Dainéal’s Dream - Part 10

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Dainéal’s Dream


Tá¡ Mo Chroá­ Istigh Ionat
(My Heart Is Within You)


Seonaid á³ Murchadha, once a boy with a dream; a dream that once seemed hopeless. She remains filled with doubts; now that she has realized her dream, will she ever realize her love?



Throwing light into a darkened cold
Hands that toil until the night grows old
Pure devotion of a faithful heart
That knows Your Spirit

Previously - Dublin, Ireland, February 1965….

“And as for you two,” Calleigh nodded at Zoe and Ashleigh. A moment later the two stood solidly in the hallway of the walkup in front of the apartment next to Seonaid and Maired’s. Instead of long flowing gauze, the two wore peasant tops and long denim skirts. Zoe’s hair was pulled back in a pony tail and Ashleigh wore a bandanna. 1965 Dublin was about to make its first acquaintance of The Dublin Lassies, a new folk duo.

“What just…why am I talking like this?” The two almost said in unison, their familiar tones replaced with sweet and joyful but decidedly Irish brogues. Zoe turned to Fiona, expecting some sort of instructions, but heard instead,

“I’m sorta just overseein’ you two, aye? “ She began to laugh softly and was joined by Calleigh, who said finally,

“You’ll be fine. All you have to do is show these two here that life is worth living because after all, what could be more life giving than sweetness and joy, aye?”


Across town...a few days later...

And the river flows
Through eternity

The young lady stood in the doorway of the flat; simple with a bedroom and kitchen and living room sharing the same small space. The older woman stood next to her and smiled. The woman had the kind of face that reminded you of someone you knew even if you only met them for the first time.

“Now mind you, darlin’ but though it ain’t too fancy it’s still clean and we watches out fer each other. The woman pointed in the direction of the front of the building.

“Now don’t you never mind Alfie…he’s a bit slow but he’s a good boy an protective of his ‘sisters,’ as he calls you girls. You need anything, he’ll likely be able to get it or know where ye can. Like I said, he’s a good boy. Now you need anything else, you tell me, aye?”

Moira nodded and looked down at her shoes nervously and with no small amount of shame. Her reputation might not have preceded her, but she carried the guilt with her the way some girls carry a purse full of makeup and brushes; only her purse was her heart and it was just about filled with all the wrong things.

“About the other boys in the building? Tommy O’Shea is a looker, he is; as handsome as the day is long but he’s also a nice boy. An Davie Laughlin? He’s got his eye on Tommy, if you know what I mean. Both of them can be trusted to make sure you’re okay. As far as the other boys…well, no boys in the room, period!” The woman looked out the hallway window into the street at the young man who leaned against an old MG, looking very put out. Moira’s face turned red. Sure she was drawn to men...too much left over from her past. But there was another who was firmly entrenched in her heart...one over whom she might never recover...Tá¡ Mo Chroá­ Istigh Ionat...words spoken by a dear one long ago.

“Oh, don’t go startin’ in on me. It’s just that we want ye to be safe, is all…you’re my girl now.” She stepped closer and rubbed Moira’s arm. If it was meant to console, it had the completely opposite effect as the girl started to cry.

“Oh, darlin’, it’ll be okay. ...maybe you can write your Ma and tell her that you got that job, aye?” At the mention of her mother the girl cried even harder. She turned her face to the hallway wall and her fists balled up in sad frustration. The woman wanted to hold her…to tell her that she knew…that Moira was a good girl…just like a daughter. But Fianne wasn’t the only one there to console Moira but to point her to the place and the person that would heal her heart.


Bannon's Public House, Dublin...some days later...

A tall, well-built gray-haired man stood by the bar, speaking to a young woman in fairly animated fashion.

“Now….you start at seven and stay till closing. Tuesday thru Thursday. If I can spare you, you can have off Thursday so you can sing.” Jackie Bannon was a reasonable and kind man. Once a hard drinker, a liver that was going bad added to a family that threatened to leave turned him into a teetotaler, which helped his business as well.

“I’ve got folks here who work and maybe spend time together outside. That’s fine with me, but not on my time. Too distracting.” He stepped closer and the man seemed to transform from a rough pub owner into a kindly grandfather in a moment’s notice.

“You’re young, child. Too young for the likes of this one,” he said it, pointing over to the lad who had accompanied Moira to Dublin as if he wasn’t even there. The boy frowned.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, girl, and your voice isn’t too bad at all. At least for this place, but maybe for places elsewhere. Maybe with some help you could give Dusty an Maryanne a run for their money? Keep your head on straight, young lady, aye? Friday you come in at four and work until seven. Music doesn’t start until about nine or thereabouts, so you can make some money in the early evening, okay?” Saturday you can come in at noon and help my Katie here with the inventory. Garrett an Paddy will do all the liftin’, an you all can hang around fer somethin’ from the kitchen before dinner hour. “Moira nodded.

