Blackthorns of the Forgotten

by Bree T. Donovan

  “Do I have a choice?” he protested, his voice muffled by the thick material.

  “If ya want safely out of here, I’m afraid yer stuck with me, lad. Let’s get a move on.”

  Charlie led Gillean to the door, holding him tight, like a child he didn’t want to lose.

  Charlie successfully navigated the clutching crowd and whisked the fugitive performer into the back of the rented car. Gillean sat in dazed silence as Charlie worked furiously to master the clutch and gear lever for the open road.

  “The devil take this piece of machinery!” Charlie cursed, as the gears ground and his ill-practiced footwork sent the car into a series of quick jerks.

  “Where are you taking me?” Gillean spoke in monotone.

  “Beg yer pardon? Ah blast! I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve had to drive and…” He viewed Gillean through the rear mirror. His hair was mussed and his face pale, as if he had seen a ghost. “Are ya quite alright now?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m takin’ ya to the Vale, to Sully. Maybe then, Gilberto, you will be able to open up your arms.”

  Making the drive back to the Vale, Charlie concentrated on both the onerous roads before him–the physical one, and the even more difficult task of thoroughly explaining his identity to Gillean. The angel revealed all but one piece of information to the incredulous musician. He shared what he knew about himself, Sully and Ciar. He then made a snap decision as the road rose up to meet him, not peaceably as in the Old Irish blessing, but as a twisting path needing to be steered with the greatest of care. He believed it prudent to allow Sully and Adara the chance to explain to Gillean whatever they had come to decide for themselves.

  Charlie was more apprehensive than his mellowed passenger who accepted the jarring car ride to the one place he had resolved he would never visit. This was the only information about his past that Gillean shared during the journey.

  “Please explain something to me.” Gillean caught Charlie’s eyes through the rear view mirror.

  “I will if I can.”

  “You said this Sully was an angel, like you, but Ciar told me he has been with my wife as a man. Is this true?”

  Charlie redirected his eyes to the road.

  “Charlie?” Gillean leaned forward tapping the man’s shoulder.

  Charlie cleared his throat and offered an answer. “’Tis true. Sully was once an angel, but he is now a human—a man like you. How he came about his present state of existence is for himself to explain. But I will tell ya that he is as good a man as you would find in field or city. Considerin’ the nature of Ciar, I wouldn’t place much stock in what she said.”

  Gillean stayed over Charlie’s shoulder, growing more agitated the further they drove.

