March 25 Challenge

The Legacy of Mary Margaret Colleen Ann McNamara

Two young ragtag boys watched until the last candle in the farmhouse went out before making a run for the side door of the barn. They slipped inside in seconds and stood just inside the building. The half-moon was rising and gave just enough light for them to find the ladder to the loft that they had scouted out earlier in the evening.

Fourteen-year-old Hannibal Heyes deposited the pillowcase with his belongings in the corner of the loft near the ladder so he could grab it in case they had to leave in a hurry. Eleven-year-old Jedediah Curry did the same, after he took his pa's gun out of his pillowcase and buried it in the hay near where he was making a bed.

"Jed, we ain't slept inside for almost two weeks. This is a treat," Han said. Then he looked at his cousin. "You been sad all day. What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," answered the young boy, turning away. "Just been thinkin' about my ma."

Han nodded. They both often got lost in thoughts of their parents and how they were killed by the raiders, along with Jed's siblings. But Han had decided that thinking about the past didn't do any good except make him mad at what happened. "Jed, think about something good like tonight we got a bed of hay and we made a good meal of that cherry pie we stole off that green house's window sill and split."

His words didn't have the effect he planned when he saw Jed turn away and wipe a tear from his eyes.

"Han, today is my ma's birthday. I miss her so much," Jed said.

"So do I. Raising his hand up to the heavens, he said, "Happy Birthday, Aunt Mary Margaret!"

"Happy birthday, Ma!" Jed echoed. "Han, you think that story pa told each year on her birthday is true?"

"The one where your ma is a thief? Well, she never contradicted him," Han answered.

"Contra what?" Jed asked, his blue eyes a purer blue through his tears.

"Contradicted. It means your ma never denied it," Han explained.

"Do you know the story? I only remember parts of it," Jed sniffled.

"Sure, I do. Every word. Want to hear it?" Han asked. The story always amazed him and he was never sure if he believed that his lively Aunt Mary Margaret had been an outlaw and a thief

Jed snuggled down in the hay, his hand holding the gun and smiled. "Yes, please, Han, the whole thing."

"Your ma, Ann McNamara was born in a four family walk up near the docks in New York City. She had two older brothers. Her pa, Jimmy McNamara, worked loading and unloading cargo at the docks. He worked long hours, seven days a week, to support his family at a dangerous job. And oh, Ann loved the one Sunday a month that her father was home with the family. She remembered him as a big broad-shouldered man, strong from working on the docks. Ann's oldest brother, James, followed her pa to the docks when he was fourteen. But your ma said whenever he was home, James was reading. It didn't matter what, he just loved to read.

One fateful day - your pa always said that when he told the story - one fateful day when Ann was twelve, there was an accident on the docks and heavy cargo got loose and killed five of the workers. Ann's pa and brother were two of them. Much was made about how the accident was the fault of the shipping line and that was well published. To quiet the public outcry, Ann's ma, Margaret nicknames Peggy, was given a very small stipend and her older brother was sent to a boy's military academy with the shipping line paying the tuition.

"Annie, my dearest, I've taken a position as a maid in the Kane household. I will have a small room in their attic where we can live for free. You can go to a real good school near there," Ann's ma told her.

The Kane's were fashionable and social in New York society. Ann and her ma were happy there until a year later when the Kanes threw the first party of the season. Martin Kane, the eldest son, was home from boarding school for the party and liked to drink and had an eye for pretty, very young girls. Ann, working as a serving girl for the party, caught his eye. At first, she was flattered he smiled at her but when he tried to pull her into the empty parlor, she kicked him and ran. That did nothing but anger him. He found her, put his hand over her mouth and forced her into their barn. There he had his way with the poor girl, leaving her deflowered, bleeding, and crying in an empty stall. Her ma found her there hours later. She didn't need to ask any questions; Ann's ripped skirt and black eye told the whole story.

"Hush, child," Peggy tried to quiet her daughter. "Stay here. We're leaving here right now." When Ann's ma came back, she had a small travel bag and a pillowcase.

"Ma?" Ann asked. "Do we have enough money?"

"Yes, Annie. I've been saving what the shipping line sends me and everything I make here. We have enough money to catch a train west in an hour. Change your clothes. Hurry!" Ann's ma told her. Then she took the ripped and bloody dress and nailed it to the outside of the stall for everyone to see.

