October 1887

Jack 5 ½, Ciara 4 ½, Molly 7 months

Almost every morning the boys of the apartment building drew a wide circle on the ground with a scrap of charcoal, unloaded their jangling pockets, and knelt on the cobblestones to play marbles. Jack was just starting to get the hang of the game. The girls—4-year-old Ciara up to 11-year-old Millie—built dollhouses from empty bottles they found in the alley or played jump rope with a fraying clothes line.

On this particular day, the girls were practicing cartwheels. They were careful to stay out of sight of the windows. Their mothers would have heart attacks if they knew their daughters threw their boots skyward and revealed their white bloomers to the world. They chanted: hand, hand, foot, foot.

Maggie, who lived on the top floor, had just turned 10 so she thought she was grown. She held Ciara's hand protectively.

Ciara shook her free. "I want to try." She said. Every kid on the block knew the littlest Irish girl was as daring as any boy and couldn't be left out of anything.

"Okay." 8-year-old Annie, the cartwheel expert, motioned for Ciara to come next to her in the clear patch of dust. "Jump with your back leg and keep your arms straight. Then hand-hand-foot-foot. Want me to help you?"

Ciara lunged and flipped over. Her legs weren't far off the ground, but her movements were sure. She tried again and again, her navy skirt puffing and falling. Annie's hands guided her by the ankles as she tried to get her legs straighter each time.

Her arms gave out on her fourth or fifth flip. Her tiny feet tangled in her landing and she tumbled to the ground. Jack leapt up when he heard his sister scream.

Ciara stood up on shaky legs, blood oozing from her chin and dripping onto her left shoulder, dotting the collar of her dress. The big girls swarmed, wrapping their arms around her shoulders and cooing at her like they did to their baby dolls. Ciara sniffled.

"I hit me head." She said. "And, look-" She pointed at a rip in her stockings where she'd skinned her knee. "Mama's gonna be so mad."

"No, she won't." Jack said. Ciara pushed the pairs of maternal hands away and touched her chin. Her fingers came away red, and her lip quivered again.

One of the mothers came flying out of the back door. Most of the kids hadn't seen one of the boys run inside. "What going on? Have y'all been roughhousing? Mercy! Who hurt?" She knelt in front of Ciara. "Evelyn's your mama, ain't she?"

"Yes." Jack said. He took Ciara's hand and she didn't push him away.

The lady-whose mother was she?-put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Get on upstairs, you two. Have your mama wash that cut out good, darlin', and all of you stop this nonsense."

Jack and Ciara turned away as she continued to scold the girls for their unladylike play. Jack had to use two hands to yank the heavy door open and they started their trek up three flights of metal stairs. Ciara was limping because of her skinned knee.

"It hurts, Jack." She said. "And my chin still bleedin'."

"It's okay, sis." Jack adjusted his grip on her hand. "We'll be fine."

"Just wanted to do some cartwheels." Her swollen lip intensified her pout.

The last flight of stairs felt like scaling a skyscraper, but they made it. Evelyn turned around from the stove when she heard the door open.

"Mama!" Ciara cried.

Evelyn saw the gash in Ciara's face and Jack's wide, serious green eyes and scooped Ciara up onto her shoulder. "Shhh, hush. Hush." She said. "I told ya 'bout all that roughhousing. Not right for a young lady." Ciara's braid was falling apart from all her flips and running, and Evelyn gently untied the navy ribbon and combed her fingers through the stray curls. Ciara shrieked.

"Hush, lass, for goodness sake." Evelyn said. "Now, let's look at that cut here." She sat down at the kitchen table with Ciara in her lap and Jack standing right beside, glued to her. "Aye, that's awful deep. What in the world were ya doing?"

"Cartwheels." Ciara said, and she sniffled again. "Sorry I ripped my stockings, too, mama." she stuck her knuckles in her mouth.

Evelyn sighed, then gently pulled Ciara hand from her mouth. "Too big for suckin' ya thumb like a baby." She said. "I'll get ya cleaned up."

She slid Ciara off her lap and stood up. Jack's eyes were fixed on Ciara. Evelyn gently squeezed his shoulder. "Jack, don't fret, lad. Everyone's just fine."

Evelyn opened a cabinet for clean rags, then chuckled."Did I eva tell ya about the time my brother's son fell off a cliff? We was scared then."

"Really, Mama?" Jack said. He sat down next to Ciara, the two of them sharing one chair.

She nodded, her hands busy. "I'm the youngest, ya know. Da said a miracle baby. My sister Hannah was nine when I was born, and four brothers all teenagers. Brennan and Emmett married off and away from Ma and Da before I was out of diapers." She said. "Emmett the oldest of us. His t'ree lads was more like my brothers than my nephews. I was supposed to be watching 'em." She shook her head. "I shouldn't be tellin' ya this."

"No." Ciara said.

"Ma, keep goin'."

She knelt in front of Ciara and gently dabbed at the cut with a wet cloth. Ciara winced, but didn't cry again. "I was ten or eleven, and the boys was all 'bout your age." She said. "We raised sheep, ya know. Nothin' like the big city."

"What was Ireland like, Mama?" Ciara asked. She always asked the same question.

Evelyn smiled. She always smiled, and her blue eyes would look far away. "Clean and green and pretty." The answer was always the same. "Goodness, you both lived in the big city all ya days, you can't even imagine so much grass and land and sky. Da's part of the farm was smaller by time I came along, and we only had about fifty sheep. The boys watched the sheep and I watched the boys."

