The Great Fury

by Thomas Kennedy

  “Understand what dad?”

  “Well for example that you are of Otherworld and they fact that you took near forty years to reach the age of sixteen or whatever age it says on that forged Irish passport they gave you.”

  “Did I?”

  “You know you did son.”

  “But I was fifteen a year ago.”

  “Your mother knows these things son. She says you started ageing like normal after you reached puberty.”

  “I...? Oengus began.

  “You were a long time a child Oengus.”

  “Was it magic?” Oengus asked.

  Oengus magic is powerful but it can be a curse. And these people in strange parts like America don’t believe in the magic. They will try and explain you if you let them. So don’t.”

  “Don’t worry dad. I’m being met in New York and I’ll be ok.”

  “I don’t trust your Uncle John.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Remember there will be no luck in living forever. To know everyone you know will die before you and to watch those you love become enfeebled. You may lose respect for life and for other people.”

  “I don’t think so dad.”

  “Just remember son that power corrupts. You have a power. What it is may be is not known to us or to you but beware, don’t let it corrupt you.”

  They found him an ATM Machine and he used his card to take out five hundred Euro. He’d insisted his mother take four hundred and kept the balance to get him through the airport.

  “Keep a pure heart and remember we will always love you,” Bridget said as he boarded the bus.

  Chapter Seven

  The United States border pre-clearance facility at Shannon Airport is in a two storied seven hundred thousand square meter extension to the main terminal.

  Oengus walked through it in awe. He had been as far as Dingle and he’d toured the world on the Internet but he’d never been physically inside anything as impressive as this.

  His bus had taken him to Dingle where he’d boarded another bus to Tralee and from there he’d taken the train to Shannon. Not a long journey as the crow flies but his dad’s ancient ford car was now vintage and had not been risked for the journey.

  However, he’d enjoyed the adventure of finding the route himself.

  Danu had given him a wallet of documents. The wallet could be strapped around his middle for security. Otherwise he was travelling without baggage, just the warm green cloak about his shoulders and the usual jeans and sweater. “The documents are real, that’s what makes them such good forgeries,” Danu had said as she showed him the contents of the wallet.

  He saw a sign for the airport ATM and it said ‘dollars and euro.’

  He took out a thousand dollars and slipped the notes into his wallet.

  “Will I have to pay it back?” he’d asked.

  Danu had laughed her delightful laugh and assured him that the gnomes in Zurich would take care of everything. “No darling,” she said, “Just don’t abuse it or give it to somebody else. It is yours and is the credit card of a Swiss bank. It should be good to go anywhere on earth for any amount.”

  A woman dressed in the green Aer Lingus uniform took his ticket and documents. It was then that Oengus remembered that he was supposed to buy and wear gloves.

  Danu had been coy but she’d said, “If you touch a woman anywhere, even on the hand she will have feeling for you. Be careful with your powers.”

  Embarrassed he’d laughed it off saying “Kerry girls weren’t like that. And they’d hardly let the likes of me touch them.”

  “But,” Danu had countered. “Now you have been given back to us you will come into your heritage. Believe me you don’t want to upset girls.”

  “Why ever not?” he’d asked.

  “Hell hat no fury like a woman scorned.”

  “Oh, ok,” he’d said to be agreeable. But inside he was churning. He was different. He had always known that. Kerry girls were afraid of him. And now he was asked to wear gloves so he couldn’t touch them. He felt sick but tried not to show it.

  As he handed over his documents the passport nearly slipped and their hands touched briefly as they stopped it from falling.

  “Well held,” she said.

  As far as he could tell there was no other reaction. Maybe, he thought, the stuff about gloves was nonsense?

  “You are under age?” she said on inspection of his passport.

  “I have clearance documents,” he replied.

  She examined his documents.

  “Keep these safe,” she said “and you will need them again when you get to pre-clearance. Any luggage?”

  “Just my wallet and the clothes I’m standing in.”

  As he spoke she put his documents into a plastic folder designed to be worn around the neck by underage passengers so they could be clearly identified.

  As she put the document around his neck their eyes met. She was startled to see that his were emerald green.

  “Have you ever been kissed?” she asked softly.

  “No,” he confessed, “Except by my mother.”

  “Just a small one,” she whispered. “My name is Angela.”

  “No tongues,” Oengus said with a nervous smile.

  He’d knew about kissing and tongues from the Internet but had never really understood. But Danu had mentioned no exchange of saliva in the event he might be kissing. Again he’d been too embarrassed to ask, but the warning scared him a little.

  Their lips brushed gently.

  The girl on the next reception desk had been regarding the young boy with interest and her eyes widened as she realized her friend Angela had just kissed a minor in a public place.

  “Angela!” she hissed, looking around and delighted that no one else seemed to have noticed. Thankfully there was no backlog as Oengus had arrived early for the next USA flight.

  Angela blushed. “I’m thirty and married with two children,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me...”

  “Young man go to your flight,” Angela’s friend said.

  “Which way will I go?” Oengus asked.

  “I’ll call a flight attendant to come and get you. As a minor you will be accompanied from this point on.”

