The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (3 page)

“What is it?”

“I didn’t even call Leah or Sam last night to tell
them I’d be gone and now they’re at school.”

“Don’t worry, I have a surprise for you” said Mom
as she reached into her pocket.  “Here, it’s time to retire that old one
of yours.” She tossed me a brand-new phone.

“Awesome,” I quickly opened it up and entered my
friends’ numbers into the address book.

“So now you can text them and let them know; also,
I want you to call me when you get to Ireland, and Wagmu…call me anytime, for
anything, ok?”

“Ok, Mom,” I said as I hugged and thanked
her.  I quickly texted my friends and told them what was going on. 

The hour-long drive to the airport was just like
last night’s dinner, quiet and uncomfortable.  Dad said maybe three words
the whole trip and Mom just kept nervously talking trying to fill in the quiet. 
When we finally got there, the butterflies in my stomach were choking me off at
the throat.  I’d only been on a plane twice before in my whole life and
those were pretty short flights.  This one would be overnight. 
Suddenly, boring times at school looked a whole lot more inviting than what was
facing me now.

As we walked to the boarding gate Mom held my arm
tightly.  She kissed my cheek a couple of times while we walked.  It
was uncomfortable and comforting at the same time; weird how that works.

When we reached the gate she grabbed me and
whispered, “Willow, call me when you get there; please, be there for your Dad,
but also try and make the most out of this trip. Techi ila.” That was Mom’s
Lakota way of saying
I love you
. 

She then held onto Dad and pulled him close,
whispering.  I watched as he sank his head onto her shoulder.  One
thing I could always be certain of was how much my parents loved each
other.  After one last hug he looked my way and reached out his hand.

“Ready, Wils?” he asked.  Then we boarded the
plane together.

Hours had passed and we still had hours to go
before we would land in Ireland.  The long overnight flight was beginning
to take its toll, cramping my legs and dampening my spirit.  I stood and
carefully moved past the elderly woman next to me making my way to the darkened
aisle.  I paced up and down the walkway a few times in an effort to work
out my constricted muscles.  Relief finally set in so I returned to my
seat.

“Where exactly are we going, Dad?”  I asked
quietly so as to not disturb the woman, who was now sound asleep.

“Where exactly?” he repeated in a low voice as he
stared out the small window.

“Yeah, what city in Ireland?”  I rested my
chin on his shoulder.

“My folks live near a place called Killarney in
the county of Kerry, a few miles outside of town.”

“Do you remember it?”

“Killarney? Yes, I remember it, beautiful place;
it’s where my uncle taught me to golf.”

“Tell me about it. What’s it like?”  I
whispered, leaning in closer.

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough.  I’ve
got a rental car waiting for us so you’ll get a close-up view of the
countryside.  We’ll stop along the way, maybe I’ll even let you drive,” he
whispered as he nudged me with his elbow.  “Your mother made me promise to
show you the castle among other things.”

“Castle?  Cool, can’t wait. Is Ireland all
green and lush, you know, the way it looks in pictures?”

“You’re sure full of questions, Wils. How about
trying to get some sleep?  We can talk on the drive into town.”  Dad
yawned, easing himself back into the awkward seat, stretching out his legs.

“Ok,” I said as I looked around, noticing almost
everyone else was sleeping.  Dad grabbed a small pillow and rested his
head against the window, falling asleep quickly.  After playing with my
phone for a while I decided I did feel tired.  I put my pillow close to
Dad’s shoulder and lay my head on it.  The hum of the plane actually was
soothing and before I knew it I was out like a light. 

The moon was rising, high in the crisp autumn
sky. The sound of the forest filled my ears and smells were everywhere: damp
leaves, dirt, moss, the occasional perfume of flowers.  A soft breeze blew
some of the few remaining leaves from the trees and I watched them dance across
the night before landing quietly on the damp ground. 

Clouds were quickly moving across the sky,
hiding the moon, but only momentarily.  It peeked out to illuminate the
forest below.  Patches of its light made areas come alive and change
color, from a dull gray to a glowing blue green.  Crackling sounds came
from the darker areas, sounds of branches breaking, rocks rolling, and
something else farther in the distance.  The sound grew closer.  It
was hard to distinguish what it was at first, but within minutes…the howls,
yips, and yelps soon filled my ears. 

My heart pounded and adrenaline began to flow. 
I took a deep breath, stretched my legs, and began to run, all the while
looking around to see if I could catch sight of the creatures who owned the howls. 
As they closed in I felt my legs push for greater stride and my heart pumped
almost out of my chest.  As before, I zigzagged in and out of the trees,
leaping over boulders and catching stray gleams of moonlight on the forest
floor. 

