Dainéal’s Dream - Part 1

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Dainéal’s Dream

Táºis Nua
(New Beginnings)


Dainéal á³ Murchadha is a boy with a problem; a problem that belies all he knows about himself. He's about to take a trip that will redefine him and perhaps give him purpose. He feels useless and alone, but he's about to learn that his life has meaning and more3over, some dreams actually come true.



 
Diaga I Lathair
(Divine Presence)

I wish this boat
Could carry me to You
For I am thirsty
For Your love
But it lies deeper
Than this ocean blue
And all this beauty
Is no substitute

Somewhere in time...

“Dia Duit…Come, child….be free. You’ve found a peace for yourself.”

The voice was soft but clear, soothing as a lullaby but strong as the cry of a baby taking her first breath. A hand reached down and lifted the girl up to her feet. The tall angelic looking woman wore a green gown, almost shimmery, with a gold cord around her waist and a gold band around her head. Gold bracelets circled her wrists and she wore gold slippers. She smiled gently at the girl and spoke once more.

“You’re among those who love you and wish you well. The creator sees your heart, and wishes you to know he is well pleased.”

“You’re not the creator, are you?” The young lady replied.

“No….I am but a servant…and Queen of this realm. My name is Meadhbh.”
 


 

Cill Ghallagá¡in, County Mayo, Ireland, 1958….
 

Striving had done Dainéal no ill; if by no ill it meant no good either. He sat on his bed and looked out the window at the rising sun. A long day of toil at home had seemed to sap him of whatever strength he had ‘saved’ up for nightfall and sleep. No matter what the day promised, he would struggle with whatever chores might present them as his brothers and father returned. He’d go back to being the useless boy that no one respected nor even noticed at times. He wished he was somewhere else and someone else as well.

For Your divine presence
Your divine presence
With me

“Keepin’ the home fires burnin’ little brother?” his brother Liam asked as they walked in the door. The boy had tried his best to keep up with all the work at home with his mother abed for nearly a week with a virus. It was overwhelming and likely would have been too much but for his mother’s encouragement.

“Ye do yer best, child! That’s all anyone can ask.” So he did his best, and apart from a table lamp that had been broken when their setter Neddie ran through the house, the place was nearly spotless. He tried not to respond, since any acknowledgement whatsoever was always met with teasing, but when Liam asked he forgot and said,

“Mum says I do a right proper job!” He beamed with pride until his other brother Má¡irtá­n laughed and said,

“Aye, and that will make you a right proper bride when the time comes if you keep house like this!” Liam joined in with the teasing, which would have been hard enough, but another voice bellowed with laughter.

“Eh don’t go makin’ any promises, lad? I don’t have the proper dowry for the girl!” He sat down at the kitchen table and pounded it with his fist.

Dainéal’s face grew red and hot with tears as he turned away and ran quickly to the refrigerator to fetch a bottle of ale for his Da. It really hurt that they were so blind. He wept silently at night knowing that the virus his mother had was not going away. He wept that no one appreciated the hard work he did in her ‘absence’, and that he tried to be as good a member of the family as Liam and Má¡irtá­n But mostly he wept because while his father may have been harsh and even sometimes cruel in his teasing, he probably was observing something perhaps unconsciously that was true. Dainéal went to sleep at night and prayed to what God or presence he knew….to be a girl.

I wish this wind
Could carry words to me
To tell You what
Is in my mind
But deep within my soul
Your Spirit speaks
With words that I
Could never find

“Dainéal? Wake up, lad!” The boy sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Looking around, he noticed no light but the thin shaft shining from the crack of the door, lighting little but the back of his father’s head, giving him an almost angelic appearance but for the grimace on his face.

“Liam slipped while getting’ on the boat….did a split like a fookin’ ballerina and ended up breakin’ his arm against the pier. Yer gonna have to come out wit us.”

“But…what about Ma? Who’ll keep after her?” The boy was hardly awake and was already in a near panic.

