UnBaptized

By Tom Richards

About UnBaptized

In the late 1960's, Brigid, a devout Catholic, lives on Dursey, an isolated Island in Southwest County Cork, Ireland with her husband Frank and her father-in-law John. As a small rural island, Dursey has only a few residents, most of them farmers and fishermen. The single Village has one main s

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storylines Entertainment Ltd
• Release date: Jun 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9781915959140

Tom Richards

ABOUT TOM RICHARDS With the publication of this novel, Tom Richards is considered to be an 'accomplished writer' of novels and screenplays. Including Feature Films and Films for Television, Unbaptized is his sixteenth novel or screenplay to be delivered to audiences across the world. Born in Chicago, Illinois in 1955, Tom's father, Bill Richards, was a pilot for United Airlines. Due to his father's career, Tom has lived in many US states as well as a wide number of locations in Ireland, and has travelled extensively throughout Europe and the Indian sub-Continent. Currently, he lives in Eyeries, County Cork, Ireland with his puppy Bluebell and cat Sasha in a house overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. He has no plans to move again. "I've moved at least twenty-four times and I'm done moving. All I want to do now is write."Richards is currently working on a number of other novels and screenplays. He has also started his first stage play based on the Irish and Scottish folktale, the Selkie. He plans to finish a new novel provisionally entitled, Annie's Joy, as well as the stage play in a few months.Tom has had a diversified career which includes journalism, marketing, teaching, and has worked at a variety of jobs during his college years. He's the first to encourage new novelists to sit down and write and also provides free video tutorials for those working on their first novel and/or screenplay on TikTok. He can be found at @tomrichardsdolphin2021

Book preview

Forward from the Author

I started writing UnBaptized over twenty years ago as a Screenplay with my best friend, film Producer Liam O’Neill. As the narrator of this tale, Gull, tells you at the beginning of Chapter 1, this novel is based on a true story. It’s not ‘true-to-life’ as some books and film are, or ‘inspired by’. It’s based on a true story of evil that occurred in Ireland starting hundreds of years ago and only stopping just over thirty years ago.

Crimes like this should never be forgotten. If we who live in Ireland don’t remember what happened to stillborn children and their mothers as well as victims of suicide and the remains of sailors and other people who a local Catholic parish priest believed were unbaptized, then the sin of the Cilliní could happen again. In some ways but in a much smaller way, it’s rather like the Holocaust. Many people worry that the next generation of younger people will grow up to believe that the crimes committed against the Jews in World War II were all science fiction. But the vast majority of us know that they were anything but fiction. It was all too real. Millions of Jews and other peoples were murdered by the Nazis.

There really are over 2,000 of these unblessed gravesites called, in Gaelic, ‘Cilliní’, scattered around Ireland holding God-knows-how-many bones of those who are buried there. Truly, this is a crime and cannot ever be permitted to happen again anywhere in this world of ours. This writer has learned as he wrote this book: while many people are good, some are evil. While many would help others, some would ignore those that need help the most. If you want to learn more about the subject of this novel, go to: https://www.jstor.org/stable/41306895.

This, of course, is just a starting point for research. I’ve entire files filled with additional research about this horrible practice of the Irish Catholic Church and its parish priests, Bishops, Archbishops and some local lay members. But take heart. The Irish Catholic Church seems to have mostly changed its ways. Today, the Cilliní is no longer practiced in Ireland and local priests have blessed the patches of land that hold the stones that mark the graves of the unbaptized. If I could wave a magic wand, I’d lift the bones of the dead, have the priest baptize them all, and rebury them all in small caskets with their names and dates of birth written on all of them. There can be no date or names, however. No Church records exist citing the names of stillborn babies who are buried there, or of the victims of suicide, or of the sailors and others whose bones were found and buried in these unblessed gravesites. But we can try to remember them all in our prayers.

I also need to explain a number of liberties I’ve taken when writing this novel. When I started writing the UnBaptized screenplay, it turned into a very, very dark story of murder and bloodshed. Believing it was too dark for a novel and that many would put it down after reading only a single chapter, I decided to turn to the Genre of Magical Realism. For that reason, I created the characters of Gull, Owl, the Whispering Moon; Pirates that come back from the dead; Lost Souls who came alive as I wrote these words, and Living Angels who I did not create but were created by Someone that I’ll never fully understand or fathom.

