by L. E. Waters
“My troop was invited to guard William St. John’s party two nights back. I was trying to keep my eyes and ears open, when none other than Lieutenant Lucas walked in. St. John went to greet him like an old friend, and the two of them had a long discussion out of earshot.”
I’m quiet.
“It all makes sense. He’s paying you back for what you did to his father. He hired that boy to be his go-between, and now he’s forced to meet with him in person.”
“But he was there with us in the house when we were ambushed. He got shot.”
Alister sits back. “He probably thought they would’ve killed you all quickly, and what better cover than to be there too?”
“I don’t know; it doesn’t sit right.”
“You’re not seeing what’s right in front of you. Here, was William close to this boy?”
I nod.
“And did William know you’d be on that road the day of the roadblock?”
I nod.
“Did William know about meeting at the house?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing, he knew. And didn’t he tell you to take that carriage from the ferry? Plus he met with Lucas that blazing night to confirm that you were after it? This William’s a blue lookout.”
I take it all in. “I better go have a talk with him, then.” I go to slide a pouch over, and he pushes it back toward me.
“No, I did this as your friend, Redmond.”
“I’ll have none of your slack-jaw, soldier. Take this money.”
But he just smiles and walks out.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
I gather everyone back at camp that night. I start, “What I am afraid to hear I’d better say first myself. We all know there’s a bad member here among us.” Everyone looks around at each other. “I hate to think it, but it’s plain to see.” I take a breath and stare at William. “I hear Lucas attended your party.”
Everyone makes some sort of noise at the surprise, but William keeps his eyes on mine. “He did come to my party, but I didn’t invite him.”
Cahir speaks. “Did you talk to him?”
He glares at Cahir. “Why, then, I did talk to him.”
Everyone’s in an uproar I put my hands down to quiet them. William starts to speak,
“When I saw him come through the door, I decided it might be a good idea to talk to him, try to find out who might be meeting with him.”
Art shrieks, “Likely story, St. John!”
That’s the first time anyone called him that for a while, and it seems like it struck a nerve.
William turns back to me. “Do you think me a stag? That I’d inform on you?” He looks deep in my eyes. “Why would I be the snitch when I got myself shot and almost killed in that house?” He holds up his tied-up arm.
“I don’t know, maybe you had some kind of deal or something?” I give away my uncertainness by making it a question.
“Look.” William’s getting upset now. “I didn’t need to stay with you all. I could’ve gone back right after you released me to go to Lucas, but I didn’t. I fought with you all. I gave you the best tips for the fattest purses. I’ve risked my life along with you all for years! If I wanted to get some kind of revenge, why would I wait this long?” After he speaks, he puts his thumbnail in between the space in his teeth, deeply anxious.
He’s right; he wouldn’t have waited this long if ’twas revenge from the kidnapping.
William keeps going. “So you all figured out a way that makes this sound like me, but every one of you knew Rory, and many of you had the opportunity to go meet with Lucas after I told you all about the carriage that night.”
He’s right again; they all had access to the boy, and all went out in the day that Captain was taken.
“Redmond, you’re not actually listening to this Gobshite!” says Art. “What would the cat's son do but kill a mouse?”
“Well, then, if you did talk to Lucas, how come you never told any of us about it?” Ned asks.
“Because I didn’t get anything out of him! He talked incessantly about being brought up in rank and could I put a good word in for him. I said, ‘Not until you’ve caught O’Hanlon,’ and he laughed and said, ‘All in good time, all in good time.’ Do any of you think that’s newsworthy? I forgot all about it when I heard that Captain was taken.”
I can tell the others don’t trust him anymore, and I realize I shouldn’t have done this in front of everyone. I look in his green eyes, and I don’t see a touch of guilt or deceit. I know I have to prove to everyone that he can be trusted again.
“If it’s true, why would William have waited so long for revenge? Doesn’t make a bit of sense, not one bit. I believe him when he says he didn’t give information to Lucas, and I trust William.”
Some nod, and some look away.
“Well, on a whole other subject, there’s the fair in Banbridge tomorrow, and we all know the gents and ladies that come back are loaded with money and prize animals.” I give a stern look around and say, “And I won’t be telling anyone which road I’m going to wait on for my health!”
Cahir looks up. “You want me and Art to come, then?”
I almost agree but see William sitting there, deflated. “No, Cahir, I think I’ll bring William to help me, to show good faith.”
William glances up. “I’ll be glad to come help you, Redmond.”
Cahir lets the air whoosh from his mouth in an exaggerated way, causing his whole body to blow back. “You’ve got a death wish, Redmond. We might as well be whistling jigs to a milestone.”
“Don’t take me up till I fall, Cahir.”
“Oh, very well, let you take what you’ll get. Let’s go, then Síofra. It’s like my ma always said, ‘Don’t give cherries to pigs or advice to fools.’”
Síofra gets up to go with him. “God be with you, O’Hanlon.” Then she gives a curious look to William. “Take care of him, William.”
