“I see,” said Regan slowly.
“And today was the day I was going to tell you, Regan. Today was the day. Except now I have no poem for you and so I can’t tell you.”
“You have no poem, Shamus?” asked Regan. “And why would you be needin’ a poem to tell me something?”
“Because ordinary words are no good, Regan,” Shamus replied earnestly. “Because I must tell you that you are the dearest thing to me in the whole world and I’ll love you forever.”
Regan smiled gently. “Well, the fact is, Shamus, that you don’t know me nearly well enough to say that, and I don’t know you well enough to know if I want you to say it. But anyone who will open his heart to me like that…well, they’re worth getting to know better. So come with me and we’ll have a nice walk in the glen together.” Regan slipped her hand inside Shamus’ and tugged him along. Shamus was too surprised to say much of anything, but finally managed to blurt out,” Well, if it would please you Regan,” as he was dragged off. Meanwhile, from the edge of the glen, Sean and Katherine, both looked on, smiling broadly.
Katherine then turned to Sean quickly. “What about the gold?”
Sean smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll come back later and talk to Shamus about it.”
Chapter 11: One Problem Solved
“Things are better than before, Katie. There’s no question about it,” said Sean cheerfully, sitting at his desk and twirling a pencil in his hand.
“I think it’s wonderful,” said Katherine. “Shamus and Regan are happy together. Shamus is no longer angry at us.”
“He was never that angry at you, Katie. It was me who made him furious by not providing him with that love poem,” said Sean.
“But everything certainly turned out well,” said Katherine. “He didn’t need your poem to win Regan’s heart. He just needed to follow his own heart.”
“Yes, that did turn out well,” said Sean. “And Shamus reversed his bit of magic that was startin’ to grow a tail on me. It’s all gone now and I’m very grateful for that.”
“So things couldn’t be better,” Katherine said happily.
“Well, not exactly,” said Sean. “Let’s not be forgettin’ that I’ve still got to be standing before the local magistrate tomorrow with Mrs. O’Hara’s lawyer starin’ me in the face and tryin’ to convince the jury that I’m a hopeless case who should be tossed into jail just because I can’t pay my debt.”
“Yes, I know,” said Katherine glumly. “I was hoping that Shamus might come through with that gold after all.”
“Oh, I talked to him about it,” said Sean. “But he said he couldn’t do it. It would put a blot on the honor of all leprechauns if he were to pay me for a love poem that I never delivered to him. He has a point, I suppose. Anyway, we’ll not be getting any gold from Shamus to pay off my debt. He did say that he might be able to help in some other way, but I’m not sure what he was talkin’ about.”
“Well, Sean,” said Katherine with a sigh, “just do your best in court tomorrow and we’ll have to trust to luck,”
Chapter 12: Courtroom Drama
The morning of the next day was dark and depressing as Sean and his sister walked slowly toward the courthouse.
“Sean, we should have told mother and father that you had to go to court today,” said Katherine.
“Why put that load on their shoulders?” said Sean. “There’s nothing they can do for me, Katherine. It’s just me against Mrs. O’Hara and her lawyer, Katie, and I don’t think I’m going to win that battle.”
“But Sean,” Katherine exclaimed,” isn’t there anything anyone can do?”
Sean shrugged. “As you said yesterday, Katie, all we can do is trust our luck.”
***
The courtroom was packed, mostly with Sean’s friends. Some of them tended to be a little noisy in expressing their support for Sean and their dislike for Mrs. O’Hara, but the bailiff soon quieted them down. The noise from the observers swelled up again briefly as Mrs. O’Hara’s lawyer entered the room. The Lawyer, a Mr. McGarrity, was the exact opposite of Mrs. O’Hara. Where she was rotund and red in the face, he was thin and pale. But, like Mrs. O’Hara, he had a smile that seemed mean rather than jovial and he flashed it everywhere as he entered the courtroom in his fine robes.
As soon as everyone was seated in tables at the front, the judge pounded his gavel to bring the proceedings to order.
“We’re here today to hear the case of Mrs. O’Hara, noted citizen of Blessington, against the young Sean Clendenan,” the judge began in a hoarse and grumpy voice. “Is everyone present who’s supposed to be here?”
“Not quite,” came a voice from the back of the room. A small, chubby man made his way forward, beaming broadly. “Sorry to be a bit late, your Honor,” said the rotund man. Like Mr. McGarrity, the man wore long black robes, although his were a bit torn and natty.
