Breaking Bread (ZL)

Breaking Bread

Criteria: Historical, ship/boat, writer/storyteller

Some people have a knack for finding strange things; strange things always seem to find Zane Legends. But strange didn't exactly describe the events of this particular year, 1865. It was a hard year all over the world, but especially here in Ireland.
“Dere's no food da'....” young Lissie Mcguillen said, as she looked up at her father with hunger in her 10 year old eyes; eyes that had seen a darker side of the world than most others 3 times her age. But her father, a proud Irish farmer, who had built his house from the ground up, and tilled his own land since he was a lad, was not one to shed tears for hunger, or for anything else. But when when those young eyes looked up at him two weeks earlier and asked shamefully if she could help plow the fields to make the potatoes grow faster, it was all he could do to keep himself from falling to his knees and give in to the urge to weep openly in front of the only family he had left.
“I 'ave some bread 'ere in me pack lil Lissie girl, don ya worry,” he said with a wink, and he fished through the few belongings he had brought with him on the boat ride to the Americas. His hands found the old crusty half loaf and instinctively pulled off the crusts so his daughter wouldn't taste the hard, stale (and most likely moldy) parts- which he saved for himself. “See now, hows dat for your pleasure cruise feast” he said smiling. Lissie took the bread from her father and ate it slowly, not missing a crumb.
Zane sat from a near corner of the vessel and watched the exchange with admiration. He sat and stared as the little girl nibbled on her pathetic excuse for bread all the while keeping her eyes locked on her father. The look on her face was that of a blind man who had been grated the gift of sight. A mixture of unbelievable gratitude and respect was painted vividly on her face. Zane suddenly realized that the little girl was watching him too. He turned his head awkwardly and pretended to yawn, but it was too late. The girl was already on her way over. The father said nothing, he just smiled and watched her walk away. It was the look of a man that knew how precious of a possession he carried and had no problem letting others admire it too.
“Ello” young Lissie said to Zane.
“Oh, um, hi” he replied.
“Where are ya from mister” she asked.
“Oh I get around” was all he replied. His short answers weren't enough to deter his newfound company. So he relinquished his laying down position so she could sit next to him, but as he did so his stomach woke up and remembered that it had been a long time since it's last meal and complained loudly.
“You ungry mister” Lissie asked.
“Oh, I'm ok, it's just that I ran out of potatoes.”
“Yeah, you an ever'one else!” The girls father said as he bent down to eye level. “Now Lissie, you arn botherin this ere fella are ya?” He asked smiling.
“I don tink so da....am I boterin' ya mister?” She asked, now looking at Zane with those same big wet eyes.
It took Zane a moment of clearing his throat before he could answer. “Oh no, she's good company sir,” he said, smiling down at the girl.
Smiling widely now, the girl broke her small hunk of bread in half and handed it to Zane “Ere mister, dis'll keep your belly quiet for a bit.”
Zane didn't know what to say. He was starving, which wasn't something he was particularly used to, but at the same time he couldn't take this girls bread, he had seen how little they really had. Seeing the pained look on his face, Lissie leaned in and whispered “don worry, da always picks off da bes' parts for me, he keeps the hard stuff for himself.” A fact that her father hadn't known that she noticed. Zane looked pittyingly at her father but his only words of support were, “tis er bread to do wit as she pleases, mister, I would eat it fi were you dough, before dat dere song your gullet is singin turns into a chorus.”
Zane hesitantly took a bite. It was the worst bread that he had ever tasted (and he had tasted his fair share of breads). But seeing the wide smile on Lissie's face and her eyes locked on his own was enough to swallow it gratefully.
“Thank you lil miss” he said.
“Oh I'm Lissie, an he's me da'”
“Pat Mcguillen,” the Irishman said, extending his hand.
“Zane Legends, nice to meet you.”
“Say mister Zane, where did you get dat scar?” Lissie asked.
“Oh this,” Zane said touching the side of his face. “well that is a long story.”
“Well, we arn' exactly goin' anywheres Mr Legends,” Pat said smiling.
“A story! Yes, a long story!” Lissie shouted. “Da' get your book!”
“Book?” Zane asked.
“Oh, it's nothin'.” Pat said as he dug out a scraggly looking notepad from his coat pocket. “I jus been writin' down bits ere and dere of ta stories dat dese ere folks ave. I wan ta write a book about it someday, ya know, abou da great famine an the voyage an all dat.”
“Wow, do you really think anyone would read a story about our trip. It's pretty boring,” Zane asked laughing slightly.
“Oh I'm sure sum un'll be a readin it someday. We ave ta get our stories out dere mister Legends, let dose poor people know what we been trough. Show da world what real appiness is.”
“You know the secret to happiness then Mr Mcguillen?” Zane asked sarcastically.
“Oh I don be claimin an great wisedom about notin'....but I do know dat life isn about avin pride in your heart with what cha got.” he said, turning his focus from Zane to his young daughter, “It's abou findin dose that'll stick wich ya when you ain got notin but the pride in your heart left, an still bein appy.” Tears that Mr Mcguillen had been holding in for far longer than he could remember began falling down his face and he dropped his gaze and shook his head in shame. He tried desperately to wipe his face before his daughter could see, but when he pulled his sleeve clear of his face he saw those big wet eyes looking right back at him. Streaks ran down Lissie's face where the tears had pushed away the layer of dirt that the month long “pleasure cruise” had slowly caked on. She said nothing, but understood everything. She knew in that moment why her mom had left, she knew why she stayed when her mom asked he to come with her, she knew why she was happy now when they had nothing, and why she would be happy for the rest of her life.
Without thinking Zane pulled them both into a big hug and wept into their shoulders. They looked at him with eyebrows raised but just laughed loudly and hugged him back.
Years later when Zane was a much older man, he was walking along the booming streets of New York and paused. He saw a young girl perched on the steps of a big skyscraper. It had been a long time since he thought about that day on the boat, but in that child's eyes he remembered it all again as though it had just happened. He approached the girl timidly and reached into his pocket for a small roll of bread that he had for some reason always carried with him; and suddenly realized why.