He then poured water into a shallow bowl and set it before Brendan’s dog who immediately stood in the bowl and lapped the water noisily until she could take no more onboard. She then stepped out of the water bowl and settled herself between Brendan’s feet.
The boys were ravenous and had managed to make a fair dent in the cookies before Julian said, “Brendan, that is a very fine dog and you will, I know, take good care of her.”
“I-I-I will, Mr. Julian. I will.” Brendan had adopted his mother’s habit of calling Julian ‘Mr. Julian’. It was easier for Brendan to say too.
“Timothy, if you would please give your mother my regards.”
“Aye, sor. That I will,” Timothy said and smiled mischievously.
They left it at that. The boys walked up the street with a very contented dog trotting beside her new best friend, Brendan Maher.
***
For the most part, the nights had been so pleasant for his entire stay in Cappel Vale that Julian had moved the rocking chairs from their place before the fireplace to just outside the front door. He and Sean would sit and rock. Sometimes a passerby would stop for a chat.
Tonight Julian sat alone and reviewed all that had happened during his brief stay. His encounter when overlooking the valley with the Hagan had shaken him. She had met with him several times since and while some things were brought into the light many more remained deeply in the shadows.
The second time he and the Hagan met, he demanded, “How did you do that?” Her answer was quick and hard. “Apparently, where you come from, petulance is tolerated. I can tell you I simply will not wear it. Here you ask questions. You do not demand answers!”
Julian took a deep breath. “You are right. That was rude of me.”
“And petulant,” the Hagan added.
“Yes, and petulant.”
“And insolent and pig headed and stupid,” she chimed in.
“Alright, yes those things too.” This was making him out of sorts.
“What things?” the Hagan said sweetly.
Julian took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and with the taste of gall in his mouth said, “And insolent, pig headed and stupid. Alright? Anything else? Hmmmmm?”
“If I think of anything I’ll be sure to tell you. Now what was it you were asking?”
Julian’s words came out one at a time. He felt to do otherwise would inevitably lead to his strangling this woman. “Please. Tell. Me. How. You. Did. That.”
“Did what?” Moira Hagan sad flatly then cackled wildly.
Julian felt his head would explode.
The Hagan was breathless and said, “Oh, my, I’ve not had this much fun in dog years. I’ll be thanking ya for that.”
Julian was able to eek out through clenched teeth a strangled, “My. Pleasure.”
The Hagan went on to explain, “Oh, that business at the stone wall? Nothing much to it really. I wanted to show you how easy it is to swallow a lie. I pointed and you filled in the rest. I put a suggestion or two out among your thoughts and from there, you saw what you wanted to see.
“Oh, there was a bit of stagecraft, but I just gave you the paints and the canvass. You painted the picture yourself. That you were not seeing what was really there was plain enough. Nobody looks at a bunch of squalid dirt farms and grins like you did.
“I know you are all atwitter to learn how to be a wizard, but trust me, my young eejit, being a wizard is not in the cards for you. This isn’t magic spells and cauldrons. Here, you use your mind to accomplish what needs to be accomplished.
“Now, back to the subject. The thought I let loose in your empty noggin was the easiest way I knew. I took the easy way because you are more than a little dim and timid.”
Julian was incensed. The old woman was baiting him. He knew better but he couldn’t stop himself. “A little dim! Timid! I just want you to know…”
The Hagan shot back. “You want me to know what exactly? What is it you think you can tell me about anything that matters? Don’t be looking daggers at me, little man. I said you’re dim and timid and so you are. I told you I took the easy way with you and so I did. Let me tell you a little something,” she said as she gathered steam.
“Had I taken an active role in the vision you created for yourself of the valley, it would not have been a pretty picture you painted. I could easily have planted in that thing you call a brain your worst fears. Believe me boyo, I could have had you runnin’ away like a little girl. Pay attention when I tell you, an image could have easily been put inside that empty skull of yours that would have rendered you barking mad for the remainder of your days.”
Julian took a number of deep breaths. Each reinforced the certainty that there would be no winning. “So,” he said. “No wizard stuff.”
“Not for you.” Moira snorted and hid her smile.
***
A few lessons later, he asked Moira Hagan to explain something to him. Julian approached the subject with trepidation. He had been experiencing something and it made him uncomfortable.
“I feel unbelievably stupid saying this. I’ve never felt this before, but I’m getting a sense of people. I wish I had the words to explain. It’s as though I can feel them or sense them somehow. Not everyone but some and some more than others. And the list is growing.
“I’ll give you an example. I was sitting in the station reading last week. I put my book down, walked over and opened the door. Then I put a pot on to boil. I picked up my book again, sat down and said, “Good morning Sean. Water will be ready for tea in a minute or so. I looked up and Sean was standing in the doorway. I don’t know who was more shocked him or me.”
Julian continued and the Hagan didn’t try to explain, but let him go on. “The next day I was walking toward St. Michael’s. I stopped under the big elm tree near the Hackett sisters’ place. I don’t know why, but I just said, ‘Jamie Purcell, you be careful up there. Your mother will be angry if you fall out of that tree.’