I must also say that the ‘War’ in this story is entirely fictional. Although many people protested at the practice of the Cilliní, to my knowledge there was never any bloodshed between friends or families. And as to the Circular stands of spectators in the Church when Brigid is put on trial by the Bishop and his Committee Members: again, when I was researching the UnBaptized screenplay, for some reason I started to think of The Crucible, by Arthur Miller, the famous American playwright. In 1973, at Illinois Wesleyan University in Bloomington, Illinois, I played Giles Corey and one of my best friends, Kevin Dunne, played John Proctor. For the play performed so many years ago, our Crew built a circular platform which, when we walked into the centre of it, felt as if we were walking toward certain death. Giles Corey’s last words as he was pressed to death with large rocks placed on his chest were, More weight! After all these years, I’ve never forgotten those words. As I wrote this novel, I often thought of Mr Corey and those heavy stones that killed him. Which explains the Circular ‘stage’ that Brigid finds herself in and the view of the Judges and Bishop, and those from Dursey Village who believe that she, too, is a Witch. The Centre means certain death, while the stands hold many that will die very, very soon. Just like our stage in the IWU performances of The Crucible.

And finally, all I can do is wish you peace, all who read this. As the Full Moon whispers to Snowy Owl and Gull, Be well my Dear Friends. Good night from this strange new world which is now a Novel written by an Unknown novelist. Peace be with you and in return, perhaps you’ll ask your God to give the writer peace as well as his Partner Carmel, sometime in their lifetimes. Amen

Finished this glorious day in God’s Village of Eyeries, County Cork,

In the Republic of Ireland,

Not far from Dursey Island which is the location of this story, By the Hand of Tom Richards, 28 June 2023

Cast of Characters

Gull – a talking Seagull who narrates this tale

Snowy Owl – the Gull’s best friend. He is always eating mice and rats

Whispering Moon –whispers to those who need help, like Brigid, the Owl and the Gull

Brigid Sheehan nee O’Connor (late 20s) – Catholic, unhappy with her husband Frank, she becomes obsessed with finding her daughter, Nuala, when Frank and the Bishop bury the stillborn baby in the unsanctified cemetery

Frank Sheehan (45) – ignorant of what his wife wants, he dislikes children and only likes to work on his farm. A sinful man, Frank eventually discovers the loving man he truly is

Teresa McGuire (42) – went to school with Frank and will someday marry him

John Sheehan (60s) – selfish and also ignorant of women, as a devout Catholic he dislikes Brigid because she has taken his dead wife’s place as wife on the farm

Father Paul (mid-30s) – intelligent, sophisticated for his time, he worries about Brigid’s health as it declines and attempts to stop the mob from killing her

Annie O’Connor (mid-30s) – Brigid’s best friend and village nurse. She looks after Brigid when pregnant and tries her best to save Brigid’s child from certain death. Stubborn and courageous, as a strong woman she stands up to the many injustices women suffer.

Gerald Sean (40s) – Annie’s forgotten husband who had also passed on until he comes back to help her and guide her to Heaven after she dies a fiery death

Brigid’s Mother Joanna (62) – passed on and comes back as a Ghost to help her daughter and grand-daughter Nuala

Nuala (3 years old) – the unbaptized infant who died due to complications during birth. Nuala also comes back as a Living Ghost to help her mother, Brigid

Sean (14) – Nuala’s friend. Born in the early 20th Century, we soon discover that he is the son of a Captain Pirate

Bishop Miles Gantry (late 50s) – originally from England where he was ordained, he was sent to Cork to be its Bishop. Dursey is part of his many parishes. He never likes to visit but on that Easter, it’s his turn to celebrate Mass with the local PP. It is this Bishop who accuses Brigid of blasphemy for believing that her unborn infant never died. It is he who believes the accusation of theft levelled against Brigid, and he who decides she must face trial in a Kangaroo Court for her many sins against God

Sargent Lorcan Andrews (late 30s) – a brave Garda Sargent who does his very best to save Brigid and Annie from the Village Mob.

