Participles and Portents (22)

Dancing in the Light

Ian was all chatter the following morning over his full Irish breakfast. As he shoveled down brown bread, eggs, sausage and tomato, he managed to keep talking at full steam. Not even Sean was able to swing in a comment or two at the breakfast table. It was a good thing that the other patrons were not up and at the table or he might have driven their appetites away with all of his technical spiel about the way the Burren was formed. Lin wasn't sure, but she suspected that a discussion of millions of years of mud and sediment building up and forming into shale, flagstone and limestone was probably not the average traveler's morning table talk.

Ian finally slurped up his last bit of tea and pronounced himself ready to go. He jumped up from the table and raced off to get his pack, not even bothering to see if anyone else was following. Sean, Lin and Fiona all burst out laughing, then continued on with their breakfasts. About five minutes later Ian came back into the room looking both put-out and puzzled.

"What are you doing just sitting there?" he asked. "Aren't you ready to go?"

"We are working on it," replied his Nana, as she poured a bit more tea into her cup.

Ian made a grumbling noise and plopped down into his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his chin down as well, glowering up under his brows at the lot of them. He was clearly vexed at how long they were taking over breakfast. Sean was the first to break under his stare, gulping down his last bit of milk and pronouncing himself ready as well. Lin and Fiona gave in at that point too and cleaned up the table. They all retrieved their bags and stowed them in the car. Once everything was in its place and everyone was finally in the car, Ian's smile beamed again. They were finally off on his leg of the journey.

He was going to the "Bhoireann", a stony place in the Gaelic language, to the "hole of sorrows," as his brother had aptly translated Poulnabrone the day before. He could feel the excitement pumping through him. He fingered his camera and played with a pencil. He had lots of pictures and sketching to do today.

Sean was busy making plans for the following day in his head. He knew today was important to Ian, but he just could not seem to get excited about a pile of rocks that did not seem to have any real story attached to it. At least tomorrow they would be going someplace with real history. He wondered if anyone had any idea what Inishkea was about other than himself. He had to admit that it was more than likely his Nana would know something. She knew something about everything. And it was possible that Ian would because he might be interested in some of the things that were there, too. If his Mom took the time to think back to all of the old tales she used to read to them when they were little, she might make the connection, but he doubted she would. His Mom didn't do anything like that anymore. She never read anything anymore that did not have something to do with things that you could prove were real. He had to admit, he missed that. He missed the silly voices she made up when she read the old stories. He even missed the times they would make up their own stories on long drives. She had changed a lot these last few years. "People change," he thought, "but they are still the people you love no matter what."

As the car slowed down and turned, both boys looked out their windows; they had arrived at the visitors center. Lin parked and they climbed out, each taking their packs with them for the day. The boys waited while fees were paid and then asked if they could just go off on their own. It was clear that they did not want to start out with the tour, so Lin told them to be back by noon so they could meet up with that tour group. They boys were gone almost before she finished her last sentence. "Remember, you are your brother's keeper," she reminded them.

It ruffled his feathers, but Ian was determined not to have to chase around looking for Sean when it was time to meet back up with everyone. "You have to promise to stay with me today," he said.

Seeing the earnest look in his big brother's eyes, Sean agreed. He would do his best not to wander off. It just got so boring waiting for Ian to finish his sketching. He did not understand why he just didn't take a picture of it and keep moving. There were times when they really did not think anything alike at all. Still, he did like listening to most of Ian's explanations.

They headed off together, with Ian beginning a lengthy explanation of the Lower Carboniferous period.

Lin and Fiona wandered into the visitors' center and had another cup of tea. It was a good two hours before they would have to meet the boys and neither of them thought they would be that interested in wandering the Burren or viewing the Dolmen that they couldn't take the time out for a bit of warming. The bitter wind of the Atlantic made quite a bite. They talked for a bit and then lapsed into a companionable silence. Lin took out her notebook and began writing. She filled in some background on the time since they had gone to Coole, surprised that she had not written more. She read the odd little poem she had written. It occurred to her to strike it, but she had never taken anything out of the book before, so she left it. It was a place for her thoughts, odd as they might be. Fiona excused herself from the table; it was clear that Lin was involved. She was going to have a turn around the site and would be back before the boys most likely.

