His Sins

Chapter II Alexander was glad of the rare moment he had to himself and would have savored it had it not been for the bad news he had just received. He had stood immobilized when he’d heard the words that had sent his world crashing to the ground where it lay in shattered pieces at his feet. He had only been able to stare at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, barely noticing the tears that slid down her face when she had told him. He’d had no words to explain how he had felt at that moment of realization. Finally, turning his back on her, he had left her standing on Oswald’s Bridge, a lone figure with fears of her own. “We almost made it,” his fist slammed the rickety kitchen table. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "Bloody hell.” Another year down in that black hell hole! Leaning his elbows on the table, he covered his face with dirty, scarred hands. His mind desperately sought other options but none appeared to be available to him. He felt the tears prickle behind his eyelids as frustration welled up within him like bile in his throat. Glancing around he yelled to no one in particular, "Another year in this Gawd forsaken house and another year in Hell." There was to be a wee bairn. They would be getting married in April, as they had planned, but leaving Galston would have to be delayed until after the bairn was born because, as Janet had patiently explained to him, she was already feeling poorly. "We can still leave by the next June," she had promised. "Then the bairn will be strong and it will be safe to make such a trip.” In spite of her tears and the fear he saw in her eyes at his anger, she had been adamant when she had told him that they must wait. Alexander had found it impossible to hide his disappointment and resentment. "Alexander," Janet had tried to put her arms around him but he had turned his back to her. "It will work out. It's not much longer to wait. We'll be a real family when we have the bairn." But Alexander didn't want a bairn. The following month, April of 1913, Janet and Alexander were married in the local church surrounded by all of Alexander's neighbors and his family. Janet's family had decided not to participate in the marriage of their middle daughter since they had been hoping for a better marriage for her than to that of a miner. “Miner's,” they told everyone they knew, “are little more than rodents, burrowing in the ground; only coming out at night. They’re dirty creatures with coal dust instead of sweat coming out of their pores.” Janet had smiled courageously in spite of their hurtful words but Mam Stewart saw the tears in her eyes. Janet's pregnancy was not as yet obvious but the neighbors whispered that there was likely to be a seven month baby. "She has that look," they said. "You ken tell by the eyes," another said. They shrugged. “There are a lot of nine pound seven month babies born but who counts anyway?” After the simple wedding Janet moved into Alexander's parents’ home sharing his narrow hurley bed. They hung a curtain around the bed for a modicum of privacy but he knew they could be heard as he had heard his parents’ lovemaking these past many years. The change had been difficult for Janet. At the Manor House, she had a room to herself and although it had been so cold in the winter that the water in her washing jug had frozen and so hot in the summer months that her prized cake of lavender-smelling soap had melted, it had been hers. Janet had once told Alexander that her room had been almost as large as their entire house. To Alexander it was yet another reason to leave Galston. For as far back as he could remember, they had all lived and slept in one room. Privacy was not a word he was intimately familiar with but he yearned each day for that which he knew nothing about. During the months immediately following their marriage, Janet changed slowly from the smiling, bubbly girl she had been to one who was always on the verge of tears. Her pregnancy was not an easy one. Often ill, she retched into the bowl beside their bed. She became thin and drawn except for the large swell of her belly. Alexander thought that the huge mound of flesh, that was her distended belly, was obscene and refused to think of the bairn she carried. He never spoke to his wife of the child and in fact, rarely spoke to his wife at all. "It's as if the bairn doesn't exist and I no longer seem to exist for Alexander either," Janet had once confided to Mam Stewart. “Things will be different after the bairn is born,” Mam Stewart had answered. But Alexander knew that would not be the case. The child within Janet's growing belly became a major source of frustration and unhappiness for him. ‘It be the fault of the bairn that we still be here crowded like rats into a single room instead of in America where we could be rich,’ Alexander thought as he stared at the floor while he listened to his wife retching in the far corner of the room. Large flies lit on Alexander's hand as he swatted impatiently at them, to no effect. Hearing their continual buzzing in the air around his head further angered him. "Alexander," she called weakly. "I feel so poorly. My Mam weren't so poorly for this long. Could there be something wrong with the bairn, do you think?" Turning to face the wall when he gave no answer, he heard her crying softly. "I'm goin’ out," he told her as anger boiled over him like water on a hot stove.