"Ma á“ Ceallaigh is goin’ ta have her Moira cum over here whilst we're away." Dainéal's heart practically skipped a beat at the mention of the girl's name.

"Come on, I don’t have time for your fussin’. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the fish aren’t gonna wait all mornin’! You’re about as useful as a girl!” He slapped the back of the boy’s head, and not playfully at all. The boy got up quickly and threw on some clothes, mindful to put on some extra underwear for the cold. He looked around for his shoes, but his father handed him a pair of heavier boots.

“Liam’s extra pair. None of that,” he said, pointing to the boy’s sneakers. He quickly ran to his mother’s bedside and went to kiss her, thinking her asleep.

“Oh, there’s my child!” She said weakly. She lifted her head up and kissed his forehead.

“You mind yer father, but don’t let his fussin’ get to ye, aye? He loves you, but he can be a bit hard sometimes. You do him proud and everything will be alright.” She squeezed his hand and he kissed her cheek before he heard,

“Dainéal! Move yer arse; we don’t have all day!” He nodded as she squeezed his hand once again and he was off.

* * * * *

For whatever reason; bad luck, careful fish, or perhaps even divine intervention of an oddly cruel nature left them without any catch after seven hard hours of tossing sea. The men were tired and short-tempered; Liam especially since he could do nothing to help and he lost his balance and fell into a large pile of net more than once. Convenience and frustration won out over family and civility, and the men began venting on the one target they were sure wouldn’t wiggle out of their net.

“Would ye look at ‘em? He looks like a bloody fag!” Má¡irtá­n pointed at his brother and his tone was almost frightening because for once he didn’t laugh. A long pause as the boy turned his head. The teasing was bad enough with his mates at school; too often and too loud seemed almost pleasant compared to the barbs that ripped his heart as his brothers continued to cast their mean words his way.

“He’s not a fag! A fag would least know how to fookin’ repair a fookin' net. Oi don’t know what he is.” Liam spat.

“Hey….hey….noon a dat,” his father shouted, and the boy began to relax at his Da’s intervention until he heard,’

“No fookin’ cryin’ on me boat!” The boy’s tears began to mix with a sudden rain that fell; a squall that soaked them in a matter of moments. And the wind had picked up enough that the boat began to rock, but not so much that the moment was lost; sadly for the boy.

Even brave children can withstand only so much. Years of neglect coupled with the daily grind of harsh words wore the boy down to the thinnest of tolerance, and he began to shake, which scared Má¡irtá­n, who pointed and said,

“Look at ‘em….He’s having a fookin’ fit!” As he spoke, he stood up and rushed toward Dainéal, who stepped back quickly, believing his brother was about to hurt him. His foot got tangled in a rope lying on the deck, and he lost his balance, falling backward toward the railing and in a moment was in the sea.

“Quick! Tie this rope off, I’m gonna go in after him.” At that instant, a lightning bolt struck the tallest spar and the wood exploded into splinters. A large piece flew across the deck and hit Liam on the side of the head, opening a cut on his cheek. Da had fallen down, hitting his head, and Má¡irtá­n was torn between the two. He settled on helping Liam after seeing his father sit up and rub the back of his neck. Liam was out cold from the impact, but the cut was not deep at all; just bloody enough to scare his brother. In a moment he was conscious and sitting up as well. The three of them looked around and shook their heads in shock as they saw that the squall had disappeared as quickly as it came. It was only then that Liam looked at his father and mouthed,

“Dear mother of….” And finishing with a shout,

“God!!!!! Dainéal, Dainéal!!!” He leapt to his feet and ran to the railing. And saw the calmest sea he had ever navigated, stretching out for miles of clear blue sky, which revealed the one thing that the three had feared. Dainéal was gone!


 

Sometime and somewhere else...

Dainéal opened his eyes and felt water lapping at his right cheek and he realized he was lying sideways. The water seemed to revive him as it swept past his head. He noticed the sand on his face and he sat up. He was on a beach somewhere. As he looked down the shore he noticed that the beach was empty of life but for a few seagulls.

