*
Patrick. His neck. His back. And his head. He reached out, grasping onto
the first thing he touched. It felt like cloth, but old and dirty. He
closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer.
His body settled into the strand and the pain in his neck and his back faded
away.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw her bending over him, offering him
her hand. She smiled brightly and beautifully. Indeed she had been bathed in
light and dressed in air. In all the time he had known her and loved her, he
hand never known her to be as beautiful as she was at that moment. “Bridey?”
Suddenly he realized what he didn’t want to admit years earlier. Being the
youngest of four boys, he was destined for the priesthood. He would have gladly
changed places with an older brother. If only he were older, he once thought
that maybe, just maybe, he could sway her away from Liam.
“Patrick.”
Suddenly her image broke apart, giving over to a purer light and a beauty
he hadn’t known in this life. He sat up, facing his Creator, and he remembered.
All of it.
Bridey returned quickly. She held out a bony hand to him and helped him
to his feet. Then she embraced him. “I honestly didn’t think you’d stay with us
this time,” she explained.
Patrick felt heat rise in his cheeks. “And this life should be any
different from any other?”
“That’s funny, right?”
He didn’t respond.
She took his hand then, pausing only to examine the mess in the hard, wet
sand. He saw himself laying there, his head and hips twisted at odd angles. One
foot was shoeless, and his spectacles were gone. He touched his own head,
realizing he had taken them off to play in the match. He could see now, better
than he had in life, and without their aid. The shell that laid at his feet
wore tight clothing. The right arm stretched away from his body, his hand
clutching at the tunic belonging to the skeletal remains of a soldier with
cracked spectacles and a dented helmet. “I’m taking that to be Major Talbot?”
he asked.
“Aye, that’s Reggie.” she nodded. “Let’s find the others. I’m sure
they’re on the Lowside watching the sheep again.”
Before turning aside, Patrick made an effort to straighten himself up and
untwist his spine. He watched her disappear. She returned momentarily and waved
to him to join her.
“I did enjoy a short holiday,” Liam O'Brennigan commented. “I’m supposing
you’ll be preaching at me again?”
Patrick found himself a rock to rest on, facing the lowest edge of the
Island. Two goats, a calf and a handful of sheep lowed at the rain and raised
their faces to view the lightning. Jack, the little yellow cur that Patrick had
fed biscuits to, watched.
So much to see, so much to learn about. He needed time to sort out the
last few moments, and something inside him said that he’d have quite a bit to
do just that.
He saw the rain and the lightning, and he heard the thunder. He didn’t
feel it though. And he wasn’t wet. Liam neither. Without explanation, he knew
when Mrs. Keenan and Major Talbot arrived. He stood, taking the once old woman
in his arms. She smiled at him, touching his chin and glowing with the same
beauty that Bridey did. For that matter, Liam and the Major glowed.
Lightning struck somewhere behind him, on the far side of the Island. He
came about. “They’ve left the field,” he commented.
“Aye,” Liam agreed, crossing his arms. “They haven’t the foggiest idea
that you’re missing yet.”
Patrick turned on him. “You’re enjoying this, are ya? I’m dead and they
have no idea.”
“Not Wee Sean, not Jerry Corrigan, or even your best boyo, the prancing
fool. He won’t figure it out until he misses those trousers. Fits him better
than they do you.” Liam smiled brightly.
“This is m’punishment for stealing a horse? To spend eternity with the
likes of you? Liam O'Brennigan, shuttup.”
“Go ahead, Father, hit me with your best. Bible quotations and the like.
I haven’t heard a good lecture in months.”
“Liam O'Brennigan,” Bridey broke in, “Not again!”
*
Without explanation, the Lough Larton squad gathered their piglets and
returned to the mainland once the storm ended. Families kissed their fathers
goodbye and returned as well. Old Canon Hanrahan took Michelene and returned
with the Darcy family, assuring all that he had enough of Island life and would
not return again unless an emergency required him to. Thankfully, Father Patrick
would relieve him of that responsibility.
Wee Sean opened the last of his treasured Scotch whiskey. “Unless the
Brigadier had more hiding places than I’ve thought of, this is it,” he said.
“I am thinking of worse times to celebrate,” Jeremiah Corrigan commented.
“Celebrating Lough Larton’s piglets would have made it better,” Brendan
said. “Did Father Patrick return with the others? I didn’t see him leave.”
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