The car rattled through the countryside, deep into Dublin’s central neighborhoods. They parked in front of a handsome Georgian townhouse across from St. Stephen’s Green. Moss and ivy encased the brick façade, softened the hard edges and framed the large white painted sash windows.
White marble columns flanked a large entryway with a stained glass transom above the heavy black front door where an elaborate brass doorknocker occupied center stage.
Once inside, Julian found a light, open front room with an upholstered couch and comfortable club chairs bordering a large painted brick fireplace. As he was led through the house on a tour conducted by the professor, Julian found each room to be inviting and bright without being contrived or fussy.
Busy Kildare Street hummed on the other side of the front door, but the street noise was imperceptible inside. The feel of the home was one of a tranquil sanctuary removed from time and space. It was a world of its own.
“Breakfast, gentlemen, is this way,” Bridget said and led Julian and her husband into the dining room. Breakfast was simple, filling and Julian savored it with the easy conversation and the frequent laughter of his friends. He felt if he never left this house, he would count himself lucky beyond measure. This was the first time he could remember feeling deeply, truly happy.
***
Dinner was as relaxed as breakfast had been. The conversation centered on the professor and his duties at Trinity College. Bridget looked on and her face glowed with pleasure.
Julian sat captivated by the professor’s descriptions of his studies, his students, the investigation of ancient history and the stories of college life.
Bridget was enormously proud of her husband but not nearly as proud of him as she was in love with him. After more than thirty years together, there were no stories she had not heard.
She knew every pause, every gesture, every inflection. She heard the music in his voice when he was excited about a discovery or found a willing audience for his stories. His eyes would light up when he knew he had his listeners on the edge of their seats. He was good at what he did and she was good at loving him for it.
***
With the table cleared and the dishes washed and put away, Bridget and Julian walked into the garden while the professor went to his study to concoct another grueling test for his students.
Bridget put her arm through Julian’s and they walked around the garden at a leisurely pace.
“Julian, you are a gifted man and there are others like me who will understand you and help you understand your talents. You see, when someone like you comes along, it is our responsibility to help. In time, you will want to do the same.”
“Bridget, I don’t get any of this. Gifts, talents, tasks – are you seriously saying this is magic or the supernatural or paranormal or… or… or whatever. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. And that ‘being one of us,’ business, although sweet in another context, it’s kind of creepy if you don’t mind my saying so.
“Listen, I like you a great deal, but you must know this.” Julian became vehement. “I have not heard any clarion calls. I am not going on any sort of silly-assed quest. I do not have a destiny to fulfill.
“There are not going to be any witches, wizards or dragons in my future. There is no ultimate good or absolute evil waiting for me around the corner. Forget the God damned magical animals and talking trees too. Not interested.”
His mouth was hard and tight. Unconsciously he flexed the fingers of his hand trying to dissipate his frustration.
Bridget Bragonier covered her mouth with her hand. She hoped that looking serious and thoughtful might mask her laughter.
“I am in possession of lots of very unpleasant documents, some from my ex-wife and more from her attorneys.” Julian had left Bridget’s side and began to pace as he spoke. “So you’ll understand if I tell you, damsels in distress would be best advised to look elsewhere for a quick rescue. I’m out of that business. I’m retired and plan on staying away from all maidens, distressed or otherwise, for a very long time.
“I don’t believe in magic, either good or bad. I don’t need any miracles or spells. Do you guys deal in vampires or zombies? Well, until recently, I worked with a whole crew of bloodsuckers and a couple of Russian undead guys paid me a visit as you recall. Trust me, I’ve reached my lifetime allotment.
“Oh, by the way, you can keep the damn unicorns to yourself or give ’em to the leprechauns – your call.” He had become more exercised than he intended, but felt he had said what needed saying.
Julian felt tired. He hung his head, “You said there was a life waiting for me. All I want, Bridget, is a quiet spot where I can rebuild myself without people bothering me and without all the rest of this fantasyland of yours!”
Bridget began to chuckle and it rolled easily into a hearty laugh. “Ah my dear boy, it does my old heart good to listen to you. Are you sure you are not even a bit Irish? Such lush and evocative, not to forget colorful and occasionally salty speech is rare anymore. Such mastery. I am, well, frankly stunned that someone like you would have such a, what shall we call it, singular command of the English language?” Her voice dripped condescension and it only made Julian more tired.
“In order to save you from further embarrassing yourself, I will put it to you like this. You have only a meager notion of what you want, however, you have no idea at all of what you need. You have cataloged an exhaustive list of what you do not believe, but Julian, you have not the slightest idea what you do believe.” She took his arm and they continued their walk.
“Please understand this,” she continued. “You will notice I said there was a life waiting for you. You will note I did not promise you a vacation. You, Julian, have work to do and it will be the hardest work you have ever done.
“Now, to the business at hand. I cannot answer many of your questions or address all of your concerns and discussing what you do not believe is, well, silly and rather pointless. So instead, let us talk of something important, shall we?” Julian bridled, but Bridget continued unfazed.