  Charlie reached around to pat Gillean’s hand. “Rest easy, Gillean. We’re almost there. I trust Sully should have the answers to yer questions.”

  ~~~

  “Don’t just stand there with yer teeth in yer mouth, lad.” Charlie was nudging a dumbfounded Sully who had risen nervously from the step upon seeing a strange car pull up to the cottage depositing Gillean Faraday. “I got him here, the rest is up to you.” Charlie said to both men, “I’ll give ya time to talk. I imagine ya both have a lot to say to one another.” Sully’s apprehensive eyes followed Charlie as he entered the cottage and shut the door without another word.

  “Is Adara here?”

  Sully was taken aback by the sudden impact of Gillean’s voice. “She went home.”

  Gillean’s eyes widened.

  “She’s home with yer children.” Sully wanted no more misunderstandings. It was too easy to get lost in what was not said, but assumed.

  Gillean closed the gap between the two. “What was it you said to me?” He was shaking as if a winter wind cut through to his bones.

  “I said Adara is home with—”

  “No!” Gillean yelled. “What did you say to me?” Sinking to the ground, he reached out to Sully.

  Sully intuitively placed his arms around Gillean’s waist, trying to hold him steady. Gillean’s shaking hand rested on Sully’s scruffy cheek as his eyes probed Sully’s.

  Gillean’s pain was like a thousand lashes of leather against Sully’s skin. He understood the question and translated the Gaelic phrase he once hoped would free Gillean’s entangled heart.

  “I said to ya, ‘a blackthorn has pierced yer heart, but I am the mate of yer soul. Look for my eyes and become whole’.”

  “And you are he, aren’t you?” Gillean tried to stand on his own.

  Sully nodded.

  “I sent you away in anger, but still you stopped her.” Gillean was on his feet again and facing the sky. “She tried to kill me. Ciar tried to take my life.” He uttered the words simply, as something he knew for a fact, like the names of the constellations.

  “Are ya still with her?” Sully rubbed the scar on his wrist.

  “I had left her even before Charlie explained to me about her true nature, and about you and him.”

  “What about me and Charlie?” Sully didn’t understand the connection.

  “You are both angels, well, you once were, and he still is.”

  “Charlie is an angel?” Sully staggered back at this unexpected revelation. “Son of a…”

  It was the mixture of mourning and love reflected in Gillean’s grin that Sully identified the delicate balance of his situation. He loved this man, but he would never again try to influence his decisions.

  “There was a good reason ya turned me away. Or have ya forgotten.” Sully averted his eyes in humiliation.

  Gillean remained calm. “I remember it all now. I suppose Charlie was right, we should talk.”

  Sully thrust the bulk of his emotions aside in one fell mental swoop. This was Gillean’s moment. “Come, let’s walk. I’ll hold nothin’ back from you. I give ya me word.”

  “Please,” Gillean said. “I just need to know if you love Adara, and does she love you? Is she the one you wish to be with?”

  Sully noticed the tallow candle set in the front window of the cottage—something Charlie had taken to doing every night that Sully had been with him. Realizing that he and the old man shared something even more unique than he was privy to until tonight made the flame that much more significant.

  “Adara is an incredible person to be sure. You and I are blessed to know her.”

  “And do you wish to be with her?”

  “Not in the way yer suggesting.”

  Gillean’s eyes sparked the same fire as the night Sully and he squared off in the study. “Do you wish to be with me, in the way I hope?”

  Sully lips turned up ever so slightly. “And what way might that be?”

  Gillean said nothing for several moments. Eventually, he spoke in a quiet voice which Sully was not accustomed to hearing. “My grandfather used to say that everything a man needs to know he can find by reading the stars.” He motioned with his hand to the sky, as if in salutation to his belated relative.

  “I believe that. But what granddad failed to tell me was that it’s just as important to pay attention to the messages in a person’s eyes. They show what is in the heart.” He looked at Sully. “Adara’s eyes hold a different look than yours. I didn’t see it before. I never noticed what she was trying to tell me. She was telling me, goodbye.” He started off for the lakes of his own accord.

  Sully followed close behind.

  “Funny thing is,” Gillean continued his ruminations, as he bent down to pick up a fallen tree branch using it as a walking stick. “I thought I was the one who was leaving her.” He proceeded towards the juncture where the two lakes met.

  Sully’s heart spilled over with love and affliction. Being human was like running naked into the rush of the ocean, the ecstasy of the white-blue waves crashing against the mortal body, and the incessant threat of being pulled under by the very thing that brought such rapture. “You did leave her, Gillean.”

  Gillean halted, but kept
his back to Sully. “Yes, but I thought it was because of Ciar. It wasn’t. I left because of what I saw in your eyes. It scared the hell out of me.”

  “What did ya see?”

  Sully wanted the truth—Gillean’s truth as if it were a river stone he could slip into his pocket, gliding his fingers over its smooth surface whenever he needed.

  Gillean shifted. His eyes, teaming with words were on Sully. “I saw myself, a ghost like something out of Dickens—stranded in a graveyard of long dead dreams. And all the stars had gone nova.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sully felt the stone had lodged in his throat.

  “Don’t be.” Gillean settled with a slight groan onto a knotty log nestled in the ground and pointed to the moon. “Now I know about Apollo 8.”

  “Oh?” Sully recalled the day he cast out the question hoping to reel in Gillean with it.

  “I did some reading on the subject,” Gillean explained. “December 21, 1968, the first time earthlings orbited a celestial body—the dark side of the moon. Quite an amazing happening. Did you know that the astronauts had not intended on going there? They made the trip by default. Their original mission was to test a piece of equipment, but it wasn’t ready.”

  “And yet there they were, in the right place at the right time in this entire vast universe,” Sully added.

  Gillean traced circular patterns in the dirt with his stick and took up his account. “The crew was busy with various mundane tasks when they happened upon an incredible vision. The earth was rising over the moon’s horizon. One insightful fellow thought enough to take some photographs. The first time human eyes had seen earth from space.”

  “Did ya see the pictures?” Sully asked excitedly.

  “I did,” Gillean confirmed. “Those men could see earth in a way that no one else had. Our planet was a meager, blue sphere hung in a sprawling galaxy. But they weren’t afraid of what they saw.” Gillean kept his eyes fixed on Sully’s face. “They saw more than our limitations. They observed that we are one, complete entity, not simply the many, little spaces we carve out for ourselves and believe to be so damn important.”

  “It’s been said they went to the moon, but discovered the earth,” Sully said.

  Gillean grabbed Sully’s hands. “They went on a journey looking for something else entirely, but what they found, was home.”

  “For someone not wantin’ to discuss space missions, yer pretty astute, Gillean Faraday.” Sully smiled with pride. He desperately wanted to be with Gillean, but he knew no matter what, his soul mate would be alright, more than alright. Gillean was free.

  Gillean’s fingers caressed Sully’s face with unspoken devotion. “You made me see, Sully. I spent my whole life out there on some misguided quest.” He angled his head towards the sky. “It wasn’t until I really looked into your eyes that I saw not only my long ago self, but who I could be with you. I found my home.”

  Sully examined the unguarded, dark eyes upon him and asked, “Yer not afraid anymore—of us or this place?”

  Gillean reached down, pressing his hand into the dirt. “Look at this beauty.” He held a crimson fist full towards Sully as if Gillean was offering his heart. “Red earth, right underneath our feet.”

  Sully chuckled. “’Tis the copper could make ya believe yer on Mars.”

  “And yet, here we are, in the right place at the right time in this entire vast universe.” Gillean’s thumb traced a streak of the soft earth onto Sully’s forehead, like an anointment of love. Then pressed his face to Sully’s and whispered, “This place is intended for two entities to intersect and merge into one another.”

  “Is that what we are?” Sully bit his lip against the kiss he eagerly wanted to offer.

  “It’s what we have always been, and will be.”

  Sully didn’t have to fight anymore. He let himself fall into the waves as Gillean’s hands laced through his hair; the moist, red earth blending with Sully’s dark curls. Gillean conferred his commitment with kisses as resonate and pure as the water that engulfed them. Kisses tasting of honesty, the pungent earth, stars, and love.

