On Driving Blind
The drive that evening did not start out well. Lin was furious with her mother. The frosty pall that hung in the air around her was almost as cold as the chill that cut the evening air from the winds off the Atlantic. Had the windows been down in the car it would have made the chill seem more reasonable. Sean did his best to cut through the silent frost by chattering away about his day with Ian, pouring forth anecdotes and commentary about the history of the dolmen and the formation of the Burren. He was so concentrated on alleviating the gut-wrenching, brooding anger that pervaded the car that he did not even mind it when Ian kept correcting him. What was perhaps most telling in the entire course of the ride was that Fiona did not correct either of the boys even once when their spoken grammar was completely inaccurate. It did gradually sink into Lin's consciousness that her stony attitude was really grinding on her family. She wasn't precisely sure when she finally noticed how badly her behavior was affecting her loved ones, but she was fairly certain that it was somewhere near the twentieth time that her mother let Sean misuse an objective pronoun in a sentence. It was completely unlike her not to correct her grandsons. In fact, it was completely unlike her boys not to be more conscious of the way they spoke around their Nana. Her boys did not like to be corrected. And, more importantly, they did not like to be corrected by Nana. It was as if in being corrected by her they were somehow failing her, and that was what they wanted to avoid at all costs.
The feelings of fear and the resulting anger finally started to ease the fist that held so tightly in her stomach. She could feel the tension starting to ease off and she mentally berated herself for letting it have such a long hold on her. Life was far too short to waste it on misguided anger. "I am so glad you made it safely back to us, Mom," she said. "I am sorry that I took so long just to tell you that."
"I know," said Fiona. "Sean, I think you have abused the English language enough for one night, don't you?" said his Nana turning to smile and wink at him.
Sean smiled back at his Nana. "I didn't think you noticed there for awhile. I thought I was going to have to go through the whole day and maybe even start making things up."
Ian added wryly, "You made enough up as it is."
Lin was surprised to note that they had traveled almost the entire distance down the coast to their destination. They had been driving for quite sometime. Apparently, she really had let her fear and anger take her away from her family for far too long. She would have to be careful. If she could cover this much distance in a dazed state like that, how much danger did that present to her passengers? She was a good driver, but how much attention had she really been paying to the road if that much of it had gone by unseen?
They were nearing the Mullet peninsula and soon would be coming to the bed and breakfast where they would be spending the night. The following day would find them on the ferry that would take them over to North Inishkea, the destination that Sean had chosen. As they drove the rest of the way, Sean told them that the islands, both North and South, were abandoned in the 1930's after a tragic accident was suffered by the people of the Islands during a violent night storm that took a significant number of the fisherfolk out to sea never to return. He wanted to go to the North Island as it was the original home of the Naomhog (the Godstone) said to have properties that would keep the land on the island fertile and the clear waters full of game. Legend had it that the Naomhog was stolen and taken to the South Island, where it was eventually cast into the sea at the urging of one Father O'Reilly. The Father's attempt to purge the Islanders of their belief in the stone did not seem to work as there continued to be an annual festival to dress the place where the stone was formally housed for decades afterward. Sean was also fascinated by the fact that both islands were known to be active homes for piracy, with the deliberate wrecking and pillaging of boats a highly organized operation off the islands. Finally, and certainly not least, was the find that a French archaeologist had made on the North Island that showed signs of a seventh century monastery that produced a purple dye from shells of the dog whelk. Sean pointed out that it would take about 500 shells to get enough color to decorate one letter in the Book of Kells, so this particular dye was very important and highly prized. It was a major part of the history of the Irish people and was tied directly to "one of the most famous books ever produced by man," he finished with a triumphant gleam in his eye.
Fiona had to admit that she was rather proud of the boy for choosing the spot for so many reasons, the last of which certainly made her proud. The idea that he would choose this wild island because they made the ink that was used for major lettering in the Book of Kells, that was really something. She was very proud of Sean. She was very proud of Ian, too. She thought back to her experience at Poulnabrone. If Ian had not chosen that place, she would not be carrying the pebble in her sweater pocket. She would not have wanted to pass that moment up for anything, and she certainly could not imagine being separated from the pebble now that it belonged to her. Yes, she had to admit, there was something purely magical about her grandsons. They were simply lit from the inside. It was such a pleasure to be with them.
Lin pulled into the lot for the bed and breakfast. She asked if they were hungry enough for dinner or if they would just like her to pick something up from the local grocer to nibble on. In unison they agreed that snacks would be fine. She let them pull out the bags, and Fiona orchestrated the check-in while she went to get a few supplies for the evening.
Driving through the small town, she turned toward the docks that would lead them over to the island the next day. She parked and wandered out toward the sound of the sea. At first the soft crush of the waves on the rock was almost soothing, but as the wind picked up and the rush increased, she felt a vague sense of unease begin to settle around her. Tugging her jacket more closely around her neck, she turned and headed back to the car. She was letting the day's events get to her again. All that time not knowing where her mother was had been just frightening enough. She was letting it put her back up. There was nothing on an old abandoned slip of an island that should cause any trouble. After all, they all had some amount of common sense, even Sean if he opted to use it. It would be fine. The weather was supposed to be clear and they were only going to look at a few old ruins and the view of the coastline from the island's perspective. She stopped, shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and then started out again. It would be fine, she decided firmly.
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