THE FAERIE
CHRONICLES:
AINE
and
FAERIE FOLK
AINE
FAERIE FOLK
Kathleen S. Allen
Copyright © 2010 Kathleen S. Allen
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
Published at Smashwords by Kathleen S. Allen
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ISBN 10: 1461195092
ISBN 13:
978-1461195092 Kathleen S. Allen
This book is dedicated to my daughters who have always encouraged me to follow my dreams.
AINE
1Aine pulled a tee shirt over her head then quickly pulled on her favorite jeans, the ones with the rip in one knee. Hopping on one foot as she yanked on her red tennies she managed to brush her red curly hair, sort of, on her way down the stairs to breakfast.
“Happy birthday Aine,” her mom said kissing her on the cheek as she passed by on the way to the stove. Her mom was a taller thinner version, same green eyes, same red hair but her mom’s was straighter and cut in a shorter style. Plus her mom didn’t have split ends.
“Thanks mom, is that French toast?” Aine’s eyes widened as her mom set down a plate of golden toast oozing with butter and sprinkled with powdered sugar in front of her. The maple syrup pitcher sat next to her glass of OJ. She poured a generous amount out then Aine cut into the toast and put a forkful in her mouth. “Oh, this is good.”
Her mom smiled at her. “I want you to stay with Granny Kate while I go to the store this morning.”
“But it’s my birthday,” Aine whined fork in mid-air, syrup dripping onto her plate. “I have plans to go shopping with Jessie and Sarah.”
“She was up half the night; she’s been waiting for you. She has a special present for you.” I’ll bet. Aine put her fork down, her appetite gone. What was the point of turning sixteen if you still couldn’t do what you wanted? Her mom continued, “Besides, you can go with Jessie and Sarah after I come home. But you have to promise to be back here by six. We have plans too.” Aine knew what those plans were. It was the same every year. Dinner at Alfredo’s, then cake and ice cream, then presents. Big deal. Aine jiggled her foot up and down scowling at her glass of OJ.
“Okay, I guess but you better be home by two,” Aine said pushing herself away from the table.
Mom laughed, “I’ll be back sooner than that and then I’ll drive you anywhere you want.” She held up her right hand with two fingers together. “Girl Scout promise.” Aine laughed too.
“You know if I had my own car you wouldn’t need to drive me anywhere,” Aine said licking a drip of syrup off her fork.
“Aine,” her mother sighed. “We’ve talked about this. I can’t afford insurance on two cars; I can barely afford it on one car. When you find a job you can start saving for a car. You don’t even have your license yet.” Yeah and at this rate I never will, Aine thought.
After her mom left Aine cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. She was stalling. She hated going in Granny Kate’s room. It smelled like a combination of dirty feet and Vicks. Granny Kate was almost a hundred years old, or so she said. Aine doubted she was that old. No one was that old. No one.
Aine took a deep breath before pushing the bedroom door open. Granny Kate was sitting up in a chair. Mom must’ve put her in the chair before she made the French toast, Aine thought. Granny was looking out the window as the summer sun streamed in. She turned her head toward Aine as the door opened. Her eyes brightened at the sight of her only granddaughter.
“Morning Granny Kate,” Aine said striding over to the old woman. She bent down and kissed a dry, wrinkled cheek.
“Aine, my dear child,” Granny Kate said in a thick Irish brogue. Granny Kate came over from Ireland last year when she could no longer take care of herself and moved in with them. “Today is your sixteenth birthday,” she continued.
“I know Granny. I get to drive the car all by myself now.” If I ever get my license that is.
Granny Kate pointed a gnarled finger toward the closet. “Go in there child and bring out the box with the green ribbon on it.” Aine was used to fetching things for her granny. She rummaged in the closet for the box. She brought it out and set it on the bed. “Go on and open it. ‘Tis your present.”
“Thank you,” Aine said politely as she took the cover off. It was probably a doll from her childhood or something. Granny Kate was always giving Aine her old childhood things. Aine accepted them gratefully and promptly packed them in a box to store in the attic. Someday she might want them, but not now. The present was wrapped in green tissue paper that had yellowed with age. She unwrapped layers to find a green dress emblazoned with tiny blue flowers. The fabric felt like silk. She held it up letting the skirt fall. On the neckline a tiny row of green beads sparkled. The same beads followed the hemline and the waist. Although it looked like it might be heavy, it was very light. It was lovely. The prettiest dress she had ever seen. Ever.
“Oh,” Aine said holding the dress up to her and twirling around. “It’s very pretty.”
“It was mine when I was your age. Your great-grandmother gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. Now it’s yours. Try it on.” What harm would it do? It was much too old-fashioned to wear out anywhere but maybe Aine could use it for a Halloween party or the Renaissance Faire. She nodded her head at her gran. Why not?
Aine went to the bathroom to change. She pulled off her tee shirt and jeans slipping the dress over her head. It floated down around her like a cloud. It was as if she didn’t have anything on. She swayed her hips so that the skirt swished back and forth. The hem fell just above her ankles. It was as if the dress was made for her. She walked back into Granny Kate’s room and twirled for her.
“It’s beautiful,” Granny Kate said. Her eyelids were drooping like she was sleepy. “Come here Aine, I have to tell you a story. I haven’t much time.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Aine said rushing over to her side.