Sally Andrews (30s) – his dead wife. She died going to Cork when the cable car failed and she was lost at sea. They always wanted a child. She comes back to Lorcan so that they can both have a happy life

George O’Neill (late 50’s) – Postmaster of the Island. A good man, George does his level best to defend the Village from the Mob.

Nancy Callaghan (70s) – something of a racist. She is one of those that believe Brigid and Annie are guilty as charged and should be put to death

Loanna (30s) – black African. Works as nurse in Dublin City hospital and as midwife in a Nigerian village. Wife of the Pirate Captain, both were born hundreds of years ago. She helps Annie to try to save Brigid’s stillborn baby, Nuala

Captain John Harrington (40s) – Pirate captain and husband to Loanna. A man and ghost who knows his duty, he works to save the Village and Brigid by invading Dursey Island with his Pirate Warship and its crew

Clare and Fiona – both in their 40s. Friends to Brigid and Annie

Veronica Quinn (22) – Independent Newspaper Reporter

Jack O’Neill (28) – Independent Newspaper photographer

Donal Sullivan (54) - owner of the Sullivan bar. Tries to save Brigid’s life as well as that of Annie and Father Paul

Jason Talbot (36) – a local Village Butcher, Jason is elected to the Bishop’s Illegal Committee and Judge to find Brigid guilty as charged. He soon changes sides and works to save her, instead.

Endurance – the Captain’s mighty Royal Navy Warship

Michael Collins – the Pirate Captain’s first command

The Chimera – a Golden Battleship that fights with the Captain’s Mighty Fleet

Constant Woman – a wooden Warship that also fights in the Captain’s fleet

Sagar (20s) –First Lieutenant who commands Pacific Natives to help make war on the evil men of the Village

Harsha (5) – Sagar’s only child, she eventually becomes a Royal Naval Captain and receives her own command

Ensign Caroline Lynn – from Portsmouth England. She fought at Nelson’s side on the HMS Victoria

USN Ensign Roger Allen (20s) – Flight 19 Pilot. Lost at sea for over 50 years and never died

US Marine Sargent Rollen Pethtel (20s) – fought in Korea and never died

The Full Moon Whispers to Brigid

by: Anonymous

Brigid said to the Owl who was her friend:

"My baby has been stillborn and I have nothing left,

Not even a husband because he has accused me of theft.

My baby my lamb has been brought to the Cilliní,

A Place that many think is filled with Satan and ghosts that sin."

The Owl hooted back to her:

"Be well, young woman, your Holy Child is not dead.

Your Nuala is alive and buried in the unsanctified cemetery that is truly blessed."

The Gull landed on her window sill by the Owl who was his best friend.

Scratching its feathers, it squawked: "Please Brigid, don’t lose your courage, faith or strong will. The Bishop has been barred from Paradise because he has sinned.

He will go to hell for what he has done to you and all those you love."

Brigid started to cry and watched her Bird Friends fly toward the Setting Moon

And asked them "Where do I go now? And what do I do?

Everything I have ever loved seems dead."

The Full Moon whispered to her as it set in the West,

"Dear Saint Brigid, go to sleep now. Your Father

In Heaven has heard your heart crying for help.

He will not ignore you. He ignores no living creature,

Not even a Gull, an Owl, or a Setting Full Moon.

"Nothing has ended. It is a start of your

Most famous adventure and may I add,

You will always do your best to honour those you love."

The young woman went to sleep as the Moon finally set

And prayed, "Dear Father and my Lord in Heaven,

Bless those who sin against you and let no one go to Hell.

Let anyone who believes in Your Divine Will

Practice Your Holy Prayer of the Golden Rule.

Amen."

Act One Accusations

Chapter 1

As the full moon sets in the west five hours after the sun had risen in the east, a snow-white barn owl and a grey and white seagull soared over the Atlantic on their way to the small Island they both called home. Looking down on the gentle waves of the open sea, the Owl began to hoot as it smelled the mice and rats in the farmhouse barn on Dursey Island.

Gull, I’m famished! We’ve been flying high above that grand Ocean for over five hours and my wings are beginning to get cramps in them.

Don’t worry, Snowy Owl, the Gull replied. See that big pair of wires down there? Let’s perch on them for a few minutes then we can get our pairs of wings home!