“We have an act that just started. Two girls from Galway; they call themselves the Dublin Lassies. Folk music. Mind you, I thought that was on its way out, but they’re pretty good, an I bet they can help you with your singin’. I should let you know that…well; they’re not your typical girl act, if you know what I mean.” Moira turned red and went to speak.

“Oh, don’t go off on me like that, child. Nothin’ wrong, but you never know how folks is gonna react, and you just have to know. Either way, they’re a couple of nice girls….Zoe an Ashleigh.” Moira eased up a bit and nodded. Jackie didn’t have a biased bone in his body; it was just the way things were and he was just trying to let the girl know what was what, even if his view was just a bit slanted.

As they spoke, the young man who had been waiting stepped closer but still off to the side; pointing at the watch on his wrist. Jackie motioned for him to come closer.

“Excuse me, lad, what’s your name?” He folded his arms and smiled. The boy tilted his head in puzzlement, as if Jackie had asked him to parse a sentence or do a complex math problem.

“It’s an easy question, lad. Here…let me help. My name is Jack Bannon; my friends call me Jackie…you can call me Mr. Bannon. What’s yer name.” Smiled broadly, revealing a very bright gold eyetooth.

“Ah…Ian…Ian Callahan.” The boy said it proudly, but Jackie frowned.

“Well, Mr. Ian Callahan. Seein’ how you accompanied this young lady to her place of work, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” Ian looked at him askance once more, evoking an even bigger smile from Jackie.

“I don’t know what yer angle is, but seein’ how this is my Pub and you’re a guest, let’s just see if we can make things plain for you.” He stepped closer until he was practically in the boy’s face. His smile disappeared, replaced with an expression more suited to an angry parent.

“This young lady is now like me own kin. Aye?” Ian didn’t understand, but knew enough already to nod his head in agreement with the very large man before him.

“I don’t like whiny and weaselish young men hangin’ around my Pub lookin’ to score with my girls; do you follow me, Ian Callahan?” It was Jackie’s turn to cock his head, waiting for a reply. The boy remained silent as he sought for some clever answer for the man before him. Jackie waited a few seconds, and when the boy kept still, he got into the boy’s face and said slowly and in an almost monotone.

“What I’m sayin’, Ian Callahan, is that you fook with my girls, you fook with me, an seein’ how you’re a bright boy and all, I expect you get my meanin’, aye?” The boy remained silent, but his fact turned a very dark red as he nodded slowly, stepping backward and tripping over the stool that stood next to the bar. The boy was going to fall, but he felt a very strong hand grab his wrist and set him aright. Jackie smiled once again and said softly.

“I trust we have come to an agreement, Mr. Ian Callahan?” The boy nodded before Jackie used his eyes to direct the boy to the front of the Pub, and a moment later the boy had disappeared out the door. He turned to Moira.

“You’re the fourth girl in two weeks that he’s brought here. I don’t mind friendship, but there’s more than friendship that the boy is seekin,’ and that’s a fact.” He half frowned as the reality of what he said dawned on Moira.

“There are plenty of nice people in this fair city of ours; no need lookin’ for them that isn’t all that nice, child. Okay?” Moira blinked away some tears and nodded. Jackie leaned closer and hugged the girl.

“You’ll be alright, child. Take it slow; there’s no need to strive. Have faith an maybe good things will come to you.”

Down through the ages the Truth will survive
Turning the pages the Light cannot die
Down through the ages the Truth will survive


A few days later...Bannon's Pub...

“You okay?” Maired asked. Sionaid nodded.

“This one wants me to go back to his flat. I’m going to the loo. If he asks where I am, tell him you don’t know, aye? I’m pretty sure he won’t really mind, you see?” She pointed to the young man over her left shoulder who was already chatting up another girl. Teddy leaned closer and smiled.

“Don’t worry, darlin’! Your secret is safe with us.” At the word, ‘us,’ Seonaid winced; she didn’t want to establish any connection with the young man, as nice as he was. And of course the word 'secret' didn't help at all, either. A couple stood up from the table across from them and left. A moment later, Teddy had dragged Sionaid to the table; holding her hand. Her face grew warm, and she hoped that the dull lighting didn’t reveal her blush.

“Please, Teddy…” She went to pull her hand away but Teddy held it, a soft but firm grip.

