Cailín (Lass) (Anam Céile Chronicles) (15 page)

Envisaging
what it would be like to know the feel of his form,
all
of him,
activated a fresh desire in me propelling me hands to wander across me own
body.  What first began as an exploration of Donovan’s body in me mind,
eventually came to rest upon the newfound veiled gem where me fingers thus
lingered until they brought the euphoria which carried me ever so high and away
before gently setting me adrift in slumber at last.

S
everal
weeks passed and I be most relieved, yet still in shocking disbelief, that me
father had not come to retrieve me.  Deirdre and Fergus had assured me that I
would be safe here.  Not ever would he be allowed to set foot in their home,
under any circumstances, and had given strict word to all those employed at the
manor.  A simulated sense of calm attempted to spread over me. 

Still,
trust it, I did not.

Nevertheless,
quite easily I found meself growing accustomed to me new life there;
particularly in setting aside the perpetual need to be vigilant, expecting the
typical unjustified insults and blows.  I did, however, miss Morrissey and the
other animals I used to occupy me days tending to. 

Moreover,
I missed me mama.  I wondered how me impetuous decision had affected her.  Yet,
most certain I be she did sympathize.  I could not believe she would have
wished me be wed to that old goat!  I know she would wish me every happiness,
and always she did see how joyful Donovan indeed made me!

Sure I
be that someday soon I would yet again see those I held near to me heart.

I had
the sense that somehow Donovan blamed himself fer the whole situation.  What he
fell short of grasping, be that he saved me; fer lived without him after all
those years I had waited, I could not.  Never could I have been content being
forced to be wed to someone else—
anyone
else— least of all Aengus!

T
hat
next month in the early fall of October, Donovan requested me accompany him to
the
Árainn
Islands.  Elated I be, in part because most unquestionably,
never would father have allowed me such an excursion, and with me love, no
less!

Deirdre
and Fergus happily went along, fretful to make sure I did not provoke any more
trouble fer meself, being an unmarried woman, alone with a male escort fer
several days.

What
the ordeal ‘twas to voyage there from the mainland!  We first drove by carriage
to Galway Bay to board the ferryboat fer the several hour trip to the islands. 
Donovan pointed in the direction of the three small off-shore islands, clearly
visible from the mainland, yet tantalizingly out of reach. 

Never
before had I been on a ferry, and found it incredibly exhilarating being atop
the water!  ‘Twas a balmy day, yet even one such as that can be too windy out
on the rough waters of the open Atlantic sea!
 

A
remote place of dramatic scenery and breathtaking beauty, the Islands seemed to
defy their size with their cliffs, medieval castles, prehistoric stone forts,
early Christian ruins and sandy beaches.  A certain mystical quality they have which
draws one back to the past and a more simple way of life.  A rich folklore there
exists among the islanders, a serious looking and yet friendly people, they
would proudly recount.  One would not hear a word of English spoken there nor
any hint of their influences.

The
landscape of all three islands, much as the
Boireann
was wild and wind
swept, rugged and spectacular— steep, rugged cliffs rising from a mean sea, a
uniquely blanketed rock surface glazed with man-made rock walls that meander
and cross all directions as far as one could see.  During the late season,
severe gales customarily sweep the islands. 

A stark
beauty there be about these islands and the simple lives of its peoples. 
Though precious little of the land is productive, they make a precarious living
from fishing and farming.  They learnt how to live off the sea shore because
times were hard and the food scarce. 

The
scoured bedrock, slight in the way of soil fer farming, thus ingeniously ‘twas
formed by the islanders— the outcome of centuries of efforts in layering
seaweed with sand.
 
These resourceful sea-faring
people made use of Curraghs, boats covered in cow-hides, to brave the wild
waters fishing.

Arrived
we did in
Inis Mhór
, the largest of the three islands, to the most
uncharacteristic sunshine and proceeded to be subjected to every version of bad
weather in the days thereafter, serving only to enhance its incontestable
charm.  It be a fascinating place of a geological nature with its roughened
peninsula edges and wild stretches of uninhabitable coastline where over the
eons deep fissures have been carved by the pounding waves of the Atlantic
Ocean. 

One
such fascination be the worm hole, a large natural square hole in the ground
beside the sea, and the puffing holes where inland holes in the ground, sprout
random fountains of water high into the air on a turbulent day.

Whilst
on
Inis Mhór
we visited
Dún Aonghasa
, an Iron Age fort situated upon
the edge of a cliff at a height of some hundred metres overlooking the
Atlantic.  It consists of a series of concentric four metre thick circular
walls of stone.  Fer the past seventeen centuries, angry waves have battered
away at its black foundation, three hundred feet straight down.  Even with
nothing more to guard, still it stands strong, overlooking the sea from its
perch upon the cliff-edge.

There,
we also observed these enormous mounds.  When asked what they be, a man native
to the islands told us they were thought to be built by giants in accordance
with the rising sun— as entrances to the magical Otherworld. 