“Jamie climbed down and stood and stared at me before he took off home at a dead run. I hadn’t seen or heard him, but I could sense that he was there. This is so frustrating. I don’t have the words to make this make any sense.
“For Christ’s sake this is the twenty first century. I’m a sophisticated man, well read and world traveled. I’m not supposed to be saying this stuff.”
With patience and care, Moira explained how what he was sensing was tied directly to what she had been teaching him. His questions and her explanations lasted well into the night.
For Julian the shadows were being pushed back slowly. Understanding was taking the place of conjecture.
***
He sat on the station stoop in his rocker. He didn’t see her, but suddenly and inexplicably he said, “Good evening, Doctor. I don’t often see you out at night.” A moment later Julian saw Dr. Dwyer approach from the heart of the village. Her usual brisk pace had been left behind somewhere and she walked with a slow, stiff gait.
The doctor stopped at the foot of the police station’s flagstone walk. She looked puzzled for a moment then shrugged and said, “I just finished with my last patient. I needed to get out.”
Julian stood at her approach and indicated Sean’s usual chair. She canted her head to one side and looked at the rocker with real longing. She eased into it and let out a contented sigh.
The doctor turned her head and looked at Julian. “How are you getting on, Mr. Blessing?”
“I have no doubt you could answer that a fair bit better than I could,” he said. “I’m sure the villagers think I’m crazy. For my part though, I am enjoying myself, learning a great deal and find myself baffled most of the time.”
The doctor chuckled, “I wouldn’t let that bother you. If you weren’t baffled, you wouldn’t be in Ireland. There is something else that might help you. Ireland is populated almost exclusively by lunatics. Don’t worry, they don’t think you’re crazy.” She reached out and absent-mindedly touched the cuff of his shirt. She bit her li
p trying to suppress her curiosity. Who and what he was had plagued her thoughts since he arrived. She remembered Moira Hagan rifling through Julian’s things.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me everything. If not crazy, then what?” he asked as he watched her.
In a distracted and matter-of-fact tone she said, “They consider you to be pleasantly strange, that’s all. This is lovely material.” She touched his cuff a last time and slowly put her hand back on the arm of her rocker.
“Well, thank you. These shirts were the only things I kept from my former life. I was,” he thought a moment then continued, “I was in an industry that required such things. These were just part of the uniform. Still, I liked them so I hung on to them.”
Ailís Dwyer said, “They fit you very well.” That was what she meant, but it isn’t what she intended to say. She blanched and tried to cover her forwardness by smiling pleasantly. She continued to look appreciatively at his shirtsleeve while she formulated a distracting follow up question.
“You know it’s strange,” said Julian interrupting the doctor’s thoughts. “Strange or odd, I really don’t know which, but my shirts seem to be a rather hot topic. Mrs. Hagan asked about them too,” he said simply. “Yes, she wanted to know all kinds of details.”
The doctor swallowed hard. Her eyes followed his sleeve over his shoulder to his collar. Hesitantly she raised her glance still higher and found the last thing she wanted to find. He was staring at her and his look was enigmatic. His pale silver eyes were penetrating and unrelenting. She smiled as innocently as only a guilty woman could smile.
He looked away and smiled a smile of his own. It softened his face and made him look kind. To the doctor’s relief, Julian changed the subject. “How go things for you, Doctor?” She relaxed. He could have made the moment uncomfortable for her and she admired his restraint.
She considered his question and her smile turned ironic and her mood suddenly somber. Ailís Dwyer shook her head. “I have been stuck in my examination rooms from early this morning until just awhile ago. The children are constantly in need of inspections for head lice. It is a common occurrence. Can’t be avoided in the country.
“I just needed to get out of that place for awhile and get some air. Too many late nights and too many early mornings.”
Julian looked thoughtful and concerned. “Doctor, you don’t seem like yourself tonight. You seem tired, but also angry. If I’m off the mark, please forgive me. If I’m not, is there anything I can do to help? I listen well if you would like to talk.”
“Angry and tired,” she said without emotion. “I’ve been more and more like that recently. I get so frustrated with myself, with my patients, with life in general. There is always so much to do without a moment to myself. Sometimes…”
Ailís Dwyer’s hazel eyes glistened and then welled with tears as she spoke. A single tear coursed over her cheekbone, hung and then continued down her cheek. She sniffed and tried to regain her composure, but another tear followed the first and her eyes burned.
Without looking at her, Julian took out a clean handkerchief and offered it. She took it and nodded her thanks, but did not use it to staunch the flow of tears. She clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hand instead.
The doctor closed her eyes and set her head on the rocking chair’s high back as she willed herself to stop crying. Embarrassment washed over her face. “No one should see me like this, least of all him,” she thought.
Her eyes burned even more and the tears wouldn’t stop. Julian could sense her anguish and more, he felt the deep ache inside her. She had been running on adrenaline for too long. She hadn’t taken a break. She had watched her workload increase. She was exhausted. Slowly, even the tears were too tired to seep from her eyes.
