Apologies again for the slow pace of updates, but I'm still in the thick of the school summer holidays. Hopefully normal service will be resumed again in September. This chapter includes a song that Hershel asked Beth to sing in the first episode of season 3, Seed. I hope I have used the correct one because it was the only traditional Irish song I could find in relation to the name, Paddy Reilly. If anyone else knows better, then please do let me know. Thank you to everyone taking the time to read this fic and leave a review, it's much appreciated. - Mrs P.
The Twisting Knife of Loving You
Chapter 21
Beth sat in the cafeteria with Judith on her knee; the baby was being particularly clingy to her since she'd returned from the supply run. Hershel mentioned that the little girl had been fussy all day, he'd checked her over and she didn't appear to be sick. His memory on such matters was patchy, but he seemed to recall that babies went through a separation anxiety phase. He did remember his youngest daughter at that age, and how she would scream non-stop whenever Annette was out of sight.
"Daryl tried singing a lullaby to settle Judith down for her nap, but she was having none of it," her father explained.
"Daryl sang?" Beth questioned in disbelief.
Hershel chuckled.
"Well, it was more of a soft growl, but he tried," he said.
"Aw, Judy just missed me, is all. Look, she's happy as can be right now," the young blond smiled as the baby fiddled with her hair.
"Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma..." Judith babbled.
"Did you hear that? Is she calling me mama?" Beth was shocked.
Rick entered the cafeteria to fill up his water bottle, and he heard the whole thing. He found himself getting a little choked up as he thought about Lori. It was perfectly natural that his daughter would respond to Beth the way she did, but he couldn't help thinking about the birth mother she would never know. He recalled what Carl had said earlier that day, about him forgetting all about Lori, and it stung. He tried to slip back outside before he was noticed, so that he could continue his moment of private contemplation, but the young blond saw and hurried after him with Judith in her arms.
"Rick, please wait," she called out.
He reluctantly slowed his pace to let her catch up.
"I haven't been teaching Judy to call me mama; she just kinda came out with it. I mean, I know you said before that I was like a mother to her, but I would never just presume that you'd be okay with it. I don't think Carl would like it, either way," Beth frantically tried to explain when she saw the troubled look on his face.
Rick sighed and gave her a reassuring smile as he tenderly stroked her cheek.
"It's alright," he said as he took his daughter into his arms.
"Before Carl was born, Lori got all these books on parenting, and we watched a whole bunch of TV shows, of course, we still didn't have a clue what the hell we were doing when he actually arrived. But I do remember that most babies make that mama sound first, because it's the easiest for them to vocalise, or something," he explained.
"Oh, okay, makes sense I guess," Beth felt relieved but also slightly disappointed, despite her earlier protestations.
It wasn't that she didn't want Judith to call her mama, but she wanted Rick to be okay with it first. She waited for him to say something more on the matter, and to maybe give his approval, but he didn't. He excused himself instead, and handed his daughter back to Beth so he could return to watch duty.
Carl was waiting for him when he got back to the guard tower. The boy was nonchalantly leaning against the railings as if he didn't care that he had company, but he threw his dad a quick glance of acknowledgement.
"What you said earlier, that I'd forgotten all about your mom, you know it ain't true, right?" Rick asked as he broke the silence between them.
Carl scowled and kept staring ahead, but he didn't reply.
"Y'know, just because I made the choice to let another woman into my life, it don't mean I don't think about your mom every single day. How could I not, when I see her every time I look at you, or Judith? She's always with me," he explained.
"If that's true, then how can you be with Beth?" His son asked with incredulity.
"It ain't about choosing one over the other; I got room in my heart for both of them. Your mom didn't stop loving me when she thought I was dead, even though she went with Shane. I can see that now, and I guess I knew it anyway. No matter how much I wish I could change what happened between us, I can't. I will love your mom until I take my final breath, but I love Beth too, and I hope someday you'll be able to accept that," Rick gave his boy a hopeful look.
"And what if I can't?" Carl questioned.
"Then I guess you'll be heaping a whole lotta unhappiness on yourself, and on the rest of us too. Is that really what you want, when there's more than enough misery to go around as it is?" He wished that his son would see sense.
"If that's how it's gotta be," the boy was resolute and his father's heart sank once again.
Jonah spent his first week at the prison working on making himself indispensable to the rest of the group. Nothing was too much trouble for him, and he went out of his way to be helpful with any small job that needed doing. He soon realised that the prison could be a sweet long-term refuge, if he could only get rid of the deadwood they were carrying. There was no room for sentiment; he had learnt that the hard way during his time on the road. If a person wanted to survive, they had to be willing to make the tough calls, and he was. It was only common sense to realise that the supplies they scavenged from the ruins of civilisation wouldn't last forever, and as far as he was concerned, they were back to survival of the fittest.
The claim Jonah made about being a decent hunter paid off, when he caught a couple of deer on his first time out with Daryl. The young man was seeking to ingratiate himself with the older hunter, and it was working as they went out together most days. Jonah spent the rest of his time subtly manipulating the discontented folks within the group. He figured that the more people he could get to question their current living arrangements; the easier it would be to do something about it. He was preparing for another hunting trip with Daryl, when Rick entered the cell block and strode over to them with urgency.
