“Oh Rian, I know you can do this! You know Magan will be home tomorrow, and your Da on Saturday, we will all be here, and I know in my heart of hearts you will wake up and we will be whole again. I just know it.” His hand twitched again, and Katherine cried.
Dreams
Kareena was having trouble coping with her new life. She was unable to go back to work for four weeks after the procedure. This really put a damper on their financial situation. She needed to get back to work, but being on her feet all day was not a good idea under the present circumstances and Genna would not allow it.
The nightmares had continued. And each time the dream became more vivid. Always starting the same with the dark and then the shards of painful light, but now it morphed into that dark room again with the figure hidden behind the large object, she was hearing the voice calling her name from somewhere far away and it echoed again and again. Then she could hear a baby’s soft crying as if it was far away, and that faded too.
She thought about going back home, but what good would that do? Yes she missed Rian so terribly, she would not even admit to Genna how much. If she talked about it, it would only make the pain more real. She kept telling herself she had done the right thing, but in her heart she knew it wasn’t’ true. And she kept having an uneasy feeling; there was something in the air. She couldn’t quite understand what it was, she knew she had to get back to work, if she didn’t she would go mad. Next week she was going to be able to return to her job, she couldn’t wait. She needed to take her mind off these strange thoughts she was having.
Kareena had been back to work now a couple of weeks. A couple of times as she left work, she felt a presents that she could not explain it sent shivers down her spine. She had to calm herself, she was so jumpy lately.
After days of contemplation, and encouragement from Genna, Kareena decided to take a couple of courses at Broward Collage. She didn’t have much faith in herself when it came to higher education, but she felt if she took it slow she would be able to keep up. Since the abortion, she was feeling very tired and depressed. She was working nights. Genna explained to her that if she did something for herself it would boost her spirits, and make her feel better. So she gave in and decided to go. She always liked math and science so she thought she would start with something along those lines. Genna had already enrolled in nursing to further her own education. She had never been unsure of what she wanted for a career. Her Mom was a nurse, and Genna wanted to follow in her footsteps, she felt she owed it to her Mom’s memory, and she loved being around people and helping them.
So Kareena studied the literature and course study guide that Genna had brought home. She could only afford one class a semester. She was strapped physically mentally and financially. She never was interested in nursing. She was more interested in biology and genetics. Maybe somewhere along the way she might find out what made her tick. And she thought if she kept herself busy, she would have less time to think about him.
Today as Kareena was on her way to class that uneasy feeling came over her again. Maybe it was the dreams that were making her jumpy. She wasn’t sure, but each time she scanned the area to see if someone was watching her, she saw no one. She had to get a hold of herself or she was going to drive herself crazy.
Hope
It was July when Magan got the call that her brother was showing some improvement. She arrived at the Kerry Airport in Killarney on Friday. She made the long drive North on N71 and then West on N72 past Gortroe in her sky blue Beamer convertible. Her Da had made the arrangements for it to be waiting for her at the airport. She always kept a spare set of keys with her for occasions when she came home. She was very excited to hear of Rian's progress. Although he wasn’t fully awake, he was showing positive signs of regaining consciousness. The prognosis was good.
She had seen her brother in March during her last trip home after the accident. Her first reaction was to leave the room. It was such a shock to see him like that. He had always been so full of life and at that time his prognosis was grim. She had stayed a week and finally used the excuse that she had to get back to her studies. It wasn’t entirely true. She missed her brother, but couldn’t bear to see him unresponsive any longer.
As she drove down the narrow lanes through the countryside in County Kerry, she recalled the disagreement her brother and she had the last time she saw him, before the accident. It was during Christmas break. He was so preoccupied that he hardly noticed she was there. When she spoke to him he gave her curt replies as if she no longer was a part of his life. She didn’t like seeing him that way. It wasn’t the brother she knew and loved. Where was the boy who would chase and tease her, the one that would make her life miserable, she missed him?
Magan knew it was that yank bitch that turned him against her. She was glad Kareena had died. It’s too bad the baby hadn’t died too. As her father said, you should never mix blood. The child will probably be daft. She wanted nothing to do with it. It was the cause of her brother’s accident. But her Mum was very excited about the whole prospect of having a new member of the family; she never had the same standards as her father. Megan always took her fathers side in an argument about the purity of their blood, and believe me there were plenty of those around the dinner table. Rian was inclined to side with his Mum on the subject.
She passed the Catholic Church where the family attended Sunday service while she was growing up. It was a field stone building with eight beautiful stained glass windows. There were three on each side, and two in front. Magan remembered when the steeple had been erected. She was seven. The cross that had stood above the church on a tall steeple had been blown down by a terrible storm and part of the roof ripped away. Magan had cuddled in her Da’s arms that night. He rocked her and stroked her hair and soothed her with a soft Irish lullaby.
She never forgot the next day her Da drove around the valley and gave a lift to all in need. He made sure every able bodied hand was there to help the church. He rolled up his sleeves and helped dig those stones out of the ground himself so that the town folk could replace the roof and build a steeple that no storm could ever destroy again. And there it stood in all its glory, just as beautiful as the day it was built. She missed those Sunday services.
