by D. S. Elstad
Waiting for Dad to wake up gave me time to sort through my thoughts. First thing on my mind was Grandma Shannah and the investigation. I couldn’t believe police would get involved in the death of an elderly woman without a pretty serious reason. There must be cases of people who appear fine one day then become ill and die the next. Then there was the whole situation with Dad and Grandpa and the fact that the two of them hadn’t spoken to each other for years. And what about the torn family portrait I saw at Grandpa’s house? Who was the other child in the picture? Did Dad have a sibling, and where was he or she now?
Then there were the two times I had seen the flash of movement, once at the hotel and once at Eagan’s house. Did that have anything to do with this and, if so, what? And if all that weren’t enough, what was happening to me physically and mentally? My dreams were becoming reality and the reality of my dream was that I had developed some sort of ability to shapeshift, and turn into a wolf. So this latest dream had me once again in Killarney Park, shifting from what had always been my known reality to this unknown one. Was this the same as the first dream, the one that started it all? Or was it a foretelling of the next shifting that I would do? Was this my Ihan’bla, as Mom called it, my vision quest? I rubbed my forehead as if that somehow would give my brain the answers it was searching for.
Looking down, I caught sight of the silver Triquetra hanging from my neck. I pondered the meaning of the symbol and how it fit into everything. While I sat there sorting my thoughts I grabbed a pencil and tablet from the nearby bureau. With my mind dancing around all the happenings of the last week I found myself doodling subconsciously, at times without even looking at the paper. When I finally glanced down at the tablet I saw, staring back at me the face of a wolf and in its eyes reflected the Triquetra.
The trance I was in was disturbed by my cell phone. It was Kelleigh. She was wondering about our plans to get together and mentioned that Bram had talked to Quinn and wanted to join us all. She had decided that, for my last night in Ireland (she didn’t know yet about my change of plans), we should start out at a cozy little coffee shop, and then go to a club to hear some live music. Dad was agreeable, so I made arrangements with them to pick me up.
After a long shower and change of clothes I was ready to get out of the hotel room for a while. I really wanted some fresh air and looked forward to a complete change of scene. I was excited to see Bram again and the thought of hearing an Irish group perform helped me put all the events of the day in the back of my mind.
“Hey Willow, you look quite nice,” Quinn complimented while spinning me around.
“Thanks Quinn, so do you,” I reciprocated, noting that he cleaned up well and looked older than his fifteen years. It was nice walking with him to the car, laughing and joking about nothing in particular…just being a couple of friends out for some fun.
Bram was leaning up against the car and smiled broadly when we reached him. He stepped forward and opened the door to the back seat.
“You don’t mind sitting in back with Bram, do you, Willow?” Kelleigh grinned and winked.
I tried to smile behind the rush of color I felt attacking my face. “Of course not,” I mumbled.
Bram looked amazing. He had on a rust-colored sweater that somehow brought out flecks of the same color in his eyes. His hair was still wet, from a shower, I guess, and was combed back with a small strand falling loosely over his forehead. Looking at him reminded me of the guys from the movie Grease, with their slicked-back hair. I scooted as far over to the side as I could in Kelleigh’s little car, making sure I gave him enough room to stretch out his long legs. Kelleigh backed out onto the road and headed into town.
“Are you ready to go back home tomorrow, Willow?” Quinn spun his head back and shifted his body so he could sign to Bram.
“Well,” I answered, “I need to tell you all something.”
Kelleigh raised her head higher to look into the rearview mirror. “Oh?”
“It looks as though I won’t be leaving tomorrow after all…”
“Wha –” Kelleigh turned her head to look back at me and swerved.
“Pay attention, Kell, I’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind, I don’t feel like landing in a ditch just now.”
“Why not, Willow?” he asked, signing to Bram, who then turned to face me.
“Dad and I were at Uncle Eagan’s today and the police came by and told them about an investigation into Grandma’s death.”
Bram immediately began signing back to Quinn and the two of them became engaged in a non-verbal conversation, with Bram periodically looking my way and nodding. I waited for a minute to let Quinn catch Bram up to the story, and then continued.
“So,” I began, “Dad decided that he needed to be here to try and figure out just what was going on. He wanted to speak to the police himself to see what kind of information they may have.”
“Oh my goodness,” Kelleigh remarked. “How is your dad, is he freaking out over it all?”
“Actually, he’s taking it pretty well, considering. He’s just anxious to get some answers and find out why the police believe there’s even a need for an investigation.”
“How much longer will you be staying then?” Kelleigh asked as she looked around, searching for a parking space at the coffee shop.
“Dad rescheduled our flight for another week. He wanted me to go home, but after we spoke to my mom, we all felt it was better that I stay here with him. Besides, I’ve only seen Grandpa once, the day of the funeral. I promised him I would come back and visit before we left. I’m hoping this will give him and Dad a chance to talk.” I looked over at Bram who was following the conversation via Quinn. He caught my eye and smiled, then reached over and gently touched my hand.
“You ok with all of this, Willow? I hope you don’t mind me knowing about it?” he asked.
