by Martha Long
We came bouncin over a hill an ended wit us all lookin at the first sign of life we seen fer hours. I suddenly blinked an lifted me head te get a look out, feelin all delighted.
‘This is the last post before civilization ends for the western world!’ warned Oisin.
I looked out, seein a line of about five or six houses wit a shop an pub on each side a the road. People came rushin out te get a look, an stood gapin wit their mouths open. We had te slow down because a cow came wanderin onta the road an joined a donkey tha was already sleepin there. Then chickens came flyin down from the straw roof of a house an landed on the top of the motor car.
Father Flitters opened his winda, shoutin. ‘YOU PEOPLE! Get these beasts out of my path and get this bird off this motor car AT ONCE!’ He roared, liftin his walkin stick up an out the winda, givin a hammerin te the roof of the motor car.
The chickens squawked an flew down, landin in front a the winda. Then they sat themself on the bonnet givin a good shit, tha came scutterin down wit the fright they got.
The people ignored him an just crowded around, wit even more flyin out fer a look. Then a very old nun came rushin through a big door wit a cross over it, an stood starin wit a feather duster in her hand. Then she gave a shiver, shakin herself inta action, an came rushin over wavin her duster, sayin, ‘Bless all travelling in this motor contraption!’
Then people nodded an shook their heads, blessin themself agreein.
‘Oh, indeed so, Holy Sister! Bless all dem travellers dat have put body an limb in the power a dis contraption, trustings and hopings and prayings to get dem safe in der wanderin!’ an old man wit a greasy black top hat said, then gave a jerk te his trousers tied up wit a rope an looked around at everyone, waitin te see wha they thought a tha.
‘Ohh, the poet Milch O Muile-lihaun has spoken,’ they all muttered, lookin very satisfied they owned a marvellous poet man.
Then he pointed te his black hat, sayin, ‘Dere’s a lot a wisdom passed through dis hat. Me father got it from the gentry durin the famine. It blew offa the gentleman’s head when he runnin to save his neck from the Fenians. An upon my soul, no word of a lie! Dat Fenian was my father!’
‘No word of a lie!’ they muttered again, blessin themself an bowin in a holy prayer.
‘Ohh be all the saints!’ moaned an old woman givin a roar, not able te take in the sight a us strangers, an we all sittin in a motor car. ‘An may God’s mercy be on them if they don’t live to tell the tale!’ she snapped, clampin her mouth an lookin around te see wha they thought a tha.
Nobody thought nothin, an all the ones in the motor car just stared ahead lookin in shock. Oisin stared at the shit bakin on the bonnet, it was comin from the heat a the engine. Hairy looked out her side a the winda squintin, then openin her eyes wide, tryin te make out was we in the middle of a fillum. Father Flitters kept breathin hard down through his nose, tryin te work out wha te say first. I just took it all in enjoyin meself, wonderin if we was goin te stop fer somethin te eat.
Then we heard a big sigh an a voice gasp. ‘Oh it’s a Reverend Father!’ moaned the nun in a whisper, goin inta shock wit her eyes takin in the white collar an the rest a him. He was all covered from head te toe in black.
‘How are you at all, at all?’ she said, pointin wit the fingers spread near the priest’s arm, but not darin te touch him. ‘Have you come far? Where are you heading? Is it here you are stopping? Is it me you want? I’m the Reverend Mother of the local convent school. But we don’t have that no more,’ she complained, lookin around at the old wrinkled faces starin back at her.
‘The children are long grown up,’ panted the nun, bendin down an breathin in the winda. ‘There’s a lot of emigration – America, England, Australia! They have us taken everywhere!’ she whispered, mouthin the words like everyone was committin a sin.
There was silence fer a minute after tha, while everyone waited fer somethin else te happen. Then Oisin came te his senses an woke up shoutin. ‘My father’s motor car! It is wrecked for God sake,’ he squealed, pointin at the hardenin shit pilin on the front. There was now a gang a chickens all crowdin on the bonnet, includin a big fella wit a huge crown of feathers stickin up on his head.
‘What am I going to tell him?’ Then he whipped open the door an lashed out te get a look up at the roof.