“Welcome child! Dia Duit.” He heard from a voice from behind that sounded as loud as the surf but as soft as a breeze. He pivoted and saw a woman standing there clad in green and her feet were bare. She reached down and offered a hand and a smile. Lifting him to his feet, she put her hand softly on his shoulder and used her other hand to point all around in a circle.

“Dia Duit…” She repeated, “Come, child….be free. You’ve found a peace for yourself.” The words woke him gently, coaxing him into a reality he had known all his life and yet had never known a single minute in that place.

She smiled once again and used her hand in a broad gesture to point to him, as if to display his body. He looked down, expecting to see his rain slicker and waders and boots, but instead saw his legs covered with some kind of bluish gauze-like fabric. It was then that he noticed it….as he turned his head, he saw….hair…long red hair. He lifted his hands and saw that they wore rings and that his arms were clad in the same fabric as his legs. And he had breasts…. He turned to the woman to ask a question.

“All in due time child; your questions will be answered and more. For now, be at peace and enjoy. Welcome….Seonaid."

For Your divine presence
Your divine presence
With me

There is nothing like Your love
There is nothing like Your love

And Your divine presence
Your divine presence
Your divine presence
With me
Diaga I Lathair
(Divine Presence)
A Ri mor na Nduil
(King of Creation)

Next: AthrẠ(Change)


 

Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May
1909 by John Willam Waterhouse

Diaga I Lathair
(Divine Presence)

words and music by the performers
Iona
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMppT0MdWMg

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Comments

Thank you 'Drea,

ALISON

'your lovely tale has lifted my spirits and left me feeling so happy.I know that the "Brat "
will love this.

ALISON

a very good begining

cant wait for more here.

Dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

It makes me wonder

littlerocksilver's picture

... in what world is this taking place. Is it in her mind, is she dead, what happens to her mother, and so many other things? I am also trying to determine what era this is.

Girl.jpg
Portia

Portia

I really like this

Woah... this story is really good...

The family took him for granted and they should have defended him and not picked on him. But at least they seem to be distrught over the loss.

Thank you for writing this interesting story, I can't wait for the next chapter.

Beyogi

We know one thing with certainty, 'Drea

The *useless fookheads* are her brothers and her shit of a father.

If all you ever do is criticize, belittle, abuse what the hell do you expect? And clearly woman's work, taking care of the household, caring for a sick person is pansy work and not worthy of respect.

I kind hoped they would drown given how little they seem to care for their youngest brother/son.

But is is just a dying dream or has the Queen of the Fairies taken pity on her? Poor child and mom deserve better. Can/will SHE ever go home?

And despite this being 1958 these men must know better. They may have a 50's sense of gender roles but abuse is still abuse. But then perhaps they are too set in their ways, their *tradition* to realize they are being asses.

What will become of her, the ill mother, the neighbor girl he/she admires or perhaps wants to be like? And what of her fookhead brothers and dad? Bet they will blame his aparant drowning on his being useless? Fookheads!

Another potential tear jerker.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Where is She

RAMI

Where is Daineal? Perhaps like in the Little Mermaid, the powers that be changer the mermaid into a real girl. Perhaps here the same thing occurs. But, how does she return to her family? Or doesn't she?

RAMI

RAMI

Not sure.

I'm really not sure if it was a happy tale or a very sad one. Yeah, I know so many of us end up dying, unacknowledged by the world and our families. Yeah, I know you said she was okay at the end... But, so much left unanswered. What's the effect on the family? (No child to take care of the mum - implies a neighbor's kid has to do it.) Who takes care of the house? The family didn't hate the child/sibling, and it's apparent they weren't going to actually harm her. Now, they feel guilty, and their life is much harder.

No - I'm really not sure if this was intended to be happy, sad, both, neither. But, it did generate some thought.

Thanks,
Anne