Cailín (Lass) (Anam Céile Chronicles) (11 page)

One day
in late May just past me sixteenth birthday, whilst out tending to me duties
with the animals, I noticed Morrissey looked not himself.  I went to him and
ask him what be the matter and he expressed to me that he be
tinn
. 

Immediately,
I went inside the cottage to inform me parents.  Me mama be concerned as I, fer
she understood the gift I have. 

Me
father, on the other hand, took a bit more convincing, especially since there
were not yet any obvious symptoms.
 
But,
fortunately his respect and dependence upon that old
aiteann
made him
think twice about risking not taking heed of me warning.

He
drove to town to alert the
tréidlia
.  Dr. O’Connor was not available, so
Donovan willingly made the trip out to our farm to have a look at Morrissey. 
Me father conversed with him briefly, and although I couldn’t actually hear
what they were saying, I could nevertheless pick up me father’s tone.  I
wondered what Donovan must think.

Me
father had to get back to his work, muttering as he left, “Aislinn, don’t you
be trailing after him like a wretched mongrel.  Let him do his work.”

Disregarding
him entirely, I lingered on near Donovan.

Unabashedly,
I ogled him as he worked.  With the few and far between occasions of being so
fortunate to be so near him, I had to relish each possible second I be awarded. 
Now, this close to him fer as extended a time as ever I had been, I be able to
really take him in wholly fer the first.  I determined to commit to memory each
minute feature of which he be comprised, so that me forthcoming preoccupations
of him could be entirely precise, having not one hint of vagueness whatsoever!

Little
mole upon the side of his neck just under his jaw … perfectly straight teeth …
soft plump earlobes … the way his hairline kisses the back of his neck …
tousled waves of hair … the freshness of his face … slight cleft in his strong
chin … small dimple upon the left side when he flashes his shy offset smile … 
gentle wave in the descent of his nose …  the rift above his brow when he is
concerned …  inviting russet curls peeking out the top of his shirt-line …  His
voice more lovely than the most beautiful music that ever has inspired me soul … 

Just
then Donovan glanced back to discover me staring at him intently.  Our eyes met
and fer a long moment sustained their encounter with a conveyance all their
own.  He smiled modestly and went on with what he be doing pensively.  I did
take notice of the way that smile seemed to linger upon his lips.

When I
looked at him, I didn’t merely see him, I felt him.  I gazed upon him and I saw
all I was to be. 

There be
no way to disguise the way he shines.  Oh, how I want him to know the things I
feel fer him!  But then again, I do not.  Fer if he does, me fantasy might
surely burst!  Why must it all be so complex?
 

I
gawked as carefully he glided his hands ever gently over Morrissey, examining
him fer any signs of ailment.  Never did I think I would be jealous of an old
aiteann
,
but emerald as Éire I be as I coveted the feel of those hands to explore me
body in that same great detail! 

Suddenly
I became distracted by the burbling of me belly.
 Oh, how ravenous observing
him affects me!  If only he could satisfy me hunger with a kiss!

“Well,”
he began after his thorough examination, “I not be the expert by any measure,
but fairly certain I be that Morrissey is suffering from an impending bout of
colic, which at his age, could very well have debilitated him.” 

“’Tis
as I thought, then,” I confided, mostly to me self.

“I’ll
give your father instructions to keep Morrissey comfortable tonight and, of
course, I shall still have Dr. O’Connor come out tomorrow and check him himself
just to be certain.”

Satisfied,
I nodded me head, filled with admiration fer him and his caring devotion to his
chosen path.

“I have
to admit, Aislinn, I be rather intrigued," he started somewhat
inquisitively.  “Do tell me.  How was it you knew?” 

“Oh! 
Well . . . you know, I have been around dear old Morrissey fer me whole life,
and I be extraordinarily in tune to him, I suppose.” I fibbed. 

After
all, what would he think of me if he knew the things I actually be capable of? 
Would he think me as a sidhe, the same as me father?

“Hmm .
. .” be all Donovan uttered in response, eyeing me rather curiously as he
gathered up his bags.  “You certainly are exceptionally mature fer only
fifteen.”  He glanced back at me and I was sure I caught his eyes rove quickly
over me form as he said it.  A rush of sensation traveled throughout me body.

Donovan
turned to face me and reached his arm toward me, gently taking me hand in his. 
Just the warmth from the mere touch of his hand upon mine nearly set me afire! 
I reveled in the fleeting seconds that his hand be delicately enveloping me
fingers, subtly fondling them as he deliberately raised it to his face, brought
it to his mouth and slowly bestowed a tender kiss upon the back of me hand.  Me
eyelids fluttered as the sensation of his luscious lips touching me skin sent a
current of delight through me as liquid lightning! 

“G’day
Aislinn,” Donovan said sweetly as he lowered me now limp hand.  “’Tis been me
pleasure.  I do hope to see you again
soon
.”  He smiled as he looked
directly into me eyes.

I could
only nod me head, still tingly from that kiss.  I watched him as he walked
away.  When he reached his mount, Donovan looked back and smiled warmly at me
before mounting and riding off.

Me
family they were all amazed that I be accurate, and marveled at how ‘twas I
could have foretold Morrissey’s imminent illness.  Of course, me Mama bestowed
me with a proud knowing smile.  Conversely, me father just eyed me
suspiciously.  

