The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (11 page)

I frowned and pursed my lips. “What are you
saying, leprechauns?”  I asked with a smirk.

Bram leaned closer, looked over his shoulder, then
back to me, and whispered. “You don’t believe in leprechauns?” he asked,
feigning astonishment.

I sneered and drew closer to his face. “No, I
don’t.”

Bram laughed and ran his hand through his
hair.  “Smart girl.  Anyway, truth of the matter, Mauve just
disappeared, so you can imagine the stories that surfaced after that.”

“They never found her?” I mouthed my words
carefully.

“No, not a trace.  When Juhon returned, he
searched the woods day and night.  He took out hounds and hired local
lads; even offered a huge reward for anyone having any information, but nothing
panned out.  And the weirdest part is that exactly one year to the day
that Mauve went missing, Juhon, who was out walking – searching for her still,
I’m sure – fell off of Carney Cliff and drowned.  At least that’s what
they assumed after his body washed up on shore.”

I suddenly felt a cold chill run down my
spine.  I looked around feeling like I might catch sight of Mauve’s and
Juhon’s ghosts.

“You ok?” Bram asked.

“Yeah, that was quite a story.  I love a good
ghost story,” I remarked.  But Bram didn’t pick up on what I said. 
He looked in his pocket for his tablet, then hit himself on the head. “I forgot
my notebook.”

I reached into my pocket for a piece of paper then
felt my phone.  A light bulb moment...I held it up.

“You have your cell?”

He pulled it out of his pocket.

I began texting to him. 
Thank goodness
for modern technology,
I thought. After a short conversation about the
spirits of Brigham Castle we decided to walk around the grounds before the sky
opened up.

We followed a narrow footpath that led straight
into the woods.  It was crazy how one second everything was so trimmed and
manicured and the next minute, we were surrounded by a dense forest, thick with
trees and overgrown with all kinds of foliage.  The sky became darker
still as we descended into the woods.  The path was becoming less visible,
eaten away by the forest floor.  A few feet ahead of us sat a large
boulder and running alongside it was a little brook.  We climbed on top of
the boulder and sat watching the brook.

“Do you come here a lot?” I texted.

Bram laughed, “Are you trying to pick me up,
Lass?” he answered in his warm Irish accent.

I cracked up, couldn’t believe I’d said that.

“Seriously, you sure know your way around here,
and everything there is to know about the place, so you must come here a lot.”
I said both in voice and text.

“Aye, I used to interpret for deaf tour groups.
Not as much now, busy with school and such.”

I found myself getting
very
lost in his
eyes as he spoke.  It was amazing to me that here he was, deaf, speaking
perfectly and making me feel so comfortable.  As we talked I realized that
I had never felt like this about any other guy. 

 We sat chatting, texting, and laughing for
about an hour.  Then he reached over and pushed a loose strand of hair
behind my ear.  Our eyes locked and I felt his warm hands cover
mine.  Just then I got a phone call from Dad asking where I was.

 “It’s my dad, I’d better get back.”

“Ok,” he agreed holding his stare for a few more
moments, capturing me with those eyes.

We jumped off the boulder and were beginning our
trek back when I had the strange sense of being watched. Out of the corner of
my eye, I caught sight of something shooting into the darkest part of the
forest.

“What the –” Bram mumbled, looking towards the
movement.

I turned to him as he began to give chase after
the phantom.  Jumping over the small brook, he slipped on some
moss-covered rocks and fell. 

“Ah, blast, it got away.” He pulled himself up,
brushing the forest floor away from his jeans.  “What was that?” he asked,
searching my eyes.

I shrugged.  “I’ve seen something like it
twice before.” I slowly spoke, holding up two fingers.

His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, “You’ve
seen that before?”

“Yes, twice.” I answered, believing it was the
same thing.

He shot a look back into the woods, almost as if
he was thinking about going after it, whatever it was.  But the droplets of
rain made him think otherwise.

“I best get you back,” his voice cracked as he
took hold of my hand and headed down the path.  We made our way back to
the car, just in time – the downpour ensued right after we closed our
doors.  He sat stationary except for running his fingers through his hair,
releasing the few droplets that still clung to the earth colored strands.

I grabbed my phone. “What are you thinking?” I
quickly texted.

He bit his lower lip then turned to face me. “Just
wondering what that was.  You say you’ve seen it twice before?” 

