Celtic Sister (27 page)

“You can have your castles,” Sam said as he maneuvered into a pullout by the side of the road. “I’ll take the beach at the end of the bay.”

Amy examined the map. “It’s actually a river. It comes down from the north and joins the sea.”

“Put the map down. Right here, it’s a beach. That’s good enough for me.”

“Ooh, look. According to the map, there’s a holy well just up ahead.”

Sam groaned. “Put. Down. The map. I’m going to the beach.”

“Of course,” Amy said, suddenly aware of her surroundings.

She balanced herself carefully as she stepped among the seaweed-covered rocks until they reached a patch of sand and looked downriver. To their left and right, green fields and houses bordered a long strip of grayish-brown sand and the remnants of the river it would become at high tide. Sam stopped, put his hands on his hips, and took a deep breath.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

“It’s breathtaking. I’ve never seen any place like this.”

They dawdled on the beach for a spell, finding seashells and peering into puddles, before climbing back into the car. Amy wasted no time setting the agenda.

“On this side of Timoleague, there is a holy well,” she said. “And on the other side some standing stones.”

“What about a sitting stone?”

Amy punched him lightly on the arm.

“What? I want to see a sitting stone. In fact, a sitting stone on another beach would be perfect.”

“Humor me.”

He grinned. “I’m just kidding. I’m dying to know just what makes a standing stone so worthy of note on a map.”

“That’s more like it.”

They approached Timoleague, driving along the bay as large white houses and a field of cows drifted by on their right.

“This road is going to make a horseshoe curve up there,” Amy said. “Before it turns, take a right onto a side road. Then maybe a left after that.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Right then left. Stop.”

Sam brought the car to a rest in a small nook. He was still blocking the road. “I don’t see anything.”

“But it’s supposed to be on this side of the river where all these roads intersect.”

“Maybe it’s in that house,” Sam suggested. He looked in the rearview mirror to make sure he wasn’t holding anyone up.

“No. That house is from the seventies at the earliest.”

Sam pointed across the road. Tall trees and bushes lined the street. “In those trees?” he proposed. “If the map is correct, the river is right there. This holy well isn’t necessarily a well-groomed site like Saint Patrick’s Well. I mean, there are dozens of wells on this small map alone. They can’t all be frequented tourist spots.”

“Good point. Let’s look.”

“I’ll stay near the car in case someone needs me to move.”

Amy rushed to the trees and stood on her toes. The bushes were more like brambles. She couldn’t walk through them, but she got as close as she could.

“You’re right, Sam, it’s here. There’s like a small hut made of stone.” She turned her head. “Not a hut exactly. More like the walls of a hut.”

He walked up behind her. “I see it. That’s cool.”

“But we can’t get to it from here. Unless you want to climb through all this stuff.”

“Doesn’t look pleasant. And I don’t want to leave the car just sitting here. Come on. Let’s go see your standing stones.”

They continued along the bay at a leisurely pace. The clouds were a little higher now, but the sun had not quite broken through. Sam followed the white signs to Timoleague, and they passed a huge abbey with a graveyard. Amy rattled off directions to the standing stones.

“It’s getting pretty rural,” Sam noted.

“Yeah. Sorry. This is a little further out of the way than I thought. But it has to be just ahead. On the left.”

“There,” Sam shouted. Nestled on the edge of a vibrantly green field, four tall stones – two of them five feet or more – stood in two groups.

Sam stopped the car.

“Can’t believe we don’t have a camera,” Amy said. “I mean, look at this. That’s someone’s property. I don’t want to go gallivanting through the field, but it’s so cool that the rocks just sit there. No one tried to take them down.”

“How could they? That one probably weighs a ton.”

“I know, but if someone really wanted to build there, they might take it down.”

“Or build around it.”

Amy nodded. “They’d probably build around it.”

“Who wouldn’t want a standing stone in their backyard?”

Amy tilted her head, trying to discern the nature of his remark. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No. Seriously. I’d love to have a chunk of history in my backyard. It would make for great party conversation.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

He seemed exasperated. “No. Seriously. I think it’s really, really cool.”

She looked at her feet and then back at him. “Thank you. And thank you for stopping.”