“Sit down next to me child. It’s not a long tale, but you have to hear it today. It’s important.” Aine sat on the floor next to the chair, spreading out the skirt so she wouldn’t sit on it. She tucked her legs under her and prepared to listen.
“A long time ago in Ireland, way way back, there were only five families that had pure Irish blood with no Norman blood mixed in. And from these five families we are all descended. They were the O’Neills, the O’Connors, the O’Gradys, the O’Briens and the Kavanaughs. That last one is the family we are descended from. When someone from the family sickened and was about to die, a bean sidhe came to them to warn them.”
She saw Aine’s puzzled look.
“A faerie woman. Our family was kind to the fairies so they were kind to us in return. The faerie women were not tiny creatures like in Midsummer Night’s Dream but as big as you or I and very lovely to gaze upon. Patrick Kavanaugh, one of our ancestors, fell in love with a bean sidhe and begged her to marry him. Against the wishes of the fairies, she did so. But in order to marry a mortal, she had to become a mortal too. The only way the fairies would let her marry Patrick was to promise that every girl child born into the family would carry on the tradition of warning the sick or keening for the dead. That tradition continues until today. Every other generation there is born into the family a red-haired, green eyed girl destined to be a banshee with a caul over her face and a tiny birthmark shaped like wings on her back.”
Granny Kate lifted the pale blue shawl she wore around her shoulders and moved so that Aine could see the back of her right shoulder. There was a tiny birthmark shaped like a small pair of wings. Granny Kate smiled at Aine.
“You have this same mark, don’t you?” Aine nodded. She had often looked at it and wondered what it meant. Hers was in the same spot. Just below her right shoulder.
“Mom doesn’t have one,” Aine stated.
“No, she doesn’t.” Granny Kate seemed to be more alive today. Aine laid her head on her granny’s knee.
“So I am a banshee? What does that mean exactly? Will I grow wings?” She grinned imagining herself with wings flying around the high school above the crowds of students. Instead of answering her question Granny Kate laid a hand on Aine’s hair.
“It’s important that you wear the dress tonight Aine. Very important,” she said her voice stronger than usual.
“I don’t want to spill anything on it at dinner,” Aine said as she shook her head. She lifted her eyes to Granny Kate’s.
“You will not spill on it. Please wear it. For me. And do not take it off until after midnight. Remember not until after midnight.”
“All right. I’ll wear it.” A loud bang heralded her mother’s return from the grocery store.
“Groceries,” her mother called from the kitchen.
Aine got up. “I better go help mom put away the groceries,” she said turning to go.
“WAIT!” It was a voice of authority, not her gran’s voice which was shaky and tended to be whispery. Aine stared at her gran. “I haven’t finished telling you the tale of the dress.”
“Tell me later, I have to go help mom.” And Aine sprinted out of the room before Granny Kate could protest. She zipped into the bathroom grabbed her clothes then went into her bedroom. She slipped the dress off and hung it up on a hanger. She pulled her jeans and tee shirt back on before going into the kitchen.
“About time you showed up,” her mom said smiling. “Here, put the frozen stuff away.” Aine took the bag from the kitchen counter and began to put the groceries away. Ice cream, chocolate, chocolate chunky chip—her favorite, frozen peas, two frozen pizzas, broccoli and several pot pies. Aine liked those on the nights her mom worked late. “What did you and gran talk about while I was gone?” she asked.
Aine shrugged. “Not much. She was telling me about the old days in Ireland again.”
She rolled her eyes and her mom laughed. “Be nice to Granny Kate.”
“I am.”
“What did she want to give you?”
“A dress she wore when she was my age, it’s nice. She wants me to wear it at dinner tonight.” For some reason she kept the part about being a banshee to herself. She wanted to find out more about banshee’s. She looked longingly at her room where her laptop was stuffed inside her backpack. There was no time now, maybe later.
“You should then.” Her mom wiped her hands on a small towel. “Well, that’s that. Ready to go to the mall?”
“Let me call Sarah and Jessie first.”
Shopping was fun. Jessie had awful taste and loved anything that sparkled or glittered. She loved long dangly earrings too. Sarah liked anything that was blue or green. Those were the only colors she wore. Aine had more eclectic tastes. She liked different things.
The three of them were sipping iced lattes at the food court.
“You should see what my gran gave me for my birthday,” Aine said.
“What?”
“A green dress covered in sparkly beads,” she said for Jessie’s benefit.
Jessie’s eyes widened. “Yeah? Can we see it?”
“If you are in the vicinity of Alfredo’s tonight you can. I’m wearing it to dinner.”
“What’d your mom get you for your birthday?” Sarah wanted to know.
“I don’t know yet. I’m getting it tonight.”
Jessie dug in her bag for something. “Here ya go. It’s from both of us.
Sarah blushed.
“Thanks guys.” Aine opened the gift. Inside was a necklace. A delicate silver chain with a Celtic Knot on the end of it. “Really, thanks, I love it.”
“You do?” Sarah asked shyly. “I picked it out and Jessie helped me pay for it.”
“I love it. Here, help me put it on.” She turned to Jessie who was sitting next to her. Jessie fastened the necklace around Aine’s neck. “I’m going to wear it tonight at dinner.” She looked wistful for a moment. “Wish you guys could come too.”
“No, I think between your mom and your Granny Kate, I’ll pass,” Jessie said laughing.
“Me too,” said Sarah also laughing.
