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Sons Of Erin	By : Neverseenblue Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > U2 Views: 1710 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of U2. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Bono shook his head, “I don’t know” He said, “Dave never was the solider type. I can not imagine him leaving his beloved farm”

“Men Change” Larry said cryptically, with bitterness. Bono noted the hard edge in his voice, but did not comment on it. The war had made many a young man bitter, aged them before their time; made them hard if they were to survive.

He clapped his arm on Larry’s shoulder, “Go back to men men, Larry, I’ll be back down soon”

Larry nodded and turn away heading in the direction of where the first division was camped on the outskirts of Fredericksburg. Bono was once again struck at how much Larry had grown; it seemed like yesterday he was just a wee little boy still in apron strings, pestering their Aunt Faye something terrible. And now here he was a brave young man, and a damn fine officer. He had no doubt that Larry would lead his men valiantly even in the face of overwhelming odds.

But now as the hour of battle drew near, and with at least one, maybe both, of his good friend facing him as adversaries, he could not help but recall the day they had first met. Their mother and Larry’s father (Bono’s stepfather) had hardly been laid to rest when they were packed off by the land lord onto one of the dreaded coffin ships that was taking the starving peasants of Ireland to the New World in droves.

With no food, no money, and no aspect of finding work in the devastated countryside Bono decided to risk the chance that Larry’s Uncle would take the boy in. It was a long shot; the Uncle had immigrated to America long before the potato famine, and by all account was running a prosperous textile mill in New York. Would he take in his brother’s orphaned child? A boy he had never seen before. Bono didn’t know but felt that even if he was to turn them down they would have a better chance of survival in America.
So they packed the few possession they had and boarded the vessel that would sail them away from all they had ever know, all that was dear to them.

Dave was the first one they were to meet on the ship. He was a handsome bloke, quiet and reserved in manner, but quick witted in conversation. Never once did he complain or grumble at his fate. He met adversary head on with quiet determination. He owned a beat up old guitar that had seen better days and would entertain the passengers and crew with his songs and ballads. His long deft fingers plucking out sweet melodies to soothe and comfort the souls of those weary travelers who had lost just about everything. Or playing a lively air he would lift the sprit and make the arduous journey less gruesome.

Dave had neither kith nor kin left in the world and naturally seemed to gravitate to Bono and Larry who were in similar circumstance. The two young men, seeing something of a kindred sprit in the other, became fast friends.

The next to join them was Adam. Older than the other boys, he had a worldliness about him, suggesting he had done and seen more than most men his age. No one knew much about Adam, as he did not talk about his past. Some said he was nothing but an idle drifter, other that he was a member of the Irish gentry running off to America to escape enormous gambling debts; or a cuckolded husband!

What ever his reason for leaving Ireland, Bono and Dave found him to be a welcome addition to their friendship. Adam in turn took the other 3 under his wing so to speak. Even though Bono and Dave had lived a hard life and were on the cusp of manhood they had never been far from home and were untested in the ways of the world.

During the long voyage they were often seen in each other’s company talking and smoking, with Adam teaching them the fine art of gambling. Bono proved to be an apt. pupil, catching on quickly to the finer points of poker, blackjack, and bezique. But it was poker that he excelled at. His naturally charming personality seemed to put people at ease and mislead them into thinking he was an easy mark. His animated face easily masking its true intent.

From the moment they first put in at the decrepit New York docks Adam became the unofficial leader of their odd little group guiding them through the maze of dirty streets and dark narrow alleys. They stuck close to him, afraid of becoming lost in the huge city. Larry tagging along behind Bono with his small hand held in a steal like grip. His wide blue eyes staring out from under a shock of dirty blond hair at a world more foreign then he could have ever dreamed was possible.