“No, Janey…please to you? I really want to get to know you. You’re a bright girl…fun to be with and you love kids, or you wouldn’t be workin’ with them, aye? Maybe the nicest girl I’ve ever met.” She prayed her face hadn’t gotten darker as she replied,

“No…Teddy. There’s a lot about me you don’t know. I…I just can’t,” she put her head down, but not before she saw the look on his face. He wasn’t upset or hurt so much as disappointed. Still, he felt the need for one last soft urging.

“You have to know that you are without a doubt the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.” A truth that she couldn’t deny; nor could she deny his intentions as he leaned over the table and touched her cheek softly with his hand before pulling her into a tender kiss. She tried to tell herself it was wrong; not so much for the act but for the denial and hurt that was sure to follow. But this was the first time she had ever been kissed by a boy, and there was something appealing that she couldn’t resist, even if the outcome was destined to be the same. She gave into the kiss just as the barmaid came to the table to take their order.

“Hi, dears. I’m Moira….What can I get for you?” The two broke apart and both displayed unease. Teddy looked almost embarrassed. He truly wasn’t like one of ‘those’ kinds of boys and he was uncomfortable for Seonaid’s sake. And Seonaid looked up into the girl’s eyes and saw anger and doubt mixed with too much sadness.

“H…hello, Moira.” She said it almost as an apology as she shook her head and tears came to her eyes.

“Janey Murphy….fancy meetin’ you here…an with your boyfriend I see. Well, congratulations are in order, I’ll bet. I hope the two of you have a happy life together.” She stammered before running off to the kitchen.

“Carrie, can you cover for me for a bit…I have to take a walk an get some air.” Before the other girl had a chance to respond, Moira had run out the back door into the night.

* * * * *

“Are you alright? Oh…damn…of course you’re not.” Teddy put his hand on Seonaid’s arm. She went to pull away but thought better of it as the young man half-smiled in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Teddy…this..it’s part of what I tried to tell you. You’re a fine young man, but…” She put her head down, ashamed for too many unnecessary reasons.

“I sort of figured that, but that’s not all, is it, Janey.” Had she been stronger she might have made a futile effort at lying, but it really wasn’t in her; she had wanted desperately wanted to tell him from the start, but shame and guilt held her tongue.

“I… “ She put her head down once again and began to sob. The sounds of the pub did little to drown out her cries in her own ears and she went to stand.

“NO…please don’t go…You need to know….I realized tonight…I know Janey…” He patted her hand in assurance.

“What…who told you?”

“No one…it was just…I had a feeling.” He said it almost flatly, without much emotion, which sent the wrong signal.

“Is it that obvious? I knew this was wrong…Why did….” Her thoughts became accusing almost immediately until he reached over and touched her face; now more brotherly than romantic.

“No, Janey…a sense that I can’t even explain. There’s nothing wrong with you, dear. You’re still the same attractive woman that I have grown to care about…just a little different than I expected, but still a damn fine girl.” By now his own eyes were tearing up.

“I’m sorry…I can’t ….this hurts too much...” She stood up and went to kiss his cheek but pulled back, feeling guilty once again.

“You deserve more than what I can ever give, Teddy. I’m so sorry.” She said once more before running out of the pub.

* * * * *

A while later Maired returned to find both her own date and her cousin missing.

“She’s gone, Mare! She knows that I know….” He was ashamed; feeling responsible for something over which he had no control.

“I’m sorry, Teddy. She was going to tell you tonight…for real. She didn’t mean to….”

“I know….I sensed she had something she needed to talk about....and I know from the kind of girl she is that she wouldn’t have hurt me if she could help it. She saw someone…a girl…the barmaid for our table…someone she knows…Mara…Maureen?”

“Moira?” Maired’s eyes widened in fearful recognition.

“Yeah…she ran out…I guess they have a past? Janey was devastated and she…for me to know her secret? I wish there was something I could do.”

“Well, she knows you’ll be her friend…you’re a fine man, Teddy, and any woman would be blessed to have ye.” Maired put her head down a bit, hoping that Teddy didn’t notice her own tears.

“Thanks, Mare. You’re a good friend.” The words would be welcome by almost anyone else, but to hear ‘good friend’ from the nicest man she ever knew was an indictment of sorts against Maired. It would seem that neither cousin would ever be happy.


Later that night...on a tall bridge over the river Liffey...

Pages of eternal mystery
Where the Spirit knows what the eye cannot see
Images of Earth and Heaven
Mysteriously drawn together

It's said that there's a confluence of sorts that occurs wherever you may find water like a pond or a brook or even a river; a place that is 'thin,' and where spirit and soul meet; earth and heaven coming together.