Dinner was at six. Aine was ready by five thirty. She had put on the green dress and tied her hair up into a ponytail on the top of her head. She tied a green ribbon around the ponytail. She put on the green shoes she had gotten at the mall—they were a perfect shade of green and matched the dress—and danced into Granny Kate’s room.
“How are you doin’ Granny Kate? Need any help getting ready?”
“No, your mother saw to me. I’m ready to go.” She eyed the dress and made a spinning motion with her finger. “Turn ’round.” Aine spun on her toes. “That dress was made for you,” Granny Kate said with a smile on her face. Aine smiled back.
“Thank you, I love it, don’t the shoes look good too?” Granny Kate laughed.
Dinner was wonderful. Lobster dripping with butter, fresh green salad with romaine and spinach and radicchio, carrots in a cream sauce and a hot fudge sundae for dessert. Just as Aine was finishing her sundae her mother handed her an envelope.
“Happy birthday Aine.”
Aine opened the envelope. Inside was a round-trip ticket to Ireland. She looked at her mother with round eyes. “This is for me?”
“Yes. Granny Kate paid for it. She wants you to see the ancestral home. She’s arranged for you to stay with your cousin Claire in a small cottage in Ireland for two weeks, just outside of Cork. You leave on Monday.”
“AAAH!” Aine screamed standing up and knocking over her chair on her way to embrace both her mother and her grandmother. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Aine said.
They were almost late for the flight. Aine was ready to go but forgot her Celtic Knot necklace and refused to go without it. Her mom finally found it behind the dresser where it had slipped. She held it out to Aine who gratefully fastened it around her neck. Her mom drove her, Granny Kate sat in the front. Between getting her baggage checked and rushing to the right gate, Aine was out-of-breath by the time the call came to board the plane.
“Last call for boarding Aer Lingus to Dublin,” the disembodied voice said overhead.
“That’s me,” Aine said standing up.
Her mom stood up too. Tears were in her eyes as she hugged her daughter goodbye. “I know you’ll have fun Aine, keep yourself safe and come home to us soon.”
“I’ll be fine mom,” Aine said eager to get on the plane. Granny Kate smiled up at her from her seat. Aine bent down to kiss the old woman on the cheek. “Thanks again Granny Kate for the dress and the ticket.”
“Be a good colleen Aine. Don’t be afraid to be yourself. Remember I’ll always be with you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Aine said. With one last look at the two people she loved the best in the world; Aine squared her shoulders, flung the strap of her carry-on bag over her right shoulder and walked to the boarding gate. She handed her ticket to the lady standing there who punched it and waved her through. Aine walked down a long hallway to the plane. She showed her ticket to the man standing in the doorway.
“Seat 2A, First Class,” he said with an Irish brogue pointing toward the front of the plane. Aine nodded making her way to her seat. First Class was roomy. AIne spread out magazines on the small table in front of her. She looked out the window waiting for the plane to take off.
“You’ll have to put your seat belt on until we’re in the air,” said a voice near her. Aine turned to look. A young man, near her age smiled at her. He had an Irish accent too.
“Sorry?” Aine asked.
“Seat belt, you have to buckle it,” he pointed to the buckle on her seat.
“Oh, thanks,” she laughed. “Can you tell this is my first time flying?”
He smiled back at her. “Only a little. Where you headin’?”
“Dublin first, then Cork. I’m staying with my cousin for two weeks this summer.”
“Nice. I’m heading home for the summer. I live in Galway. During the year I go to Harvard. I’m getting a graduate degree in Irish Studies.”
“Oh,” was all Aine could say. He was older than he looked. Probably twenty-two or three.
“Do you go to school?” he asked.
Aine smiled. He thought she was a college student too. She nodded. “I’m in my sophomore year.” In high school, she thought.
“Where?”
“Michigan.” Well, she did live in Michigan.
“Great school,” he said nodding at her. “What’s your major?”
“I like writing but I haven’t decided yet. Maybe acting, I’m not sure.”
“Oh well, you’ve got time. I’m working on my thesis this year. I’m doing it through the University of Galway. I hope to get a teaching job there.”
She let him ramble on. She buckled her belt nonchalantly. Before she knew it the plane was ascending and they were up in the air. She let out a breath, not aware that she had been holding it.
He noticed it and smiled. “I’m Patrick Sullivan,” he said extending a hand to her. She had to turn around in her seat to see him. She reached across the back of her seat to take his hand in hers.
She shook it. “And I’m Aine, spelled A-I-N-E O’Shea.”
“Very Irish,” he said in his brogue. She blushed. The flight attendant came through and asked for drink orders.
“Coke for me,” Aine said.
“Me too,” Patrick said. Aine looked out the window at the clouds and marveled. She was flying. She was really flying. The joy she felt at that moment was greater than any joy she had ever felt. She felt like singing. Instead she hummed under her breath.
“What’s that you’re humming?” he asked. “It sounds familiar.” The flight attendant gave them their Cokes. “Thanks,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Aine said taking a sip from her drink. She shifted in her seat so she was almost facing Patrick. “It was a song my Granny Kate taught me. She learned it when she was a child in Ireland.”
“My granny taught it to me too.” He sang the words in a clear tone. Aine joined in for the chorus and then they laughed together.
The ten hour flight seemed to pass quickly for Aine. In the middle of the night, or what Aine thought was the middle of night to her, the two of them talked about their dreams and fears. Patrick told her stories of fairies so real, she could visualize them. She fell asleep to the sound of his voice.