“It’s adventurous.” They stood together for a minute. Sam reached for Amy’s hand.

Eventually he said, “You ready to go? I’m getting hungry.”

“Me too. This Clonakilty is less than ten miles from here. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

The buildings of Clonakilty lounged at the end of a small inlet. Amy loved the pastels mixed with bright yellows. They found a little restaurant that served pizza and kebabs, and they enjoyed a tasty meal.

They were back on the road by just a little after two. Sam decided it made more sense to take the highway for this stretch, and Amy slid back into map-scouring mode the moment she buckled her seatbelt.

“There’s something on here called a ful… how do you pronounce this? Full-at, Full-ahk maybe. Then Fee-add.”

“Spell it.”

“F-U-L-A-C-H-T. Second word F-I-A-D-H.”

Sam whistled. “Okay, I’ll go with full-ahk fee-add. Works for me.”

Amy laughed.

“How far out of the way?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh, a bit. Let’s go to the stone circle first. The
fulacht fiadh
spots are all over the map. We’ll have plenty of opportunities.”

“Sounds good.”

Amy put the map aside and enjoyed the scenery for a spell. After about fifteen minutes, they were passing through Rosscarbery, and Amy directed Sam onto a rural road where he followed the signs.

Up ahead they saw a small parking lot. As Sam got closer, Amy could read the brown sign that said
Drombeg Stone Circle.
One other car was in the lot and a path led into the bushes. They parked, got out of the vehicle, and stretched. Only wisps of clouds remained, drifting slowly miles above their heads, allowing the sun to warm Amy’s skin. The temperature may have been around seventy degrees, the coziest she had felt all day.

Sam reached for her hand. “Shall we, my dear?” he said gallantly.

As Sam and Amy ambled down the path, three middle-aged women were returning to the parking lot. They nodded and smiled politely.

“Lovely day,” one of the women said.

“It certainly is,” Amy replied, smiling.

They reached the end of the path and paused in awe. The space opened up to reveal a view of vast stretches of farmland divided by stone walls and bulky hedges. In the distance, the sea sparkled and disappeared into the blue-white sky. Before them, an assortment of standing stones were arranged in a circle about thirty feet in diameter. Seventeen in total, several of the stones were worn down to about a foot high, but the others were in the neighborhood of five and a half feet tall, with the exception of a large waist-high altar on the far side of the circle.

They entered the circle near the tallest stone and turned around from the vantage point of the center.

“This is breathtaking,” Amy said. She walked up to one rock and placed her hand flat against its surface.

“A mini-Stonehenge with a view.”

“But the rocks aren’t stacked.” Amy hoisted herself up on the altar.

“You sure you want to be sitting there? The gods may still need appeasing.”

Amy scowled playfully.

Sam held up his hands. “I’m just saying. If I had to choose between Emma and you, well—?”

She jumped down from the altar and tried to tackle Sam.

He ducked and ran out of the circle.

Amy noticed another structure about a hundred feet away. This one was low to the ground. She gave up chasing Sam, and dashed toward the new item of interest. A snail-shaped coil of boulders surrounded a bath-sized, rectangular pool of water. To the left a hole in the stone wall created a cave which would be just big enough to crawl into, albeit a tight squeeze for an adult.

Sam stopped at a sign that explained the site.

“Here’s a
fulacht fiadh
,” he said. He read the sign aloud. “
The
fulacht fiadh
consists of a trough with an adjoining hearth and well, which are all enclosed by a low stone bank with an entrance to the south. Water in the trough was boiled by rolling stones, heated by fire in the hearth, into the water.
”

Amy knelt down and peered into the hearth.

Sam continued reading. “
Experiments conducted during the excavation of the site in 1957 showed that seventy gallons of cold water could be brought to the boil in eighteen minutes. Meat was then cooked in the water which remained sufficiently hot for almost three hours.
”

“I can picture it,” Amy said. “Very interesting.”

“Yeah.”

They hung around the property for half an hour with no other visitors in sight. Amy spent most of her time examining the architectural finds, while Sam looked out wistfully toward the sea.