“Now why do you want to make my night harder than it already is?” Moira looked around at the man standing next to her. He wore a blue uniform and a smile as broad as the river. She was startled enough that she grabbed the thin light pole that extended from the concrete railing.

“Now I’m not tellin’ ye how to run yer life, child, but whoever they are, are they really worth endin’ it all?” Somehow he knew she knew; that she desperately wanted the pain to end, but that the life that held the pain was still worth something; better than no life at all even if she felt too cheap to purchase.

“I’m not sayin’ that love isn’t important, but if it is, then both parties must be as equally precious as each other, aye?” The man looked up and smiled again. His kindness seemed to ease the girl back away from the edge.

“If she’s that important to you, then you at least have to be as important to you as well, aye? If you want her love, then you have to be worth somethin’ more than just a jump in the river and goodbye?” Moira didn’t budge, but her grip on the lightpole tightened; she didn’t want to die at all.

“An she’s likely worth livin’ for, aye?” He cocked his head in ‘tune’ with the question. She nodded.

“So why don’t you come down before you do something that will hurt everyone who loves you, okay dear girl?” She nodded and sat down on the concrete railing. Instead of lurching quickly toward her like in the movies, the policeman just extended his hand, smiling like a kindly toy store clerk who had found a nice toy or doll for a little girl.

“How did you know it was...?" Moira paused and gasped. "She found someone else.” She began to sob as the man pulled her gently off the railing and onto the pavement, embracing her and stroking her hair.

“Shhhh shhhh….it’ll be okay, child. If she’s worth dyin’ over, then she certainly is worth livin’ for, okay?” Moira nodded. A moment later she stood at the end of the bridge and she put her hands in front of her.

“I’m sorry for ruinin’ your night, sir. I guess you have to take me in?” She choked back a sob.

“Nonsense, child. We both know you just want someone who understands? Someone to talk to, aye? Go home…ah…here’s a cab right now.” He hailed the cab and when it pulled up, he handed the cabby some money.

“Oh...Maggie? Take this girl home, okay?” The woman behind the wheel nodded.

“Sure, darlin’” She laughed softly as the girl got into the cab. The officer winked at the cabby and smiled; Orla hoped that Fiona actually knew how to drive as the cab pulled away from the curb and down the street.

“I promise with Meabdh and God as my witnesses, it will be okay.” Orla assumed her natural form and was joined by a pair of young women dressed in long grayish gauzy dresses and matching cardigans and sandals with wrap-around laces.

“What shall we play, Miss Orla?” Zoe looked down the street as the cab turned a corner.

“Something hopeful child…”

Ashleigh put a capo on the neck of the guitar and Zoe lifted the violin to her chin and the two played gently; as gentle as the tears that flowed down their faces.

“Ah…” Orla said at the hearing of the first few bars,

“Very hopeful indeed!”

And the river flows
Through eternity

Down through the ages the Truth will survive
Turning the pages the Light cannot die
Down through the ages the Truth will survive

Next: Gra Geal Mo Chroi (Bright Love of my Heart) - Reunion


Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May
(complete version)
1909 by John Willam Waterhouse

River Flows
words and music by the performers
Iona
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDbFtU994Bw

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Comments

Very hopeful, indeed

Zoe Taylor's picture

You do it to me every single time, Aunt 'Drea. *giggle* I'm always left in tears with this story, and always left in a better place than when I began, even if I already was in a good place.

I'm so glad that Bobby was there as he was, but if I'm not mistaken that would be one of the ladies in disguise too? Nice touch! :-D I do hope these girls have a happy ending because they have some powerful allies in their corner, and Joy and Sweetness at their side. *giggle*

-
"...and then the day came when the
risk to remain tight in a bud was more
painful than the risk it took to blossom."

-- Anais Nin

~* Queen of Sweetness *~

Robinverse!

~* Queen of Sweetness *~

Become a Patron for early access ♥

good chapter

wish I could be more verbose, but a simple "good chapter" will have to do. I really like this line:

"Her reputation might not have preceded her, but she carried the guilt with her the way some girls carry a purse full of makeup and brushes; only her purse was her heart and it was just about filled with all the wrong things."

Boy, can I relate to that ...

Dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

Thank you 'Drea,

ALISON

'the magic continues in more ways than one,and how lovely to have Zoe and Ashleigh with us.
An enchanting story!

ALISON

Down Through The Ages

joannebarbarella's picture

To be played when you feel melancholy. Good will triumph! That's just like this story,

Joanne