They leave, and Art leans in. “I’ll come with you and keep an eye on things.” He glances at William.
“Fine, then, you and William, come with me, and we’ll leave at dawn.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
’Tis a beautiful spring morning. The dew’s thick, and the birds are already out singing. I lead them to the spot I want in Hilltown, right on the other side of the mountain so we can surprise those coming over. We make such good time even going uphill that we have half a day before the fair’s even finished.
“William, go check to see if that cottage is occupied.”
William hops off and walks down the hill to knock on the door. After a moment, he kicks the door in and yells, “All clear!”
Art and I take our horses down slowly, and William says, “It looks like someone hasn’t been here in a while. The cot’s full of dust and dirt, and there’s no food to be found anywhere.”
“Well, I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I could pass the time with a nice nap.”
Art says, “It’s too dangerous for us all to nap at the same time in these parts, so we should stand guard for each other.”
“True. We’ll go hide our horses behind the house, and we’ll let William take the first watch.”
William agrees, heads outside to hide the horses, and I hear him sit outside with his back to the door. I search around, see a pile of wool blankets, and hand two to Art. I get between the blankets and close my eyes. Something moves, and I open my eyes to see Art staring at me.
“I just can’t close my eyes with him out there.”
“If I can trust him, then so should you.” I roll over and close my eyes again.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep, but footsteps behind me cause me to wake up. I start to slowly grab for my pistol under the blanket, and once I have it in my hand, I spin around with my pistol up but take a blast to my gut. I look back up in shock and see Art at the end of the carbine.
I can barely breathe, and my whole stomach’s on fire. �
��Art, you sold me?”
Hearing the gunshot, William bounds through the door and fires but misses. Art runs at William, hitting him in the head with the butt of the gun, knocking William to the ground. Art escapes out the door.
William moves toward me, and his green eyes connect with mine as I try to catch my breath. I laugh and say, “See… I knew it wasn’t you.”
William laughs slightly and tries to look at my wound. His face tells me I have only moments left. He picks my head up and puts it in his lap, and I try to talk through my shallow breaths and pain.
“An oak is often split… by a wedge from its own… branch.”
“I shouldn’t have left you. I should’ve known.”
“Never mind that all.” I wave a hand feebly in the air. “Promise me one thing, William.”
“Anything.”
“As soon as I take… my last breath… I want you to take my head—”
“Take your head?”
“Listen. I’m sure Art’s… on his way right now to Lucas somewhere… close by. Once he… gives him this location… they’ll swarm the place. I don’t want them to get… my head. I don’t want it put… on a spike for my ma… to see.”
He starts crying without noise, just quick tears streaming down his face. “Why don’t I put you over Ghost and bring all of you back?”
“Because… you’re going to have… to fly from here. They might be waiting… all over these roads.”
I have a terrible sharp pain, and my head’s getting dizzy. “Promise me, William…! Take my head… and hide it somewhere… Lucas can’t find it!”
“All right, All right, I’ll hide it.”
“Good, then… as soon as I’m gone… wrap and run… and be sure to… take Ghost with you.” I relax a bit and I seem to be going numb. “You know… I almost shot you… and your father… fishing in the Cusher?”
“What do you mean?”
“You must’ve been… only eight or nine but… I snuck up to shoot… your dad and out… you splashed and… I just didn’t feel like… taking two lives that day.”
“Should I thank you for not murdering me?” He laughs through his tears.
“I… want to say…” I start losing my vision and my voice slows, “Sorry… I… ever… doubted… you… O’Sheil.”
His tears hit my face, and I feel myself fading. My breathing slows and then stops. The world goes dark.
Epilogue
I clutch for the hole in my stomach, and I’m happy to find it gone. I open my eyes to the glow of the same sunset, as whales breech on the shoreline and spew water spouts behind me. Flocks of small birds fly together and shape-shift like fish in the sea over the dunes. I close my eyes and listen to the soothing sounds of the ocean and the seabirds.
It could have been five minutes, or it could have been five years that I sat there. I understand now how Zachariah said time didn’t exist here. I lie back on the worn vinyl seat. Zachariah waits a moment and then ventures, “Are you all right?”
I let out a long exhale. “This going back and forth is getting harder and harder.”
He only nods.
“In the beginning, it was a shock to open my eyes and see another body, but when I come back into the body I know so well, know as me, it feels foreign, suddenly.”
Who am I now?
He gazes out the window as if staring at something far off in the distance. Something I cannot see. I start to wonder if he has heard me at all, when he surprises me with an answer.
“It is important you feel your soul instead of see your soul.”
When he speaks it’s as if his words are thick and heavy—strung together with molasses. Every sentence, every word has to be digested slowly, for fear I might miss something profound. Something incredibly valuable. I swallow each word and try to absorb what he means.
How can you feel your soul?
“Before you touch my arm, I have no idea what I’ll see next, and suddenly I wake up in another body—another world.”