  ~~~

  Gillean stood next to the borrowed car which had been entrusted to his care with Charlie’s great relief.

  “Ya take all the time ya need with yer family,” Sully insisted.

  “Are you sure you won’t come too?” Gillean physically ached at the thought of being away from the man. The creative dam inside his head had burst. Music and lyrics came rushing forth. They were songs of love, gratitude and passion. “It would be wonderful to have you with me.”

  Sully shook his head. “You need this time alone with them. Ya owe Adara a nice, long conversation at the very least.”

  “Yes, I do,” Gillean acquiesced. “You’ll be okay here?” His eyes nervously swept the wooded homestead for any sign of a threat.

  “Of course. I’ll miss ya like hell, but me comfort is that you’ll be missin’ me too. Right?” Sully shoved at Gillean.

  He opened his arms to Sully who stepped into his embrace. “Promise me you’ll truly be alright.” He held Sully’s head against his shoulder. “What about Ciar?” He asked the unbearable question.

  “Sod her! I’ve got Charlie,” Sully replied blithely.

  “And me.” Gillean whispered.

  Sully released his grip, his eyes taking on an emerald hue as he addressed Gillean. “If ya should change yer mind, if ya come to find this is not what ya want, or yer family—”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me already?” Gillean dismissed Sully’s unrealistic concerns. His mind and heart were bound.

  “I’m just sayin’ I’ll be here no matter what.”

