In just a few weeks it would be time for Mathew to climb the path to the top of the cliff. He was fourteen now. Simon's time was still a couple of years away. They made their camp for the night at the foot of the path.
Night came, and they were lying on their backs, watching wisps of smoke rise from their small fire. The great milky sweep of stars that formed the Path of Souls arched across the sky.
Simon knew Mathew was anxious.
“Big Brother. I have been very lucky.”
“How is it you have been so lucky?”
“I was living with Grandfather when he had his dreams of the White Man Coming to the River. You and I are both his grandsons. But I was there.”
“Why does this make you so lucky?”
“I was there so he asked me to care for this dream with him. I have dreamt of it since then myself. In my dream the white man who will destroy the River comes wearing robes of wolf hides.”
“In Joe Loon's dream they do not mean to harm us.”
“Yes. But in my dream I show the white man that the Keewatin children are dying of their poisons, but they do not understand, or they do not care. They throw their wolf robes over them and pretend they do not see me.”
“Some say Little Brother has had his vision.”
“This I why I am lucky. That Joe Loon has asked me into his dream.”
This Man stepped from the darkness to sit in the firelight between the two boys who were still and quiet, lying on their backs, studying the stars. Mathew sat up and looked at his cousin. Simon turned and smiled.
“I am afraid Little Brother.”
“What is Big Brother afraid of? I will fight it with you.”
“I am afraid to be alone on that mountain for four days and four nights.”
Simon turned his head to look up at the peak, a silhouette framed by stars.
“You will not be alone. We have heard the elders speak of this.”
“Tell me again.”
“They say on the first night the Great Creator will send an owl to call out to all the spirits that Mathew Loon is here. The second night the spirits of your ancestors will find you.”
As Simon began to list the nights of Mathew's search for his dream vision, This Man looked to the stars and raised his arms and opened his hands, and though faint at first, barely distinguishable, the Northern Lights started to emerge out of the black sky, glistening white and green, green and white. Mathew saw the delight in his cousin's eyes, looked up, saw the First Lights, and settled back again.
“And on the third night Waussnodae will dance across the heavens for you, and you will know your ancestors join this dance for it is a dance of great joy.”
The boys were quiet for a long time, watching the lights grow as waves shimmered and shrank then grew wider and broader with a soft trace of blue rippling at the edge. Simon stretched his leg to touch Big Brother's foot with his.
“The fourth night your vision will come.”
“This is my fear. I am afraid my vision will not come.”
“The elders say it comes when you are ready.”
“And if it does not come at all the elders say this means I choose for myself how to be a man. I am free to walk any path. That too is my fear. For how will I know if I choose the right path?”
Again the boys were quiet. A log popped, sending sparks to the heavens to join the show. Mathew sighed.
“I have never liked the sound of the owl calling down the valley. It is a sad sound.”
“That was when you were a boy. When you hear him from the mountain top, he will be telling the world Big Brother is a man.”
The night in May of 1945 when the war for Europe ended, Brian found himself caught up in the celebrations at the very pub in Donegal where the B&B owner had offered him the deal years before, and for the first time in years Brian found himself entertaining drinking companions with his long-lost dreams and plans for the Great Lodge at Innish Cove. As he told his stories and his dreams and the bits of plans that came to him in the midst of the great exultation of the evening, he found himself believing in them again. The next day, as the world declared life should begin again, he decided to resurrect his plans.
He knew he needed to break the cycle of his heavy drinking to have his plans taken seriously by anyone who might want to invest. To do that, he broke the cycle of his travel by heading south to the pier in Cleggan where he took the ferry to Inis Bo Finne, the Island of the White Cow. There he hired himself out to the island's commercial fishermen when the mackerel and pollack were in season, and he worked as a turf cutter the rest of the year. Both jobs earned a decent wage for the island economy, and both were hard labor. And most importantly, he knew the island's small villages of Fawnmore and Knock offered little of the temptation found so easily on the mainland.
He left the island when he had a pocket full of savings and the confidence an evening's pint didn't lead to a second and third and then the whiskey. He decided to begin again in Donegal, at the pub where the story of the Great Lodge at Innish Cove was most alive. He was telling the story of the near miss with the B&B owner and how the lady girl stepped forward that night with a flash of steel and a touch of spice.
“I saw her come in. You couldn't help but notice her. She was stunnin'. But I had forgotten her as I'm back sharin' the schemes I have for the place. Well, just as I begin an understandin' that me man standin' there in front of me has his own schemes to steal this dream away from me, an' as the Red Bull Demon begins loadin' a thunderous right hand an' poor ol' Aidan Howley, poor ol' Aidan, he's dancin' all round tellin' me to take 'er easy here Bri. Well then right in the middle of what's soon to be a terrible dust up the lady girl is standin' there between us an' we're all wonderin' what she means to do until she shows herself to be a powerful righteous woman, a righteous woman indeed, who tells this fellow to feck off an' he curls his tail round his scrotum an' scoots out of here. An' to top it off, the fellow she's with, he buys me drinks the rest of the evenin'.”