Descending in a pair of spirals, the Owl caught a wire with both clawed talons and settle upright. He watched as the Gull, with its swimming feet, soared down and tried to grab the wire next to his best friend. But as he tried, he slipped and, grumbling about his great clumsy feet, took to the air again.

Gull, your feet are made for water, the Own hooted again. You need talons on your feet just like mine. Then you can perch anywhere you choose to land.

The Gull thought about this advice. Seeing a dense thicket full of thorny bushes, the buzzed it and when he’d placed both feet in it, he withdrew them and found that at least a dozen huge berry needles had penetrated both of his webbed feet.

Trying to land again on the thick wire, he dived toward it then pulled up at the last minute just like the Owl did. He grabbed the wire with his feet, closed them tight and the thorns in front and behind his webbing made a perfect circle.

What good advice, Snowy. See? I can now perch anywhere I want. And if the thorns fall out, all I have to do is find a berry bush again.

They felt the wire vibrate and looked up. A strange rectangular box descended through the coastal sea fog toward them. Flying up again before it hit them, they looked down at that odd beast and heard a woman thinking.

I know what that young woman is thinking and who she is, the Full Moon whispered as it rose in the West again. She has been quite ill, the poor lamb. She has a fever and she is pregnant and her name is Brigid Sheehan.

Sheehan? the Gull asked the Moon. That’s the farm near the fields where I sometimes land to eat insects and worms.

Brigid, the wise young Owl added. She is the woman who slops the pigs and piglets and who also feeds the White Horse that is also pregnant with a foal every morning.

Listen to her, whispered the Moon. That Brigid Sheehan is close to bursting into tears.

They all listened and as they did, they could hear the cry of an unborn child inside the woman’s stomach.

Do I hear a baby crying? the Gull asked. But it’s not even born yet.

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The two Big Birds and the Moon listened and as they looked down on the cable car, these are the upset words of thinking they all heard.

‘We are alive, we’re alive, we are alive. And we’ve come home’.

Brigid looked out the open window of the Island’s cable car as it swung high above a churning sea. Waves of white water struck the black cliffs in the narrow gap between the rocky coast of Dursey Island and the Irish mainland near Allihies, in County Cork. Above the heavily pregnant woman and her husband Frank, the sky was crystal blue and a seagull and a white owl soared overhead as they hunted for fish in the calmer waters just south of the Island. High above them, a jet airplane left a trail of white as it flew in from the west and on to Europe.

Frank, do you remember when President Kennedy came to Ireland with his wife Jackie? Why don’t we have a photo of the assassinated president in the house.

Frank spat over the side of the cable car as he stared out to the mainland, back toward the cable car station. Mam had one for years but when she died, Da’ took it down and burned it. He said that he had no time for any Kennedy, much less a philanderer and a Democrat. Da’ said he wanted Nixon to win.

But isn’t that man going to be a crook someday? Brigid asked. Mam said that any man with such a long nose was born to lie.

You mean like Pinocchio? he laughed. That’s a wooden toy, Brigid, not a man. Do you still believe in fairy-tales?

Sure I do. My Mam and Daddy read all the Disney stories to me when I was just a little girl. Mam always said that I reminded her of Sleeping Beauty only that my hair was red, not yellow.

Looks like I married an ignorant eejit, Frank replied, smirking at her. Are you going to read them to the kid when you have it?

Why, yes, I’ll read them. I put them in our attic when we were married. Don’t you remember the big box you took upstairs?

Frank turned away from his wife and spat again into the sea. He watched it being swept away by the cold early April wind then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulled his overcoat tight around him. Yeah, I remember. But after you went to our bedroom, Da’ said I should burn them. And I did. I made a fire outside in the field and burned all of them, wife.

You burned my books? Brigid asked as she grasped the railing. But those were my books! I told you. Mam and ‘Da bought them for me.

Gone now. Scattered to the four winds.

The cable car began to slow as it descended toward the Island’s station. As it got lower, a fine mist swirled by them. Brigid saw that her hands were shaking and she felt a large cramp in her stomach. She buttoned her dark blue winter coat against the cold wind. She could barely squeeze into it now and wondered if she could borrow one from her father-in-law. Do you think John could lend me an overcoat? He has five of them.