"Ma, what's in the pillow case?" Ann asked.

"Well, our clothes. Since we hadn't been paid for this last week I took what was owed out of young Martin Kane's wallet with a note that I only took what was owed me." said Peggy.

Annie took the pillowcase and added something heavy to it.

Peggy bought two tickets to a city she knew nothing about called Kansas City, leaving with only enough money to eat for two weeks. "I'll find work when I get there."

A passenger that boarded in Philadelphia left a day-old paper on the seat. And the ladies were horrified to read how young Ann McNamara, a serving girl at the Kane Mansion, had stolen a wallet and two silver candlesticks from the Kanes and ran away. The article said her mother was so horrified that she could not be found to be interviewed.

"Annie, you went in and took those candlesticks, did you?" her ma asked.

"Thought I was owed that and more for what Martin did to me. Did know they would be missed," Ann answered.

"Annie, just in case someone reads this and thinks it is about us, you will now be called, Colleen. Understand?" her mother said.

ASJ*ASJ

Kansas City proved a safe haven for the two ladies, until it wasn't. Peggy found work as an assistant to a bank president. Colleen, now fourteen, went to school. She was a good student. She was a loner, came home right after school, and studied hard. Until a year later, another fateful day changed her life.

Walking home from school, she passed the bank where her ma worked just as it was closing. Through the window, she could see three men holding guns on the teller, the bank president, and her ma. She let out a scream, "NO!" as she saw the bank president shot and stumble backward. Then the gun was turned on the teller. Her scream alerted a bank guard and a deputy who came running, but not before there was a third shot. She watched her ma crumble to the floor with a bullet to the head.

Her scream also caught the notice of one of the bank robbers, who turned and shot Colleen McNamara.

She woke up a day later, an orphan. As she fought her headache, she thought that the name Colleen had brought bad luck. She drifted back to sleep. The next time she woke up, a sheriff was standing at the foot of her bed.

"Miss McNamara, I am Sheriff MB Langman. Can you identify any of the men that robbed the bank?" he asked.

Colleen nodded. "Yes, the three I saw."

"There were three? We thought there were only two," the sheriff answered.

"They killed my ma," she said softly, remembering and feeling an aloneness that reached into her soul and squeezed.

The sheriff turned to another man Colleen hadn't seen standing in the corner of the room. "Doc, will she be able to get up tomorrow?" the sheriff asked.

Colleen heard the kindness in the doctor's voice as he answered, "If she has a nurse with her, she can go to her mother's burying and to your jail to identify that man you caught."

ASJ*ASJ

The townspeople paid the next three month's rent on the boarding house room where Colleen had lived with her ma. While her wound healed, her future now seemed unclear. She went back to school and looked for an afternoon job. All she could find was to help at the mercantile. She was sure that the job had been given to her out of pity.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the sheriff sitting in the front row of the courtroom, she testified that the man on trial killed the bank president. If he happened to look her way, he narrowed his eyes and growled at her. After his conviction, she talked to the kind doctor who had treated her.

"Doctor, I can't stay here. Too many bad memories. What should I do?" she asked one day.

"Let me think about it," he told her.

The next day as lessons drew to a close, Colleen was surprised by a group of the people she had come to know, the sheriff, the doctor, the owners of the mercantile, and some of their customers, entered the classroom. They all looked happy and excited.

"Attention!" said the sheriff pounding on the teacher's desk. "I have an announcement to make. Miss Colleen McNamara has been accepted into the secondary school in New Life and been awarded a scholarship covering room and board. Congratulations!"

Colleen was stunned by his words. Then intimidated at the thought of moving again. New Life was about fifty miles away and became her first stage ride.

There was only one other passenger on the stage, a pompous gentleman with thinning hair and dark eyes who was already on the stage when she boarded. Nerves and fear made her unable to sit still at first, but the rocking and bumping of the coach soon made her eyes start to close. Until the stagecoach came to a sudden stop, almost tipping over.

"Everyone do what we ask and no one will get hurt," she heard a deep man's voice yell. "Everyone out of the coach!"

"The Red Scarf Gang," hissed her traveling companion as he pushed her to exit first.

