Darts and Darkness
They sat in silence for quite sometime, the crimson silk spread on the grass looking remarkable, both lovely as a promised embrace and as frightening as a welling gash upon the rich green blades of grass. It was hard to take their eyes from it, doubly hard to speak. No one made a move to touch it so strong was its power over the trio. Finally, with trembling hands, Lin let her fingertips skim across the plush grass carpet to catch the edge of silk and draw it to her. She looked up, catching Roary's eye, and she knew in that instant that her experience had been his as well. Her hand folded into the silk and without taking her eyes from his she rolled it. Holding it in her palms, she broke the intimate contact and turned to Fiona, holding it out to her. Fiona held up a hand and indicated with a gesture that Lin should add the silk to her own pack. She placed it carefully in an inner pocket where it would be separate from everything else that she carried. Then she stood. It was time to go. It was past time to ease her way from this place of loss and gain, of fears and things she did not want to name.
They made their way to the car; all the while the silence held. It gripped them in a hold too tight to break. The unexpexted sound of Clannad filling the car jolted them all when Roary turned the engine over. Not one of them could remember having set the I-Pod up. The music swelled around them and broke the heavy grip of the mound. "Is anyone else hungry?" inquired Fiona, "I, for one, am starving."
They drove to the nearest village and found a small pub. Clutching her pack which now contained two of the three silks they so desperately needed, Lin followed Fiona and Roary into the din and clamor of the busy place. It was full of people. A futbol game was being televised. One long table along the thin side of the bar was full of what appeared to be a vacationing family. A small boy, perhaps nine years of age, sat at the bar jawing with the barkeep and an older man who seemed to barely be keeping his balance on the stool. At first glance the boy appeared to be an American, but the smooth roll of his accent as he spoke and his ability to understand the sot's heavy Dubllin dialect marked him as a local. They watched in a bit of a stupor as the boy seemed to entertain the two men with his take on the game. When the lad came by, they ordered their meals, fish and chips with pints and shots all the way round, continuing to focus on the scene at the bar. When Fiona tilted the shot glass back and coughed over the fiery liquid as the Dew slid down her throat, Lin's shock finally registered.
"I can't believe you talked her into a shot and a pint! She doesn't drink anything but wine and little enough of that usually."
"Twasn't me, I simply put up me order and then it was a matter of ye both simply agreeing to the same."
"I guess we weren't paying much attention."
"Speak for yourself," breathed Fiona now that she had her breath back. "I just decided to try something new, though I can't see why you drink that stuff. It is truly vile." She picked up the Guinness and took a sip, setting it down with her face in a twist. "How do you drink this?" She shoved the glass toward Roary. "If you don't mind that I've tasted it, it's all yours."
"I'll order ye a bit o' wine," smiled Roary.
Lin glanced over and noticed the boy playing darts with the old man. He seemed good for someone so young, or perhaps he seemed good because the old man was so wide of his mark. Her jaw fell a bit when the large family rose and the old man gave the boy a hug and a flag from one of his darts before the boy joined them. The family were clearly tourists and she had thought the boy a local. As they passed her, the boy was speaking to his mother, his accent almost totally changed, replaced by a faint taint of the Midwest. She was floored, as were Fiona and Roary. They all started laughing at the same time, the pent-up tension from the day releasing in a flood of giggles. It felt good to laugh and find themselves comfortable with each other again.
Dinnner arrived and they talked about nothing in particular, just enjoying the night and the feeling of release. They had a second round of drinks with Fiona declaring she would end up driving at this rate. Roary assured her that he was far from being in his cups and finished her Guinness before starting on his last. When they had paid the tab and left, they found the night had settled in. The dark was broken only by the full moon which was ringed by an aureole of color. The amber, crimson and indigo whirls that spun out from its glowing orb were entrancing. They stared at the moon for a few moments, each to their own thoughts, before setting off in the car to find their beds for the night.
In the morning they would need to decide where they would go next, but for now it was enough to have finally accomplished part of their bizarre quest. They parted ways in the foyer. Fiona's last questioning gaze made it clear that she had hoped Roary would explain the day's events but she would not press him yet. Roary let himself into his room and sank slowly to the bed, head held in his hands. What was he going to do? He simply did not know. He fingered the paper through his jacket. Twas probably best if he just did nothing at all, things would be as they were meant to be. He stood and prepared for bed, then turned out the light. He slipped between the cold sheets with a shiver and said a silent prayer for a dreamless sleep in the darkness.
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