Six, he said and spat yet again. This time a glob of yellow landed at Brigid’s feet. Wife, you look like our milk cow. Same stomach and big udders.

Brigid felt tears begin to seep from her eyes. As she wiped them off her cheeks, the felt the wind pick up again and wished the car had windows in it.

What’s wrong now? Frank asked as he saw her tears drop to the floor. As he spotted the other car on its parallel wire heading back to the mainland he glared at her. You’re angry at me because I didn’t take you to the doctor like I promised, aren’t you?

His wife said nothing as their car swung out of the mist and she spotted the village of Dursey with its wide dirt main street, the cemetery and the Church steeple. In the distance she could see the field where their farmhouse had been built by her father-in-law’s ancestors. At last the sun broke though the small white cloud they’d travelled through. Spotting the Island’s cable car depot, she also saw the small gravel car park. A few cars sat there and the local mechanic was working on a large farm tractor. As they slid toward the depot Frank watched his father get out of the black sedan as well as their parish priest, Father Paul. Brigid picked up the heavy suitcase she brought with her to Cork City. She smiled to herself. She’d been holding back some house money for months, ever since she learned from Nurse Annie that she was pregnant. Inside was everything she’d need for the infant for the next few months.

As the car landed at the depot, Frank opened the door and walked quickly to his father. They shook hands as Father Paul walked over to her. He took the luggage from her hands and helped her out of the cable car.

Welcome home, Brigid. Did you enjoy your time in Cork City? I hope you saw the doctor as Annie advised you to. She rang him the day you left, telling him you were on your way. She told him that you weren’t feeling very well and she was worried about your pregnancy. Brigid remained silent as they walked together toward the family’s car. It’s no sin to enjoy the city. Did you see the doctor?

Brigid frowned slightly as he opened the car door for her. She knew that telling a lie was a sin. But she could not get her husband into trouble with the priest, Annie or some of the villagers. Father, it was a grand trip. I bought so many things for the baby! But the doctor? As soon as we made it up to Cork on the bus I felt so much better I told Frank to skip the doctor. With the money we saved, he bought himself a new cap and a good winter jacket.

You didn’t see the doctor? But Annie told you…

It was just some stomach problems, Father. I bought some antacid, took two tablets, and immediately felt fine. She patted her stomach. The baby even feels better. As it turned out, we ran into the doctor in one of the department stores. He took us out to lunch and when we were finished he took me to a toilet and examined me. I told him how much pain I’d been in but he said that was fairly normal for someone so far along in their pregnancy.

As Father Paul gave the suitcase to Frank so he could put it in the boot, he turned and smiled at her. I’m so glad you saw the doctor even if it was by chance. The good Lord helps those in real need, so says the Bible. Annie will also be delighted. You were gone for two weeks. Are you happy to be back? What did you buy yourself?

Nothing big, Father. I have everything I need right here on the Island. But I did get us both one small thing. Brigid opened her handbag and peered into it. She put her hand in and opened it wider. Then she took out two rosaries. One was made of white wood and the other black. This one is for you. Mam always told me you can’t have too many rosaries.

That’s a wonderful gift, Brigid. Thank you. I’ll place that in the sacristy so I’ll never be without one. He took the black beads and carefully dropped them into his jacket pocket. Let me see the other one. When she gave them her rosary beads, he closed his eyes and silently said a short prayer. Then he blessed the beads and gave them back to her.

What prayer did you say, Father?

I prayed for you and the unborn infant. As the doctor said, you’ll both be perfect when the infant is born. Your mother said you can’t have enough rosaries, which is true. Nor can you say too many prayers for those that you love and are in any kind of need or have gone before you.

Like Mam?

That’s right Just like Joanna, your father and my parents and sister. All have passed on. Brigid, when you come to Easter Mass this Sunday bring your beads and I’ll bless them with Holy water. That’s the way it should be done, as you know. Pity I have no such water with me.

Then the front doors of the car opened. John got in behind the big wheel and started it as Frank sat in beside him. He turned to look back at Paul. Father, did Brigid give you your gift? When the priest smiled at him Frank nodded and turned toward his father. What’s for dinner, Da’? I’m as hungry as a hunter gone a bit mad.

Don’t ask me. Ask that wife of yours back there, he said as he looked at Brigid in the mirror. Well, cat got your tongue again, young woman? What’s for dinner?