Dirt and squalor met them at every street corner. The open sewers ran with refuse, the overwhelming smell assaulted them, and for the young men who had lived in the open country side of Ireland, the smell was enough to gag on. Tanniers and slaerhoerhouses added to the stench. Barefooted children with stringy hair and dressed in little more than rags played in the streets. Dilapidated buildings lined the street front, the ground floor hosting cheap retail shops, saloons, and, rum shops while in the floors above cheap one room apartments could be rented. Gambling dens and whore houses flourished.

While the prevailing population was mainly Irish, the accents of Germans, polish and Italians were often heard along side that of the rolling Irish brogue, the harsh accents of the native born and the low deep rumblings reedreed blacks. The clatter and clamor of the commerce abound. Sounding like a dull roar in their ears was the shop owners hawking their goods, the rumble of passing dray carts, the rattling of mills and factories, and above all the voices of thousand seemingly all talking at once.

By the end of their first day Adad sad secured for them a 10x10 room in a tenement house on Canal Street, near the infamous Five Points. It was small, filthy, and furnished with only a grimy straw mattress lying on the floor. A small window coved only with oil paper overlooked a cluttered court yard where scrawny chickens scratched at the meager offerings. It was cramped and smelled terrible but at least they were off the streets.

Leaving Dave to stay with 7 year old Larry; Bono and Adam went out after dark to see about improving their circumstances. Visiting the many saloons and gambling dens Bono put his new found skill to use at acquiring not only cash but any information on the where abouts of Larry’s long lost uncle. Together they worked the various illicit districts ferreting out the easiest marks and working as a team to empty the pockets of the unwary.

In the mean time Dave went out to find more respectable means of income. He was dismayed to find the Irish treated no be tha than freed blacks. “Irish and Negros Need Not Apply” sings stared back at him from various places of employment. The contractors and foremen of building firms that did employ freed blacks and emigrants were hesitant to give him work due to his slight frame. So often he resorted to singing for their supper in taverns when Bono and Adam lost more than they won.

Things went on in this fashion for several months before Bono could find out where they could find this elusive relative of Larry’s. Bono never knew there that so many Irish existed in the world, let along living in one city. It seemed from the amount of Irish living in New York that all of Ireland had moved to the New World; he had to wonder if there was any Irish left in Ireland.

Finally they heard word of a man fitting the descriptions of Las Uns Uncle. A man by the name of Rory Mullen who had been living in the upper east side for many years and ran a textile mill on the outskirts of Manhattan.

Bono felt it would not be wise to show up on this man’s door step looking like cutthroats who had crawled out of the gutter. So using his hard won cash he bought new clothes for himself and Larry. With much protesting and howling from Larry, Bono scrubbed the weeks of grim from Larry face and hair till his little cheeks were pink and his blond hair shone in the light. Dressed in his new and and fidgeting with the collar and cuffs Larry and Bono set out to the address of this unknown uncle.

They set out at a brisk walk, Larry skipping along happily behind Bono, quite pleased with having an outing of any sorts, Bono worrying the whole way. Would this man believe them? They had no proof of kinship other than their word. What would he do if this uncle refused to take Larry in? Living in a one room slum with 3 other men who gambled for their next meal was not the sort of life for a small boy. Many boys Larry’s age had already turned to a life of crime, becoming pick-pockets and joining gangs like the Dead Rabbits or the Plug Uglies; Bono certainly didn’t want his kid brother to follow in those footsteps. Larry need a childhood that Bono was unable to provide, he needed fresh air, good food, room to play and most importantly a good education.

While lost in these thoughts Bono hardly noticed the change in their soundings and was surprised to find themselves in the fashionable district of Astoria. Lovely 2 and 3 story red brick and brown stone homes where set back from the clean, tree lined streets. They soon arrived at the house of Rory Mullen. It was a two story opposing redbrick edifice with white trim and lush gardens set behind a wrought iron fence.

Stepping up to the front door Bono took a deep breath and knocked, it would be now or never. After a short wait the door was answered by a short plump woman wearing an immaculate grey dress with a white apron and matching lace mob cap on her graying head.

“May I help you?” she asked in a crisp American accent.