She awoke to the smell of coffee.
“Good Morning,” said the flight attendant. “Coffee or tea?”
“Tea, please,” Aine said sitting up. She automatically looked in the seat behind her but it was empty. She took the opportunity to walk to the bathroom. She attempted to brush her hair but decided to put it in a ponytail instead. She splashed water on her face before changing her clothes. She rubbed an aching shoulder. The plane’s seat was not the most comfortable. Once she was dressed she left the bathroom making her way back to her seat. Patrick smiled at her. He had also changed his clothes and combed his hair. His cheeks were freshly shaved too. She smiled back. She picked up the cup of tea. Next to the cup was a small menu of breakfast items. She perused it carefully.
“You’re supposed to tick the items you want,” Patrick said.
“I know,” she said as she marked “orange juice, toast with butter and marmalade.” Patrick looked over her shoulder noting the things she picked.
“You’re smart not to choose the meat, it’s awful.”
“I don’t eat meat,” she said handing the menu to the flight attendant who was coming around to pick up their menus. Aine took a sip of her tea and looked out the window at the clouds. They looked like the very same clouds as yesterday. She was much more relaxed than she had been the day before. She felt as if she could stay on this plane forever. She took a sip of her tea. It was very good.
“We should be in Dublin soon,” Patrick said.
Aine nodded. She was looking forward to seeing her cousin, Claire who was meeting her at the airport. From there they would drive to a small village just outside of Cork. But she was sad to be leaving Patrick.
As if he was reading her thoughts he said, “Mind if I give you my number? I’d like to stay in touch.” He handed her a small card with his name, phone number and email on it. She took it and slipped it into her bag.
“Thanks. I’ll call you as soon as I get settled.”
Breakfast was served. Aine was hungrier than she thought; she ate the toast quickly and drank the juice thirstily. She finished her tea and wished she had ordered something else. She yawned.
As soon as the flight attendant took their dishes away a light flashed for them to buckle their seat belts again.
“We’re on descent,” Patrick said buckling his belt. Aine didn’t answer. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. She was glad she hadn’t eaten more after all.
Once they were down on the ground and had left the plane the two of them waited in the baggage carrel for their suitcases to appear. Patrick’s bag appeared first. He snagged it then hefted it onto his shoulder. He was very tall, over six feet at least. He had the black Irish look down. Black hair, black eyes and a smile filled with charm. Aine smiled back at him.
“Well, Aine, it was nice chatting with you. Give me a call and maybe I can come to Cork. We’ll plan an evening out.”
“Thanks, I’d like that. It was nice meeting you too.” Her suitcase appeared. She grabbed it before it could go around the carrel again. Once they got through customs and security Patrick walked next to her to the gate. He was getting himself to Galway so he was renting a car. Aine watched him walk away. Tears stung behind her eyes. Then she heard her name being called.
“Aine?” said a voice. A woman with bright pink hair stopped in front of her. “I’m Claire O’ Shee, welcome to Ireland.” She gave her a brief hug.
“Hi Claire, I’m Aine.” Aine laughed. “Obviously.”
“Let me get that,” Claire said taking Aine’s suitcase from her. Aine still had her carry-on bag and her large bag slung over her shoulder. Inside the bag was her iPhone. She transferred it to her jeans pocket. For a second she regretted not taking Patrick’s picture. She doubted she’d ever see him again. Claire was talking a mile-a-minute or should she say, a kilometer-a-minute? Aine nodded but wasn’t really listening.
I am here! In Ireland! Irish brogues fell like music on her ears as they walked through the airport. She had the curious sensation of coming home.
The car, something small and red, waited for them in the car lot. Claire helped her put the bags in the trunk then got into the passenger side. Aine stood uncertain. Did Claire think she could drive? Oh well. She got into the driver’s side but there was no steering wheel. The wheel was on the other side. She smiled at Claire who buckled her seat belt.
“Ready?”
“Sure.” Claire waited until Aine had also buckled her seat belt and then pulled out into the roadway.
Aine screamed. They were on the left side of the road, the wrong side!
“What’s the matter?” Claire cried slamming on the brakes. A car behind them leaned on the horn.
Aine realized what had happened. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing is wrong. I’m sorry I screamed. I forgot you drive on the left side here.”
Claire laughed, putting the car back in gear and driving off. “Yep, only you Americans drive on the wrong side of the road, not us.”
Relaxing a little, Aine looked out at the Irish countryside. It was incredibly green here. The green was a shade that Aine hadn’t ever seen before.
“Emerald green,” she whispered. She turned back to Claire. “How long before we get to Cork?”
“About three hours or so, but we’re not going to Cork, we’re going to a small village outside of Cork. It’s called Owel. Population four, no, five now that you are here.” Aine laughed. “We can stop for a bite in a bit, if you want.”
“Thanks.”
They stopped for lunch around eleven. Aine took the opportunity to take Claire’s picture, a picture of the car and one of the small inn. She wanted to put the pictures on Facebook as soon as she could for Jessie and Sarah. Aine had tomato and lentil soup with a hunk of Irish Soda Bread and Claire had chicken noodle and a small salad. Once they were on the road again the combination of the motion of the car and a full stomach put Aine to sleep. She woke up when the car stopped.
“What time is it?” she asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Almost two. We’ll be there shortly.”
“Why did we stop?” Aine asked looking around.
