The Secret Garden

by Donna

The MacDonald sisters were settling into their life in Edan. The three of them were different as the seasons of the year. Grace, the oldest, was confident and outgoing. Even though she was proficient with the household duties expected of a woman such as sewing, cooking, and cleaning; Grace preferred to be out of doors. She was an excellent rider, loved nature, and was good with all sorts of animals. When she had been on the bride ship bound for the Americas, she had almost envied the Campbell girls for their upcoming marriages to prosperous farmers rather than the stuffy Boston businessman that Grace herself had been engaged to.

Hope on the other hand, was the socialite of the family. Spoiled and pampered from early childhood, she tended to be flighty and not at all level headed like her older sister and definitely not the domestic type like her younger sister. Hope was an artist and a poet, extroverted and giddy, a girl with lofty ambitions and dreams. It had been her goal in life to mix with the high court in London, and hopefully find a suitable husband among the nobility, as befitting her status as a Lady. Her brother had betrothed her to a man with political aspirations, which he had thought would soothe her ruffled feathers. Stranded in Edan with the rest of the girls, Hope had felt horribly adrift at first, but after meeting some of the male residents of Edan, such as the Knights and King Arthur of Camelot, Count Vronsky, Colonel Montoya and many of the others, she thought there might be some hope for the backward world on which they had been marooned.

The youngest girl, Faith, was not quite 18. Both of her older sisters were outgoing, but Faith was the complete opposite. Almost painfully shy, she tended to stay in the house, keeping herself busy with the domestic chores, her sewing, or reading. Except for the times she slipped out of the house to go pray at the mission church next door, she hardly ever was seen by anyone else in the town.  Her reclusive behavior had not gone unnoticed. Father Alec was concerned. Faith had shared with him that she thought she had a religious vocation, but although he believed her faith genuine, he was worried that one of the reasons she wanted to enter a convent was to avoid having much contact with other people.

Grace came home one day after helping some of the other women in the large community garden and found her youngest sister sitting as usual in their living room, occupied with her needlework. Grace had just spoken with one of the priests, whom she had met on her way to the garden. Father Alec had expressed concern about the way Faith was withdrawing away from the other residents of Edan. Grace had told him in her straightforward way that she had been worried a mite herself about the same thing. It was a beautiful day, maybe she could talk Faith into doing her needlework under a shade tree somewhere instead of in the dark house.

After hugging and kissing hello, Grace sat down beside her youngest sister, watching the patient, industrious way her fingers stitched the design a few minutes before telling her, "Faith, it's so lovely out; there's not a cloud in the sky, and the roses are already starting to bloom in the garden. Why don't you go and do that on one of those nice benches out there? The fresh air will do you good, and you know how much you love roses." She was hoping that would be enough of a lure to draw her outside.

Faith looked up from her handwork. "Roses? Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. I was hoping tha’ there would be some here in this new world." She placed her embroidery into a canvas bag that was near her chair. "Perhaps I will gang ou' for awhile. I'll be back in plenty of time to fix the supper, though."

"It's all right; it won't hurt anyone to have supper a little late. You enjoy yourself, and we'll see you in a little while." That said, she watched the girl go, smiling, before turning to her own chores.

Faith went outside, but couldn't bring her feet to take her in the direction of the more central area of town. Then she remembered the fence behind the church had been covered with vines that looked like they could be climbing roses, so she went back there. There were roses indeed starting to bloom in abundance, and as she stepped up to sniff their wonderful fragrance, something caught her eye. Hanging on a hook on the fence was an iron key ring, with several old fashioned skeleton keys on it. Curious, she lifted the ring from the hook, and looked around, wondering what the keys could have gone to. Walking down the fence, she would have missed the child sized door in the fence if she had not knelt down to examine a beautiful white rose tipped with red on the ends of its petals. It was then she noticed the small door hidden behind the overgrowth of the climbing roses.

Her natural curiosity urging her on, she took the key ring, and started trying keys to the lock in the door. The third one turned, and, steeling herself for whatever possibility lay on the other side, she turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

As she peeked inside, her mouth opened in surprise. Instead of the dry, almost barren landscape of the rest of the city of Edan, there was a lush green garden! Backing out, she stood up. Something was not right here. Hopping up to try to look over the fence, Faith wondering why no one had ever mentioned this before. But she was too short to see over the fence. Looking around, she spotted a nearby log and climbed onto it. As she looked on the other side of the fence, all she saw was more of the same dry ground, and just a short distance away the forest. There was no sign of a garden at all. Shaking her head in wonderment, she got back down on her knees once more and looked through the gate. The beautiful garden was still there, beckoning her to enter in.

Faith shivered and crossed herself. Saying a quick prayer for God to protect her from any malicious wee folk just in case there were any in that mystical looking place, Faith crawled through the tiny door and then stood on her feet in amazement, looking around. It was so beautiful! Terribly overgrown and horribly neglected, but still beautiful. Everywhere she looked were flowers, bushes and trees. In the center of the garden was a beautiful marble fountain, with a statue of a mother and child in the middle of it. Little cherubs lined the base of the statue, but their little pots had long since stopped pouring water.