“Yes, I hope you can” Bono answered with a smile, hoping to use his natural Irish charm, “We are looking for a Mr. Rory Mullen.”

“This is his home, what business do you have with Mr. Mullen?”

“Family business” Bono replied.

“Then you must be mistaken for Mr. Mullen has no family in America” the housekeeper said and began to shut the door.

Bono caught the door before she could shut it. “Please,” he pleaded “it’s true, the young boy is his nephew, who has recently come from Ireland.”

The housekeeper looked suspiciously at the two, clearly not convinced.

“I know this must seem as a surprise for us to drop in like this with no warning, but we had no other way of contacting Mr. Mullen before we left Ireland,” Bono continued “Please just five minutes to speak with Mr. Mullen and we will not bother you again.”

The housekeeper mentally debated this, not sure if she should turn them away or not. But finally decided that it would not be worth risking her employer’s wrath if she turned them away and latter found out their tale to be true.

Motioning for them to come inside she said “Wait here and I will speak Mr. Mullen” and with that she disappeared down the long hall. A few minutes latter she reappeared “Mr. Mullen will see you in the library”

She quickly led them to the library where a stern looking man dressed in a black broadcloth suit sat behind a massive mahogany desk. His already pale face went ashen when he laid eyes on the small boy; there was no doubt that it could have been any other child than that of his brother. The features were so perfect; to him it was like looking across the many years to his childhood and seeing the face of his brother all over again. He knew the news could not be good. He came out from around the desk to greet the young man who was with his nephew.

Shaking his hand he looked the young man, hardly more than a boy really, in the eye and said, “My housekeeper tells me that you claim this child to be my nephew, aye, I do see a family resemblance, but how do I know you are telling me the truth?”

“You have only our word sir, that we are speaking the truth, I wish I had more to offer you other than that. But why else would be seek out a stranger?” Bono answered “But if you are the man we are looking for than you left behind in County Meath, a brother 5 years younger than yourself, sir, who was baptized Robert Lawrence Mullen, but who was called by his friends and family as simply Larry. He was tall, blond, and had a scar on his left shoulder in the shape of a half moon.”

Rory who was convinced of Larry’s identity from the moment he walked in was now left with out a doubt in his mind that the young boy was indeed his flesh and blood. He nodded, and said “Yes, I believe you. Larry looks so much like his father I can not doubt that you are telling the truth. But who are you?”

“I am Paul Hewson, sir, Larry’s half brother. After my father died our mother married your brother” he answered.

“You speak of my brother in the past tense; I take it he has passed away?” Rory concluded.

“Yes,” Bono nodded “I am sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but you are right sir. He and our mother passed away in early April of this year. They had been weak from the famine when cholera struck our village. We lost half the population of the village. After that there was nothing left for us. So we came here.”

“I take it you want me to take you and the boy in?” Rory asked.

“Not myself sir, I can take care of myself, and with all due respect, I am not blood kin to you, but I did hope you would find a place for Larry, I am ill prepared to take care of a child. Larry deserves more than what I can give him.”

There was not doubt in Rory’s mind that Larry would be a welcome addition to his home. His wife was unable to have children-a fact that sadden them both. While no longer young they were not past their prime and would enjoy the chance to raise the child of his brother. But what about this older bother of Larry’s? He felt it would be cruel to separate the two. A person would have to be blind not to notice the look of hero worship in the lad’s blue eyes as he looked upon his older brother.

Rory was moved by the young man’s words, his humble request for a better life for Larry; asking nothing for himself. He saw in his eyes a quite strength and determination. After years onninnning and managing his own mill, Rory felt confident of his ability to judge a person quickly—and the young man seemed to have many fine qualities. Qualities that he could put to good use; and decided to keep this older brother along with the younger. But he could tell that the young man would not take kindly to charity for himself; he would have to phrase his offer carefully as to not offend the man’s pride.