“The world you are familiar with long ago accepted a lie. Because this deception was at the heart of so many things, much of what you know to be true is false. There are those who are able to recognize the deceit in its various forms and act accordingly.
“I can see by your face you are trying to make this fit with what you know. That, Julian, is a grave mistake. Almost none of what you know about reality is true. Yet, you propose to use the untruth to find the truth. Tell me, what is your truth worth when you find it is irredeemably flawed?”
Julian was frustrated, confused and it showed clearly on his face. “Bridget,” he rubbed his forehead. “You make my head hurt, but let’s back up. You said you have a responsibility to act accordingly. Accordingly to what exactly?”
“Now, that is one of your very best questions to date. Simply put, we shine a light into the darkness. We dispel shadows. If we do it correctly, we are able to make the impossible happen.” She smiled.
“Do you understand that only makes my head hurt worse? These answers that aren’t answers at all are not helping.”
“Oh Julian,” Bridget began, “petulance so becomes you. When you become cranky, you are absolutely adorable.” Her laughter was light and unrestrained.
“I hate it when you do that,” Julian said.
“Oh yes I know. I would not do it otherwise.”
Bridget continued. “Julian, you are an exceptional man with a truly original mind. The power of your presence, your spirit, your thought if you will, is integral to who and what you will become. To deny this would be like denying the color of your eyes – do it all you like but when you are done, they will still be that lovely sterling gray.
“You are capable of being focused and methodical, but you know how and when to take risks. Julian, you are a man who will come to possess unbelievable talents and you will bring an unimaginable intensity to their application. I have lived a long time and I have see
n and learned much. Believe me when I say I know what I am talking about in this regard.
“You are also alarmingly short-tempered, madly impetuous and painfully shortsighted. To be sure, those attributes will change as you gain experience. You may trust me, when you gain that experience, you and I will look back in the years to come and laugh and laugh and laugh.”
“One laugh would have been sufficient,” Julian said.
Bridget smiled, walked beside Julian a few more steps, then became serious. “Not everyone will suffer you as I do. Some will treat you far more harshly. Trust me, they will treasure you as I do, but they will not allow you to take the easy road. In fact, if given the choice, they will probably send you up the harder one to teach you not to be so cheeky or peevish.
“Keep this in mind also.” Bridget’s voice turned more serious still and Julian took notice. “This is not a game. There are those who will try to stop you from being what you are meant to be. I must leave that for others to explain. But know it is real and true and deadly. There are those with a vested interest in maintaining the illusion of darkness.”
Julian began to realize he had become quite fond of this not-so-crazy, not-so-old woman. “Where am I going?” Julian asked. “I don’t mean tomorrow. I know that one, but, you know…”
Bridget stood and looked for a long time searching Julian’s face. “As long as where you are going is better than where you have been, does it matter?” She answered, turned and walked toward the house.
Chapter Four
The next morning was clear and crisp. Sunrise was over an hour away, but there was already pink on the eastern horizon.
Bridget confiscated Julian’s map and pored over it as the car worked its way through the maze of Dublin’s streets that would take them to the N1 highway. The professor relaxed in the back seat and looked out the front window as if for the first time.
Julian drove slowly at first adjusting to the car’s right hand drive but picked up speed as his confidence increased. Before they reached the road leading up the rugged Irish coast, the professor was snoring peacefully.
“Bridget, I know you grew up in this, what would you call it, vocation? No doubt, you come from a long line of people who do whatever it is that you do, but this is new to me. You talked last night of skills or gifts or talents or whatever. I have no idea what the correct words are to form questions so I apologize in advance.
“Has navigating whatever reality it is you see that I don’t, has this been easy for you? I mean did you learn quickly? God, that sounds stupid.”
“The language is difficult at first, but it comes in time. You have, however made a blunder.” She looked pleased with herself.
“I’ve not even said much. This is depressing.”
“Normally I would let you finish with your questions before I pointed out your error, however, your error is a perfect place to begin.
“You, Julian, made an assumption, namely that I – to use your words – grew up in this vocation. I did not – no one I have ever met did. This is not a family business. As to whether it has been easy; I would have to say it has been decidedly difficult.
“My family had old money, a thing that is rare in Ireland. As a result, I lived in a privileged world of ideas and debate with large doses of esoteric discussion. The Sight ran in the family, but that was never mentioned for reasons I only discovered much later.
“Ultimately, I was sent away to private school and then finishing school.” Bridget smiled and gave Julian a sidelong glance. “So now you know how I came to be so terribly well educated and perfectly charming.” Julian smirked.
“Like you, like all of us actually, I was introduced to this calling, by another. He was older, but I was just twenty. At twenty, thirty seemed ancient.
“He was a family acquaintance and was often introduced as a professor, although no one ever discussed what he taught exactly. There were whispers, however and I found that thrilling. Still, he was always treated with great respect. Again, years later I would understand why.