“And whom exactly might you be?” asked the judge impatiently.
“Your Honor, I am Mr. Mortimer, attorney for Mr. Sean Clendenan,” said the newcomer, smiling broadly. Many in the courtroom gasped, especially those in the jury box. Sean was confused and turned in his chair to look at his sister, who was sitting a few seats in back of him. Katherine was equally confused and could only shrug at her brother.
“Mr. Mortimer, is it?” asked the judge. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard of you.”
Mortimer continued to smile. “Oh, judge, I can assure you that my people have lived in these parts for years…centuries even.”
“Harrumph,” said the judge. “Well, I guess it’s up to young Clendenan if he wants to waste his money…what little he’s got of it.” At that, a number of jury members smirked or guffawed.
“Well, said Mr. Mortimer cheerfully as he took as seat beside Sean. “I guess we’ll see who’ll be wastin’ whose money.”
“Let’s proceed,” said the judge. “I don’t see why this should take too long. Mr. McGarrity, call your first witness.”
“I’ll only need one,” said McGarrity confidently. “And that’ll be Mrs. O’Hara herself.”
Mrs. O’Hara made her way up to the witness box, took the oath and then settled in. McGarrity approached her, an oily smile on his face.
“So is it true, Mrs. O’Hara,” he asked her loudly, bending over the witness box, “that young Sean Clendenan defaulted on a legal loan made to you?”
“It most certainly is true, sir,” she replied haughtily. “I gave him that money from the goodness of my heart” (several observers chuckled at this) “but he betrayed my trust and refused to repay the loan when it was due.”
“Is it true, madam, that Mr. Clendenan made some small payments on the loan along the way?” he asked.
“Well, yes,” replied Mrs. O’Hara reluctantly, “he made some small payments on the loan. And I even gave him an extension—out of the goodness of my heart, of course.”
“Of course,” McGarrity agreed.
“But it was to no good,” continued Mrs. O’Hara. “When the full amount was due, Mr. Clendenan could not pay me. And for that he deserves to go to jail.”
There was some soft booing from the observers but many of the jurors could be seen nodding their heads in agreement.
“Well,” said the judge. “It seems to me that we’re just about finished here.”
“Ah, but I’ll be thankin’ you to wait just a minute,” interrupted Mr. Mortimer as he rose from his seat. “Since I’m representing the defendant here, I’m sure that there’ll be no objection to me cross-examining the witness.”
“I suppose not,” said the judge grudgingly.
Mortimer strode quickly to the front of the courtroom. “So it’s Mrs. O’Hara, is it?” he said buoyantly. “Sure and I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Mrs. O’Hara.”
“I’m quite a prominent citizen in this village,” she replied haughtily. “So I’m not surprised that you’ve heard of me.”
“Oh, your fame is widespread indeed, Mrs. O’Hara. But there’
s just one thing people do say about you,” said Mortimer, inching closer to the witness box.
“And what is that?” Mrs. O’Hara demanded indignantly.
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, Mrs. O’Hara, but they say that you do tend to get confused these days,” said Mortimer.
“Me? That’s nonsense! I never get confused,” said Mrs. O’Hara, a shocked expression crossing her face.
“Ah, but that’s just the thing, isn’t it?” said Mortimer cheerfully. “People who get confused don’t always know that they’re confused.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mrs. O’Hara shot back.
“Well, for instance, sometimes people get confused about just who it is that they’ve been dealing with,” said Mortimer, the smile leaving his face.
“Never! I always know exactly who I’m dealing with!” demanded Mrs. O’Hara.
“That’s strange,” said Mortimer, “because I’ve heard just the opposite.”
Suddenly a huge sound came from the back of the courtroom as one of the large chandeliers came crashing to the floor. Mortimer jerked his head around and pointed to the back of the courtroom. “Say, what’s going on back there?” he yelled. Everyone in the courtroom immediately pivoted in his or her seat, trying to see where the sound had come from. At that instant, Mortimer faced toward Mrs. O’Hara and quickly moved his hand in front of her face and muttered a couple of soft words. Mrs. O’Hara looked surprised and blinked slowly two or three times.
A man shouted from the back of the room, “Don’t worry. It’s just one of the old light fixtures come tumbling down.”
“Well then, let’s get back to business in the courtroom,” grumbled the judge as he pounded his gavel loudly.
