Foundlings -- Fiction; Long Island (N.Y.) -- Fiction
At such times I went clean crazy,
but I could do nothing. I was getting too besotted to straighten up
for any length of time. And there wasn’t any cure. How could there
be? I couldn’t cure myself. I was being poisoned by the irremediable
past. How abolish the past? It’s all very well to talk about living
a thing down, but the only thing that can be lived down is the thing
that wasn’t entirely so. My past was.
It was in San Francisco that I got acquainted with a man named Hosea
Hand and came into a strange relationship with his brother, one
Richard Hand. Hosea Hand was a sailor, one of the crew of the ship
on which I had come from Shanghai. He was younger than I, and after
we got to San Francisco and the ship’s discipline relaxed I saw a
good deal of him, first and last. One day in a lonely mood he told
me his story. His brother had cheated him out of an inheritance, or
so he figured, and he had run away to sea, like myself, as a boy.
Two things about the story struck me: his brother, if what he said
was true, might pay money to have him stay away from home--not that
Hosea Hand had any thought of returning home but I could represent
him as being bent on doing so, and myself as able to keep him away,
for a price; the other thing--and this impressed and excited me much
the more strongly--was that the Hand farm was on Long Island not far
from the little town of Blue Port where Keturah Hawkins had her home.
I turned the whole thing over in my mind during the sodden days and
nights of a week. I do not believe that in the condition I was in
all that time I was capable of reaching a bold decision--not even
boldly evil. At last I wrote to Richard Hand. I told him that I, a
stranger to him, not only knew his brother’s whereabouts but knew
his story; and I had found Hosea Hand resolved to return home and
settle accounts. I could keep the boy away, but must have something
for doing it. It would be a sensible thing for him to do business
with me. I wanted money, and I wanted information. His reply and its
enclosure would be evidence of good faith.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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