“So what's your plan for gettin' the money you're needin'?”
“I've near enough now for transport to Chicago where I'll room with some of me da's family an' look for somethin' promisin' success. When I have the capital, I'll head north to Kenora, in Northwest Ontario. They call it a frontier town, where the great wilderness starts. I need to begin my serious study there. So if you know of anyone payin' a man's wages, I'd be obliged.”
When it was clear the war was ending, Maureen grew hopeful again. Kevin said they would just lay low during the war and emerge after to take advantage of Britain's certain post-war weakness. She became alert again, eager to see a face that would recognize hers, that might approach with a furtive whisper of a Republican call or a message from an IRA unit. She decided to make another trip, to look for any movement or trace of one, to listen for any rumors or hints of organization.
Kevin often referred to the Cork Brigade, so she traveled there, again recording her use of funds, but found nothing. She headed back to the West, listening for anything that sounded like the IRA's renewal.
Finding nothing she headed north, stopping in Donegal at the pub where Kevin had taken her, where a woman could come comfortably alone. She heard little about the IRA during her travels and increasingly what she did hear was the story of its demise. She pictured the valise buried behind her mother's cottage and after years of presuming she was simply holding it for others, she finally allowed herself to wonder who the money belonged to if the IRA no longer existed.
When she entered the pub she immediately saw Brian, and there was a smile in the memory of that night. As an idea began to form her smile brightened.
He looked much older nearly six years later, but so had she until her smile refreshed her.
“Of course the lodge hall will include a grand Irish pub. Americans lovin' all things Irish, I figure we'll make it look an' feel like this very place ya got here, Johnny boy. You need to take a picture of it for me before I go.”
T
he fellow drinking next to Brian, a new companion, waved to another as he spoke to Brian.
“I think you better be hirin' me an' Padraig just to drink wit' your guests at night an' provide what Americans call the local color.”
“I'll be writin' to let you know when I'm ready for you.”
“After you write to Mr. Ernest Hemmingway, or was it John Wayne?”
Brian turned to find it was Maureen standing in front of him.
“Tis a pity how much of the best of Ireland is always takin' themselves over the ocean to prove what they can do.”
“The most bounteous blessin' on us all lads, it's herself, the lady girl of me story. Here's the very beauty what scared the beast. I told ya she was dazzlin'.”
“If I introduced you to someone who can invest in your Garden of Eden across the sea, what are my chances of joinin' the adventure of it?”
“Ah, Lady Girl, my guess is you'd be welcome in any adventure of your choosin'.”
Brian and Maureen settled in at a corner table, away from the others who couldn't help but look their way. When Brian returned with a second pint for him and a second half for her, he thought she had moved her chair closer to his.
“You gotta respect me on this point, Brian Burke. I've never been comfortable lettin' anyone knowin' I have so much money.”
“You can rest easy, Lady Girl, an' if it appears an insult then I'll be beggin' your pardon in advance, but I assure you I've not been takin' your offer seriously enough that I'd tell anyone. You want me to believe you have the exact outstandin' sum I'm lookin' for, an' you'll give it to me, but there's no story attached tellin' how it comes to pass that a simple Derry girl has such a sum.”
“Good luck is rare enough, it has to be held accountable?”
“It should have a name, yeah.”
“A name?”
“Or enough of a description so's I get to see where bad luck might be lurkin'.”
“It's a silly convention, this needin' to know where money comes from. Surely it came from someplace else before that an' before that as well.”
Brian's smile had been growing.
“It's the story that makes it real for me.”
“Maybe it just fell from the sky.”
“I could believe yourself fell from the sky, but believin' in angels is different than believin' angels would offer me quick riches on earth.”
“There's plenty of stories of men of faith rewarded.”
“In the Bible, sure, but naught in Connaught.”
“Then you can just ask me to marry you.”
Brian's first look of surprise quickly became disappointment.
“I see… Now I get it. Your game is to spend the night havin' fun at the expense of a fool an' see if you can keep him buyin' an' keep him flatterin' as you go about makin' him out a fool.”
“Don't be silly. I'm sayin' you'd have your answer for the lads. You can tell them the money came from the dowry.”
“You're sayin' you're not playin' with me?”
“Sure I'm playin' with you, but all to good purpose.”
“An' what might that good purpose be?”
“To get to knowin' each other quicker. If we're startin' off with a laugh, I can already reach over an' touch your arm.” And she did. “But I'm altogether serious when I say you an' I should begin talkin' about how much fun we could have if we was playin' the same game, all together so.”
“That's what you're doin'?”
“I've heard your Eden in the New World wilderness story twice now. I said Amen the first time and it sounds even better these years later. So I've got the money your dreams need an' the Good Lord knows how I love this crumblin' bit a' island and will always be true, but if we could go live an adventure with your red men in the forests, why would we stay? Make me your business partner if you're not ready to talk about gettin' married.”
