Chapter 2
Treyson kissed his wife Sara while touching her belly; even through her blue silk blouse he could feel the tight roundness of their expectant son. He thought about begging her again to go with him, but knew she would say no, for the doctor had cautioned against it. He pulled her close whispering in her ear "I love you". A single tear trickled down his cheek, but her smile and her hand wiped it quickly away. He didn't deserve this woman and her sacrifice for him. "I will miss you," he said. "I know," she answered playfully as the announcement to board the plane came across the speaker. They walked towards the gate holding hands and after one long last kiss he let her go, but not before she slipped a small stuffed animal in his hand, "keep him with you at all times he will bring you safely back to me." For a brief moment he hesitated looking at the brown nosed bear, the thought of canceling the trip crossed his mind; the guilt of leaving her this far into the pregnancy was bearing down on his heart. She nudged him forward, "you better go," she said with a smile, "they won't wait forever." With travel bag in one hand and stuffed bear in the other he turned and walked slowly through the gate.
"Don't forget to call me," he heard her voice say. Turning to look at her he gave her thumbs up while mouthing “I love you”. Walking down the ramp and leaving her sight was hard, but the thought of fulfilling his boyhood dream of seeing Scotland gave him strength to continue.
About the time Treyson's flight would lift off from the runway the alien, a car sized rock would pierce Earth’s atmosphere eager to release the foreign germ upon the unsuspecting world. The rock, on a cruel predestined trajectory, would streak across the sky going mostly unnoticed. A mother watching her three year old son playing in a sandbox would catch sight of it, reminding her of the time she sat on her grandfather’s lap and he pointed to a shooting star telling her to make a wish. A soldier hunkered down in his foxhole trying to avoid bullets noticed it, hoping it was a bomb that would bring an end to this senseless war, allowing him to go home to his family. A shepherd tending to his flock watched as it trailed across the night sky, a symbol of peace and long life in his religion. He bowed his head and prayed for a continued blessing on his life. A few snapshots of it made their way to a few online social sites, mainly for its brightness, and some even claiming it to be a UFO. A few obscure newspapers carried its photo, but the world did not heed the attention it deserved. If they had only known every missile on the planet would have targeted it. The governments would have united to deter it from its final destination. The irony; it streaked passed three military complexes and a squadron of fighter jets yet they paid it no mind. The alien meteor, now about the size of a beach ball, crashed through the waters of the Dead Sea making a large splash. The rock split allowing a halophile virus to escape and begin to multiply.
Treyson's flight left New York's JFK, arriving in Amsterdam twelve hours later. He didn't remember much for he had slept most of the flight, hoping to be well rested so he could get an early start to his itinerary. In Amsterdam he had a slight layover where he had to change planes, then two hours later he arrived at Inverness, Scotland. His wife had taken advantage of the airports concierge service and had Treyson's luggage delivered to his already booked hotel room. His wife had also booked him a car rental though he personally wanted to use the bus or taxis services. She argued that sometimes that would be inconvenient, he argued that he wasn't sure he could learn to drive on the wrong side of the road. Like always she had won the disagreement so he walked to the car rental area of the airport. After finishing the paperwork and handing Treyson his keys the female rental associate asked, "is this your first time in Scotland?"
He replied, "Yes."
She continued knowing it was a common tourist attraction, "are you planning to see Loch Ness, it's not too far from here?"
"Eventually, cause the chance to see Nessie would be cool, but the first thing I want to visit is the village my grandfather grew up in," he said, all smiles.
"Oh, so you may have relatives from here," she paused slightly not giving him time to answer, "what village would that be?"
"It's called Nadamph have you heard of it," he asked?
"Yes, it's a small village situated about two hours north, it’s pretty this time of the year." she answered while pulling out a folded map and opening it up. She showed Treyson the route he would need to take, marking it for him. She folded it back up and handed it to him then added, "There’s a few caves around there to explore if you like that sort of thing."
"Thanks a lot," he said as he turned to go look for his rental.
"No problem," she said, but added, "Be careful not to get lost it's pretty rural up there."
He laughed, "knowing me, I'm sure too."
The car was a compact. He was glad he didn't have to take his luggage it would have been a little cramped. He drove to the hotel using the map his wife had downloaded from the internet, finding it easily. She had booked it for the whole nine days even though he would spend some of the days away. He was going to spend a couple days at his grandfather’s village meeting the people and seeing the sites. It was early when he checked in so he decided to take a shower and get some breakfast before setting out on the long drive. He packed his duffle bag with enough clothes to last him a couple of days, putting the rest of the luggage under the bed along with the stuffed bear not wanting to lose it, Sara, he thought, would be hurt. Before leaving he stopped at the front desk requesting for no maid service while he is gone and he would let them know when they could resume cleaning.
There was a pub near the hotel named the Culdan Mhor; he decided to check it out. The entrance gave way to a duskiness created by the low light chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. There was an old world look to the inside with a dart board mounted on the far wall. The bar and stools were formed from rough hickory with black padding for comfort. A few tables and chairs were placed randomly around the room being made from the same material as the bar. The smell of ale hung heavily in the air as if it was used to clean the floors. Two burly men sat at the bar talking and a couple was sitting at a table in the corner watching news on a big flat panel that was hung on the wall. The place had the air of friendliness to it making him smile. He decided to sit at the bar. "What can I get you," a male voice with what sounded to be of an Irish accent came from a small dimly lit kitchen behind low swinging doors.