Terrified and shaking, she held her pocketbook close, but tripped going down the steps to the ground. To her surprise, one of the outlaws, wearing a red bandana over his face, caught her. "I got you, Miss," he whispered politely. She looked at him closely. He was younger than all the other outlaws and had eyes of crystal blue that held her attention.

When a gun was stuck into her face, she did as she was told and put all her money into a hat…six dollars and fourteen cents.

"Throw down everything on top of the stage," ordered the leader. Just the slimy look of him made her tremble.

Cooperating, the driver threw down her traveling case and a fancy carpetbag that she figured must belong to the man traveling inside with her. But the driver refused to throw down the Wells Fargo box. He held it up over his head. Colleen thought it was smaller than any other Wells Fargo box she had ever seen…but she hadn't seen many.

"Get it down here now," the outlaw leader demanded, waving his gun.

Colleen saw the driver grin. "You asked for it," he said as he pitched it down on the head of the leader of the gang. As the outlaw fell, his gun went off, killing the driver instantly.

Stunned, The leader of the gang grabbed at his prize and yelled, "Time to leave, boys. That shot will bring the law. And here's another one so they can find the way," he said as he fired and shot the pompous man twice.

"Take my hand," the young outlaw told Colleen urgently. With no time to think, she grabbed for her bag and took his hand. He swung her up on the horse behind him. She was surprised at how rough and calloused his hand was. It wasn't what she expected from an outlaw, someone who makes their way with a gun.

ASJ*ASJ

The outlaws rode out hard and fast in different directions. Colleen figured she was heading sort of south west. It was all she could do to hold on to the blue-eyed outlaw's waist. Soon they lost sight of the rest of the gang and they slowed down. She was surprised when he gently helped her get off the horse. He removed his red scarf and stuffed it in his back pocket.

"There's a posse coming up on us fast," the outlaw whispered. "Sorry, miss," he added. Taking her gently in his arms, he held her tightly against him and kissed her firmly and deeply. Colleen didn't fight him.

"We're looking for the men that robbed a stagecoach north of here. You see them?" the man in the front of the posse with a US Marshal's badge asked them.

Blushing, Colleen broke away from the kiss. "Heard some shots a little while ago from that direction, but didn't see anyone else on this road," she answered.

The lawman looked at them hard. "Your pa know where you are, miss?" he asked.

"I'm sure he knows exactly where I am," answered Colleen.

They watched as the posse rode away. "Thanks," the young man said. "Suppose I should be introducing myself, I'm Declan Curry."

"Dec Curry, you don't seem like an outlaw to me," Colleen answered. As she did the thought returned that the name Colleen had been bad luck for her. She'd been thinking of changing it to Margaret after her ma, but had decided on Mary Margaret.

"I'm not really. I'm a farmer. Homestead a farm in Kansas with my ma and pa and my friend Alex Heyes. But I got restless and left to be an outlaw," Declan answered. He was holding her close again and she found she didn't mind. In fact, she liked it.

"So, what happens now?" she asked.

"Well," he said, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. Kissing her lips softly, he pulled away and smiled. "I give up my outlaw life. Didn't care much for it anyway if innocent folks get killed. You tell me your name so I can introduce the woman I'm going to marry to my parents," he answered, stealing a little kiss.

"Mary Margaret McNamara."

ASJ*ASJ

Jed Curry sat cross legged on the hay for the last part of the story. "My big sister used to say how romantic when pa finished the story. I can't believe my dad was an outlaw and my ma a thief."

"But that's not the end," Han returned. "Remember your ma used to send someone to get the wooden box off her dresser and bring it to the table?"

"I'd forgotten that," Jed said. "She'd say 'this is my legacy box', right?"

"You ever get a good look at that box?" Han asked with a mischievous grin.

Jed looked confused. "It was just a wooden box with a broken lock on it."

"With the words Wells Fargo on the top and sides," Han added.

"Wells Fargo? You mean she got the money from the stagecoach robbery? Wow!" Jed answered. "Really?"

"Yup! You remember she'd have the youngest kid open the box," said Han.

"And it was empty!" Jed exclaimed.

"Well, not quite there was a red scarf in it. And she said it held a reminder to live each and every day to the fullest, give it your everything and leave no regrets because you never know what gifts the universe might bring you each day and if a fateful day might be waiting for you."

NOTE: A four family walk up is a house with a different family on each floor. Of course, there were no elevators so the poorest families lived on the top floor.