Fiona wrapped her scarf around her head and pulled up her hood. She slid on her gloves and silently said a quick prayer of thanks that she had remembered her long underwear for this day's journey. She set out across the rocky path toward the Dolmen. The wind whipping around her made a kind of hollow silence with its constant presence. The clear blue of the sky was almost as blinding as blizzard snow reflecting in the light it was so crystal pure. As she neared the portal tomb, she could feel the pulse of the place. This was definitely a place of long ritual. Yet something about it felt eerily vacant, vacated and lost. It felt hollow and sad. She walked round the portal. She could feel a growing numbness and wondered if it came from the biting cold, or the biting sorrow of this place. As she neared the completion of the first circuit, she felt a sort of change in the atmosphere. She felt a bit of an inner warming as if somehow the tomb was becoming more at peace with her presence or she at peace with being there. It was hard to describe. It was still a hauntingly vacuous space, but one that held an oddly serene presence too. She made another circuit and she felt the thrumming vibration she had sensed begin to increase its pace. The sky seemed to get brighter as well, if that were even possible. The wind whipped at her sharply and her hood fell back; she grabbed for it and pulled it into place. Caught up in the feel, she did not even note whether or not there were any other visitors around her. She made two more circuits around the portal tomb, and each time the intensity of the feeling she had seemed to increase. On the fifth circuit, the wind took her hood firmly in its grasp and literally threw it off her head, wrenched off her scarf and sent it directly between the stones that held the capstone aloft.

Without hesitation or thought, Fiona followed her scarf under the pillars that held up the capstone. Just as she caught the tail end of the scarf and turned on her heel to retreat, the world slipped away from her. The bright blue sky slipped into the deep indigo of a perfect starry night. The wind and the biting cold fell away and she found herself instantly warmed and caressed by the gentlest of breezes. It felt almost like a lover's breath on her neck and shoulders. She could no longer see any rock at all. In fact, there was nothing to distinguish ground from sky so that it seemed she was standing on the sky. She was transfixed and suspended there. She could hear the faintest of melodies echoing. She closed her eyes.

Opening them, she found herself still in that wondrous starry night. She shed her coat and stepped forward, the deep ink taking her weight with ease. The melody grew around her. She closed her eyes and let herself lean into the sound. She moved just a bit, swaying with its softness. A hand slipped into hers. She did not open her eyes. It was a hand she would have known anywhere. The smooth tips and rough calluses, overly large palms that made her hand seem so fragile in its strength. "Hello," she whispered. An arm slid around her and pulled her closer. The music swelled around them. She recognized the song then, one of his favorites, and thus it had become one of hers. They danced together flawlessly, moving like liquid silk over the indigo floor. She ran her hands over his back and through his hair, not once daring to look. As the song slowed and began to come to its inevitable end, he whispered, "Thank you for loving me." Then she felt him kiss her hair, her eyes, her cheek and finally, softly, her lips. She dared to open her eyes just a fraction, just enough to look into his, "That part is easy," she said, and kissed him back. He smiled and squeezed her hand, leaving a very small, almost star-shaped pebble in her palm. "Take care of my girl." With one last kiss and another to her hand he was gone.

The warm swirling breath left to embrace her felt almost cold with his absence. She turned in the inky sky. The music had left her too. She felt oddly serene and yet completely empty all at the same time. She tucked the pebble inside her sweater pocket and buttoned it up. Then she picked up her coat and scarf and calmly put them back on. As she fastened her hood, the wind began to pick up. She found herself caught in what felt like a growing maelstrom, and then she was thrown from the shelter of the realm she had entered. Expelled out onto the rocks, where she landed with no grace at all on the hard shale just beyond signs she had somehow not seen earlier that were to keep tourists from entering the Dolmen itself. Several other visitors hurried over to ask if she was okay and to help her up.

'Tricky footing around here," said a strange man.

"Yes, indeed," replied Fiona with a wry smile.

She looked at the sky.  It was not that beautiful clear blue anymore, it was purple and pink and orange. She knew then that she had definitely missed the noon tour. Her daughter was going to be furious with her and she doubted that her explanation was going to make sense to anyone. It didn't make sense to her. Yet she felt lighter in a way, as if something had been lifted from her or given to her that made her spirit easier to carry inside her. She stood looking at the "Hole of Sorrows" and thought, "Perhaps they have this wrong, perhaps you should be called the 'Point of Joy.'" She gave a little silent prayer of thanks for the moment she had just had and turned to leave, then turned back. She did not know if it made any sense, but she wanted to leave something there, something of hers. She looked through her pack and found nothing that was worth the leaving. Then she reached up and took out one earring. It was a simple Trinity design, but it seemed fitting. She slipped around the sign and ran toward the opening; she could hear some yelling behind her. She whispered to herself, "I love you," then added, "Thank you," and threw the earring through the pillars under the capstone. Then she turned and ran back, "Just catching my scarf," she said. Before the man could point out that she had the scarf on, she took off through the crowd. As she had done no damage, she assumed he would not follow her, and she was right.

When she got to the visitors' center, her daughter was toe to toe with one of their security people. It was obvious that she was trying to get them to start a search. "Lin," said Fiona, "I'm here."

Lin turned with obvious shock. "We have looked everywhere for you. Where have you been?"

Fiona tried a smile, "You would never believe me if I tried to explain. Let's just say I've had a bit of a Sean moment and leave it at that, okay?"

Sean looked visibly put out at his Nana's words. He was, however, very relieved she was back. He gave her a hug. "I have no idea what you mean by that, but I am glad you are here. Can we get something to eat now?"