by Ashley McLeo
Lily ripped it open and found plane tickets. Three stiff, paper, old-school tickets, with stops in Seattle, New York and—“Ireland! I’m going to Ireland?” She had never even been out of the United States. She was suddenly thankful Rena had insisted she apply for a passport a couple years back.
“That’s right. You’ll be flying into Shannon. It’s on the west side. A receiving agent will collect you, then you have a bit of a drive to your final destination. Your family lives in the countryside. That’s where you’ll be meeting.”
“I—I can’t believe I’m Irish,” Lily trailed off. It was strange to be able to identify herself as part anything.
“Full Irish by blood, but we, that is to say those from the Emerald Isle, put a lot of stock in knowing your culture. So I’d say you have a ways to go before you can lay full claim to your Irish roots,” Nora smiled, her voice warming a touch.
“You’re Irish, too? Why is your accent so strange?”
“I was wondering if you’d catch that.” Nora laughed.
Lily found it more charming now, a subtle tinkle in a breeze.
“I’ve been a sort of diplomat all my life. Spent a fair amount of time here and there because of my job. I suppose my accent’s dimmed because of it, though I’ll be working my arse off to get it back. You, my dear, were my last assignment for a long while.” Nora looked pleased with the thought.
“If you look at your ticket you’ll see you depart in two days’ time. Rena and the rest of your family here requested to spend your birthday with you. Does that suit you? Or do you wish to leave sooner?”
Lily glanced up at Rena and Annika, and read the worry that she would want to leave sooner etched in their eyes.
“The original date works. I’d like to celebrate with my family.”
The Emerald Isle
Odd words and foreign accents flew through the air as Lily exited the security gate of Shannon International Airport. She veered to the side and pivoted on tiptoes as travelers flowed past her. The crowd thinned as the minutes passed, and still she saw no sign bearing her name. I must look pathetic, she thought. A warm sensation crept up her neck as another stranger glanced at her curiously and her utter aloneness seeped in. Did they get the time right? Why didn’t I ask for a photo of the adoption agency’s receiving agent? Nora said the agent would carry a sign. Lily scanned the meeting area again and this time an elderly woman standing inches outside the security gate caught her eye. The woman looked as frantic as Lily felt and was waving a tiny card above her head in ever expanding circles.
Seriously, Lily thought, walking back toward the gate.
“Ah! You must be Lily,” the woman sighed and broke into a well-lined smile at Lily’s approach.
“That’s me. Sorry I didn’t see your . . . sign,” Lily replied, forcing her face to remain neutral as she stared at the index card with Whiplark scrawled across the front in pencil.
“Well, it’s a wee bit busy in here, so I can see why. I’m Morgane Murphy. I’ll be taking you to the agency, along with two others. Let’s get out of the way, shall we?” Morgane gestured to a small alcove where a curvy blonde dressed in a chic black pantsuit stood. “It’s hard for me to hear in crowded places.”
Lily followed Morgane. Her stomach loosening as the knowledge that she wasn’t stranded settled in.
The blonde glanced up from her iPhone as they approached. Her large eyes were dark blue and irritated as they flitted past Morgane to latch onto Lily. “Finally. We’ve been waiting for hours. If I’d have known the adoption agency would set up carpools, I’d have hired my own driver. I’ve wasted so much time,” she said, reaching for one of the two designer suitcases at her feet.
“Evelyn Locksley, meet Lily Whiplark,” Morgane said as if the irate blonde hadn’t spoken.
“Hi,” Lily said, waving in Evelyn’s direction.
“Charmed,” Evelyn replied, her lips pursed, before turning back to Morgane.
“Can we go now? I’d like some time to decompress before meeting my birth family.”
“Of course, dear,” Morgane said. “But where has Sara gotten off to?”
“Like I know? She said something about grabbing food. Can’t she find us at baggage claim?”
“Hmm, perhaps I should wait here for her? Why don’t you show Lily to baggage claim? We’ll meet you there.”
“Let’s go,” Evelyn commanded, launching into a power walk.