“Scary and intriguing at the same time,” he remembers. A glimmer of wistfulness flashes in his eyes.
“I feel instantly attached and completely submerged, and then just as quickly, I’m pulled away. Like a whole world exploded and disappeared right before my eyes.”
“Soul whiplash.” He sums it all up in two words.
“That’s exactly what it feels like.”
Silence settles in around us and causes us both to shift in our seats. He points to the old beach house and opens his creaky car door. “Come on.”
I grab the old car handle, which takes quite a bit of pressure to release. We walk together on the top of the dunes, following a narrow pathway, with the long grasses reaching out and tickling my arms. Summer seems to be ending here, the wind chases away all remnants of the hot sun.
I try to fill the space between us. “Does everyone have a famous life?” I think of Lucrezia and Redmond.
“The odds are that after a certain amount of lives, you’re bound to have one or two. It is a whole other lesson when you choose to be someone in the spotlight. There are benefits to fame, but you have seen there are many pitfalls to it also.”
We reach the beach house and walk up the sandy steps that lead to an extra wide wraparound porch littered with chipped white rocking chairs. Zachariah walks to the farthest end and chooses a chair overlooking the quiet bay.
“Did the captain ever make it to shore? What about Bella? Oh, please tell me that she made it.”
He shakes his head, unyielding. “You will have plenty of time to find out those answers later. Right now we have to stay focused.”
Focus. It’s so hard with all the questions cropping up in my head.
“When I was inside Edinburg castle, I had an over whelming feeling of déjà vu, but I’d never been in that castle before?”
He pauses a moment to search his memory. “The rich, ornate furnishings reminded you of your previous life in Italy. You will find the more lives you live, the more moments you will feel that nostalgia.”
“Is it possible to remember a past life while you’re alive?”
“It is possible, and some people are very impressive with what detail they can recall, but for the most part, people remember little of the lives they led before. Although, many times, young children have been known to remember details of the last life they lived, but it usually disappears by the time they are four or five.”
“I thought you said, though, that full consciousness is harmful if you access it within a life?”
“The small amount that people might remember doesn’t cause any harm.”
I raise my eyes to look at the sky-blue-painted bead-board ceiling to think. “So this is the life I learned devotion to a higher cause?”
“A larger cause. You can’t really say thievery is a high cause.” He laughs.
“William, or Pepe, picked us this time? Over St. John?”
“Yes, he chose you this time.”
“Is that why I didn’t completely trust him? Some leftover feeling from abandoning me in the last life?”
Zachariah moves his head in agreement. “It was residual.”
“That was the first time he’s left us… left me.”
First, but not the last.
“We are all on our own path. This can bring people together as well as split them apart.”
Thinking of splitting, I ask, “Who was Nessa? Was she new?”
“Yes, she was new in your life, but not to Pepe.”
“Oh, so he knew her from before.” I understand a little more.
“Although you have a group that incarnates with you, that doesn’t mean those in your group don’t have others as well.” He emphasizes these last words with his brows raised in a Mister Rogers’-message-sort-of-way.
Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the jealousy from setting in. I don’t like the idea of the people I’ve become attached to being attached to other people. I rock myself back and forth, and the sound of the sw
aying on the planked porch is soothing. He rocks his chair in time with mine.
“Those dreams I had about drowning and watching a boy drown with me. That was residual from the last life too?”
“Trauma tends to stay with you subconsciously.”
“I even said Andres.”
“You tap into your subconscious much better than some.”
I start chuckling. “I even named the captain, Captain again.”
“I couldn’t believe it when you came up with that.” He cracks a smile.
“That cross Captain ripped from Harry was the very same cross Carra stole from him in the previous life.”
He nods. “You will see certain objects reappearing. With each life you lead, the more attached you’ll get to objects, songs, people, and places.”
“So was being devoted one of the big lessons?”
“That was the second big lesson. At first, you were devoted to the wrong people; then, you were devoted to the right people; and lastly, you were devoted to a larger cause. A cause that reached beyond your own selfish pursuits to try to bring change or ease the suffering of many people.”
“So I’ve learned two big lessons now, sacrifice and devotion?”
“Right. Can you see any other smaller lessons you might have learned in this life?”
I think for a moment. “I learned to trust people, but I guess that got me in the end.”
“Well, it’s good to trust people, even if they let you down.”
I let that sink in a bit, but something inside fights its absorption. All the faces of O’Hanlon’s life flash through my mind’s eye, until it stops on one picking his teeth. “I learned how to get my facilitator pretty good.”
He laughs. “Yes, you might have gotten him good a few times, but he was behind Art murdering you.”
He steals the breath from me. “He set Art up for that?”
“You never noticed it, but Art held great jealousy of you your whole life: his parents died; yours were relatives of lords; you were sent to school; you became a leader; you got Muirin. I think the last straw was that he held you responsible for her death. He felt if you had come, she would have recovered. Lucas approached him by chance right after.”