The church near Oxford where she attended class had no charm to it. It was stark and cold, and the priest had no personality. She missed Father O’Malley he was her favorite. Father Donavan was good but no one could replace father O’Malley.
As she drove around the next bend Old Man Fletcher was walking his daily five miles. Ever since Magan could remember he walked two and a half miles each way to church and back. Mrs. Fletcher had died many years earlier and Old Man Fletcher would walk to the church, place a coin in the box and light a candle for her. Now that was true dedication, oh how he had loved her. To find someone that could love her like that, that was one of Magan’s goals. She stopped the car and asked if he would like a lift back home.
“Oh no, thank you very much for the askin Magan! It tiz so nice to see you. How’s your brother doing now? I was saddened to hear of his accident. We are all praying for his speedy recovery.”
“Well Mr. Fletcher, I’m very happy to report that we are seeing some improvement and are very hopeful.”
“Well that is indeed good news. Give your family my best now won’t you?”
“Thank you Mr. Fletcher, I will. Good day to ya!”
“Good day child!”
She turned left into the road that led to her Granda’s estate and took in the smell of Lough Leane, the lake that bordered the estate to the south. She could feel the change in temperature as she drove beneath the huge sycamores that cascaded over the lane, and allowed just enough light in to make the sight almost magical. Yes it was good to be home. She was looking forward to the day Rian and she would once again walk this lane and chat. She had so much to tell him.
As the tires crunched onto the cobblestone circular driveway Magan could see Desmond waiting for her at the ma
in entrance. She got out and stretched her legs. Desmond took her bags up to her room.
Desmon and Teresa were the live in help, Teresa saw to the cleaning and cooking, and Desmond oversaw the grounds and daily upkeep of the estate. Magan entered through the large wooden double doors, her mother was there to greet her. Katherine gave Magan a warm embrace.
“Welcome home Magan.”
“Hi, Mum, how are you?”
“Much better, now that Rian is coming around. It’s been a very trying time for all of us Magan, I hope that the worst is behind us.”
“Aye, Mum, I do too. Can I see him?”
“Wouldn’t you like to freshen up and have a bite? Teresa has prepared a wonderful lunch for us.”
“No, I’d like to see Rian first.”
“Ok, then, come.” As they entered through the foyer they made there way up the grand horseshoe staircase that had been built by master craftsmen. Magan grasped the mahogany hand carved rail that led up to Rian’s room. And apprehensively ascended the stairs.
Stranger
Kareena had taken a hostess job at a local luxury resort and was helping with the set up. The event was being held for M.G.R.A. Molecular Genetics Regeneration Association. Kareena had specifically taken this job because the convention subject matter was of great interest to her. Scientist flew in from all over the globe. They were expecting four hundred and sixty five guests.
Kareena was just beginning her third semester at B.C. She had earned 2 credits to her surprise, and was really enjoying her studies. She found that she was really good at something and it bolstered her confidence. The money from this catering job would allow her to take one additional class and she was beginning to think she might someday earn a degree. She loved the cemetery that she felt in the lab. It gave her the sense of order she so desperately needed.
She had been asked out on several occasions, and had accepted a couple of invitations. But no one could hold her interest. She most often used the excuse that she was to busy or too tired. The truth was that she never met anyone that could live up to Rian McKay O’Connor. She was able to think of him in this way now. It didn’t hurt as much when she referred to him using his full name. It even brought a smile to her lips now and then. She hoped he was doing well and even thought about calling him occasionally, but then always thought better of it. After all he must be getting on with his life since he never tried to contact her again, and she too was getting on with hers.
The Guests were starting to arrive, and Kareena was putting the final touches of Hibiscus flowers around the chaffing dishes. She suddenly felt that strange sensation again as if being watched. A chill slowly creped up her spine, she turned and scanned the room which was quickly being filled with bodies. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so she turned back to the task at hand. ‘I must be loosing it.’ The dreams had subsided and she hadn’t had one since her first semester in school. But that one had been more vivid than any before.
The blackness had come as usual, but the shards of light were not as bright, and the pain not as intense. The shadow was no longer standing behind the unidentifiable object. He was out in the open now, but his face was indiscernible. The screaming was barely audible. Now she heard only a gentle voice telling her that everything was going to be alright. Then he faded away and she could smell the sweetness of a child and here it’s soft breathing. That’s when she woke. She tried to tell herself it was just her guilty conscious over the abortion, but something still haunted her.
Nakoma gazed across the crowded room and her eyes came to rest on the most exquisite creature she had ever laid eyes on. She was wearing a black sleek evening dress that accented her perfect petite figure. It was plain but stunning. The girl was placing Red Hibiscus flowers on the table. As she turned the women’s pulse quickened. This child was the image of Jacob, she had the same deep brown eyes, and her hair was the same shade of brown, and held that same beautiful shimmer. Nakoma was drawn to her.