‘Oh my God! It’s ruined, dented! He will be very angry. I will have to pay for the damage,’ puffed Oisin, givin a ragin look at Father Flitters, then divin back in an slammin the door shut.
‘YES INDEED YES!’ screamed Father Flitters. ‘These damn fools! It is all their fault! Don’t worry! I will find out who the parish priest is and make them pay for this!’ he snorted, bangin his stick on the lovely wood panel inside the motor car.
‘Father, please stop with the stick, you are damaging the rosewood dashboard,’ gasped Oisin, losin his breath now lettin it out in a squeal. He was talkin through his fingers wit his hand coverin his mouth in shock, an his head was movin up and down wit the every bang the priest was givin.
‘Tut, you young men have no regard for age or status!’ Father Flitters moaned, liftin the stick an throwin it behind him, landin the flyin stick a belt te Hairy.
She got it on her funny bone, because lucky the stick missed me an landed her side a the back seat. ‘Owww!’ she screamed, givin a piercin squeal an grabbin hold a her arm rubbin an swingin it. Then she grunted a moan, turnin te look out the winda tryin te forget the pain.
‘Incorrigible,’ muttered Oisin under his breath then turned on the engine an made te drive off.
People kept leanin and sittin themself on the motor car an moved wit us still restin an leanin, even wit the motor car makin te go faster. So Oisin banged his fist on the horn an roared the engine, then went faster an finally people cleared outa the way. We drove off an I looked back seein them rush onta the middle a the road te watch us goin outa sight.
‘The local natives don’t see much activity coming through this place,’ laughed Oisin, lettin out a big sigh. ‘Any visitors or business would be from the last village we passed, and that was several hours ago. So one thing is guaranteed, certainly few would have business going beyond this point. From here now on, we will traverse the wild beauty of the land. It has little or nothing but the unforgiving and ferocious Atlantic Ocean roaring in to lash and tear at the cliffs below. On a bad day, the poor unfortunate fishermen, both they and their boat can get caught in a storm while out at sea. Oh it can happen suddenly, all too quickly when the wind changes. Then oh! It can be fierce. The great Atlantic will plunge into one of its mighty rages, wreaking the hell of all terrors and damnation on all and everything in its wake. On the next tide, it will then come thundering in to spit out the drowned bodies of the local fishermen. It is their way of life, fishing would be the local means of support here,’ he said, wit everyone goin quiet now, thinkin about this.
24
WE HAD BEEN drivin fer hours more when Oisin suddenly said, ‘Land ahoy! Finally we are here. We have arrived after two days of travelling, well, for me! It has taken three days for your good selves and the child.’
Then he looked around at me an stared, givin his head a little nod like he was sad fer me, then turned back sayin nothin. Big gates started te appear wit high stone walls an huge stone buildins sittin right under the dark heavy sky. I looked te see where we were goin te turn in.
‘I take it these are the farm entrance gates,’ said Oisin, lookin up at a long dark entrance wit the road made a hard granite stone. We drove on hearin the angry roar of the ocean an lookin down at it, seein it bashin inta the rocks just below the cliffs. They were very steep, wit them hangin down on the right side of the road. Me heart was startin te fly wit the nerves, an I wanted te run an bury me head in someone’s arms te protect me, but there’s no one te run to. I have no Mammy no more, an I just have te pray she will look down an protect me from heaven. I just have te know tha, because I want to believe it very truly.
We came te big gates wi
t nothin after it but high stone walls, an the ocean wrapped itself around it, just up above, because there was no more land.
‘They’re locked,’ said Oisin, pullin the motor car to a stop an leanin over the steerin wheel as we all stared in at the big chains, they were wrapped around the gates, lockin them. There wasn’t a sound te be heard, nothin but the roarin of the ocean an the quiet over this side. It looked so still wit all the big stone buildins an dark hidden places wit not a sign of another livin body.
‘There’s a bell there,’ said Oisin. ‘See!’ he said, pointin at the big bell buried in the wall, then got out, leavin the motor car door open.
I watched as he pulled the bell, makin a big bongin sound. It was comin from the little stone house just inside the gates.