Faith investigated, and found the fountain clogged with leaves and moss. She immediately rolled up her sleeves and set about the work of clearing it, and within an hour, she had the clogs removed. As she pulled out the last stubborn mass of vegetation, she was rewarded by a gush of water into the empty little pool at the base of the lady’s feet. Once the water reached the right level, there was a gurgling sound, and water started to trickle out of the cherub’s pots.  Pleased with her efforts, Faith looked around for a bit more, completely enchanted by what she saw. While she was investigating a small rock waterfall, her back to the fountain, she didn’t see the bright sparkle of light that shot out of one of the cherub’s pots, and then flitter a few times around the statue before flying through the flowering vegetation to a small stream of water, where it was joined by several more sparkles of light.

After a while, she sat down on a bench located near the fountain, and pulled out her handwork from the bag she had brought with her, humming an old hymn to herself as she sewed. This was a wonderful place! Her own secret little garden where she could come to be alone!

Meanwhile, Father Philip Callahan was holding the usual after school soccer practice with boys from his parish; when the ball was kicked very wide, and went flying around the side of the church, he called out that he'd get it back, and trotted off after it. He saw it resting against a wall, went over and picked it up....and when he straightened up again, the scenery that greeted him was entirely different.

He was no longer on the playing field, but in some sort of overgrown garden. Turning around, he thought he saw the sparkle of little lights about the tiny creek running through the garden. ~A fairie glen~ he thought to himself, a pleased smile on his face at the thought. Looking around, he parted some thick flowering vines, and suddenly froze in place. There, sitting on a bench in a shimmering beam of sunlight was a beautiful young woman, her head bent over what he recognized instantly as a priest's stole.

He had no idea how he'd been transported to wherever this was, let alone who the woman was, but he crossed himself, telling himself that whatever plan the Lord had for him, he would carry out, and cleared his throat, then called softly, "Excuse me, Miss? Can y'tell me where I am?"

Faith squealed in surprise, jumping to her feet, clutching the stole to her breast. "Merciful Faither!" she called out, her face white with fright. "Who be ye? Where did ye gang from?"

"Don't be frightened....I'm Father Philip Callahan, of St. Sebastian's .... though this certainly doesn't look like th'back of that particular buildin'." He smiled slightly at her, trying to assume a non-aggressive stance; he'd obviously startled her enough already!

"Yer no Faither," she said, looking over his strange garb. He was wearing a sleeveless sweatshirt, sweatpants and sneakers. “Least ways not like any ah ha’ ever seen afore!” But then she remembered seeing Father Ralph dressed in riding clothes as he was leaving the rectory to go ride one of the Thoroughbred mares that had been part of the Campbell girl's dowry. It had really surprised her to see a priest wearing something other than his clerical clothing.

He looked a bit distressed that she didn't believe him, though a quick glance down at his clothes gave him the clue why she'd say such a thing, and he said, "I am; it's no lie. Some of th' boys from my parish and I were having our weekly soccer practice, th' ball went around the back of th' church, I went to get it, and when I stood up....I wasn't anywhere near th' church any longer. Please believe me, I mean ya no harm."

“Ah ken that now,” she said in a soft Scottish burr, still holding her handwork clutched to her chest. “Wa’ ye be wantin’ me to take you to the Kirk house? The guid faithers there could be answering yer questions a lot better than a lass like meself.”

He smiled, feeling better she was more relaxed now, and told her, "I'd like that, thank ya. I knew th' minute I saw you working on tha' stole that you were one of th' ladies of the church here; you do lovely work."

She blushed and dropped a curtsey. "Thank ye, Father," she said, not resisting as he reached for it to look at the delicate embroidery on the white silk. An intricate pattern of intertwined knots went up one side, and a shepherd's staff on the other. "Me sisters and I are working on an altar cloth as well."

"And I'm sure their work is as wonderful as yours. Is it far to th' church from here? I seem to have landed - I still don't know how - in some sort of cloister. Please don't tell me it's the nuns' sanctuary." He blushed a bit at that thought, try though he might not to.

She shook her head. "'Tis but a garden behind the Kirk itself," she told him. "Sad to say, there is no order of sisters here. If there were, I would be there now meself," she said sadly. "Come, sir, let me show you the way out. Ye would never find it yourself." She led him through the garden to a wooden wall, and then knelt down to push aside some vines, revealing the door. "'Tis but a wee bairn's door," she giggled. "A braw mon like yerself will have to go thru on his hands and knees."

And sure enough, that was exactly what he did have to do; of course, he had her go through ahead of him, and when he came through and straightened up again, he found himself looking up at what had to be the back of a church. "Well, tha' looks a little more familiar. Who's the senior priest here?" he asked, as he followed her around to the front of the building.