A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped with a start. Kareena was so deep in thought she had never heard the women’s approach. As she turned Kareena came face to face with a stunning woman in her mid 40’s, she was wearing a floor length royal blue silk evening gown and Kareena couldn’t help but feel that chill again.
She spoke slowly to the woman. “May I help you?” The woman looked at her with the warmest caring eyes that Kareena had ever seen. It felt so strange. She didn’t say a word only stared.
Again, Kareena asked. “May I help you?” The look on the women’s face made Kareena ask “Can I get you something? Are you alright? ”
The women smiled and said “Oh no, I’m fine. As a matter of fact I’m better than I’ve been in twenty two years.” She smiled then turned and walked away.
Later that night Kareena told Genna the story of the strange lady she encountered at the convention. “Genna, I never saw her before in my life, yet she looked at me as if I was a long lost friend. It was really spooky, it gave me the creeps.”
Mystery Women
The work in the lab was going well. Nakoma Barrett had made a breakthrough discovery that would lead her closer to her goal. Their lab gave her comfort, and always took her back. She lay awake in her bed as she did many evenings while trying to fall sleep.
' Ah, my refuge. Even thought it only exists in my distant memories, I come alive when I allow my mind to drift back.
No one in the sixteen large rooms above would have dreamed that I would find solace in this dank dark space that held this season’s potato crop, with Just a few strategically placed single low wattage light bulbs completing the ambiance I so desperately sought. I observed with wonder all the mason jars filled with the food we would need to once again endure a cold and bitter winter in the hills of Appalachia. How I hated those long dreary days and nights trying to find any warmth that would comfort the bone chilling cold my body reacted to by some sort of revolt.
Winter always found me wondering those huge rooms above me, searching in vain for a sunbeam to trickle through a windowpane just to warm my nose or hands for a few precious moments. Knowing with the cold would come the sickness and misery I suffered through year after agonizing year. Being born into and breathing the coal dust took its toll on so many. And I had to shoulder my share of the burden for being a coal miner’s daughter.
I warmed myself behind the wood stove in the kitchen corner where warmth flowed when my grandfather prepared breakfast of fried apples from the trees scattered throughout the property they leased. I could smell the bacon or sausage from the pig sacrificed in late fall, fresh eggs from the hen house I so loathed and homemade biscuits, butter, jam and apple-butter my grandmother canned for the year.
I was always afraid in the confines of my Grandparents house in the winter months, though I so enjoyed excavating it’s hidden treasures in the summer. With so many rooms all lacking comfort or personality in the later months of the year. There were eight doors off a long hallway that were all once filled with my aunts and uncles and the sound and joys of squabbling siblings. All were gone now and Mamaw left them empty shells of themselves and it was almost as if the rooms missed the children as much as she did.
I remember one particular bedroom long ago abandoned by her offspring my Grandmother used for storing nothing but home made heavy and beautiful quilts. The quilts served as our only source of heat during those long cold months. She would pile them one on top of the other over my sister and I to keep us warm during the night. It also kept us from moving around much, which I later discovered is a necessary step in trying to keep frostbite off your nose by morning. Many of the rooms were functional in that they housed four poster beds and chiffon robes while others still had small metal framed beds and sparse furnishings.
Our room was small and backed up to the mountains’ edge where my grandfather had built the house for drainage and erosion problems. Our bed was one of the old ornate wooden ones. With a feather mattress and pillows and of course, layer after layer of
quilts.
My favorite piece of furniture in the spacious house was my grandfather’s player piano that bided it’s time and played gloriously when on special occasions I was allowed to touch it. But certainly never on a Sunday. Sunday’s were reserved for proper folks to attend one of several Baptist churches in the small hill side community. And worship in unison, with much wailing and “amending”. . .During the summer months the preacher would often partake in the saving of a soul and the occasional trip to the creek to baptize a lowly sinner who was finally admitting of their sins and misgivings. The preacher would hold their nose and bend them backwards into the water shouting Hallelujah’s and ”forgive this sinner Lord”, while the rest of the congregation would be singing and shouting in unison, grateful for the sinner’s passage into the holy sprit world of the almighty.
Scared the shit out of me every time I saw it! I thought God must live in the creek and to be saved he first allowed the preacher man to damn near drown you and then God himself would elevate you into his world of forgiveness and persecution should you ever wrong him again! I can’t begin to put into words how that observance scarred my recreational time at lakes and oceans for the rest of my childhood. I just knew God was lying in wait to try and drown me and make me a Holy Roller. No freaking thanks! NO way, no how!
My parents made a promise to each other that spring, that with a little luck and time they would improve on the conditions my sister and I had had to live in so far. My mother was determined that her daughters would have more than she had had and would be given an opportunity to advance beyond the inevitable life she had led where as a women you either married a preacher, a farmer, or the more than likely a doomed coal miner.
She didn’t share my Grandmothers memories of happy days growing up in the house in the holler! Her memories were of working and toiling and being suppressed. My father on the other hand was always content to stay in his beloved mountains, which he found both beautiful and tranquil and to take his chances as a miner eking out an existence rather than a living.
Humorlost (Humorlost Book I of III) Page 8