Nothin happened, so he leaned forward givin it another pull, then one more, just te be sure.
We still waited an I looked, seein further back a dark-brown heavy wooden door built inta the wall, it looked like a church door wit a stone arch over it. I bet tha’s fer gettin inta the house tha’s just inside, close te the gates there, I thought. It would make it easier than openin them big gates. But I would bet as well tha door’s locked too.
‘WE ARE NOT SITTING OUT HERE ALL NIGHT!’ Father Flitters suddenly erupted, whippin his head around te find his stick.
‘Give me my stick, woman!’ he ordered, roarin his rage at Hairy.
‘Ohh,’ she started squealin, flyin her eyes lookin around.
‘Someone’s comin!’ I shouted, gettin all excited when I saw an aul fella makin his way out slowly, he was takin his ease wit his hand rattlin a bunch of big keys.
‘State your business,’ he demanded, barkin his voice at Oisin.
‘Em,’ said Oisin, lookin around now not knowin wha te say.
‘OPEN THESE GATES, MAN! YOU STUPID IGNORAMUS!’ Father Flitters screamed, wavin his arm an goin purple in the face, then whippin around te look fer the stick.
Before he could open his mouth, I had it grabbed down offa the back winda an handed it to him. But Hairy was not quick enough, an she gor another bang when he reached te snatch it, takin it from me an wavin it in the air.
‘My eye, my eye!’ she roared, grabbin her face an holdin her eye.
‘Stupid woman!’ he snorted, bouncin te get himself outa the seat an get goin te sort the aul fella.
‘How dare you?! Open this gate without further question, or I will bring this stick down on your humped back, you doddering old fool!’ screamed Father Flitters, wavin the stick over his head.
‘Now, now! Please, let us all keep calm, Father Flitters! Don’t excite yourself,’ said Oisin. ‘It is bad for your heart in a man of your age! Open the gates, please, we have business with the Reverend Mother,’ Oisin said, talkin quietly but demandin at the same time.
The aul fella chewed like mad on his gums, rattlin them up an down not knowin wha te do. I could see his eyes flyin one minute wit rage, then the next blinkin, lookin nervous. I could tell be tha way wha he was thinkin – would it be all right fer himself te let fly? Is he entitled?
‘Open the gates or I will have you flung out on the side of the road, you will lose that fine house along with your keep, you old fool!’ roared Father Flitters, gettin ready fer battle number two. Because he was losin number one – the aul fella wouldn’t open the gate. He walked off rattlin his keys mutterin under his breath.
‘Jesus! What do we do now?’ whistled Oisin, lettin it out in a piercin sound through his teeth, then he started grinnin.
I laughed te meself too, watchin Father Flitters stare after the aul fella, he was standin wit the fist under the clamped jaw an the eyes bulged, not able te believe the aul fella was even worse than himself. Because he was now makin his way back inta the house, bangin the door shut after him.
Father Flitters couldn’t get over it. He turned himself lookin around, goin all colours wit the shock! Pink, then blue, turnin purple an now gone black.
‘THIS IS …’ he roared, holdin the stick in the air wit one hand an the other held up in a fist. ‘HOWWW DAAARE …’ he tore outa himself, holdin the breath, his face now burstin. Then he bent down givin the ground an almighty bang wit the stick, then lifted himself, makin a go at hammerin the big iron gates.
Suddenly the door blew open an a huge curly-haired terrier came tearin out an leapt fer the gate, makin te take a lump outa Father Flitters.
‘Ahhh! It’s the beast from hell! This man has now set his dog on me! CLIMB OVER THE DAMN THING, MAN, AND DEMAND THE KEYS TO THESE GATES!’ screamed Father Flitters, ragin at Oisin an really losin the mind now, lookin like a babby not gettin his way.
Oisin looked at the dog, then looked up at the gates measurin the size, then down at himself then back up again, sayin, ‘Oh now, I think, Father, you should have a go yourself at climbing over, you see, if there’s any trouble … Well, you have legitimate business being in there. Me? I have no business at all,’ he said, pointin a fist at himself. Then he rushed back te sit in the motor car, sayin, ‘My goodness! It’s getting very chilly!’