“Sheep,” Claire pointed to the front of the car. A herd of sheep stood in front of them. They weren’t moving. A man and a dog were trying, unsuccessfully to push the sheep out of their way. “Move it grandpa!” Claire yelled out the half-rolled down window. She took the opportunity to light up a black cigarette and blew the smoke out the window. “Smoke?” she asked Aine.
Aine shook her head. “I don’t smoke,” she said in a patronizing tone. Claire shrugged. She smoked and waited for the sheep to move. Aine watched the man wave his hat in the faces of the sheep to get them to move. They shifted slightly to one side. As soon as he ran to the other side, they shifted back. Aine laughed. The urge to get out of the car was strong. She put her hand on the handle before she could think about it. She opened the door and stepped out into the Irish sunshine. The man mumbled something to her but she couldn’t understand him his Irish broque was too thick. She waved and nodded to him. She wandered over to the nearest sheep. Did sheep bite?
“Sheep, sheep, sheep,” she said softly. She reached out a hand to touch one. The wool was coarse to the touch. The sheep didn’t seem to mind her petting it. “Go on now,” she said to it. “Get off the road sheep.” Much to her surprise the sheep began to move. The herd wandered off the road to stand next to it and nibble on the grass beside it. Aine turned to Claire and shrugged her shoulders as if to say she didn’t know why they moved, they just did.
Claire smiled back. She unrolled the window all the way down to stick her head out. “Good job Aine! Come on, let’s go.” Aine managed to snap a picture of the sheep herd before she sprinted back to the car giving the man a quick wave as they drove off.
“How’d you get those sheep to move?” Claire asked. “I’ve been stuck behind a herd for hours.”
“I don’t know, I just asked them to move and they did.” Claire didn’t answer.
Less than an hour later they pulled up to small turn around. “The house is just over that hill there,” Claire pointed. “And there is Lough Gur, the lake where King Owel lives.”
“A king lives in the lake?”
Claire laughed. “He used to and now every seven years the lake dries up and he appears riding a white stallion with his lady Aine behind him. It is said that if you step into the dry lake bed you will remain forever young or with the fairies forever, depending on whom you ask. Only those of the faerie race can drink from the Lough Gur, it poisons everyone else.”
“Who is this Aine?”
“Some say she is a faerie queen and some say she is a goddess of love. Others say that she is the original banshee.”
“Granny Kate told me about banshees,” Aine said neglecting to mention that she was supposed to be one.
“Granny Kate and Ginny Ma know a lot about banshees,” Claire said starting the car and driving down a small dirt trail. Aine could see the ocean—no the Celtic Sea—in the distance. Finally they came to a large stone cottage with a thatched roof and two chimneys. One of the chimneys had wisps of smoke billowing out of it. “Here it is, generations of Shee’s have lived here.”
“It’s spectacular,” Aine said. “But you said ‘Shee’, isn’t your last name O’Shea too?”
“Shee is the original version of Shea.” They got out of the car and picked up Aine’s bags. “I’ve lived here since my parents died.”
“Your mother was my mother’s sister, my Aunt Maureen,” Aine said.
“Yes, and she and my da were killed in a car crash when I was four. I was brought here to be raised by Granny Kate and Ginny Ma. Ginny Ma is your Great Aunt, mine too but everyone calls her Ginny Ma.”
“Why did Granny Kate leave?” Aine asked as they walked up to the wooden front door.
“She wanted to be closer to you and your mother, I guess.”
“I thought she couldn’t take care of herself anymore,” Aine said stepping inside. The door led to a small room lit with a fire.
“What? Granny Kate? No, she’s strong as an ox that one. Ah, here’s Ginny Ma,” Claire said putting the bags down on the stone floor. An older woman who resembled Granny Kate walked into the room. She had on a dark brown dressing gown that reached the floor. Her dark brown hair, interlaced with grey strands, was piled on top of her head.
She smiled widely at Aine. “Claire, welcome back and this must be Aine. Welcome to Ireland dear.” She gave Aine a brief hug. “Please make yourself at home. Do you drink tea?”
“Oh yes. I love tea.”
“Good because Claire was just about to pour us some,” she said nodding at Claire who laughed.
“I’ll show Aine her room first so she can freshen up.” Claire turned to Aine. “Come on, this way.” Aine followed Claire to the back of the house. They entered a small room not much bigger than the one she had at home. In it was placed a small dresser and a small bed. No closet but there were pegs on the wall for hanging things. A small window in one wall drew Aine to it. She peered out of the recently cleaned glass—she could still smell the ammonia of the window cleaner—and gazed out. The sea and all its beauty gazed back at her.
She turned back to Claire with a big smile on her face. “It’s breathtaking.”
“Tomorrow we’ll go for a picnic down by the water. I want to show you the seals.”
“You have seals?” Aine asked.
“Sometimes you can hear them crying for their lost human souls at night,” Claire said. Aine looked sharply at her, not sure if she was kidding or not. “Well, here you are. Come down when you are ready. We’ll have tea and sandwiches.”
It didn’t take Aine long to put her clothes away. The bed was lumpy and smelled slightly damp. She wrinkled her nose at it. She found the bathroom and was amazed that the toilet had a pull chain instead of a handle to flush. She let the water in the sink run for several minutes but it never got above lukewarm. Great.
Downstairs they were waiting for her in the small dining room. A table was laden with tea things, cakes, breads and sandwiches.