“First you tell me where your money came from after it came from where it came from before.”
“So you don't want to marry me?”
“You're dazzlin' me an' me head is swimmin'. But I'm still in mournin'.”
“It's been five years you said.”
“A respectable distance by any measure from poor Deirdre's demise, God rest her soul in Heaven above. But I'm still in mournin' for me children an' that starts over again every day I ain't with 'em.”
“Ah, the first I hear of the children. Tell me about 'em.”
“I don't talk about them. There's no fun in that story, so let's leave it there for now.” Maureen took a sip of her Guinness.
“You confessed to me that night, sittin' at that table right there. Remember? About what violence can do to a good man's soul.”
“I don't remember callin' myself a good man an' surely wouldn't now. I've done things since that I'm most ashamed of an' won't confess until me oldest boy himself can serve as my confessor.”
Maureen waited for more, but Brian was quiet.
“Just the same, I'll even the score an' confess what I did to get this money, where the money came from.”
“I just want to hear it, an' we'll move on from there.”
“An' it's just this once. If you accept me as your partner, you accept what I did to get the money, an' we don't ever talk about it again.”
“Of course, Lady Girl.”
“No. Put the “Lady Girl” aside and tell me you swear to it.”
“I swear to it.”
“Where I come from an oath means somethin'.”
“A place called Ireland?”
“An' you'll forgive me.”
“An' I'll forgive you? It's not my place to forgive you. But I'll only be acceptin' your money an' yourself as my partner if I accept what you did to get it.”
“Of course.” Maureen edged her chair closer and leaned in close to Brian so she could talk softly. “You see, I spent time in London, before the war started. I went there to do what some will think was a terrible thing. But understand, I was young.”
“You're young still.”
“I was just 18, or 19, when an older man came along. He seemed so wise, an' he had some ideas. An' it seemed I fit right in with some of his schemes.”
“I have no idea what you're sayin' here.”
“He was rich. I liked that, because my family was threadbare an' crust poor even before Da… died. So when this older man asked me to come live with him, in London… He did regular business in London, and so he had rented a flat. He asked me to stay there an' take care of it for him, an' if I did, he'd take care of me. He'd not only take care of all my expenses and pay me a wage, he'd buy me dresses an' take me out to fancy places to make me feel special if I would…” She sipped from her glass to study Brian's face, but he was only confused. “If I would treat him special. All I had to do was be nice to him when he visited me in his flat, you know, do what he likes to make him smile. When he made his offer, I found it very easy to say yes.”
She saw the dawn of understanding.
“Jaysus, I've heard of such but always figured it was just more story than actual occurrence.”
“There was lots a' times he didn't come around for weeks an' weeks, an' for those occasions he'd leave me an extra stack of pound notes to live on. An' then I figured out all I needed to do was ask for more an' he'd give me more. My scheme was to save all of it I could, so when he wasn't 'round to take me out to restaurants I lived tightfisted, miserly, beans and bread. I know how to live on the cheap, I'd done it all my life. And I'd keep a look out for part-time jobs to earn.”
“It was that fellow you were with the night we met. I could tell there was somethin' between you.”
“Kevin? No, it wasn't Kevin. Kevin's more like my older brother, or uncle. This other fellow, let's just call him my first business partner.”
“So in your first partnership you managed a flat in London for the amusement of your partner?”
“Sure, an' it taught me to be a very good partner. An' provided me with the investment capital
your dreams need to come true.”
After meeting for three straight nights—Maureen first appreciating Brian's dream, then shaping and reshaping his plans, with Brian's delighted thanks—Maureen decided it was time to close the first phase of her plan, to find a cover for getting out of Ireland with the money and make something extraordinary of it.
“I have a proposition for the man with the grand dreams.”
“Each one you've made has been worth me listenin'.”
“I'll buy us two airline tickets, Dublin to New York, New York to Toronto, then we'll find how to get to Kenora, by bus or by airplane, once we get to Toronto.”
“I'm learnin' to like it when you're the boss.”
“I leave now to retrieve enough money to pay for our travels and we'll meet again in Dublin. When we arrive in Kenora we'll need hotel rooms for a fortnight. But only by bein' there can we get serious about makin' plans. We need to talk with the proper people, we need to see the land an' explore the place a bit, an' collect the information we'll need to mount a proper plan.”
“I get no response at all?”
“Response to what, now?”
“Me sayin' I like it when you're the boss.”
“I'm good at it.”
“There's few men would accept a young woman as boss in a venture like this, that's all I'm pointin' out.”
“That's the fault in others.”
Brian found his smile deepening.
“As I am sayin' yes I'm askin' for two days an' maybe three before we depart. I need to go get… a blessin,' I guess, from my family. I can be ready in three days.”
“We'll be gone but a fortnight.”
“What's excitin' about you, Lady Girl, is you give this the feel of a true start. An' if this next step is the first real step, well, I got to visit my village before I take it. Nothin' may come of it, but my family needs to know this has begun.”
The 53rd Parallel Page 9