“It’s ok,” I answered, lifting my hand and smoothing my hair behind my ear.
“I’m sorry that your dad has to go through this, Willow, but I have to be honest…” Kelleigh said, turning off the car’s ignition and opening her door, “I’m very glad you’re staying another week.”
“Me too!” added Quinn as he jumped out of the car.
I tried to keep myself from looking at Bram but couldn’t resist.
His eyes trapped me yet again as he mouthed, “Me too.” I self-consciously smiled and found myself lost in his stare.
Quinn knocked on the door. “C’mon, you two, I’m thirsty.”
The coffee shop was the perfect escape. The yummy aromas of espresso and chocolate filled the air of the small space and added to the cozy feel. We laughed and, for the first time, talked about things other than suspicious deaths and shapeshifting.
Quinn was his crazy self and Bram was so funny I often forgot that he was deaf. He told us jokes and stories about him and Quinn and all the trouble they’d get into. For the second time that day, I found myself laughing so hard it hurt. The two of them had such a great relationship in spite of the few years’ difference in their ages.
Kelleigh, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically quiet. She giggled at times but seemed preoccupied and lost in thought. I imagined that she was still trying to figure out the shapeshifting incident along with the truth behind Grandma’s death. I felt lucky to be related and was grateful that she was so helpful and concerned.
After we finished our drinks we headed out to a club called ‘The Whistler’ to hear a group that Kelleigh recommended. She had broken up with the guitarist but was still friends with him and thought I might enjoy listening to an Irish band. I was surprised by the club. I guess I expected it to be like clubs at home…not that I’d ever been to one, but I had a pretty clear picture in my mind of what they looked like. At home you’d have to be twenty-one to get into a place like this, but no one was checking IDs. In fact, there were people of all ages, not just teenagers but families and little kids.
There was one couple who sat cuddled in a booth with their little baby
. Another man, about Dad’s age, sat with twin boys about ten years old who were playing with their iPods while he visited with people sitting next to him. It seemed most folks had coffee or tea or soda. It was a very comfortable, family-oriented kind of place.
The band was just setting up their equipment as we grabbed a table. They had a keyboard, something like bongos, two guitars, a bass, and a microphone. Kelleigh went over to one of the guitarists and hugged him. She brought him over to our table and introduced him. His name was Sean Michael but he asked us to call him “Dutch.” He sat with us for a while then excused himself. Judging from the way Kelleigh was acting I got the feeling that she didn’t want to be broken up anymore.
The band began their set with some old U-2 songs that had the crowd singing along with them. I found myself joining in as well, and so did Bram and Quinn. Kelleigh just rocked back and forth to the melody refusing to take her eyes off of Dutch. The music was great and Dutch did an impressive job of matching Bono’s unique voice. Bram sat close to me and educated me on the latest trends in Irish pop music. It wasn’t even necessary for anyone to interpret for us, communication seemed natural and easy.
I watched as his eyes lit up while he spoke about music; he knew so much and could talk about any genre – pop, rock, classical, anything. Which then started me thinking, how can he know how it sounds? I mean, I could understand knowing the melody of songs from his childhood like Beautiful Day, which were around before his deafness, but how did he know what U-2’s Artificial Horizon sounded like? After all, that song came out after his illness. I studied his face while he observed the band, scrutinizing their every movement in relation to the music they played. Bram was like a sponge, absorbing every visual aspect of the band while they played.
Finally I leaned into him. “How?” I said, looking questioningly into his eyes.
“How? How what?” He furrowed his brows, looking between myself and the band.
“How do you know what the music sounds like?” I responded slowly, trying to enunciate each word.
He scratched his head and smiled. “You got me on that one, Willow,” he pounded the table to get Quinn’s attention.
“Quinn, ask him how he knows what that last song sounds like. It’s a fairly new song, how does he know how it sounds?” I’d hoped I wasn’t being too inquisitive. Quinn quickly shot several signs Bram’s way, then just as quickly gave me my answer.
“He feels it, he learns the words online, then feels the vibration through his stereo speakers. Plus, the lad’s observant as all get-out.” Quinn returned his attention to the stage.
Bram looked at me and motioned to come closer. “Let me show you.”
He pulled out his notepad and jotted something down, folded the paper, and handed it to Quinn. He then pointed to the band. Quinn frowned, then obliged and stepped up to the stage and handed Dutch the slip of paper. When they finished their song Dutch opened the note, grinned, and nodded at Bram. Bram stood up and reached out to me.
“C’mon, Willow,” he said, shaking his hand.
I rose hesitantly and followed him to the dance floor. There was no one else out there and the music hadn’t started yet. I felt really awkward until I looked up at Bram.
“Just follow my lead,” he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
The band counted down 3, 2, 1 and then Dutch began plucking at his guitar a soft, tender melody. His voice soon joined in with the haunting familiar tune…”I don’t know you but I want you all the more for that, words fall through me and always fool me and I can’t react.”