“He saw something in me. I do not know what it could have been. I was headstrong and willful, pretty and popular, ignorant and arrogant. If ever there was a more lethal cocktail I do not know what it might have been.
“Oddly, my mentor tolerated me and introduced me to the broad metaphysical concepts and I was passed on to a teacher. The family was not pleased by this turn of events. After hushed and often heated discussions with my mentor, my parents became resigned.
“My teacher saw me for what I was and he took a rather stern line with me, though not always stern enough.
“I went at my studies blithely with all the diligence of one learning a few parlor tricks. I did not understand the power, the responsibility, or the consequences of what I was doing. It was all just a lovely game of make-believe.
“Like you, I was told there were those who wished to stop my progress. I thought this wildly romantic and exciting. Because those thoughts filled my head, I had not the time or the capacity to pay attention.
“I think of my mentor and my teacher often. They were both loving and giving men, well schooled in the ways of the real world.” Bridget closed her eyes for a long moment.
“But,” Julian interjected, “it worked out. You learned what you needed to learn and here you are today. Doubtless, you have helped many people.”
She drew a long breath and let it out slowly. “Everything you say is true. It did work out in the end. I did learn what I needed to learn and, as you say, here I am many, many years later having helped a great many people.
Bridget continued. “There is no need to spare me, my dear. You have a good idea where this story leads. You need not know the details. It is enough to say others paid the price for my callow stupidity.
“I was badly injured and my mentor and my teacher, those two remarkable and generous men, are no more because of me. The shame I felt was made far worse knowing they died willingly so that I might not suffer more.
“So when you lightly make mention of this being a fantasy, and you have mentioned it frequently, go easily there. People die in this fairytale and I am sensitive to that.” Her voice was not unkind, but tipped with melancholy. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she did nothing to check its progress. Julian felt ashamed and stupid, awkward and incredibly thoughtless. Julian looked straight ahead and drove.
Bridget took up her story again. “Well, as you say, it worked out. I was not given up on or abandoned. I received a new mentor and in course a new teacher. They did not need to be hard on me. I was harshness personified when it came to dealing with my failings both real and perceived.
“I studied longer than most. You see, I was steeped in anger and bitterness and for that reason, much of what I learned, I had to relearn again and again.
“In time I forgave myself and once I did, my path became easier. I met and married the professor. He is the perfect partner. He saw all my scars, inside and out, but he never asked questions.
“There were many times I wanted to talk with him, to tell him, but he would not have it. He told me my intention in speaking about my past was not to inform him but to punish myself. At some level, he knew, you see. He always does. He can intuitively feel when and what I need and also when I must be reminded of who I am.
“He calls me a wonder, but he is the wonder. We have made a brilliantly happy life together and we are both content and very much in love. I am very lucky, Julian. Love of this kind does not happen often. Remember that. It is something you will have need of in time.”
Many miles later, after the sun had risen over the Irish Sea, Bridget turned to Julian awaiting his question.
“Bridget, I’m afraid. I don’t know why I’m here. Everything I am doing goes counter to what I know. You say things that are nice to hear late at night but which are difficult to believe when the sun comes up. How do I understand any of what is happening? I’m really not cut out for this sort of thing.”
“I would be worr
ied if you did not have these thoughts,” his companion said. “It would tell me you were not taking this business seriously enough,” she said.
Julian asked, “You say I will find a teacher or he will find me. How will I know him?”
“I can only imagine how much you are going to hate this answer. He or she will arrive and you will know. You will have no doubts.”
“Oh, of course,” Julian said with exasperation slithering through his voice. “Why would I think there was going to be a proper answer to that question – to any question? Silly. I am sorry.”
“Do not be cross. It makes me laugh,” Bridget said but then her mood darkened.
“I realize you do not understand much of what I am saying. Please, do not let your lack of immediate understanding cause you to veer dangerously off course. Believe me, I would like to give you a textbook, but none exists or ever will. You must believe this – the truth of what I say will soon be explained. Do you understand?” she asked and looked earnestly at her companion.
“I would like to say I do, but I can’t. I understand the words well enough, but it is as though some sentences lack verbs while others have no subject and none of them have any punctuation. I can feel something, but it makes little sense.”
He stared into the distance as the car’s engine raced nearly as fast as his thoughts. He was afraid to look at the woman beside him. Afraid he would see her angry or discouraged or sad. Then he heard her chuckle softly.
“Dear Julian, I do wish you could see what I see. You are a man faced with an impossible set of circumstances and what is your response? You tell me the truth and worry that you have disappointed me. How marvelous you are.” She reached out and touched his hand as it rested on the steering wheel. The energy that coursed through her to him was mild and this time comforting.
***
A short time later Bridget indicated a side road ahead and asked Julian to turn off. The professor was still sleeping but she got out and asked Julian to stay with the car.
Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1) Page 4
