O'hara's Choice - Leon Uris [30]
There’s no lack of humor in an Irish pub and there was no lack of it in the deceptively gentle boy who, only God knows why, enjoyed girls more than the smell of stale ale.
Zachary was a walking boy, all caught up in the wonderment of the neighborhoods. Bearing no ill will and always ready with a handshake and smile, Zachary was comfortable down there with the Italians and Germans opposite Hell’s Kitchen on the East Side. There were the strange wonderments of the Chinese and the Jews all staking out boundaries and their own peculiar aromas and singsong talk.
He had a black friend, a teamster’s assistant who took him to the Black Continent on the Upper West Side.
Zach understood something tremendous was happening. They all wanted a piece of America. Something grand was going to emerge from the confusion.
But in truth, one would be hard put to say who missed the crisp air of the parade ground the most, Paddy or his fine son.
Had not that terrible night happened, burying them both under a rubble of secrecy, they might well have drifted into a stable relationship. But what happened was bound to happen and it did, and the foulness of it all ripped their hearts out.
Zachary O’Hara was sworn in before his eighteenth birthday and Paddy died a little over a year later from stomach cancer, taking that terrible night to his grave.
1890—Two Years Later—Washington
From day one Zachary O’Hara was fully aware of the name he carried into the Corps, but he also knew he could never be his da, despite their terrible ending.
No doubt the Corps was damned glad to get O’Hara but more proud that O’Hara never tried to get a free ride. He was dedicated, decent, well read, and well mannered, a solid Marine on his own.
After his short tour of duty in the Washington barracks, Private O’Hara was assigned to two years in the new AMP course being launched.
He devoured his studies, had a penny in his pocket, buddies in the barrack, girls at the Riverside Amusement Park on the Potomac, and Washington seemed like cherry blossom time all year round.
Despite his low station, Zach’s ballroom prowess became known and his services were constantly sought. The presence of a mere Marine private at the more formal affairs caused eyebrow-raising contretemps among the charmingly dull but ambitious officer cadre in the capital.
The charmingly dull daughters of the establishment, age sixteen and beyond, were breathless to be able to snare him for an evening.
Charmingly stern fathers and chirpy mothers gave their daughters leeway when it came to Zachary O’Hara, considering that his late father was one of the most celebrated heroes in the nation’s history.
Although the AMP studies were severely demanding, Zachary had acquired military knowledge from birth, and it gave him a leg up. He did what any good Marine would do under the circumstances, ran the clock out on very little sleep and mastered the fine art of sleeping while eating breakfast. He thrived on it, even when Gunny Kunkle leaned on him.
As Amanda Kerr had surmised, they ran into each other now and again.
Horace Kerr realized that his daughter Amanda was too intelligent, too adventurous, for any of the young men in her circle. He also recognized that Private O’Hara seemed to be the only young man who could keep up with her.
Horace went into a soft strategy. He made his own appraisal of Zachary O’Hara and was impressed. Damned shame, Horace thought, he didn’t have a proper pedigree.
Amanda was now past seventeen. Her important life decisions lay ahead. The father and daughter were well into their first true era of peace. From the cotillion onward, they seemed to feel each other’s rhythms. He had given her a lot of room to rove in and she in turn had seriously taken on her family duties.
Now this Zachary fellow, he reckoned, was very attractive and Amanda had never been so taken by a boy. It was only a matter of time before she would want to invite him again. If Horace made a fuss, it could lead to another rebellion.
Rebellions rarely happened, once when Amanda