I found myself in a
clearing of the forest and felt compelled to stop, to be covered by the
moonlight.  As I tried to catch my breath, I felt them surrounding me…the
wolves.  The pack was growling, ears back, fangs in full view, pawing at
the forest floor; it was as though they were getting ready to attack. 
They circled me, engulfing me with their presence.  My eyes jetted back
and forth, searching for some sort of escape, then closed in on the single gray
wolf.  The wolf wasn’t growling.  It sat in front of the others, just
observing me.  As I waited for the attack, I realized the wolves were all
taking directions from the lone gray.

My
tense muscles began to relax as I studied the gray whose golden eyes almost
hypnotized me.  With my head lowered, I approached the lead wolf, but
stopped when a deafening screech overhead pierced the night.  I looked up
but was then sent reeling onto my back with two golden eyes staring into mine
and two large paws pushing me down.

I woke up with a start and looked around the
darkened airplane, panicked, trying to catch my breath.

“You ok?” asked Dad leaning over, a look of
concern in his eyes. “Quite a dream you were having there.”

My heart pounded and my palms felt sweaty. 
Glancing around the cabin, I tried to remember where I was and what was going
on.  The dream was so real this time, more than any time before.  The
smell of the forest still filled my nose.  The chill of the air was still
on my skin.  And most of all, the look of that wolf was still flashing
across my eyes.  Dad grabbed my hand. “Willow?”

“I’m not sure.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my
jeans.  The woman next to me let out a low snore and turned to her side.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Dad asked, as he
pulled a blanket up over my shoulders.

“Yeah, the same one I’ve been having, only it was
never a nightmare until now,” I answered, shivering.

“Well, you’re ok now – and good news, we’ll be
there in about an hour.”

“That’s good.” I couldn’t wait to get out of the
plane.  I never had the dream turn on me like that – and at the same time,
I wanted to go back to sleep and see what was going on.  I cuddled close
to Dad, with the images from my dream flashing across my mind, causing me to
tremble.

As we exited the plane I looked around the airport
and caught a glance of the sun coming up outside of the large viewing windows.

I’m in Ireland,
I suddenly realized. 
There wasn’t a lot of activity in the airport, I guess because of the early
hour, but still I lost myself in the clamor of the people who were there. 
The lilting sound of their voices made me smile.  I loved the Irish accent
and thoroughly enjoyed when Dad’s would kick in. Unfortunately that was usually
when he was mad at me about something.

“What time is it, Dad?”

“Hm, about six-thirty in the morning, I think.
Need to change my watch,” he said, glancing at the ancient timepiece hanging on
his wrist, the one I gave him for Father’s Day when I was six.

“Over this way, Wils.”  We hurried to the
baggage claim, grabbed our bags and made our way to the car rental
counter.  After Dad finished filling out all the paperwork we went to the
parking lot, jumped into our rental, and headed to Killarney.

 “That is really weird, having the driver sit
on the right side,” I said as I fidgeted with my seat belt.

“Eh, you get used to it.  I’ll let you drive
later so you can get a feel for it.” 

I wasn’t sure I wanted to but nodded.  As we
drove along I noticed the sky was pink and orange and covered with billowy
swift-moving clouds.  The air had a damp chill to it so I pulled up my
hoodie and zipped it closed. “You know where you’re going, right?” I asked,
throwing my pack in the back seat.

“Of course. I did live here, you know, even though
it’s been years since I’ve been back.  Some places just don’t change that
much.”

“Just like some people, right?” I had no idea what
possessed me to say that and judging by his expression neither did Dad.

“How
far away is Grandma and Grandpa’s house?” I wiped my foggy breath off the
window with the sleeve of my hoodie and watched the landscape flash by.

“About ninety miles, but we won’t be staying
there.  I’ve booked us a hotel nearby.” 

“Oh, will we be seeing Grandpa today?” I hesitated
to even look but slowly turned my head to see his reaction to my
question.  Nothing–no reaction and no response. 

As we drove along I noticed how beautiful the
Irish countryside was.  Mom had told me to take it all in, that she’d
never experienced any place quite like Ireland and I was seeing firsthand what
she meant.  I quickly lost myself in the verdant green landscape. The
rolling grass-covered hills, the blue sky, the lakes scattered throughout, were
all breathtaking; along with the buildings, cottages, castles, and houses that
looked as though they’d been there forever. Living in New Mexico, we didn’t see
much territory like this.   Sure, we have our lush areas, but it’s an
arid climate and has a desert feel to it, completely opposite of the scene that
was racing by my window.