The leggy blonde was already halfway down the hallway by the time Lily caught up. “I didn’t realize we’d be picked up in groups either. You’re meeting your birth parents too?”
Evelyn glanced back, an unnatural smile on her face, and nodded tightly.
“Soooo, where are you from?” Lily said, trying another stab at conversation.
“Manhattan,” Evelyn’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I’m sure forcing us to carpool was some ridiculous attempt at saving a few Euros. I swear, small companies can be so damned inefficient.”
“I road-tripped to Manhattan once in college. We saw all the sights. I can’t imagine living there. Having all that history and hustle bustle right outside my door.” Lily followed as Evelyn wove her way in and out the crowd.
Evelyn shot Lily a withering look over her shoulder. “Real New Yorkers don’t do the touristy stuff much. Let me guess, you’re from some small town in the Midwest?”
“Oregon.”
“Portland?” Evelyn asked, a slight degree of interest creeping into her voice. “I hear it’s all the rage now on the west coast.”
“About an hour away. I grew up in a commune. It’s not on the map. We call it Terramar.”
Evelyn rounded on Lily, her eyes circular as saucers. “A commune? Are you serious? Like with hippies?”
“I guess so.”
“Huh. I thought all the hippies were dead. Come to find out they moved to the west coast. Makes sense. I’ve heard people out there are lazy. Slow workers. Always out surfing or hiking, no work ethic.”
What the hell? Lily felt roots of dislike sprouting in her as Evelyn’s back turned and retreated once more. What is this girl’s deal?
“I take it you’ve never been to a commune before?” Lily asked when she’d caught up at the carousel.
“I don’t travel anywhere that doesn’t have a five-star hotel.” Evelyn paused. “I’m making an exception in this case of course. My parents thought it would be good for me to know my roots. I’m doing this for them.”
Ahhhhh, a rich bitch, Lily thought, the clouds parting. The type that thought New York was the be-all and end-all in the world. She’d heard stories about this particular breed of New Yorker at Bryn Mawr.
“What does your family do?” Lily asked, unable to keep her curiosity in check despite Evelyn’s aloof manner.
“Business. My father founded Locksley Enterprises.”
“Cool, my mothers are entrepreneurs, too,” Lily said, trying to keep her voice level but failing. Locksley Enterprises was huge. Near the single digits on the Fortune 100 list. Their finances influenced the American economy tremendously, and some would say their influence on politics and culture was even larger. Evelyn, Lily realized, had to be the wealthiest person she had ever met.
“Your mothers? Don’t tell me your family is gay, too?”
“Kind of. Well, Rena and Annika are, but that’s it. I was raised by a lot of women, all of them a type of mother, and a couple men who decided to stick around.”
Evelyn gaped. “That has got to be the strangest familial arrangement I’ve ever heard of.”
“It was a wonderful way to grow up. Raised by a village, as they say. My family is the best I could have asked for.”
“I suppose that’s why you’re here meeting your biological family, then?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “There must be a part of you that wanted a normal family and childhood if you’re here. Unless of course, your family forced you, which I doubt. Hippies are free thinkers, right? Free to do whatever you like. Floaters.”
Her words
carried an acidic tinge that made Lily realize Evelyn’s nastiness came from a deep-seated place. This was more about her own family drama than Lily’s.
“There’s my bag,” Lily said, slipping away to retrieve her backpack. She exhaled, glad to be rid of Evelyn, if only for a few moments.
By the time she returned, the group had grown. Morgane and an elfin redhead wearing voluminous harem pants and holding two large, greasy bags of food were chatting away while Evelyn scowled down at her phone.
“Are you sure you don’t want any? It’s good,” the girl said.
“I ate on the jet,” Evelyn replied, glaring at the grease spots on the paper bag.
“What is it?” Lily asked, hitching up her enormous backpack as she rejoined the circle.
“Sausage sandwiches. It’s all they had left for breakfast.” The girl shrugged, holding the bags out to Lily.