T
hat next
summer I did not pass at Deirdre’s house as customarily I had.  Happily, she
and Fergus wed at the end of May and were on honeymoon while a house be erected
fer them.  The knowledge that I be doomed to be confined here at me father’s
was grim; yet, I expected that meant I would have the prospect of seeing Donovan
on more frequent the occasion.

Lamentably,
I did not see him again fer the rest of the summer of me sixteenth year.  ‘Twas
long and arduous not knowing when I might lay eyes upon him or be in the warmth
of his presence again.  Me hope was beginning to dwindle.  Even still, me
continuous thoughts of him never faded.   I began to feel as though me restlessness
surely would drive me mad!

‘Twas
the end of that summer when one day me mama came home from a trip to town and
caught me whilst I be in the yard tending me chores to share the good news! 

“Aislinn!”
she called to me excitedly.  “Come here, Daughter!” 

Curious,
I finished what I be doing presently and walked over to her.  She grasped both
of me hands.  I looked at her questioningly.

“Whilst
in Lisdoonvarna today, I crossed paths with Maureen MacDougal!” Mama announced,
clearly elated.

“Oh.” I
replied, a bit perplexed.  “Well, that be simply grand, Ma.  How be Maureen,
then?” 

“Never
mind
that
, silly lass!” she chortled reproaching.

Now I
surely be beyond a little perplexed.

“
She
be the entertainment coordinator fer the Matchmaking Festival this year. 
And
she enquired whether you still play yer fiddle.  Naturally, I told her you play
as an outright angel!”

Well,
she had gripped me attention now!

“Consequently
. . .” Mama said drawing out the words, “she asked if you wouldn’t mind
performing in their first Saturday lineup next month in September,” she finally
declared, her hands gripping mine so hard I thought the bones in me hands would
surely compress under the pressure!

Me eyes
expanded and me mouth gaped as I struggled to the fathom the truth of this what
she told me. 

“’Tis
true?”  I questioned skeptically.  “Please do not say this all be in jest!” 

“Oh,
Aislinn, jest you of something such as this, I would never!” Mama encouraged,
leaning in to squeeze me.  I exhaled, most thankful she had finally let go of
me hands!

I could
scarcely believe it as I hugged her back. 

Then I
had a sudden realization.

“But,
what of Father?” I asked, fearing none of it would matter anyway.

“Not to
worry about him, Daughter,” she told me reassuringly.  “He and I disputed
nearly the entirety of this trip home.  I made it clear you would be going if
that be what you wanted.  He’ll not be the one to stop you, I promise you that!”

“Essentially,
agreed to it merely conditionally did he,” Ma informed me grudgingly.

“Oh?” I
enquired uneasily when I considered the possibilities of his conditions.  “And
pray tell, what might that be?”  Me stomach spun itself in knots in
anticipation of hearing that which me father had stipulated.

“I had
to assure him you’d take part in the matchmaking games and would snag a lad as
a consequence of yer participation,” she confessed.

I
groaned, shaking me head.
 The opportunity to play me fiddle as this be
an honour I dared not decline.  Nonetheless, the last thing I wished to do be
to participate in some preposterous matchmaking games! 

Especially
when I already knew with whom I wished to be.  He simply needed time to realise
it, too!
 
Still, I feared if were it not soon, me father would govern
the likelihood of such circumstances entirely!

He
shall deny me any happiness unless it benefits him in some way.  Well, I
suppose that explains him storming into the house grumbling upon their return home
today.  I pray he’ll not be all the more severe with me now, to make his point
clear that he’s not happy about it!  Although, if he assumes I be nearly out
from under his roof, then perhaps he shall very well be all the jauntier
instead!

The
morning of me big day, me Mama dragged me from bed well before the crack of
dawn to get me chores out of the way so she could spend the remainder of the
morning doting over me, readying me fer the performance.  She trimmed and filed
me nails, brushed me hair, plucked me brows, pinched me cheeks so they would
take on a rosy hue, and rubbed me lips coarsely ‘til they swelled up plump and
were glossy.

A
several hour trek to Lisdoonvarna by wagon ‘twas, we departed by nine O’clock as
she wanted to have me there with enough time to rest and eat before me
performance at three O’clock in the afternoon.  The trip went well and we arrived
with plenty of spare time fer me nervousness to settle right in.

When
‘twas me turn, I became nearly unnerved.  I stepped out onto that stage as me
name be pronounced to the crowd, viewing more people than I had dared to
imagine.  Instantly, me head began spinning and me stomach churning.  I
squeezed me eyes several times to try to stop it all and regain meself.

Me ears
felt as if they had ignited, certain I be they would singe me hair any moment! 
Me head floating away again as I tried hard to reason it back to me body.  Me
arms felt as though they were going numb whilst at the same time the trembling
started to take root.  That be when I thought about the mechanics of playing
and realised me mind be a total blank.  Suddenly I found meself feeling
terrified at the outcome of this! 

What be
I thinking, agreeing to do this?  I’ll make an utter fool of meself!  So dizzy I
feel I cannot see straight, everything is a spinning blur.  What if I fall
right off the stage?  Oh, I think I may vomit . . .  And with me arms all numb,
how am I to hold me instrument?  And what song be I meant to play!  Wait! 
Believe I do not even recollect HOW to play at all!  What is it me hands are supposed
to do?  And how are they supposed to do anything at all, tingling as they are?

Soon to
be grateful I was that I’d tolerated me Mama’s fussing over me.  Fer I looked
out and suddenly in the blurry sea of faces awaiting me performance to
commence, one face did stretch out to me in perfect clarity.