“Of course, your Honor,” said Mortimer. “Now, back to you, Mrs. O’Hara. I’ve already mentioned that there are people who say that you easily get confused about some things.”
“That’s a lie,” roared Mrs. O’Hara.
“Then I’m sure you won’t mind proving that,” Mortimer replied quickly. “Right now. In this courtroom. You say that you’ve got an outstanding loan from Mr. Sean Clendenan, but I’m not sure you even know who Mr. Clendenan is or what he looks like. To prove that you do, I’d like you to point him out in the courtroom right now.”
“Of course!” bellowed Mrs. O’Hara. “He’s right over…” But as she began to point, Mrs. O’Hara paused. For all of a sudden, everyone in the entire courtroom looked exactly like Sean Clendenan. Which was the real Sean Clendenan? She couldn’t possibly tell!
“You were about to point out Mr. Clendenan?” Mortimer said smoothly, leaning over the witness box to look right into Mrs. O’Hara’s face.
Mrs. O’Hara’s face turned even redder than usual. “But I can’t!” she protested. “They’re all…they all look like Sean Clendenan! There…no there!” Mrs. O’Hara pointed at one person after another, even some of the jurors. Then she whirled around to look at the judge. ”You!” she cried. “You’re Sean Clendenan too! You all owe me money!” She paused. “Oh my stars! What’s happening to me?”
The courtroom filled with gasps. The judge shook his head sadly. “Mrs. O’Hara,” he said, “I’m afraid that under the circumstances you’re in no condition to continue.”
McGarrity approached the judge quietly. “Your Honor, perhaps we should just dismiss the case…I’m afraid that my client…”
“Your client needs serious help!” roared the judge. “Case dismissed!”
Chapter 13: All’s Well That Ends Well
The next day, Katherine and Sean and their parents were all celebrating the remarkable turn of events in the courtroom. Everyone agreed that their good fortune had been amazing and that the day would have been lost had not the mysterious stranger come out of nowhere to act as Sean’s attorney. But when Katherine and Sean found themselves alone for a few minutes, they put their heads together and spoke quietly of a few matters they couldn’t share with their parents.
“When did you know that Mr. Mortimer was actually Shamus in disguise?” Katherine asked Sean in a whisper.
“I didn’t know,” replied Sean. “At least I didn’t know until the trial was almost over and the judge dismissed the case. I had no idea who the mysterious Mr. Mortimer was, although I realize now that I should have suspected it was Shamus from the beginning.”
“I realized it when Mortimer cast the spell over Mrs. O’Hara with the wave of his hand. When everyone else turned his or her head to look toward the back of the courtroom, I kept my eye on Mortimer. But it happened quickly and I almost missed it.”
“Exactly what did Mortimer—I mean, Shamus—do to Mrs. O’Hara?”
Katherine smiled. “He told me this morning when I was out walking in the glen. It was a “Duplicio” spell, he said. It makes everyone look exactly the same. According to Shamus, every leprechaun knows it, but they don’t get many chances to use it.”
“No, I don’t suppose they do,” said Sean, leaning back on his chair happily. “What else did Shamus tell you when you saw him?”
“He said that it was the least he could do, considering how much you helped him. You know…making him stand on his own two feet and expressing his love to Regan all by himself,” replied Katherine.
“And how is that going?” asked Sean.
“They’re as happy as can be,” Katherine said merrily. “And they say they owe it all to us.”
“And I owe you a great deal as well, Katie. I had given up and was ready to go to jail when you dragged me out into the woods to see Shamus. Who would have guessed that a leprechaun would end up helping us like that? And without you, I never would have met him. And then I would have ended up in jail and Meagan and I would have had to postpone our wedding forever. Oh, I don’t mind waitin’ a little while, you know. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t pay off my debt to Mrs. O’Hara, even though the case was dismissed. So Meagan and I won’t be marrying right away. Mum and Dad will be needin’ my help on the farm for a year or so as well. But the time will come when Meagan and I will be walkin’ down the aisle. Without your help, that could never happen. And that’s not all. If we had never run into Shamus, then Shamus and Regan would have never found each other. We owe it all to you, Katie, all of us.”
Katherine smiled. She knew Sean was right. And she couldn’t have been happier about it.
###
About the author:
A musicologist by profession, Terence O’Grady has written extensively on various musical topics, most notably popular music and the Beatles. He has also been interested in children’s literature and has authored a handful of middle readers and chapter books.
An Irish Tale Page 5