He laid a hand on Larry’s shoulder, “Of course Larry will be welcomed here. My wife will be delighted to learn of it when she returns from her social calls. Now if I know anything about young boys it that they are always hungry” he rang for the housekeeper, “Mrs. Fitzpatrick, will you take young Larry here to the kitchen and see what our cook is making for lunch”

Larry glanced up to Bono, looking to see if it was ok with him to be dismissed. Bono nodded his permission and Larry reluctantly trailed off behind the housekeeper, clearly worried about weather or not Bono would still be waiting for him when he returned.

As the library door clicked shut Rory turned back to Bono. “Please have a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite of the desk and resumed his own seat behind the desk.

“I’m in your debt for safely bringing Larry across the Atlantic and taking care of him here in the New World. I’m sure it is not easy for a young man such as yourself to look after a child, and I can tell you have done a good job of it. He seems to be quite well behaved.” He began.

“Larry is a good lad, sir, you wont find him to be any trouble” Bono assured him.

“That seems to be the case, but what of your self, Paul?” Rory asked, “What are your plans for the future? Do you plan to continue being an influence in Larry’s upbringing?”

“I would like to be able to come visit him. He really is all that I have left of my own kin” Bono answered.

“I’m sure that Larry would want to have you near also, he has already lost a great deal for one so young; having you close by would be claming for him and make this transition easier for him. I also have need of a clerk for my mill, you are well spoken, lad, I take it you received some degree of education?”

“Yes I was taught to read, write and do sums; our village was lucky enough to have a small school. I’m not looking for charity sir,” but Rory cut him off before he could finish.

“I never assumed you were looking for a hand out, Paul, but I know what it’s like for a young man who has just arrived here in New York. The Irish are treated like second class citizens here, and it’s difficult to get ahead when doors are slammed in your face just because of your accent. I’m not offering you charity, lad, I’m offering you a good job with fair wages. You are welcomed to stay here until Larry is settled in; once he has adjusted to living here you can look for lodgings of your own.”

Bono considered his offer, he did want to have respectable job; the life of a gambler did not suit him well and anteanted to be a good role model for Larry. But he wanted to acquire a job on his own merits, not out of pity.

“I’m looking to hire a clerk, lad, weather you take the job or not. I would much rather hire one of my own country men than not” Rory added.

It was quite a tempting offer, and Bono would be a fool to turn it down. “I’ll accept,” Bono said, “but only on the condition that I am suited for the position and treated like any other of your employees.”

“It’s a deal then.” Rory said as they shook hands.

Such a deal worked out well for them all. Rory and his wife happy to share in the joys of watching Larry grow up. His wife, their Aunt Faye was taken with young Larry from the first moments she laid eyes on him. She set out immediately to spoil him rotten and would have succeed too if it wasn’t for the steady influence of his older brother, Uncle and their mutual friend, Dave, who once introduced to Rory was also offered a position in the rapidly growing business. Rory never once regretted his offer of employment to either of the lads. They were both hard workers who proved to have a keen intelligence and learned the business quickly. And when Rory was offered a chance to send Bono to the prestigious military academy of West Point he didn’t hesitate for a moment before enrolling him.

Adam remained on friendly terms with them all, but once he saw that the other 3 were settled into their new life felt it was time to move on. He was never one to stay in one place for long, and soon began to make his way south where he heard the stakere ere higher, and the pocket to be empty far deeper than the slim pickings in the slums. They heard from him often, he kept in contact through letters and once his wealth began to grow he would often come to visit them spending weeks at a time enjoying the sights and splendor the city had to offer now that he had money to do as he pleased. Though he quite enjoyed the time spent with his old friends the siren call of the south would always lure him back with its slow easy ways, long hot summer afternoons, and soft spoken women who could charm the birds from the trees.

The sound of gun fire brought Bono back to the present. Some fool scout taking pot-shots at the enemy; as if they wouldn’t get their chance to fight soon enough. With a sigh he slipped the field glasses into the pocket of his great coat and set off back towards the direction of the camp; memories weren’t going to change a thing that happened today, he thought grimly.
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Sons Of Erin