I nodded then looked back towards the castle and
the distant pathway where we’d seen the phantom movement.  A chill ran
over me and I shivered at the thought of whatever that might have been. 
Bram was still staring at me and noticed I was trembling. 

“You cold?” he asked as he started the car, and
then turned on the heat.  I held my hands up to the vent and let the
warmth wash over my fingers.  Quickly the chill passed as we made our way
back onto the road.

Booming claps of thunder followed us all the way
back to Killarney with the skies opening up to sheets of rain.  The
windshield wipers were unable to keep a clear view for more than a split
second.  Bram opened his window, sticking his head out to make sure the
way was clear.  By the time we reached the hotel, the worst of the storm
was over.  

Bram walked me back to the hotel room where I
introduced him to Dad, who surprised the heck out of me when he began using
sign language.

“Dad! How do you know how to sign?”

“I don’t know a lot, just some finger spelling and
a few signs.  Your mom knows more than I do.”

“How…why? When did you learn how to sign?” Just
when I thought I knew almost everything about my parents.

“Mom’s friend Penny is deaf.  She taught me
when she came and stayed with us after you were born.  She lived with us
for a couple of months before she moved to Alaska so I had plenty of practice
then.  I’m kinda rusty now.”  Dad continued signing to Bram while he
spoke to me.

  I watched as the two worked at non-verbal
communication.  Bram would take Dad’s hand and shape it into a sign and
Dad would nod, realizing he hadn’t been doing it quite right.

“Irish Sign Language is a bit different from
American Sign Language,” Dad explained. “Bram is showing me the variations in
the alphabet.”

I felt so proud of Dad; he was really making an
effort with Bram.  I’d never seen him do that with any of my friends
before.  Of course, at home, we aren’t usually hanging out with Dad. 
They wouldn’t even see him most of the time.  Watching him now made me
feel a special closeness that I hadn’t felt in years.

“Does that sound good, Willow?” Dad asked as he
put on a jacket.

“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I’ve invited Bram to go to dinner with us. He
wants to go change out of his wet clothes, then he’ll come back and join us;
sound good?” Dad smiled and winked.

I frowned at Dad but then quickly shot Bram a
smile.  He raised his eyebrows as if to ask if everything was cool. 
I just smiled and nodded.  I walked him to the elevator and came back to
the room only to see Dad sitting there with a big goofy grin on his face.

“Really?” I asked, “Is that necessary?”

“Whhhhhaaaaatttttt?” he teased, moving toward me
with his arms extended.

“Back off, Dad,” I ordered.

He laughed and grabbed hold, tickling my ribs and
lifting me off my feet.  “Ah, my little Willy got herself an Irish
lad.”  He swung me from side to side cackling like an old lady.

I stiffened until he let go. “That’s quite enough,
mister,” I ordered again but he just kept laughing.

I sought sanctuary in the bathroom and took a long
look in the mirror.  I was curious as to how I had fared the wild
weather.  My hair was loose in spots but looked okay.  And luckily,
the little mascara I wore was still on; it hadn’t washed off leaving me with
raccoon eyes
.  Not too bad, Wil,
I thought. 

I cleaned myself up and put on a change of
clothes.  As I looked in the mirror I realized how much I now cared about
my appearance.  I’d never been a slave to fashion and my idea of cosmetics
had been Chapstick and eye drops.  I took my hair out of the ponytail and
shook it loose.  My dark auburn locks were trying to frizz up on me again
so I pulled out my hair straightener and anti-frizz smoother.  Within a
few minutes I was able to tame my mane. 

I then studied my face and tried applying a bit
more make-up.  I brushed on a thin application of the mineral powder that
Mom gave me at Christmas.  I had only used it once before, when we took
year-book pictures at school.  The powder looked nice and natural…just my
style.  Next I added a small amount of bronze-colored lip gloss. 
Stepping back, I checked myself from all angles and felt satisfied…I managed to
find the perfect blend of enhancements and the natural look that I
wanted.  While I stood there judging my superficial self, I heard a knock
at the door.

“Want me to get that, Wil?” Dad asked, his voice
nearing as he spoke.