“I’ll pour,” Claire announced as soon as Aine walked in and sat down. Claire poured the tea and handed Aine a cup. “Sugar, milk or lemon?”
“Plain thanks.” Once they all had a cup Aine took several sips. She was thirsty and hungry. She eyed the cakes but didn’t want to be the first to take one.
“Help yourself Aine,” Ginny Ma said. “This is your home too.” Claire handed her a small plate and she loaded it up with goodies. She stuffed a cookie into her mouth. It was sweet and buttery.
“This is good,” she said in between bites.
“Shortbread,” Claire said also taking several.
“Tell us about yourself,” Ginny Ma said.
Aine opened her mouth to say something but Claire piped up. “I’m sorry but I have to go.”
“Go?” Aine was confused. “I thought you lived here too.”
“I do, it’s just that I’m meeting friends in Cork tonight. I’ll probably stay over with a couple of them. You know. Have to see all of them before I go back to America.”
“You live in America?” Aine asked.
“I go to law school in New York. Columbia Law just finished my first year there. I leave in a couple of weeks, got a summer job at a law office. I better go. I’ll see you tomorrow Aine and sleep tight Ginny Ma.” She got up and walked over to Ginny Ma to give her a kiss on her cheek. She was gone before Aine could take another sip of tea. What now? Aine wondered. She put the tea cup down.
“I expect you’re tired from your trip, aren’t you dear? Finish your tea and go have a lay down. I’ll call you when its time to eat.”
Aine took one last swallow of her tea and stood up. “Thank you.” She went up to her new room and lay on the musty bed. Feelings of loneliness overwhelmed her. She missed her mother and Granny Kate. She felt the tears sting her eyes. She didn’t want to cry but she couldn’t help it. She sobbed into the mildewed pillow. Tears spent, she fell into an exhausted sleep only to be woken up in the middle of night by a strange noise.
“Who’s there?” she asked sitting up in bed. No one answered. For an instant she forgot where she was. It came rushing back at her. Ireland. A figure stood by the window. Aine gasped then realized it was only the green dress she had hung there. She had a fleeting thought that she should put the dress on and dance out into the moonlit grass. The feeling was very strong. Almost without thinking about it she got out of bed and went over to the window. She fingered the fabric. It was so soft. Silky. Smooth. She slipped off her tee shirt and jeans and let them lay in a heap on the floor. She pulled the dress from the hanger and slipped it on over her head. It lay smooth and cool against her bare skin. She looked out the window and saw the glint of the sea reflected in the moonlight. Although the window was small, she could fit through it. She scrambled out, dropped quietly onto the dew-soaked grass and ran toward the water stopping when she got to the edge of the cliff. She had to get to the sea, she had to!
Frantically she looked around for a way to get down to the beach below. There! She spotted a set of makeshift steps, pieces of wood that she could use to climb down. Mindful of her dress, she went slowly, hand-over-hand until she dropped down onto the still-warm sand. She dug her toes into the warmth threw back her head and sang a strong clear note. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. What was she doing? But the urge to sing again washed over her. She ran at the edge of the sea, singing pure notes to it. A high “C”, then a high “E”. Each note echoed against the cliff face and came back to her with a different tone. She experimented with different notes, different tones, and different pitches. All of them sweet and high. Then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned off, she no longer wanted to sing. She wanted Granny Kate.
“Granny Kate,” she called to the night air, “Where are you?” Sadness enveloped her like a blanket. She fell to her knees and sang low, sad notes to her Granny Kate. Small dark shapes slid in and out of the water near her. The seals. Crooning and keening she rocked back and forth her hands over her face as she keened. Small waves washed against her knees and it was the sensation of the water that finally roused her. She blinked and then looked around as if she had just woken from sleep. She looked back at the water and saw a small seal face staring at her then it was gone. She got to her feet. Her dress was damp at the hem; sand covered her legs and feet. Wearily she walked back to the wooden steps wondering how she would climb back up. She was so tired. She attempted to climb but fell back to the sand after only a few minutes. Maybe she’d find another way in the morning. She yawned hugely. She gathered what little strength she had left and walked over to a small ledge. She curled herself up on it, shivering in the night air that blew off the sea and fell into an exhausted sleep.
The morning sun woke her. She stretched and yawned. At first she was confused. Why was she outside? Then she remembered the pull of the sea and the urge to sing. She got up, brushed her legs off and set off toward the wooden steps. She managed to climb them this time, although the going was hard. She didn’t want to climb back through the window so she tried the front door. It was unlocked. Opening it slowly so it wouldn’t creak, she cracked the door slightly and as soon as it was wide enough for her to wiggle through she slipped in. Quietly she shut the door and tiptoed back to her room. She hung the dress back up and put her tee shirt on. She had just managed to slip under the covers when a knock came at her door.
“Aine? You awake yet?” Claire asked opening the door so she could see in.
“Sure, come on in. I just woke up.” Aine glanced at the green dress that was dripping green water onto the floor. She hoped Claire wouldn’t notice.
Claire came in and sat on the end of the bed. “I just got in a few minutes ago.”
“I thought you were staying in Cork.”
“No, I decided to come home.” She ran her hands through her pink spikes.
“You don’t look like a lawyer,” Aine observed.
Claire laughed. “I know. That’s half the fun of it.”
“What kind of a lawyer are you going to be?”