The girl, while not traditionally beautiful, was striking in an odd sort of way. She was pale to the point of being translucent, with a dark smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her lips were plump and small, like a tiny rosebud set above a small, square chin. She had American straight, white teeth that were set askew by her crooked grin. Her eyes were not the typical blue or green Lily had seen on most redheads, but a blazing, burnished copper that engulfed the finer features of her face and provided a gravitas not usually attributed to such a petite woman.
Reaching into the bag, Lily grabbed a sandwich roll. She was, as always, starving. “Thanks. I’m Lily Whiplark. You must be Sara?”
“Sara McKinney,” a dimple flashed in Sara’s left cheek. “Morgane said you were the last one. One quick bathroom stop and we’ll be on our way to meet our families.” Her tone, though merely informative, sounded ecstatic after talking to Evelyn.
Thirty minutes later Lily found herself careening down a winding country road at breakneck speed. Evelyn, to Lily’s relief, had placed headphones over her ears the moment they got into the car. Judging by the set of her shoulders, Evelyn was still annoyed. While Lily considered sitting in the cozy backseat of Morgane’s Mini Cooper with Evelyn better than being covered in the vomit Sara claimed would materialize if she was stuck in the back seat for hours, Evelyn as the tallest did not agree. Once or twice, Evelyn had made her displeasure clear by kicking her long legs against the back of Morgane’s seat and apologizing half-heartedly. Ambient tension aside, the ride was exactly what Lily needed: a brief period to decompress after the discomfort and long hours of air travel. While Sara and Morgane chatted animatedly in the front—both, it turned out, were historians of the occult—Lily was free to stare at the scenery and think. Between the solstice party, packing to meet her biological family and flying across the world, the last two days had been a whirlwind of epic proportions.
Lily’s mind drifted back to the solstice party. To the many toasts to her return home, and the news of her traveling to meet her birth family. Everyone had seemed so happy for her and unsurprised by this new adventure. But then, maybe that’s just my memory? Lily wondered. She hadn’t thought she’d overindulged in Hazel’s mead but there was no denying the night was blurry. Scenes she placed vaguely as being in the infamous adult tent were filled only with vivid color, loud music, and bodies dancing, each memory indistinguishable from the next. The one thing she thought she could remember was too preposterous to be true: Selma, belly-dancing on a stage before a crowd of men, twirling and spinning as if to captivate them. But that can’t be real, Selma doesn’t know how to belly dance. Lily shook her head. Next year I’ll have to lay off the mead.
Unable to tease anymore from the past, Lily spun to thinking of the future. Familiar questions continued to wear tracks in her mind. Do I look like my mother or father? Do I have siblings? What if I can’t understand them? Understanding Morgane is a little difficult. The rolling green hills outside her window calmed her and energized her all at once. This is really happening, Lily thought.
“Here we are,” Morgane announced hours later as they pulled to the side of a narrow, tree-lined lane.
Lily swiveled her head right, then left. Dirt road, hedges, and grassy hills filled the landscape as far as her eyes could see. She checked again. Nope, definitely no buildings. Is she joking? Lily thought uneasily.
“And where exactly is here?” Evelyn asked, voice sharp and eyes narrowed, as she pulled off her headphones and rested them around her long neck. “I’ve seen nothing but shrubs for the last half hour.”
“Aye! But of course! I could find the cottage with me eyes closed. But then, I’ve been coming here for near on sixty years. You'd never find it without knowing where to look.” The old woman grinned sheepishly back at them. “It’ll be right through there. See that wee nook in the hedge?”
Three pairs of eyes followed Morgane’s finger toward a wall of tall, dense box trees.
The opening, just visible if Lily squinted, peeked through a few rogue branches that seemed to have escaped the pruning shears for years. I may have to leave my bag on the road, Lily thought, mentally sizing up the overstuffed 60 liter backpack she’d borrowed from Annika against the tiny gap in the greenery.
“God, it feels good to be out of there,” Lily said, stretching her arms wide as she exited the car. “You know, this kind of reminds me of home, quiet and hidden.” A sharp sensation cut through the flutter of excitement in her belly as she said the words. Guilt, subtle yet insistent, had been her constant travel companion. Here, in the middle of nowhere Ireland, was where her life would change. Once she disappeared through the overgrown hedge, the commune could never again be her only home. Even if the meeting was awful, Lily knew a part of her would always remain here.