"Father Alec," she told him. "Polish he be. The Lady Katherine said that in the old world, he was a martyr for the cause of Christ. The other one is Irish like yerself. His name is Father Ralph and he came here by way of Australia."

The young priest's face lit up at that, and he smiled, "Another Irishman! I like him already. But you've told me everyone's name but your own, and I like ta know everyone in the parish."

She blushed prettily again. "Bethany Faith MacDonald," she said in a soft voice as she dropped another curtsey. "My sisters be Grace and Hope." Together, they crossed the short distance to the church and the rectory next to it.

Philip stood behind the young woman as she knocked on the door; he figured she should be the one to introduce them, since she already knew the clergy here.

The door was opened by Father Ralph de Bricassart, who smiled politely at Faith and looked with interest at the man behind her. "Can I help you?" he asked. Faith blushed again, and mumbled a quick introduction, then said she had to run back home to tend to the supper.

Father Ralph laughed as she fled. "Welcome to Edan, Father Philip," he said reaching up to shake the newcomer’s hand. "She's a good kid, isn't she? A little on the shy side, but as sweet as they come."

"She seems very nice; and talented, as well. She was embroiderin' a stole when I....arrived. I'm still not exactly clear on how tha' happened, so maybe you can explain it ta me a little more clearly. Sorry about my clothes, but I was in th' middle of soccer practice with some of th' boys from my parish. My other parish. Th' one I left to come here." The more he thought about it, the more it was starting to give him a mild headache. When he was settled in here, the first thing he was going to do was take a shower, and the next, sort all this out in his mind. He wondered if the priests here would have any of the clothing of their vocation in his size.

Ralph gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "It is disorientating at first, but everyone seems to adjust fairly quickly. Come, let me introduce you to Alec. He has kitchen duty tonight. There is an empty room upstairs. I believe there are several robes and other things in the closet. This house seems to come equipped for priests of all sizes and shapes." As they entered the kitchen, the rich odor of Chicken Paprika greeted them. But when the cook turned and smiled at them, Philip stopped in his tracks and gaped at Father Alec in surprise.

He stood there for a long moment, simply staring at the man; then, finally finding his voice, he managed to get out, "You....you're Father Alec Popieluszko. You were one of th' strongest fighters for Solidarity in Poland in the mid 80's and....you died almost 20 years ago. How can you possibly be here?"

"I don't remember dying," he said with a shrug. "Though I have been told that I didn't survive the beating I was getting. One minute I was being pistol-whipped, the next I was here. Praise God for that. Apparently I was given a second chance to be of service."

Philip glanced at Ralph who just shrugged. "Don't look at me, it was after my time. I came from the 1920's myself."

Philip continued to stare at the murdered (at least where he'd come from) priest; then he asked, "Father....one of you *really* has ta explain this whole thing to me. Maybe over lunch?" The young priest's stomach rumbled as the wonderful smell from the cooking pot overwhelmed it, and Philip remembered he hadn't eaten lunch. Maybe they could even tell him how to get back to St. Sebastian's, if there was a way; the boys would certainly be worried about him.

Together the three men sat down at the table, and Alec and Ralph filled Philip in on all the details of their life on Edan. "We even have a map of sorts now." He got up and brought back a hand drawn map and placed it beside Philip. "We are here," Ralph said, as he pointed out the different settlements. But there was one that immediately caught Philip's eye. The one called "Legacy House".

Trying not to give too much away, he asked, "The people from this place....have ya met with them at all, either one of ya?" His mind couldn’t stop racing as he wondered how many of his friends and co-workers, of a sort, were also there!

"They came to the party we had recently. I believe their names were Derek and Nick," Ralph said. "But I'm not sure. I met a lot of new people that night." Including a girl that looked like the only woman he had ever loved, he mused to himself.

Derek and Nick....Philip smiled as he heard his suspicions confirmed, and asked, a little eagerly, "Were there any women with them? Two ladies by the name of Alex and Rachel, by any chance?" He had to ask, to try and determine how much of the San Francisco House were there.

Alec shook his head. "Not that I know of," he replied. "Women are in rather short supply around here, and new faces attract a lot of attention."

Philip nodded; once he got over there, somehow, and saw Derek and Nick, he'd also find out what the story was with the female Legacy members of that house. Which brought up another question...."How do we travel around here?" From what he'd seen, it wasn't exactly a modern city with cars.

"Horses," Ralph grinned, even though Alec looked pained. "And there is a schooner that makes a regular run up the river now. Perhaps you can take passage on it the next trip."  He had not missed the new Priest's express interest in the Legacy House and it's occupants.

But for now, the information was stored away, as the young Irishman nodded again. As the three priests finished their dinner, he promised himself that next day, whether it be by horse, schooner, or whatever means available, he was going to visit the House and check things out for himself.