"Do you have a menu," Treyson asked?
A muffled laugh was returned with, "ye be not from around here are ye?" Before Treyson could answer the voice called out, "Fergus get him a menu." One of the brawny men who had black bushy hair and a thick mustache sitting at the bar reached over behind it and pulled out a small placard and slid it to him. The only food items on the menu were bread, chicken, potatoes, and thick gravy, but there was about twenty different ales named. "What ye be having," the voice called out again.
"How about some bacon gravy with bread and some black coffee" Treyson said while staring down at the menu.
"Ye be asking or telling," spoke the voice now up close.
Treyson looked up. A freckled, red headed, short man (chest level with the bar) stood before him with a grin etched to his face. A pot of gold came to Treyson’s mind but said instead, "I be orderin," in his version of Irish. Both men setting at the bar laughed heartily.
"You should come back tonight its comedy night at the Mhor," he said with a laugh. "My name is Shaun Culdan owner of this establishment," he extended his hand as he spoke; now without the Irish accent, that for some reason made Treyson laugh.
"Treyson McAlister," Treyson said while shaking his hand.
"McAlister... I met a clan of McAlister's up north when I was checking out a brewery. Where you from Treyson?" he asked.
"America, but my grandfather was from Nadamph, I'm headed there today."
"That's it! Lots of McAlister’s up north and boy can they drink a lot of ale. Oh, and they like to fight, too"
"I probably won't fit in, I neither like to drink nor fight," Treyson s
aid, now nervous about visiting the village.
Shaun went back into the kitchen, fixed Treyson's breakfast and brought it in and laid it on the bar. "Be careful, its hot." he said then started washing the bar with a rag. After a few moments he looked at Treyson, noticing his quietness, and said, "Don’t let it bother you, Scots are always glad to see family."
Treyson ate the gravy and bread then washed it down with the coffee. The taste was amazing. “It was good,” he said as he tried to pay, but Shaun told him it was on the house and to stop back in before he flies home. He also told him to bring some stories from his trip north, people around here like good tales. They shook hands then Treyson walked out the door and was soon on the road. He called Sara, though it was early for her and sounding tired, she made him feel good and assured him everything was ok.
Treyson was glad for the map given him by the rental associate; it lay unfolded on the passenger seat where he could see it. It came in handy as she had also circled some interesting places to see. Mainly some lakes (which they call lochs) and an old castle which he knew Sara would like a picture of. He sent her some of what he thought were really good pictures and he even stumbled upon a deep ravine that wasn't marked on the map. There was a wooden viewing platform that extended out over the gorge allowing him to take amazing pictures. A large falls was in the distance adding to the beauty of this place. It made him wish that Sara was there with him. He promised himself that they would make a return trip after the baby is born.
It took him longer than planned, almost two hours longer, most of which he spent looking at the narrow gorge and falls. This place is as rural as it gets, he hadn't seen another car or person for miles and it was giving him that all alone feeling when he came upon a large horseshoe shaped valley. Situated in the middle of this grassy natural depression was the small town he had been looking for, finally. A large rocky gray ridge jutted up from edge of the valley circling most of the way around giving it that horseshoe look. He noticed as the narrow road took him close by the ridge, a small dark opening, causing him to slow a bit. Wow, he thought, maybe the story my grandfather told me was true, though he don't ever remember doubting him. A large narrow lake met the village on its western edge and glistened back between two mountain peaks. The view was picture perfect causing him to stop the car and take a picture with his phone. He sent it to Sara with the text, "Nadamph, our future home, LOL". She replied, "It is beautiful. Build our house by the lake, LOL". He laughed then said out loud, "she is such a kidder." He text back, "done". He drove towards the town thinking of his wife, hoping she was ok, knowing she wouldn't say anything to spoil his vacation.
A big green sign welcomed him to the village and a smaller white sign pointed him towards the hotel. After dodging a big pothole he noticed there was only one car in the parking lot, giving evidence, he hoped, for a vacancy. With bag in one hand he used the other to open the squeaky door, a sign of age, he thought. He stepped through the doorway to find a hallway covered with pictures of fishermen with their catch, names and dates scrawled on the bottoms. Some dating back thirty years, mostly, he figured of tourists who have tried their hand at fishing in the lake. When he reached the reception area he found it unmanned but a sign instructing those in need of service to go to the lounge. He could hear what sounded like country music emanating from down the hallway in which the arrow on the sign pointed. He stopped when he came to the lounge; it reminded him of an American bar with a jukebox, a pool table and a bar. Three older men sat on the bar stools conversing with the tall, heavy, male bartender with a cowboy hat and ponytail. He had a hearty laugh and a beaming smile that made him seem very friendly. When he entered the room, the music stopped and all the old men turned looking at him with dropped jaws.
The Renewal Page 2