“Yeah… please.”  I quickly packed up my
toiletries and checked myself one more time in the mirror.  This was
unchartered territory for me…to care this much about how I looked for a
guy.  I would laugh at my friends when they put so much effort into their
appearance for a date
.  “
Just be yourself,” I would tell them, and
now, here I was, doing basically the same thing, foofooing in front of a
mirror.

 I heard the door open and the muffled
conversation between Dad and Bram.  Just hearing his voice brought back
the butterflies in my stomach. I glanced in the mirror and took in a deep
breath, squaring my shoulders before I turned the knob.

“You look great,” Bram whispered as we walked
behind Dad on our way to the car.  I looked up at him and smiled, his warm
breath lingered on my face. 

“Thanks,” I replied reaching up and smoothing my
hair, hoping it would behave and not take on a life of its own.  We rode
in the back seat together with Dad as our chauffeur.  It felt like I was a
little kid with my daddy chaperoning my first date. 

This time with Bram put everything else on the
back burner.  I hadn’t thought about Grandma or my dreams, or the forest
or much of anything else for that matter.  It occurred to me that I hadn’t
even asked Dad how it went at the police department. Part of me didn’t want to
ask, didn’t want to know, at least not right now.  I was more than content
to just be with Bram, talking to him, looking at him, and being near him.

Dinner was nice even with Dad sitting there. 
He seemed to be enjoying himself, which was good to see.  Despite the
differences in their ages, Dad and Bram discovered a common
interest…golf.  The only time my dad ever became animated in a
conversation was if it had anything to do with golf.  He loved the
sport.  He loved to play it, watch it, and talk about it.  And this
dinnertime conversation was monopolized by their shared hobby. 

At one point Dad stopped interpreting for me and
was having a silent chat with Bram.  I watched them for a few minutes then
tapped Dad’s hand.  “What are you talking about?”  I wondered,
feeling a little left out.

“I asked Bram if he ever considered hearing aids
or cochlear implants,” Dad replied, sharing with Bram.

“I know what hearing aids are, but what are
cochlear implants?”  I turned my attention from Dad to Bram.

“Implants are electronic surgical aids.  Some
people do well with them and regain some of their hearing.  I’ve
considered them but decided to give myself and the technology time. 
Hearing aids don’t work for me because I have very little hearing left,” Bram
answered, tapping the outside of his ear.

“After I became deaf I discovered a whole new
culture.  Meeting other deaf people and seeing how they treat their
deafness, not so much as a handicap but as a part of their life, helped me to
accept my hearing loss, learn sign language, and become a part of that
culture.  Who knows, maybe someday I’ll look into implants, but for right
now, I’m ok with the way things are.”  Bram’s resilience was inspiring.

Dad signed, “Your parents must be very proud of
you.”

Bram shrugged, “Well my da is.  Mum left us a
year after I went deaf.  She swore my deafness didn’t have anything to do
with it, but…” Bram lowered his gaze to his plate and moved the last bits of
food around with his fork.  I grabbed hold of his arm.  He looked
over and smirked. “It’s ok, I still see her every now and then when she’s in
town.  She moved to Dublin.  Her job has her traveling a lot so…”

A long pause followed.  “She’s missing out,”
Dad said adamantly, spelling out each letter slowly.

Bram’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Dad. 
The look on my father’s face spoke volumes, without the need for explanation. 
He raised his eyebrows and patted the back of Bram’s hand. Bram nodded. 
How hard it must have been for him to not only deal with his deafness but a
mother who walked out. 

Dad signed for another minute, not letting me in
on what he was saying.  He didn’t need to.  He took being a parent
seriously – he’d never leave us, and neither would Mom for that matter,
especially during a difficult time like Bram had been through.  I sat
there, realizing how lucky I was.  After Dad finished signing, Bram nodded
and grinned.  “Thanks, Jack,” he said softly.

After a dessert of Irish Potato Pie, which didn’t
really sound good but was delicious, we decided to stroll along the city
streets.  The storm that had passed through earlier in the day left the
city feeling new and clean.  Streetlights sparkled in the puddles as
passersby greeted us with cheery salutations. 

Bram reached out and laced his fingers through
mine.  It took me by surprise and I found myself staring at our hands as
though they had been involved in some kind of crime. 

“Ok?” Bram questioned, aware of my ambivalence.

I nodded.  It was more than ok.