  Angela blushed again when she met her friend’s eye and excused herself, “bathroom,” she said.

  “Sit young man,” the receptionist said firmly and indicated to a bank of seats. “I’ll watch out for you until the attendant comes.”

  “My name is Oengus.”

  “Angus, I am Noleen. Tell me is there anyone to meet you at JFK?”

  “Where?”

  “Kennedy Airport in New York.”

  “Yes, I believe a witch and her cat.”

  Noleen laughed. She liked a boy with a sense of humor.

  As an escorted minor with impeccable documents, the flight attendant escorted Oengus through the formalities and onto the plane without any delays.

  In New York she then took him through to the escorted minor pick-up station. She was surprised to see a red-haired girl with a cat wearing a simple red dress and smiling at them. The girl was a stunning beauty and people were stopping just to look.

  “This must be my pick up, she’ll have the documentation,” Oengus said.

  The flight attendant watched them go. She shook her head. Something about that boy had grabbed her. Was it his eyes? And his oddness in insisting he bought gloves in the Duty free? Still New York could be cold at this time of the year. Lucky he had that green cloak or he’d catch cold. She shrugged it off. She needed to finish the paperwork and get on with her day.

  “Interesting name,” the girl said. “Is it really Oengus?”

  “Yes and what is yours?”
r />   “Maedbh,” she said.

  “Is it true that you are an apprentice witch?” Oengus asked.

  “Do you mind if I put on my shoes? The floor in here is very cold.”

  “What?”

  “Oengus my instructions were to bring Venus my cat and to wear a red dress. I followed the instructions but now I’d like to put my shoes back on.”

  “Sure,” Oengus said agreeably.

  “Over here, I deposited them under a bank of seats.”

  The shoes were still there and Maedbh sat and put Venus on a side seat and then and put her shoes on.

  “Only a red dress?” Oengus asked, the thought striking him.

  Maedbh shrugged. “If there is one thing I’ve learned about magic it is that it is complicated. So if I get instructions I follow them fatefully to the letter.”

  “I’m sure meeting me did not mean magic. You’ll catch a cold.”

  “You could lend me your green cloak?” Maedbh suggested.

  “It’s my friend Puca Beag. He’ll shape shift to himself later. He actually hates being a cloak but it was the only way to get him through.”

  “I hated being in that overhead locker,” Beag whispered out of the corner of the cloak.

  “Ssssh!” Maedbh said urgently. “If you are a cloak, be a cloak even while we are in the taxi and out of here!”

  Oengus felt Beag shrug in annoyance but was pleased that Beag kept his silence.

  “Taxi?” a large man who looked official asked,

  “No thanks,” Maedbh said firmly and the man wandered on.

  “You said a taxi?” Oengus said.

  “The guys who come into the airport are scammers in my opinion. He’d probably leave off the meter and screw us.”

  “Really?”

  “Oengus this is New York. Get real.”

  “Sure.”

  “I live in Greenwich Village,” Maedbh added.

  “O.K. And I have a thousand dollars in my wallet.”

  “Keep it there and out of sight, we don’t want to be mugged.”

  “Sure.”

  “Just let me handle things Oengus. I want to get you home and then I can relax and change into something more comfortable.”

  “You look lovely,” Oengus couldn’t help saying.

  “Witches don’t do boyfriends or relationships,” Maedbh snapped. “And I am warned to be careful of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Oengus you will stay with me until we can get you on your feet. I don’t want anything complicated, understood,” she said firmly, meeting his eyes.

  “Sure,” Oengus said looking away, regretting having offered a compliment and feeling very put down.

  “Where’s your luggage?” Maedbh asked, noticing how he had withdrawn into himself.

  “I came as I am. I was told to buy what I need in New York.”

  “O.K. we’ll shop tomorrow,” she said, giving him a warm smile, worried that she’d put him down too forcibly. She reminded herself that he was a country boy with little experience, if any, of New York style girls.

  The Taxi took them to a beautiful row of Italianate houses in St. Luke’s place, Greenwich.

  “This is it,” Maedbh said and paid the fare.

  “Never tell anyone the number of your house, if you must, the street is sufficient,” Maedbh said leading Oengus to the next corner and to a house number four. “We’re in the basement,” she added.

  Oengus watched in wonder as Maedbh undid the several locks on the door. In Dunquin it was normal for houses to be unlocked. He did not know if his mother still had a key to the front door.

  Maedbh handed the cat Venus to Oengus while she opened the front door. His green cloak moved out of the way of the cat’s sharp claws. Oengus stroked Venus’s ear and she purred.

  “Put the cat on the couch and click on the electric kettle,” Maedbh said briskly as she let him in.

  Once again he watched in surprise as she re-secured and bolted the door while adding, “I’ll just go change.”

  Venus jumped out of his arms and went to her favorite spot on the couch. Beag shrugged off his shoulders and became an extremely ugly little man. Venus wrinkled her nose but otherwise ignored him. She’d seen Puca before and there was nothing remarkable about Puca Beag.

  Venus pressed the TV remote and Fox news came on.