I must have snapped a hundred pictures in a matter
of a few minutes.  I quickly sent one to Mom with a message that we were
on our way to the hotel and we’d call her once we got there.   Dad
pointed out some special sights along the way and promised me we’d come back to
take a closer look. 

One in particular he told me about was Killarney
National Park, that it was home to a wide variety of wildlife, castles, lakes,
and that we’d go there and explore.  I was becoming so excited I could
barely speak.  I even forgot why we were there; the beauty and excitement
of the place took me over.

After driving for a couple of hours we pulled up
to our hotel.  It was one of those hotel chains that you can find anywhere
which kind of disappointed me, especially after seeing all the unique inns on
the drive.  But I figured we wouldn’t be spending much time there anyway.

“Ok, Wils, let’s go check in, then we’ll come get
our suitcases.”

We quickly got our key and found our room on the
fourth floor.  I loved it, but… come to think of it; I love any hotel room–something
exciting about going away and staying somewhere new and different.  When
we opened the doors I was pleasantly surprised.  The place was
charming.  It was a large room with two queen-sized beds covered in
emerald green and red plaid comforters with red flannel pillows.  In the
corner sat a table and chairs with a lamp and lampshade matching the
comforters.  One painting hanging on the wall was of the gorgeous Irish
coastline, and another was of the town of Killarney.  Sliding glass doors
opened onto a quaint little balcony with another table and chairs. 

“Not too bad, eh?” asked Dad as he looked around
the room.

“I love it. Is that the town right over there?” I
asked, pointing out the window.

“Yep, sure is. Let’s get a bite to eat and then
have a look around. Sound good?”

“Perfect.” I felt excited at the idea of exploring
the town of my father’s childhood.  We decided to eat at the little diner
at the hotel with Dad promising me that we’d step it up the next day and
experience more authentic Irish cuisine. 

Later, we strolled along the winding streets of
Killarney, laughing and joking with each other.  It felt wonderful. 
Lately Dad and I had kind of drifted apart. I guess because I was getting older
and he was busy with his landscape company. 

He pointed out some of the town’s historic places
and we even went into a few of the shops – something Dad was never a fan of,
shopping.  We then went to a pub where he had a beer and I had a cup of
tea.  The atmosphere was rich with people from all over the world and
their different accents and free-flying conversations.  The sense of
happiness was contagious and I even saw it on Dad’s face.  A smile crossed
his lips that hadn’t been there for a long time. 

When we stepped outside, the weather had changed
to cloudy skies with cold drizzling rain.  I pulled up my hood and
shivered at the sudden drop in temperature.  Dad suggested that we call it
a day and turn in early because tomorrow would be busy.  Part of me wanted
to hang out in town but my sense of comfort overtook my sense of fun, so I
agreed.

The next morning I woke up hungry and full of
energy.  I watched Dad sleeping and quietly rolled out of bed, slipping in
between the two curtains covering the balcony window and opening the sliding
door. I had to make sure I hadn’t dreamed everything and wanted to see if we
were still in Ireland.

 Looking out on the street I saw groups of
people rushing about.  Walking, riding bikes, jogging, they all looked so
happy.  Dad had told me that Killarney was a big tourist destination, so
that explained the happiness all around; plus, the very nature of this country
seemed one of joy.

 When
I spoke to Mom the day before, she asked for my thoughts on Ireland…it was just
too difficult to put into words.  The place was beyond beautiful; it truly
was like nothing I’d ever seen before.  We’d traveled around the western
United States a lot and I always thought it had the most beautiful scenery but
now, being here, it was just so different. The old buildings, the small-town
feel, and the almost melodic sound of Irish voices had me a experiencing a most
welcome form of culture shock.  It not only felt different, and sounded
different, it even smelled different. The aroma of flowers and other plant life
transported me back to the Botanic Gardens near our home with its huge array of
plant life. Plus the air itself felt soft and damp – not wet, just soft, unlike
the dry air at home.

“I sure hope that’s you there behind those curtains,
Willow,” grumbled Dad.

“Nobody here but us leprechauns,” I laughed,
trying out my pitiful Irish brogue, peeking in between the drapes.

“Well, ya best have brought me a pot of gold
then,” Dad replied, in perfect Irish rhythm.

I laughed and jumped out from behind the curtain
and plopped on his bed. “Dad?”

“Wils?”

“How come you barely have any accent? I mean, you
did live here until you were eighteen, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, shouldn’t you still have an accent?”

“I’ve lived in the US for over 30 years; people
tend to pick up the dialect of where they live after that amount of time,” he
answered, yawning.

“Too bad, I love the Irish accent,” I noted
rubbing my fingers across the plaid pattern of his comforter.