Father Flitters stared at the spot now empty where Oisin had just stood, then turned around lookin very confused, not knowin wha was happenin or where he was now. Then we heard a voice an looked up seein an old woman come out through the door of the house.
‘Cuchullan!’ she shouted, callin the dog away.
He looked back starin fer a minute, then gave one last bark an flew the tail waggin, slinkin over te crash his arse on the ground, sittin wit the paws on the woman’s foot.
‘Get up get in!’ she shouted, wavin her hand ready te clout the dog if it didn’t get goin pronto. ‘Arrr bad cess to dem dat makes the trouble! Him an dat dog was sent to try me! A scourge dey is if ever one was born! Reverend Holy Father, gentleman an lady! A thousand welcomes! May the wind always be at your back an the sun in front to warm your face! Come in, come in!’ she sang, bowin te everyone in turn, while all the time wrappin a red shawl around her head, coverin the snow-white hair, leavin only a bit of the face te be seen.
Father Flitters looked, turned te her then us, not knowin wha te be doin first, then rushed wit the stick in the air tryin te keep his balance an heaved himself back inta the seat.
‘It is a miracle, God found someone with sense to open the gate and let us in,’ he said, givin Oisin a dirty look, then one at the gate, snortin out his disgust at the whole wide world. It was as if him, next te God, were the only ones wit sense.
We turned in the gates then stopped when the woman said, ‘You will need direction. I take it your business here is the delivery of an inmate? The child,’ she said, throwin her head at me. ‘Would dat be so?’
‘Yes,’ Oisin nodded an Father Flitters barked, gettin impatient givin his stick a slap.
‘Tis the Cloister you will be wantin so! Ignore all the buildins come in sight on your path. Keep go firin ahead until you arrive at the biggest buildin, you won’t mistake it yonder in the distance. God speed an bless all who travel these holy grounds,’ she said, bowin an givin us a blessin.
‘A thousand thanks for your courtesy and kind will, good woman. May you never be in want,’ said Oisin, then we drove off headin inta the dark windin road.
Me nerves started te get bad again, worryin me heart inta painin me. For a short while back there, somehow I thought we were not goin te be able te get in. Then they would have te take me back te Dublin wit them, an maybe I could go home. I still can’t stop believin somehow, somewhere, some way, everythin will turn right again. Then a miracle will happen, an I will be able te get me mammy an sister back. Yeah, I just can’t help it, because me world is too dark without Mammy an me sister in it. If I had te stay in tha dark world fer long, then I would have te think of a way te get to heaven. Because the matter of the trouble is, I want te get te heaven but I don’t want te die!
‘Ah here we are. This looks like it,’ Oisin said, finally turnin in off a long dark road wit nothin but high stone walls an buildins behind big yards wit gates in
front a them. ‘We reach the end of the road,’ he said, comin to a stop in the middle of a big yard wit the ground all covered in slabs a grey stones.
‘What a handsome courtyard, an enclosed cloistered walk built by the ancient monks,’ he said. ‘This place certainly has history, must be at least seven or eight hundred years old,’ said Oisin, leanin down te look up at another arch just in front goin deeper inta the buildins.
‘We’ll park here and get out and stretch our legs. This looks as good as any a place to stop,’ he said, lookin around again at the passages wit the stone carved pillars.
‘It is the place!’ commanded Father Flitters, talkin like there was no contradictin. ‘I have been twice before in my priestly lifetime, come with business to these nuns. In this place is to be found the finest monastic way of life that has survived here for centuries. Miss Wallis, take yourself abroad out of that motor car and bring the creature Carney! I’m anxious now after a long journey to get this settled. Come, woman!’ he said, hobblin off makin straight fer the arch tryin te hurry.
I sat lookin after him feelin me chest tighten an my stomach turn, wantin te get sick.
‘Come along, wake up, you cretin!’ shouted Hairy, grabbin me by the arm an yankin me outa the motor car after her.
Oisin took in a big breath then gave a huge sigh not likin wha she was doin, but he just shook his head in disgust an wandered over te get a look along the passages.