s funny how northerners and southerners tried for four long, bloody years to kill each other. But since then, there seems to be sort of a brotherhood of war that includes men from both sides of the conflict, while excluding those who did not fight.”
“True, though ’tis only those of us who fought who notice such things.”
“So, how did you wind up in Salcedo?” Hawke asked.
“You are interested in the trials and travels of Paddy O’Neil, are you? Well, sir, after the war I returned to Boston, where I bought a small bar. But I got into politics there, and made the mistake of backing the wrong candidate.”
“That was bad?”
“Oh my, lad, you’ve no idea how bad that can be. In a town like Boston the worst thing a body can do is get into politics and support the losing side. The new mayor started, right away, exacting his pound of flesh from those of us who didn’t support him. My taxes became so high that there was no way I could stay in business. So, when I had enough of it I emptied the cash drawer and left in the middle of the night.”
“That seems reasonable,” Hawke said.
“More than reasonable, I would say it is downright prudent,” another man said, stepping up to the bar at that moment. “My usual, Paddy.”
Paddy prepared a drink of Bourbon and branch and handed it to the new man.
“Mr. Hawke, this is Dr. Charles Urban,” Paddy said.“Doc is one of my regular customers, right, Doc?”
“That’s right,” Doc said. He pointed to a table in the back corner of the room. “You may have observed the chessboard on the table back there.”
“I did notice it, yes.”
“The pieces there represent an ongoing game I have with our mayor. Please do not disturb any of the pieces, or Mr. Cyrus will accuse me of cheating.”
Hawke chuckled. “I won’t touch the board, I promise.”
“The mayor and I thank you,” Doc said. Then, as he took a drink of his beer, he looked back toward the bartender. “Paddy, please, continue with your story,” he said. “I apologize for the interruption.”
“Before I do, would you like another beer, Mr. Hawke?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Hawke said.
Paddy drew another beer and put it front of Hawke before he went on.
“Well, sir, after cleaning out my cash drawer, I bought a train ticket to Baltimore. But I got off the train in New York and took another one heading west.” He held up his finger to make a point. “That way, you see, I figured I would be able to throw off anyone who tried to find me.”
“So you wound up here?”
“Heavens no,” Doc Urban said with a chuckle. “No good story proceeds in a straight line. Continue, Paddy.”
“I settled in Memphis first,” Paddy said. “I was there for about a year, and it was there that I met Mary.”
“Your wife?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Paddy replied. “There was a small problem.”
“What sort of problem?”
“Mary was already married.”
“I see. That can be a problem.”
“Her husband was an abusive drunk, in a town where thehusband is always right. And in Memphis, divorces are next to impossible to obtain,” Paddy explained.
“I think I’m
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