How
captivating!  Wonder what would it be like to cross through to the Otherworld? 
Perhaps, then someone may tell me where ‘tis I truly belong! 

A
couple of days into our stay, we took a smallish boat over to
Inis Meadhóin
. 
This centre island offers a picturesque contrasting landscape of rolling,
verdant hills surrounded by beautiful marine life and clear waters. 

‘Twas
from there first I set me eyes upon
Aillte an Mothair
.  

We ambled
along the coast, with the sea at our right, and the ridge of the island with
its long, sloping plains rushing down to meet the sea along our left. 
Brilliant white heads of lacy flowers swayed breezily in the sunshine that
struck the water, blue-grey butterflies flitting about them. 

Off in
the distance, there be peculiar shadows of limestone outcroppings.  Somewhat
further over from that I saw them.  Astonished I be I had not noticed them
until that very moment, as now I held a crystal clear view of them.

Me face
became glassy as I cried out, “Oh!”

The
three of them stopped short and looked to me, probably expecting to see me
falling into the sea or some other such mishap!  They just stared at me, as I
stood there motionless with me eyes open broadly and me mouth gaping.

“In
God’s name, Aislinn, what is it?!” prodded Deirdre, concern in her voice.

Her
words shaking me loose from me hypnotism, I held me arm out as long as it would
reach, and whispered, “There!  You see it?”

They
all stood there looking out in the same direction as I pointed, yet not one of
them did see them.

“Aislinn,
just what it be?” Donovan enquired mildly.  However, I could hear the
frustration tainting his tone.

“Far
out there, do you not see them?”  Now I was beginning to feel a bit frustrated
meself!  “Titanic.  Cliffs!”  I did not fathom how ‘twas they could
not
see them!

They peered
harder then and finally Deirdre, realizing what ‘twas I must be observing in
the direction of the mainland remarked, “Oh!  Those would be
Aillte an
Mothair
!”

“
Aillte
an Mothair,
” I repeated the words ponderously through me trance.

The
lads both chimed in then, in recognition of the name, at least.  Still not
certain I be whether they ever actually saw them!

“Indeed,
Aislinn!  Have you not heard of them, then?” Deirdre asked, quite shocked.

When I
shook me head, she pronounced, “That is a disgrace.  After all, very near to
your parents’ home they are.  Cannot imagine you never embarking to see them!” 
She just stood there, shaking her head in disbelief.

Most
enthralled I be! 

There
they were, rising magnificently against the breezy cool morning sky.  A
spectacular natural wonder— the series of dark limestone heads, in a rigid
vertical formation majestically ascending hundreds of metres from the sea. 

As I
stood their absorbed in me awe, I aspired to visit them someday, and rather
soon, I did wish!

I
perceived Donovan gazing at me.  I glanced over to him and smiled naturally. 
He returned a genuine smile, and I comprehended truly pleased he be to observe
me so joyful.

That
day, the four of us toured the island upon the backs of sturdy native ponies. 
Wonderfully quiet, flecked ‘twas with little fishing villages that have successfully
withstood the elements fer centuries.  Pace of life there be slow and gentle,
timeless: the way it ought to be.  A place you could spend forever merely
immersing yerself within its simplicity. 

Sincerely
hoped I did that even when the West coast of Ireland inescapably wore away its
refuge, these unique islands and its peoples would be spared the effects of the
British subjugation.

That
evening after we all did eat, I told Deirdre that Donovan and I would be taking
a walk on our own.  She smirked at me.  “Very well, then.  A proper lass you be
now, Aislinn!” she warned playfully with an arch of her brow.

I
simply frowned at her.  “Indeed!  You be the fine one to talk, Missy!” I
retorted. 

She
quickly glanced about nervously to be sure Fergus not be within earshot before
scolding me.  “You promised you would keep your lips tight on that!”

“Not to
worry, cousin, I would not
dare
breathe a word.  I be knowing he not be
near.” I told her, hoping to ease her misgivings.

“Indeed. 
Well, you have a lovely evening then.  See you back at
our
room?” 

I
caught the undertone of her light question.  “Naturally.” I assured her with a
smile.

Seemingly
satisfied, she smiled back.  I sauntered over to meet Donovan at the front of
the boarding house.

Greeting
me with his lovely modest smile, he clutched me hand as we walked off the
property into the open land.  I smiled back at him, embarrassed by the
customary frolicking of me heart at his mere touch.  

It all began
to feel entirely surreal, Donovan and I walking hand in hand together in this
strangely beautiful place.  I reminisced back on that fateful dream— then what
seemed a lifetime ago— the years I waited all too impatiently fer him to notice
me, to share me love. 

Suddenly,
he stopped and spun me toward him so quickly I did startle.  And from his eyes
sprung a well of love as fer the first time he uttered the words, “Aislinn, I lo
. . .”