“He was there, Hanna, I tell you—it was Da.”
Hanna dreamily watched the smoke from her cigarette curl up toward the ceiling. She picked up her glass and sipped slowly at her ale.
“Sure and you were dreamin’, hon. How could it be otherwise?”
“I told you. I crept in to sleep with Ma because of all the creakin’ in the hallway. After a while, something woke me and I sat up and saw him at the foot of the bed. His back was to us and he was admirin’ himself in the vanity mirror—you should’ve seen him, preenin’ and twistin’ his moustache. But when he looked up and saw me reflected in the glass, he gave me a look I’ll never forget. It froze the blood in my veins. Ma was dead to the world and I kept pinchin’ her, but she wouldn’t wake up.”
“How old were you then?”
“About twelve. We were still in Killarney in the cottage on Ball Lane.”
“He was a handsome man, Da. He had lovely red highlights in his hair. You shouldn’t be afraid of your own feyther.”
“I was terrified. I don’t remember him—I was too young when he died, but I’ve seen pictures and it was him. No doubt about it.”
Meg shivered at the memory and happened to glance across the table and let out a gasp.
“Mikey—how many times have I told you not to be in here listenin’ to adult conversation? Be off with you now—go on, shoo!”
Reluctantly, the dark haired boy gathered up his toys and shuffled out of the room. Meg waited until she heard the screen door slam behind him.
“Damn. I had no idea he was there. I don’t want to be fillin’ his head with these things and puttin’ fears in him.”
“Too late for that, I’m afraid. Ma and he are thick as thieves and Lord knows what things she tells him, while he’s sittin’ up in her room day after day.”
Meg fidgeted nervously with her long dark hair and sighed, “I know—I came up the other day and she was sittin’ there drawin’ him the picture— you know, the snake curl’d round the rose? I got so angry, I shouted at her—oh, what’s the use? She’s set in her ways and he adores her. He hangs on her every word.”
Hanna reached across the dining room table and patted her sister’s hand. “Now, now. You can’t shelter him forever. We grew up with it and it hasn’t harmed us. Just get him aside and tell him it’s only blarney, like leprechauns and fairies. Kids grow out of these trials.”
“I didn’t. I used to be so scared listenin’ to Auntie and Eugie talkin’ about ghosts. I’m still scared to be in the house alone.”
“Mikey’s fine. He’s a somber little man though—his black eyes and the way he watches everythin’. He doesn’t miss a beat.”
“That reminds me. I got a phone message the other day from his teacher, Miss Tracey. She’s concerned about Mikey and wants to meet me to discuss his progress. She’s concerned about his absences.”
Hanna looked sharply at Meg. “You’re not lettin’ him play hooky, are you?”
“Really, Hanna.” Meg laughed, “I’m not that soft. But you know what that little tartar did the other day? I was down puttin’ some coal in the furnace and I guess he didn’t hear me comin’ back up because I caught him sniffin’ the coal fumes as they came up the grate.”
“Why on earth would he do that?”
“He was deliberately tryin’ to make himself puke so he could stay off school.”
Hanna colored with anger. “That little bugger! I hope you spanked him good and sent him to school.”
Meg hesitated and said nervously, “I couldn’t send him Hanna—he began pukin’ and I was really scared. I had to phone Doctor De Sousa and he suggested that I keep him home and keep an eye on him.”
“Oh great! He deliberately pulls this prank and you give him exactly what he wants. What am I goin’ to do with you?”
“What else could I do? I punished him later and made him stay in after school when all his friends were out. I told Miss Tracey and I guess that’s what she wants to talk about.”
Hanna got up and reached for her coat draped over the back of a sofa chair. “Well, it’s not lookin’ good, and that’s for certain. I’m telling you Meg, you need to have a firm hand with that boy.”
“He’s sensitive, Hanna. He’s not a bad boy, just a normal red-blooded eight year old.”
Hanna smiled at her sister. “I know. I love him too. Tell me how the meetin’ turns out. I got to run and get jock’s supper ready or I’ll never hear the end of it. Give me a call tomorrow, sis.”
She gave Meg a peck on the cheek and hurried out to catch her streetcar. Meg watched her walk towards Bloor Street and then wearily turned back to clean the table. Like Hanna, she was concerned about Mikey too and was not looking forward to this meeting.
Buen cambio de género, @johnjgeddes. La literatura fantástica es fascinante. Particulamente creo que se nutre de muchas cosas que, a Dios gracias, el hombre ingnora pero que intuye que pueden existir. Por lo visto sabremos más de estas extrañas "visiones" y de cómo puede enfrentar un niño este tipo de cosas. A veces creo que muchos de nuestros antepasados, familiares cercanos, nos acompañan en este recorrido que llamamos vida y en un plano no tan físico. Te abrazo
Gracias, Nancy. Sé que hay un aspecto mágico y maravilloso de la vida porque esta historia de dos partes es autobiográfica y las visiones y apariciones fueron parte de mi infancia :)
Maravilloso! Estaré atenta.:)
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nice story, It rejuvenates some memories...my mum once told me about a man that kept walking all over our house at night and would vanish the moment he sensed that he was being watched.
i look forward to the rest of the story.
Thank you!