The rest of our time together as a trio was spent
casually exploring the town of Killarney.  Dad wanted to go into a pub
called ‘The Black Deer’ to see if it was still owned by the same family. 
He had gone to school with the son of the original owner and at one time had
been very good friends with him.  Bram and I decided to sit on the bench
outside and wait.  He moved in closer, pulling my hand to his lap.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered looking into his eyes that now
sparkled from all the surrounding lights.  We sat and watched people
passing by.  It didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, those moments of
silence.  It felt natural.  Normally I’d feel the need to fill in
quiet moments with idle chatter, but these didn’t need to be filled in with
anything.  They just were, and that was enough.

 I was beginning to have powerful feelings for
this “Irish lad,” as Dad had called him.  What was I going to do with
those feelings? I mean, I’d be going home soon.  I hadn’t even thought
about that; I’d have to say good-bye to Bram.  That thought brought so
much sadness to my heart.  I looked over at him and it felt as though he
was thinking the same thing.  He leaned his head into mine.  I
reached my hand over and wrapped my arm through his.

“Willow….um, well, I don’t quite know how to say
this,” he began, his voice almost trembling.

I looked at him questioningly, not quite sure what
was coming.

“I know we’ve only known each other a short time,
but…” his voice trailed off as he struggled for words.

I tilted my head in anticipation.  He looked
down and tightened his grip on my hand.

“The thing of it is…I, um –”

“What is it Bram? Please just say it.”

He nodded, “Willow, I’ve grown quite fond of you,
never felt this strongly…” His face was lowered with his eyes focused on the
sidewalk. “I hate the thought of you leaving.” 

A flush came over his face as he turned to look me
in the eye.  My heart began pounding with the realization of what he had
just said.  His words reflected the exact feelings I found myself
struggling with.  I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. 
At that moment, we were the only two people in the world, in the moonlight, on
that bench, in the heart of Killarney, Ireland.  I turned my head up to
look into his eyes.

“Bram, I feel the same,” I made sure to say each
word slowly and clearly.  He smiled, leaned down and gently kissed my
cheek.  The whole world stopped.  It was just us…nothing else
mattered.

When Dad and I returned to the hotel I asked him
about the meeting with the police.  He told me that, so far, the police
didn’t have much to go on, but they weren’t concerned.  They felt this was
a case that needed clarification as to the exact cause of Grandmas death. 
The lab results hadn’t come back so that information was still
outstanding.  I asked if Grandpa knew. Dad said no and that, as of now,
the police didn’t think he needed to be told if Dad and Eagan felt it might
distress him.  They told him they would have the lab results in two
days.  He seemed ok with all of it, so I was too.

Sleep didn’t come easily.  I tossed and
turned.  Images floated before my eyes and robbed me of much-needed
slumber.  When I did finally drift off my visions were of home, Mom, and
my friends.  In my dreams they kept fading from me while I reached out to
them.

 I got up one time and got a drink of
water.  I stood at the big picture window, with the curtains open, looking
out onto the dark evening.  I found myself wondering what Bram was doing,
if he was having a hard time sleeping as well.

Lying back down on the soft pillow-top mattress my
mind kept flashing onto the previous evening’s sunset.  The colors
swirled, intermixing reds and pinks and purples.  And once again I found
myself standing in the forest, in the middle of the clearing that was becoming
far too familiar. 

Long shadows brought about by the setting sun
created abstract shapes as they landed on boulders and the needle covered
ground.  My own shadow gave way to a life separate from my being, changing
shape as it made its way over obstacles dotting the forest floor.  The
breeze once again grabbed hold of orphaned leaves as they fell to earth and
tossed them into the fading light of day.  The sounds in the distance,
grew closer and louder.  The lower the sun sank, the more pronounced the
sounds became.  The departure of the day brought about the arrival of
creatures of the night.  I felt myself become one with the forest.  I
raised my arms and began to spin, slowly, an indistinguishable voice coming
from my throat, chanting something ancient, something powerful. 

A sliver of moonlight shone in the clearing
where I stood spinning, chanting as I caught sight of the first of them. Then
slowly, one by one, the brethren of the forest, the keepers of the woods,
appeared.  Each one took its place in the clearing, one to the north, one
to the south, one to the east, and finally the large gray to the west.  I
stopped spinning and began my transformation.  I stood in the center of
the circle and in unison we sang the song of the night, the howls of unity, the
cry of transformation; overhead, a screech pierced the darkness.