I bought some cod at the market in Cork and we have potatoes and veg at home. I also bought a really nice-looking apple tart. How’s that?

Fish? For dinner? John asked as he glared at her in the rear-view mirror. That’s no dinner for a farmer. We need meat.

We’ll have roast pork for Sunday dinner.

Father Paul felt the tension in the car building as it pulled away from the depot. He leaned forward, placing both hands on the leather seat. How about a compromise, John? Brigid can have the fish and you men can have some pork chops I bought the other day in Allihies.

That’s fine, Father and thank you, John said as he turned down the narrow road that led to their farm. I’m giving you my Easter Dues next Sunday. I’ve been saving up every week for it ever since we cut the first hay of the season. It’s a large donation but one that I owe. As you know, after Maureen passed away, I got sick. For weeks, I couldn’t attend Mass but now, with the spring here, much of the work in the fields is done. Meanin’ I can start to pay my annual obligations with a bonus and interest for being so late with my weekly donation. How’s that, Father? It’ll pay for one-hundred pork and roast beef dinners. One for every week for months n’ months. He reached behind him with a large weathered hand and the two men shook on the bargain. Why not come over tonight and have dinner with us? Brigid makes some mighty fine pork dinners with all the trimmings. And her apple tart well, that’s not so good as my poor dead wife Margaret’s but as she always said, ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.

Sorry, John. I’ve some parishioners to visit tonight. They lost their mother two nights ago. We’re having their Mass and funeral right after Easter. It’s later than it’s supposed to be so they’re going to lay out the body in their barn. It’s a stone-built building, not as big as yours, but it’ll do. It’ll keep the body fresh so they can have an open coffin the day before I say the Mass for her. John, he said quietly, can’t you hire someone for a few months until Brigid has had the baby and recovers? You know she’s had a difficult time of it.

John turned to Frank. Why waste the money when I’ve got a daughter-in-law that, on some days, cooks as good as my wife when she was that age? We’ll peel the spuds and clean off the veg of soil and dump it all in the sink. That’s a compromise if I’ve ever heard of one.

Brigid felt the car pick up speed as the road widened. She saw the white wooden farmhouse with its stone chimney. Smoke billowed from it, swept by the wind across the fields. Then the large stone barn come into view and in the fenced-in yard, she could see a young horse galloping as the mare stood watching her year-old foal. In the nearby fields, lambs jumped against each other and ran through the long grass playing, while others lay against their mother’s teats, feeding. Spring had also brought the swallows and other migrant birds back from Africa as well as geese from the Arctic. These birds as well as falcons swirled like dark grey seeds against the sunny skies. She stretched and felt her face break into a large smile.

"Father, it’s just like Dorothy said in The Wizard of Oz. It might not be much but there’s no place like home."

Not much? John growled. It took me and Frank five years to get the house and barn right. And as for the new stable…

Beside her, Father Paul took her hand and rolled his eyes as if silently saying ‘Ignore him’. Brigid, there really isn’t any place in the world like home, is there? Maybe someday, when Frank finally retires, you can move to your own house and hire a bit of help. That way you can take a day off now and then.

Don’t I wish that, Father. But honestly, I don’t mind making the meals. It helps me and the baby if I stay on my feet. That’s what Annie and the doctor told me.

As the car turned into their drive, Brigid saw that it had rained again. The drive was full of mud and she worried it would soil the dress that she was wearing as well as Frank’s black Sunday trousers. But when she rolled down the window and smelled the freshly mown hay in the field, she knew that Dorothy was right. It was good to go away but it was always a wonderful gift when she came home again. ‘Home,’ she thought to herself as the car stopped near their front door. ‘There really is no place like home’.

But she always wondered what would have happened if she’d never met Frank. She had long realized that they weren’t exactly suited to each other but he’d been the only man on the Island to propose to her. As Father Paul opened the door, she knew she would have had a far different kind of life. She would have married and had a child but at least everyone in her family would be happier than they were now.

As they all went into the farmhouse, Snowy Owl flew into the barn. There, he crouched waiting on a rafter until he saw a fat mouse crawl toward a bag of wheat. He dived toward the mouse who cried like a baby. It