  “I’m glad, because I intend on coming back post haste. Faradays are stubborn like that.” Gillean jingled the car keys in his hand.

  “That come from yer grandfather too?”

  “Nope, my father, Milo Faraday was the most stubborn sonofabitch I ever knew.”

  Sully opened the door like a chauffeur waving Gillean into the front seat. “Go on now. Take this ridiculous car of Charlie’s, and be with yer family. Me and the old angel will be just fine.”

  Gillean took his seat and started up the gasping engine. “Wait for me.” He winked.

  “Always.”

  A wistful stillness settled over the woods, a respect for the holy alliance between two eternal souls. Sacred energy was encased within the confines of two mortal men, both desperate to stay connected and walk their path despite earthy limitations. Both looked to the stars, the heaven’s eyes for answers.

  The highway was empty. Not much traffic moved through the cluster of villages this late in the evening. Gillean considered himself fortunate to find a service station open. Exiting Charlie’s less than luxurious rental car to pump the petrol Gillean laughed outright. He was thinking that the old man, resourceful though he obviously was, probably didn’t know enough to make certain the tank was full when they had absconded from Cork.

  “Must be magic that we made it back to the Vale without having to push this old clunker,” Gillean spoke to the night, as the machine registered the gallons in a series of short clicks. He entered the brightly lit convenience store to pay for the fuel and grab a cup of coffee. When he reached the counter, a display of chocolate bars caught his eye. It had been years since he’d actually felt a hankering for chocolate. Upon discovering how fond of the stuff he was, his fans had continually supplied their beloved singer with gourmet offerings. He had received chocolate from all around the globe. Gillean had ingested so much of it that he no longer savored the taste. It had become something else he took for granted.

  Holding the small bar made by a local confectioner in his hand, Gillean had never craved this simple pleasure more than he did at that moment. He set the coffee and chocolate on the counter in front of a young man seemingly a few years older than Arlen. This lad was pure working class with a buzz haircut. His reddish scalp, ripped T-shirt, and various piercings were in complete contrast to the innocence
of his freckled face. It was obvious the youth was searching for something, rebelling against the norm.

  Gillean’s years of defiance offered him a view into the young man’s motives. He had once possessed the desire to be a blank canvas, open to the world throwing its colors onto him—thick, striking and messy. Now he was just a regular bloke, pumping his own petrol, buying a cup of store-brewed coffee and his own chocolate bar. He took out his wallet, grateful at being simply another customer.

  “That do ya then?” the clerk inquired. The name Bryan was printed on the tag pinned to his smock

  “Ya know, lad, why not give me a pack of the smokes too.” Gillean indicated the brand he wanted.

  “Right, ya are.”

  Bryan began to total the purchase, but stopped mid-way.

  “Hey, ya can’t be…No shite, but, are ya?”

  “Sorry?” Gillean attempted to dodge the obvious question.

  “Aren’t ya Gillean Faraday, the musician?” Bryan pointed as if he had stumbled upon a historical treasure.

  Gillean’s smile reverted back to the polite grin he wore for the public. “Yes, I am,” he half-mumbled, thankful that no one else was in the store.

  “Bloody hell, yer one of the luckiest blokes alive!”

  “How’s that?” Gillean hoped the youth would give him an honest answer. He truly wanted to know how this stranger regarded him.

  “What ya takin’ about?” Bryan took a step back and gave Gillean the once over. “Ya’ve got it made! Yer famous, got a brilliant home tucked away from us working sods. Ya got the full treatment—wife, kids, and gobs of cash. Man,” He shook his head with a smile, “don’t ya know how many people would kill to have yer life?”

  Gillean shoved the cigarettes into his pocket. “Don’t be so sure about that, Bryan.”

  “Go on, with ya. At least ya can escape this bloody country any time ya like.” The young man lit up a cigarette then held the pack out to Gillean who accepted the offering. “Every freggin’ tourist who comes through thinks dey’re in a freggin’ enchanted leprechaun land. Eejits.” He exhaled a white ring. “I’ll be stuck here with the blasted tinkers and sheep till I die.”