"Michonne's gone out into the woods with Tyreese and Sasha. She says she saw someone watching the prison, and there's a car alarm going off somewhere out there too," he explained.
"You think it could be him again?" Daryl asked in reference to the Governor.
"Maybe one of his men, but we need to find out for sure." Rick said as he grabbed his rifle.
"Damn straight. If that one-eyed dick is back on the scene, I got something for that other eye of his."
The hunter slung his crossbow over his shoulder and signalled for Jonah to follow him.
They made their way behind the treeline and cautiously moved deeper into the woods. There was a rustling sound up ahead and Daryl readied his crossbow. Sasha suddenly ran into view and upon seeing the others, she shouted out a warning.
"Walkers. Run."
Michonne and Tyreese appeared with their weapons drawn and bloodied as they all made their way back to the prison.
"What the hell?" Daryl questioned once they were safely through the first gate.
Sasha pointed back towards the woods as a horde of walkers began to shamble towards them.
"We got a ways in, close to the road, and that's when we saw them, they must have been drawn in by the sound of the car alarm," she explained.
"You managed to get to the car and turn it off?" Rick asked because it was no longer audible.
"No, the battery musta died." Tyreese said.
"What about that guy you were chasing, did you find him?" Daryl asked Michonne.
She shook her head.
The side of the prison perimeter fence that was closest to the woods was fast filling up with walkers. They growled and clawed at the wire in greater numbers than ever before, which made the place seem a lot less secure. The group made a start on thinning them out before a threatened breach could be made.
"This has gotta be the Governor's handy work," Daryl said angrily as he plunged his knife into another skull.
"Who the hell is this Governor guy, anyway?" Jonah questioned.
He was perturbed by this unexpected turn of events, but he needed to find out if there was any way to turn it to his advantage. He reasoned that the threat from outsiders could be exploited to help him plant further seeds of discontent within the group. The fences had a few weak spots, and he imagined that it wouldn't take much to rig things up so that some walkers could push through. It would be a risky business, but a manufactured walker attack was one way of picking off the weaker prison dwellers.
Jonah could see that Rick was a good man, and his vision for maintaining their little oasis in the wilderness was an honourable one. But this world didn't belong to men like him anymore, it never really had, and he knew he had to make sure everyone realised that.
The able members of the group worked through the night to get the walker numbers down to more manageable levels. There seemed to be a steady stream of them coming out of the woods, and Rick led a small party out at first light to investigate the surrounding area. They couldn't find any more evidence of foul play, other than the car that had been abandoned on the road. He wondered if the huge herd they had been tracking before was on its way through, and if the sudden increase in walkers were merely pilot fish for a larger threat. He contemplated the same thing about the mystery man Michonne had spotted, and the person he was likely working for. Rick cursed himself again for not killing the Governor when he had the chance. There was no telling what horrors he had in store for them next, and they were on the back foot from the get go by not having any clue where he was holed up, or who he was with. A quick sweep of Woodbury hadn't yielded any clues, the place was overrun with walkers, and they were still no closer to finding the Governor.
The events of the previous day had proven to be very unsettling for the prison inhabitants, and although they had mostly returned to their regular duties, something in the atmosphere had changed. They all felt it, and it had the effect of making everyone edgy, the younger and older members of the group particularly so. Hershel was doing his best to keep them calm and he selected reassuring bible passages to read aloud, but they didn't seem to be doing much good. He noticed that folks weren't really listening as they chatted nervously amongst themselves, and so he beckoned his youngest daughter over to him.
"Bethy, sing Paddy Reilly for me, please," he begged.
Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled the way her mother would always round off a family get together by singing that song. Hershel saw the sadness that her memories had invoked, but still he pressed his case once more.
"Your momma loved that song, mostly because she knew how much it meant to me. Sing it just this once for me, and I'll never ask for it again," he pleaded.
Hershel was feeling melancholy, despite his attempts to lift the spirits of the rest of the group. A private nagging fear told him that they wouldn't have too many more nights like this, with their loved ones gathered near, and he wanted to hear that song, even if it was for the last time.
Beth dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her blouse, she took a deep breath and then nodded to her father. She smiled in a sad way as her sister, Glenn and Rick came back into the cell block and they took a seat as she prepared to sing.
"I'm dedicating this song to my momma, Annette Greene, she sang it more beautifully than I ever will, but for her, and for everyone else I love, here goes..."
The Garden of Eden has vanished, they say
But I know the lie of it still;
Just turn to the left at the bridge of Finea
And stop when half way to Cootehill.
'Tis there I will find it,
I know sure enough
When fortune has come to my call,
Oh, the grass it is green around Ballyjamesduff
And the blue sky is over it all.
And the tones that are tender and tones that are gruff
Are whispering over the sea,
"Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me."
My mother once told me that when I was born
The day that I saw the first light,
I looked down the street on that very first morn
And gave a great crow of delight.
Now most newborn babies appear in a huff,
And start with a sorrowful squall,
But I knew I was born in Ballyjamesduff
And that's why I smiled on them all.
The baby's a man, now he's toil-worn and tough
Still, whispers come over the sea,
"Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me."
[Come Back Paddy Reilly To Ballyjamesduff by Percy French.]