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Bad Things Happen

Page 40

by Tim Buckley


  People I’ve known my whole life, whom I deserted and who have taken me back. The place we left behind, but where I somehow still belong, where I will always belong. And a new sense of purpose to give me a reason to go on. All this time I’ve been searching for the answer, and all this time it was right here.

  “Aengus? Are you ok?”

  Niamh’s voice was even softer, even more gentle. I looked around and nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I think I’m ok.”

  “Do you want some company? I can just leave you alone if you’d prefer?”

  “No. Some company would be nice. I think I’ve had enough of being on my own.”

  I smiled at her weakly, and she smiled weakly back, relieved perhaps.

  I shuffled along the broken bench and she sat down beside me.

  “Lochlann told me,” she said, wringing her hands. “Oh, Aengus…”

  She put her arms around me and hugged me close. We stayed like that, motionless and quiet, forever. The only sound on the Head was the wind as it tiptoed self-consciously around us.

  Eventually, she sat back and looked deep into my eyes.

  “Are you going to be ok?” she said again.

  I shrugged and raised my eyebrows against the great unknown.

  “I have to be, Niamh, I just have to be. What else is there?”

  She nodded.

  “Come on,” she said, “it’s cold out here. You must be freezing.”

  She stood up and reached out for my hand. I took it, and we wandered slowly back up the trail. Around us the old landmarks quietly watched us walk away. The world carried on, but took a moment for my trouble. The Pigeonhouse stood silent sentry at the entrance to the port. The Baily’s watchful beacon never missed a single beat.

 

 

 


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