She stood up to wring out the cloth. She kept her back turned to the kids so they couldn't see how the water came away pink. "We had a lovely time. It was easy work and the grass was so soft."

"But how'd he almost falled off a mountain, Mama?" Jack said.

Evelyn squatted in front of Ciara again, gently pulled off Ciara's boots and re-tied her hair that was stuck to her neck with sweat. The gash on her chin wouldn't stop bleeding. "Does that hurt, a mhuirnin? (uh WER-neen, darling or sweetie)" She pressed the cloth to it again. "When I touch on it?"

Ciara nodded. "But mama, can we go back to Ireland with you?"

Evelyn smiled. "Not now, darlin'. It's an awful long trip. I'll tell the rest of the story in a second." She said. She looked at both of them sternly. "Don't ya two move a muscle, ya hear? I'll be right back. I just need to go ask someone a favor."

She disappeared through the front door, but left it ajar. Ciara whimpered.

Evelyn returned as quickly as she'd left. "Miss G's going to come help us in a moment, alright? Now, scoot over." She sat in a chair and both children scrambled into her lap. "Hold this on your cut, gal." she handed Ciara another wet towel and Ciara pressed it to her chin. Evelyn took a deep breath. "So, most of the time Emmett's boys and Brennan's children listened well. I felt like their older sister, so I maybe I was a little bossy." She said and winked at Jack. "I don't remember much of how it started, exactly, but I suppose Sean, the middle one, got sick of listening to me. I didn't really notice he was gone 'til his brother and I heard screamin'."

Someone knocked at the door and Evelyn leapt up. Miss G, the French midwife who lived across the hall, came in with a little bag.

"Now, Ciara, that cut won't heal up by itself." Evelyn said. "Miss G's going to stitch it closed for ya, just like mama stitches a tear in clothes. It'll hurt a bit, but it's very important you sit still as a statue and do everything she says."

Ciara nodded. Evelyn sat down again with Ciara in her lap and put her hands on either side of her head to keep her still. Jack reached for Ciara's hand.

"Close your eyes, love." Evelyn whispered. "Don't look. Listen to my story. Stay very, very still."

Ciara squeezed her eyes shut, but Jack saw Miss G thread a sharp, shiny needle and bring it towards his sister's face.

"Close your eyes, Jack." Evelyn said sharply. She only had two hands that were keeping Ciara from moving. If she'd had a third hand, she would've clamped it over Jack's eyes. "Like I said, I didn't know how far Sean had gone. The other boys and I was ready to move along-the sheep have to move around to get enough to eat-but we heard Sean yelling. No, don't talk, Ciara!"

"There was a pretty rock he wanted and the stupid lad wasn't watching where he was walking. He just wanted this one rock, but it was on a real steep cliff. His brothers and I watched him lose his feet under him and slide all the way down on his back. Bump bump bump bump." Had Ciara not had to hold still, Evelyn would've bounced her around on her knees at that part. "Rocks flew up around him and we just stood there on the edge in the grass, with a bunch of sheep behind us wondering what all the ruckus was about. And ya know somethin'? Miracle of miracles he stood up-goodness, probably four or five meters away-nothin' broken. I was sure it'd kill him, or scar him for life, but hardly a scratch on him."

"Luck of the Irish, right, Mama?" Jack said. He still had his eyes shut, as Ciara squeezed his hand and he tried to see rich green mountains and not think about the needle in his sisters face.

Evelyn chuckled. "Right, baby. He was lucky, alright. But he was still at the bottom. He was too scared to climb back up. So his brothers is cryin' and he cryin' and the sheep is confused and hungry. And I'm the oldest there so it was my job to figure out how to get the poor lad back up the cliff without gettin' killed. So you know what I had to do?"

"What?" Jack said.

"Almost done, sweet, almost done." Miss G whispered to Ciara. Jack heard her shuffling in her bag and Ciara sniffing back more tears.

"I crawled down backwards on that cliffside on my hands and knees. I didn't wear shoes and the black rocks were sharp and hot on my feet. I knew we was gonna have to go up together, but I also knew I could be stuck too."

"That not very ladylike." Ciara mumbled.

Evelyn laughed. "You saucy gal. No, it wasn't, but I didn't know what else to do. It felt like forever. I caught my fall on a flat patch of grass, same place Sean had, and had to half drag him up this mountain. Oh, Heavens, we was so dirty."

"Did ya get in trouble?" Jack asked.

"Oh, did I ever! My da whipped me halfway to Tuesday, and my brother sure let Sean have it too." she shook her head. "Oh, mercy, was we lucky that day."

"Finished." Miss G said. "All right. No touch, baby."

Jack and Ciara opened their eyes. Evelyn thanked Miss G and walked her to the door, the two women murmuring together.

Jack climbed on the chair again next to his sister. The gash was still red, but held with tiny knots. "Don't touch, Ciara." He repeated. The cut was ugly, but she was okay.

"Well." Evelyn sank into the chair next to her kids. "That was enough excitement for one day, huh? And Molly slept through the whole thing. And goodness, won't you two have a story to tell ya da tonight? No more of this acrobatics foolin' ya hear? My da always said guardian angels are there if we don't use the sense God gave us."

"Mama?" Ciara interrupted. "Do you miss Ireland? Emmett and Hannah and Brennan and Ciran and Sean and-and-and-"

Evelyn posture collapsed like a deflating balloon. She closed her eyes and kissed Ciara's head, then Jack's. "Yes, darlin', I do."