“It will be okay,” Julian whispered slowly, emphatically. “It has to be.” His smile was soft and kind. “Doctor, there really isn’t another choice. Oh, maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon, I promise.”
He reached out his hand slowly, gently and offered it palm up. She took it and felt relief wash over her. She felt she could, even if only for a moment, set her work and her worries down. Sheltered in the lea of this strange man’s tenderness and compassion, a moment was enough.
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” was all she whispered in return. Then, with a nearly painful slowness, she rose and made her way back to her office. Julian watched her go and ached inside for her.
***
The doctor turned off lamps as she moved through the practice, then climbed the wide stairs to the living quarters above. She looked in on her son, kissed and covered him and made her way to her own bed. She undressed and got under the covers. Her sigh wasn’t from comfort, but from fatigue.
Julian had, she felt, dealt with her with surprising compassion and kindness. She could hear a quiet strength in his voice, although he said almost nothing. She could still feel the warmth of his hand. She felt rather than heard his words and knew they were true for him and for her.
“It will be okay, it has to be,” he had said. She knew it as a simple truth. There wasn’t another choice. She couldn’t let it all spin out of control. Timothy and all too many people depended on her. She not only had to be present, but also at her best.
“Was this American what he seemed to be?” She wondered. “What does he seem to be? What is he doing here?”
She smiled and thought to herself, “I have to remember to poison Moira Hagan for dragging me into that whole silly shirt business.” With that thought, she started to drift and then added, “But first, I have to find out what she found out.”
Julian’s handkerchief was still clutched tightly in her hand and his words whispered, “Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon, I promise.” She had no reason to, but she believed him. She fell into a deep and dreamless sleep with that thought.
Julian continued to sit alone in the dark with only his thoughts for company. He could not explain why he had said what he said or acted the way he had with Dr. Dwyer.
He had never been a man tuned in to people. He understood what motivated them. He knew the scores of reasons they did one thing and not another. But he knew them only in an academic sense. No feeling, no emotion, no attachment or connection to or for anyone. His failed marriage proved that. His clients loved him and his ex-wife hated him. What more was there to say?
Tonight he knew, sensed and felt it all. He had known the doctor would appear. He sensed her frustration. He felt the deep pain inside her although she tried to cover it with light conversation. He smiled at that thought.
Then Julian’s smile turned melancholy as he wondered why things happened as they did. Why had his life led him here? What was causing him to experience these unsettling events and feelings? He tried to put that aside for a moment but could not stop his wondering.
Why was a woman so kind and generous as Ailís Dwyer constantly on the verge of exhaustion? Why did he feel drawn to her? Finding no answers and with a slight wind chilling the air, he went inside.
***
Days flowed into an agreeable sameness as summer drifted day-by-day toward fall. The village streets were empty of playing, happy children as the scrubbed versions of their summer selves were marched to school at St. Michael’s.
Julian made it a practice to get to know the names of the people of the village, but he learned little else. He was frequently met with the phrase, “You’ve not been long among us.” He didn’t take this as a slight, but only as the way of the villagers.
***
One Sunday, as he left Church with the Mahers, Julian asked Sean about an ornately carved pew that sat empty every Sunday. The pew was on the Epistle Side of the transept and seemed to inspire reverence.
“That’s for Squire Lanigan that is,” Sean whispered as he and Julian dipped their fingers in the holy water font out of habit and each man crossed himself automatically on the way out of church.
“Squire Lanigan? Who is he? Has he been aw
ay? I’ve never seen anyone in that pew.”
“Ah, Julian aren’t you are a great one for the questions. This is only one of the many reasons you will always be Chief Constable. Why you are a regular Sherlock Holmes while, poor Sean Maher will be nothing but your student forever.”
Pleasantries were exchanged with Father Fahey and Mayor Cahill at the front door of the church and within three feet Julian whispered, “Sean, just a couple of things if you don’t mind. First, I’m an assistant constable and second, a man more full of shit than you, I have never met.”
“For that Oi’ll be expecting to see you at the Confession next Saturday Julian Blessing,” Father Fahey said in a voice that was directed with surgical precision to strike Julian in the back without ruffling anyone standing nearby.
Sean looked on in mock horror. The priest continued, “And isn’t it Sean Maher you’ll be bringing with you?”
“But good Father Fahey, amn’t Oi as shocked as your goodly self at the harsh and intemperate language used by this sinner.”
“Trust that there are not enough confessional hours throughout all the world that would allow you to catch up on your sins, Constable Maher.”
Sean mumbled “Look what you’ve doon now,” but Julian was too busy laughing to hear. Not so busy, however, that he didn’t feel the slap on the back of his head delivered by Kathleen Maher. Sean laughed and his wife took a menacing step toward him. He retreated instinctively.
“Any two children in this village behave better than the two of you,” she said and marched her own children home without a look back.
Chapter Twelve
The inside of the manor house was cold. No fires burned in the fireplaces and the wind blew across chimney tops causing the house to feel hollow and lifeless. Seated in a wingback chair before the dead fireplace, the Pale Man sat with a map across his knees and scowled.
Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1) Page 11