“A tax lawyer, they make the most money,” Claire said. She pulled a box of black cigarettes out of the pocket of her skin-tight leather pants. “Mind if I smoke?” she asked.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Aine said. Claire nodded putting the cigarettes away. They both turned their heads when they heard the distant ringing of a phone.
“I better get that,” Claire said getting up. As soon as she left Aine took the opportunity to get dressed. She was just pulling on her jeans when there was another knock on the door.
“Come in,” Aine said.
Claire stood there with a strange expression on her face. “Your ma wants to talk to you.”
Aine raced to the phone. “Hello? Mom? Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“I miss you too Aine. I have some bad news though. Granny Kate died last night. I heard a funny noise and when I went to her room, she was gone. I’m sorry to have to tell you this way. Don’t feel like you have to come home for her. She wanted to be buried in Owel so I’m having her ashes shipped there. I’ll fly over with them in the next couple of days; I’ll let you know when. Let me speak to Ginny Ma and don’t be too sad. She had a full life and she loved you very much.” Aine felt a sob catch in her throat. Oh, Granny Kate. I will miss you.
Claire had gotten Ginny Ma up to tell her the news. Ginny Ma, looking sleepy, took the phone from Aine’s hand.
“Hello?” Aine looked at Claire who was quietly weeping in the corner. She went back to her room and sat stiffly on the bed her thoughts swirling madly around. She was determined not to cry in front of these strangers. She took a deep breath. She glanced at the dress now dried. She walked over to it and fingered the hem. She got the distinct impression Granny Kate was standing near her, she could smell the unmistakable smell of lavender.
“Granny Kate?” she asked the room. No one answered.
Feeling as if someone had punched her in the stomach Aine wandered back into the kitchen hoping someone had made tea. They had. She poured herself a cup laced it with sugar and milk and sat down at the small table near the window. Ginny Ma came in. She was dressed in a black dress that hung to the floor. She looked as if she had been crying. She poured herself a cup of tea too.
She sat down next to Aine. “I heard the banshee last night,” Ginny Ma said quietly.
“The banshee?” Aine echoed.
“You know the faerie that wails when someone close to you is about to die,” Claire said coming into the kitchen also pouring herself a cup of tea. She wandered over to the window and looked out for a moment then turned back to look at Ginny Ma. “You need to eat something Ginny Ma, let me make you some eggs.” She moved as if to go to the stove.
Ginny Ma shook her head. “No, I’m not hungry. Did you hear the banshee too?” she asked Claire.
Claire shook her head. “No, I wasn’t home. I was in Cork.” Both sets of eyes fell on Aine. “Did you hear the banshee?” Claire asked.
Aine squirmed in her seat. “No. I didn’t hear anything, excuse me.” She got up and poured the remainder of her tea out in the sink. She went back to the bedroom. She glanced at the dress that was now completely dry. The green puddle on the floor had dried and evaporated. There was no trace of green water on the floor. She stroked the silky material. It was soft again. There was no sign of water stains at all. She stared out the window at the sea. Lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the knock on the door until Claire opened it.
“Busy?” she asked.
“No, not really. Just thinking.”
“Still up for that picnic? I know a lovely spot a couple of kilometers from here that overlooks the sea. We could hike there and then have our lunch or an early breakfast if you like. You know, take our mind off Granny Kate.”
“What’s Ginny Ma going to do?”
“She wants me to drive her to town to visit with a couple of Granny Kate’s friends to tell them the news. We’ll pick her up later this afternoon.”
“Okay. Sure.” Aine’s heart, though still sore and grieving, lightened a little.
“Come on out to the kitchen and help me choose some things for the basket.”
It took them just a few minutes to decide what to bring. Hard-boiled eggs, homemade pickles, a wheel of cheese, homemade Irish Barmbrack—a type of bread with fruit in it—blackberry jam, also homemade; and butter. They filled two Thermos’ with tea then packed it all in a large picnic basket.
They decided to take the car since Claire had to drop Ginny Ma in town. The ride to Owel was silent, each one deep in thought.
“I’ll pick you up at four,” Claire said as Ginny Ma got out.
“All right,” she said. She stood outside the combination post office and grocery store where she was greeted by women who were speaking a different language.
“Is that Gaelic?” Aine asked.
“We call it Irish,” Claire said. “This part of Cork has a lot of Irish speaking people in it.”
Aine listened to the flow and ebb of the words as they washed over her. To her amazement she could understand them. They were telling Ginny Ma how sad they were that Granny Kate was gone. Ginny Ma nodded, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. “I heard the banshee wail so I knew it was someone close to me,” she said, also in Irish.
“The banshee is back now that your niece is here,” one of the women said looking at Aine. Aine wasn’t sure what she meant. Claire, who had been waiting for Ginny Ma to go inside, now pulled away from the curb. All three women stared after them as they drove away.
The spot was ideal. They spread a blanket out on the grass under a huge Oak tree. Aine spent some time moving acorns from under the blanket after she sat on several before taking out the food.
“The Oak tree is a symbol of security and strength,” Claire said as she unwrapped the cheese and broke off a hunk. Aine gazed upwards through the leaves and branches to the blue sky that peeked through. She could feel the power of the tree seep into her bones.
“It is a very old tree,” Aine said. “It was here when the ancient Celts lived here.”
Claire raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. She pulled an acorn apart leaving only the top and poured some tea in the cap then drank it. She smiled at Aine. “This is how the faeries drink; the top of the acorn is called a faerie cup.”