“Thank you for insisting we get out and see something,” he said. “I could have easily stayed in our room brooding all day.”

“It’s been magical, hasn’t it?”

“Unlike anything I’ve done before.”

Afterward, they decided to go just a little farther southeast and visit Glandore, a town on the harbor. A restaurant had placed small white tables and folding chairs along an edge overlooking the harbor. A dozen sailboats floated, moored in the bay. Now that the sun was shining, the water sparkled – a cross between teal and turquoise.

Sam confirmed with the waiter that it was okay to sit and have tea and dessert. It looked as if the restaurant was just about to close between lunch and dinner, but many patrons lingered to enjoy the beautiful day. Sam and Amy settled in, turning their chairs slightly toward the bay. Amy took a deep breath and sighed as if she were in heaven.

“Even the water is green here,” she observed.

Sam pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Do you have a pen?”

Amy reached into her bottomless purse and retrieved the coveted item.

“Let’s see.” Sam examined his list. “Charles Fort. Check. Drombeg Stone Circle. Check. Miscellaneous standing stones and holy well. Check. We can also check off
fulacht fiadh
. We got a twofer back at the stone circle.”

“Castle. Sorta check.”

“So the only thing we haven’t done is find my sister. The real purpose of our visit.”

A seagull landed nearby. It eyed the fish on the plate of another customer. Amy swished her hand and it flew away. Then she returned her attention to Sam.

“Yes, but we found Saint Patrick’s Well. We found the silver pillbox and the silver cross. We know the name of the man who made the cross.”

“You’re right. We’ve actually made a lot of progress. But I’m anxious to meet this Ed Egan. Do you think Emma stayed with the Egans?”

Amy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“That would certainly make this easier.”

“Perhaps she married the jeweler’s son. She’s Emma Egan now.”

“I hope not.”

“Why?”

“My sister can’t be married. In my mind, she’s still a teenager.”

“Sam… She has a teenage child by now.”

Sam’s face paled. “I know, but I can’t get my head around it.”

“You will soon enough.” She smiled and took his hand.

***

Amy set the map aside during the hour drive back to Kinsale.

“No more standing stones?” Sam asked.

“There are many of them. Holy wells too, but I’m tired. My brain has processed as much historical archeology as it can for one day.”

“All right.”

“What I could use is a bath,” Amy said. “To wash the history off.” She giggled.

As images of the day drifted away, anticipations for the evening settled in. There was no way Amy intended to endure another night staring at the ceiling. She needed to secure her own bottles of alcohol before they returned to their room.

“I need to use the restroom. Can we stop at a gas station if you find one?”

“Yeah. I want to examine the maps anyway. See if there’s a faster way back since we don’t want to wander off on any more expeditions.”

About fifteen minutes later, Amy was standing at the counter out of Sam’s line of vision, inspecting the liquor selections. The Drombeg Irish Spirits came in a large bottle, and the liquid contained a relatively low alcohol content. Amy decided to purchase three smaller bottles of regular whiskey.

The cashier frowned slightly when she asked for three bottles. He grabbed a larger bottle of the same brand.

“Saves you money,” he said as he placed the bottle on the counter.

Amy smiled, glanced over her shoulder, and tried to remain patient.

“They’re gifts,” she lied, as if the cheapest whiskey at the convenience store would make a great housewarming present.

Nevertheless, this explanation sufficed, and within a few minutes, Amy was settled in the car. She had carefully segregated the bottles with bits of the paper bag and tissues so they wouldn’t clink together.

Amy enjoyed a bath while Sam flipped through the television stations. She slowly consumed one of her flasks, lingering in the bath until it became unpleasantly cool. Then she diligently washed her mouth and gargled before leaving the bathroom.

“There’s nothing on TV here either,” Sam said as Amy emerged wrapped in a towel. When he saw her, he grinned and patted the bed.

“Don’t you want dinner first?” Amy asked innocently.

“I’m actually feeling more like dessert.”

Sufficiently buzzed to dampen her anxiety, Amy found it easy to drop her towel and ease between the sheets. This time she was not wasted to the point of blackout, and she relished Sam’s gentle lovemaking, breathing in his musky scent and quivering beneath his warm skin.