Bram placed his arm around my waist and held my hand up to his chest, pulling me closer. He leaned down and sang the first verse in my ear, swaying to the melody. He hadn’t missed a beat; his voice blended with Dutch’s perfectly, in sync with the melody of the song. “I don’t know you but I want you all the more for that, words fall through me and always fool me and I can’t react.” I then focused on his lips watching him draw out each memorized word and the note it carried. He was singing what was quite possibly one of my all-time favorite songs.
“Falling Slowly,” I whispered.
He nodded leading us closer to the speaker. “Close your eyes, feel the vibration passing through the air, let it encompass your body.”
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on vibration rather than sound, on feeling more than hearing or seeing. It was hard at first, but then I became acutely aware of Bram’s hand at my waist. His fingers seemed to have an energy that carried the melody. I then picked up on the reverberation of Dutch’s amplified voice on my back. My skin began to tingle, like it was becoming some kind of a receptor to all the sounds floating through the dark, cavernous club.
When the chorus began and Dutch harmonized with the other guitar player, my skin began to grow goose bumps. “Take this sinking boat and point it home, we’ve still got time…raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice you make it mine. Falling slowly, eyes that know me and I can’t go back…”
I opened my eyes and focused on Bram’s chiseled features in the dimly lit room. He was smiling. It felt as though we were the only two people in the world. We stood and stared at each other as the song came to a close, our eyes once again locked, our bodies swaying with the tempo. Cheers from the audience brought me back to planet earth as I grabbed Bram’s hand and led him back to our table.
Quinn and Kelleigh were both staring at us when we sat down.
“What?” Bram asked, beating me to the punch.
“Nothing.” Quinn smirked and focused his attention back on stage. Kelleigh grinned and raised her eyebrows.
Bram reached his arm around the back of my chair and pulled it closer to his. I had never felt like this before. There was something inexplicable about him, something so real and honest and familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it felt like I’d known Bram for a whole lot longer than just a few days. And suddenly I was very glad I wasn’t going home tomorrow.
Chapter Eleven
I woke to the sound of Dad taking a shower. I slowly sat up, running my hands through my hair, releasing the bedtime tangles, and smiled to myself. My mind was recapturing all the events of the evening before, leaving me feeling on cloud nine. Before I was able to truly get lost in my memories, the phone rang. It was Uncle Eagan.
“Good morning, darlin’, how are you this fine morning?” his muffled voice asked.
“I’m great, Uncle Eagan; how are you?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” he chuckled. “And how’s you dear father?” A tinkling sound came through the phone that left me picturing him stirring his cup of coffee.
“Uhm, well he’s in the shower –” I began.
“Don’t disturb him, darlin’; please just let him know we’re set up to meet with Detective Powers at 10:30 this a.m.”
“Oh, all right, does he know where to meet you?”
“Indeed he does. I’m happy to hear you’re going to stay on with your father. I hope I’ll be seeing you later…” Eagan’s voice trailed off as though he had been interrupted by something.
“Ok, Uncle Eagan… good-bye.” I jumped up, grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater, got dressed, and waited for Dad. After I relayed the message to him he suggested I stay at the hotel until he got back; he didn’t want me going to the police station. I was fine with that. I didn’t want to go either.
“Why don’t you give Kelleigh a call and go hang out with her?” Dad offered as he buttoned the cuffs on his crisp white shirt.
“Can’t do that, she’s at school until one. But it’s ok. I can find something to do around here.”
“Ok, Wils, I shouldn’t be too long, there’s some cash on the dresser if you want to go out.” Dad leaned over and kissed my cheek before grabbing his jacket and leaving the room.
I sat in my usual spot, in front of the window, plopped my feet on the window frame and began texting my friends back home. I had only talked to them once since I’d been here and wanted to make sure
and reconnect. I didn’t want them thinking I would be home when it was going to be another week before I got back.
Right in the middle of texting Sam, another call came in. I quickly finished my message and checked my inbox. It was Bram. Just seeing his name sent off the butterflies in my stomach. Knock it off, I ordered, it’s just a message. I anxiously read his text.
Hi WW, I’m done with class, u busy?
No, just hanging, dad has a meeting w/police
Want to get together?
I felt that all-too-familiar rush of color attacking my face again and was happy to be alone and unconcerned as to whether or not anyone saw it. I stared at his text for a few minutes, trying to decide what to say. Before I knew it my fingers betrayed me by typing an answer without even giving my brain time to process.
Sure, any suggestions?
I have an idea, see u ½ hour
K
I jumped up, headed to the bathroom and tried to regain control of my out-of-control hair. The humidity in Killarney was killer for the frizzies. Somehow I managed to get a brush through it and decided to just pull it all back into a ponytail and let it hang mid-back. I stared at myself in the mirrors reflection and turned my head this way and that, surprised at how much I resembled Grandma with my hair that way. I pulled the ponytail and draped it over my shoulder the way it had been in the pictures I’d seen of her. It was kind of a shock. I always knew I favored Dad, but this just reaffirmed it – and now I could see how much he resembled his mother.