This time Aine laughed. “I’d get very thirsty if I only drank out of the top of an acorn,” she said.
“Me too, let’s have ours in non-faerie cups,” she said pouring them each a cup from the Thermos.
Aine thought this was as good a time as any to tell Claire about last night. She cleared her throat. “Claire?”
“What?” Claire was intently cracking the shell on a hard-boiled egg so she didn’t look up.
“I was up in the middle of the night last night.”
“Oh?” She still didn’t look up. Most of the eggs’ shell was now in pieces on the blanket. A tiny bug was attempting to carry a piece of it off the blanket. Claire salted the egg before looking up at Aine.
“I put on Granny Kate’s green dress, then went down to the edge of the sea and sang to the water.” She waited for Claire’s reaction.
Claire took a bite from her egg. “Go on,” she said her mouth full of egg as she stared at Aine.
“At first I was happy and sang out of joy, then a terrible sadness came over me and I felt so awful I had to moan out loud for Granny Kate. Afterwards I slept on a flat ledge of rock I was so tired. I climbed back up and into my room just before you got home. You heard what Ginny Ma said about the banshee.”
“Yeah, so?”
“The banshee she heard was me.”
Claire finished her egg then took another drink of her tea. “I know I saw you coming in just as I was pulling up. But next time you’re out all night go in the back, the door doesn’t squeak.”
“You used to go out at night and sing too?” Aine asked.
“No, I used to hang out with my friends all night though.”
“What does it mean?” Aine wondered aloud.
Claire shrugged, “Probably nothing.” But her eyes flicked nervously over Aine before glancing away.
Aine looked off towards the sea. It didn’t feel like nothing. The pull of the water was strong as strong as it had been last night except the urge to sing wasn’t there. Even now she felt like she should be near the water, dipping her toes in it. She stood up. “Let’s go wading,” she said suddenly standing and starting to walk away.
“We haven’t finished lunch,” Claire said but Aine was already half-way down the hill running to the water. The slope was gentler here, so it was an easy walk to the edge of the water. Aine took off her shoes and stood in the water letting it wash over her feet. She kicked at the tiny waves that lapped at her toes. Her thoughts began to swirl around again. Claire laughed taking off her shoes and socks and tossed them onto the sand. She waded into the water behind Aine and splashed her as she kicked the water up.
“Come on,” she called as she walked further into the water letting the water soak into her jeans. Aine shook her head not wanting to go in too deep. She started to cry. Claire waded back over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Aine sobbed her grief out letting her tears mingle with the salt water of the sea.
Claire turned her to look at the shore, through her tears she could see a handful of seals stretched out in the sun. “They feel your pain and cry tears for her too,” Claire said. Aine watched and it did seem as if the seals were crying too. How very odd, she thought. But she wasn’t afraid. It was strangely comforting.
The pull of Lough Gur led Aine to stand at its dry edge. It wasn’t completely dry; there was a small bit of water in the center of it. She stepped out into the lake bed half-expecting to see King Owel and his white steed. But there wasn’t anyone there. She walked to the middle of the lake bed and bent down. She bent down and tentatively put her fingers in the water. She brought them up to her mouth and tasted them. The water was sweet. She heard a tinkle of laughter coming from somewhere behind her. She turned quickly but no one was there.
Her mom flew into Cork airport. They had to wait while Granny Kate’s ashes were taken off the plane. Aine, Claire and Ginny Ma stood silent while they waited. At last the urn was unloaded and the three of them drove back to Owel.
“Tomorrow we’ll scatter her ashes,” Ginny Ma said in Irish to Claire.
Aine’s mom frowned at her. “Speak English Ginny Ma, Aine can’t understand Irish.”
Ginny Ma’s eyebrows went up in perfect imitation of Claire. “She knows no Irish?” she asked in disapproval.
“I didn’t think she needed to learn it,” her mom said dismissing Ginny Ma’s comment.
“I can understand it,” Aine said in Irish. Silence. “Well, I can,” she said defiantly.
“She’s self-taught,” Claire said from the driver’s seat. Ginny Ma sat in front and Aine and her mom were in the cramped back seat.
Her mom patted Aine’s knee. “I missed you Aine.”
“I missed you too,” Aine said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The ceremony was brief. Ginny Ma read one of Granny Kate’s favourite poems then Claire and Aine took the urn and scattered the ashes into the sea near the Oak tree where Claire and Aine had had their picnic.
“This was her favourite spot too,” Claire said. She turned away as soon as the ashes had been strewn. She didn’t want Aine to see her cry.
Aine’s mom, who had tears in her eyes, put her arm around Aine. “We can stay for a few days, but I have to be back at work on Monday.”
“I’m not going back,” Aine said quietly. “I’m staying to help Ginny Ma.”Ginny Ma grinned, so did Claire.
“What about school?” her mom asked.
“She can go to school here,” Claire said. “I did and look how I turned out.”
“Claire is leaving soon to go back to America, Ginny Ma will be all alone,” Aine said.
“So will I,” her mom said softly. Then, “We’ll talk about it later.”
Aine was insistent. She was staying in Ireland. This was where she felt at home. Her roots were here. She refused to budge.
“Won’t you miss me? Your friends?” her mom asked that evening. The two of them sat at the kitchen table sipping tea.
“Of course I will,” Aine said. Claire had gone out and Ginny Ma was resting in her bedroom. “But I need to stay here mom, I can’t explain why.”She stared at her mom who looked at her.