“Lovely,” Evelyn muttered, looking as though her worst nightmare had come true.
“Grab your things, girls. I’ll lead the way but I’m not staying long once introductions have taken place,” Morgane said, already at the hedge.
“Wait! Is anyone coming to help with our bags?” Evelyn asked, her voice high with disbelief as Morgane disappeared through the gap in the hedge. “You’d think we’d get a little help after traveling halfway across the world,” she grumbled, heaving the first of her large suitcases out of the trunk.
Lily refrained from rolling her eyes as she grabbed her own backpack. Slinging it on with ease, she waited for Sara to grab the remaining duffle crammed up against the trunk’s corner before slamming it shut.
“That’s all you brought?” Evelyn asked, eyeing Sara’s small duffle bag.
“I’m studying in Ireland for the summer. I only packed for a weekend,” Sara said with a shrug.
Lily choked back a laugh at the look of incredulity on Evelyn’s face. Oh, how the other half lives, she thought, leaving Evelyn to wrangle her two high-end roller bags as she turned to follow Morgane.
“Morgane?” Lily called into the hedge.
Silence. Morgane, it seemed, had left them in her octogenarian dust to find their own way.
Why am I not surprised, Lily thought, recalling the tiny index card with her name on it as she stuck her hand in the hedge and began groping for a doorknob. Her hand caught only air. The door must be farther back, she thought, walking with her arms extended in front of her, into the foliage.
Inside the hedge, a new world emerged. Here, darkness and stifling humidity ruled. Lily coughed as thick, stale air invaded her lungs. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the absence of light, which took longer than she expected. A tunnel two feet wide and unknowably long crawled into the darkness. Huge roots, smaller offshoots of tunnels large enough for a child to crawl through, and multiple sets of glinting eyes stared back at her, daring her to move forward. Lily tried to imagine how wide the hedges must be to create such an illusion. It would be a miracle if anyone ever managed to find this place alone.
“Creepy,” Evelyn whispered, her bags clanging over roots as she entered the tunnel.
No argument there, Lily thought, batting away an overgrown branch as she inched forward.
> “I think I see a door,” Lily said, squinting into the darkness at a rounded outline some twenty feet ahead.
“How the hell did the old biddy make it through this tunnel so fast? And without breaking a hip?” Evelyn muttered, as her foot sank into a cavernous hole.
Lily watched Sara assist Evelyn in extracting her foot from the mire. It is pretty treacherous in here and certainly gives off a “get out” vibe. How had Morgane flitted through here so quickly?
After what seemed like years, they made it to the tunnel’s end. The door was a formidable barrier with Celtic iron detailing overlaying cracks and holes gnawed into the wood by the vermin living in the hedge. Long ago the door had been green, though only flecks of paint remained as evidence to this. An iron knob hung from the wood, loose and wobbly. Lily tensed as her hand closed around the cold iron. This knob could fall out at any moment and then we’ll be stuck in here until Morgane realizes we’re not right behind her. Who knows how long that will take, she thought as she turned the knob gently. It stilled at the end of its rotation. She pushed twice, then pulled. The door didn’t budge. Glancing down at the rusted hinges, Lily tried both motions again, adding as much strength as she dared.
What’s the secret? Twist the knob a quarter inch to the left, jiggle, knock three times, and yell the password, Lily thought, trying to ignore her frustration with Morgane at being left to figure it out herself.
Twenty minutes later the stalwart sentinel had endured so many jiggles, shakes, pushes, pulls, and kicks Lily was shocked it was still standing, let alone closed. The tunnel, unpleasant to begin with, had grown hotter and mustier the longer they stood there. Lily felt her options dwindle as claustrophobia set in. The way she saw it, they had two options: turn around before she died from overheating and wait for Morgane or someone else from the agency to collect their left behind asses in the lane or . . . she sighed.
“Can you guys move back? I need room,” she said nudging Sara and Evelyn back the way they came.