  Maedbh stopped on her way to the bedroom. She decided to ignore the Puca until Oengus had the manners to introduce him properly.

  “Venus,” she said, “don’t be rude and please no TV while we are making our guest welcome.”

  “I don’t know how to cook an electric kettle,” Oengus began.

  “Just press the lever on the bottom, it’s already full with water,” Maedbh said kindly. As she finished speaking she went into her bedroom and closed the door.

  Oengus looked at Venus. Venus clicked off the TV. Then Oengus went into the kitchen area and clicked on the kettle. He found two cups in the top cupboard and some instant coffee but no sign of tea or a teapot.

  As he came back Venus stood and seemed to smile a cat-like smile.

  “Oengus you’ll soon get used to New York ways,” Venus said. “The teapot is in the lower cupboard, but I don’t expect we have any tea.”

  “Holy Saint Joseph!” Oengus said in wide-eyed alarm. “The cat just spoke!” In his alarm Oengus dropped the cups onto the wooden floor where they bounced but didn’t break.

  “Sorry,” Maedbh said, sticking her red head and bare shoulders around the bedroom door on hearing Oengus’s startled shout.

  “I should have introduced you two better,” she apologized. “Venus is a witch’s cat and can talk to magic persons.”

  “Hi,” Venus said, recovering her composure having instinctively jumped onto the back of the couch at Oengus’s reaction.

  “You speak?” Oengus checked the obvious.

  “You are of magic provenance so I can speak to you,” Venus explained.

  She felt embarrassed, being a New York sophisticated cat, and felt she should have been a bit more ‘cool’ in her reaction. But that said she was anxious that Oengus be made to feel at ease as their guest.

  “You said nothing at the airport?” Oengus remarked.

  “I don’t speak in public. All I do is meow. Normal humans hear a meow.”

  “But I’m normal,” Oengus insisted.

  Venus shrugged. “Can I turn on the TV? I love the cat food ads,” she asked.

  “Sure,” Oengus said and remembering his manners he added, “and let me introduce my friend Puca Beag, he’s a shape changing Puca.”

  “Hi!” Venus said easily. “I knew Puca mor, I think he’s a still poodle in San Francisco,” she said.

  “I’ve been sent to help Oengus in his mission,” Puca Beag said proudly.

  “Suggest Puca shape is a no-no. We are very tolerant in New York but extremely ugly naked dwarf like person is still conspicuous especially when naked,” Venus advised.

  “I have to be naked otherwise I lose my clothes when I shape shift.”

  “Suggest something more pleasing that would fit into New York,” Venus offered.

  “Such as?” Beag asked.

  “Pigeon, there are lots of inconspicuous pigeons in New York. You’d be lost in the crowd.”

  “Do you eat pigeon?” Beag asked warily.

  “I’d make an exception in your case,” Venus promised.

  “Pigeon it is then,” Beag said and flew up onto the top of a bookshelf.

  Maedbh reappeared wearing a sweater over a tracksuit. She was surprised to find Oengus putting a saucer of water out for a pigeon.

  “Is that the Puca?’ she asked.

  “Meet Puca Beag,” Oengus said with a touch
of formality.

  “Hi!” Beag said. “My friends call me Puca.”

  He had difficulty with the accent given the shape of a pigeon’s mouth but Maedbh understood and gave him a smile.

  “I’m afraid we’ve no tea,” Maedbh added.

  “Now that I’m in America I’d better get used to coffee,” Oengus said.

  “Good, I make a great instant coffee. Sit beside Venus and I’ll look after it. She took the two cups Oengus had retrieved from the floor and went back to the kitchen area.

  “You’ll sleep on the couch. You can take those gloves off, as the apartment will warm up soon. And no TV after eleven o’clock, I have to be up early for classes tomorrow,” she remarked through the open kitchen door.

  Oengus looked down at his gloves. He took them off and put them into a wastepaper bin he saw in the corner near Maedbh’s study desk. He felt satisfaction at taking control, and considered he was freakish enough without going about wearing gloves.

  Oengus took the cup proffered and braced himself to master the art of coffee drinking. Maedbh had rustled up a tray of salmon bagels. Venus was a fastidious eater and ate only the salmon. But she offered the bread to an appreciative Beag. Oengus was hungry and ate with relish, grateful for the tasty snack.

  Venus found a movie on the TV and they settled together on the couch.

  Chapter Eight

  Morag felt a shiver of excitement mixed with tension. It was over a hundred years since she had first left Ireland. Then it was just before the start of the First World War. Her passage had been in the hold of a steamer, cramped and reeking with the smell of poverty and desperation.

  Now she was arriving on a business class flight and feeling rested but anxious to get off the airplane.

  She rescanned her papers running her eye over them as she fidgeted, reassuring herself that they were all in order. Of course there was no mention of her profession as ‘witch’. It read as ‘Business Manager,’ and her visa backed this up.

  As she came through clearance the immigration officer found it hard to keep his eyes off Morag and her tall full figured frame set off with copper-red hair and green eyes. She bore herself proudly knowing she was descended from a long line of good-looking witches and this added to her striking appearance.