Past and Presents
Fiona was happy to have the day to herself. She felt rough about the edges and needed some time alone. The wind was just as rough as it had been the last time she had visited. She tightened the twist of her scarf around her head and neck and began the stroll through the grounds. She kept her gaze purposefully fastened upon the rocky outcroppings and away from the other people that milled along. There were not that many visitors today, she noted. A good thing for her, probably not so good for Irish Tourism overall. She walked slowly, taking her time, letting her mind wander. The images flickered between laughing visages of the boys, to lingering hands entwined, to the gaping maw of the sea and back to the somewhat desolate view in front of her. How anything this truly lovely could seem so desolate she wasn't really sure, but that was how it appeared to her at this moment, in this time. She clutched her little pebble, rubbing it with her fingers as if somehow it would bring some light into the day. As she neared the "main attraction," she noticed that most of the people seemed to be drifting away. That was fine with her.
It must be nearing lunch time; in fact, she did feel a bit hungry herself. Perhaps she would just make a quick circuit or two and then find a place to eat. Lin and Roary would take some time getting back, but she could certainly get a ride into Doolin if necessary to occupy her time. She wandered up to the main entrance chamber, staying well back from the rope that kept unwanted visitors out. Peering into the darkness she wondered if she really had ever stepped beyond that portal, but she knew she had. If nothing else, that much she knew. She made her way slowly round the ancient tomb. The wind was a bit less fierce, almost playful as she made her way around. She found herself feeling a bit less troubled, not lighthearted by any means, just somehow less entrenched in the ache. As she closed on the third circuit she almost fell over an old man who seemed to just be sitting there in front of the portal. "Excuse me." she breathed. "I did not mean to stumble over you. I guess I was not watching where I was going."
"Seems more like ye' were lookin fer' where ye' ha' been and where ye are going to be all at the same time. Now that's enough to make a head spin no matter who ye' be, I be thinkin," said the man as he rose to his feet.
His comments would have startled her had his coutenance not been more startling. He looked almost exactly like someone from an old movie that Lin used to watch incessantly as a child. "Darby, Darby O'Gill," she thought. "I think that's the name of the man from the movie, maybe even part of the title."
"What ever are ye' lookin' at, lass?"
"Oh, forgive me again. I was just thinking that you reminded me of someone," Fiona mumbled hastily.
"People are always tellin' me that," said the man. "Now, what I am wonderin' is why a fine woman such as yerself would be out and about on such a day with no escort?"
Flustered, Fiona answered, "I am not really on my own. My daughter and our, well, our traveling companion went over to the Isle and I elected to stay here."
"Well, I can see ye' have a mind o' yer own. But I am thinkin' ye' haven't found what ye' were lookin' fer'. Have ye'?"
"Do I know you?" queried Fiona, trying to politely but firmly let the man know he was getting a bit too personal.
"No, not directly. But I have had the pleasure of meeting some of your kin. Great boyo, that Ian. Big dreams and all, mite too set on being heroic, if ye' ask me. But I don't suppose ye' did. As I was mentionin' I don't think ye' quite found what ye' were lookin for here. Gifts like that, well, they seldom get given twice, ye' know. It won't matter who you've got a link to, lass. But you might find another way in. A closer way. Seems to me there's a love of hounds and the like in your family. Ye' just might want to think on yer' own history a bit, that's all I have to say." He stuck a pipe that seemed to come from nowhere in his mouth and looked up at Fiona expectantly.
Her thoughts raced. "This is completely and totally, utterly absurd. When could this man have met Ian? And what would ever make him think Ian wanted to be a hero. Sure Ian loved heroic legends, but to be a hero?" Fiona looked back up. The little man was walking away. "Please don't go yet," she whispered.
The man turned, "I can't help ye' anymore than I have. It's not here. He's not here either. But you are, and you brought your past and your family's past with you. Try to let that guide you a bit, that and your little stone should do the trick." With that he started to walk away again. Then he turned, "Ah, and Fiona?"
"Yes?" she looked up, startled that he knew her name. "It's all real when you let it be." He took a few more steps and then was simply gone.
She stood there for a long time; she did not really notice the time passing until a garda came to ask her to leave.
She made her way back down the path, still filled with a total sense of disquiet. "What did he mean?" she kept asking herself. As she made her way past the final gates that closed behind her, she felt a buzz in her pocket. She pulled out her phone. "Great," she thought. "A text message. When would Lin learn that she simply did not like text messages. Phones were not meant to be typed on, they were for talking." She read the message and grew tense. She wasn't sure, but she had a good idea that the area they were at on the Isle was probably not surrounded by inns and they would have made the boat if something were not wrong. She certainly hoped they weren't hurt. It didn't make sense that they would choose to stay there unless they had found something, and if they had, they would have called. She noticed that the last of the garda was leaving the lot. She ran then to catch him. She was going to need that ride into Doolin after all.
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