Eleanor was sitting up in bed, staring at the moon through the window. What a wondrous thing the moon is… It felt more beautiful and mysterious than the sun.
Several times, she tried to lie back down and sleep, but couldn't. She wanted to stare at the moon. Eventually, tho, sleepiness crept upon her, and she fell asleep, Little Father lying beside her head to keep guard.
Eleanor awoke the following morning, wearing pyjamas, her bed a bit too small for her. She sat up, eyes dark and puffy, looking quite haggard. Yawning while stretching, Eleanor looked at the morning sunlight through the window. She rubbed her eyes.
"And here I thought sleeping on the surface would be really easy…"
Eleanor almost considered preferring being in suspended animation like back in Rapture. At least she did not have sleeping problems. She swung her long legs off the bed and got up, bones popping, and she stretched again like a sleepy cat, yawning again.
She noticed a silhouette on the floor, looking like a big head with two tapering curves going up either side. She turned around to see if there was a peeping tom outside her window, tho didn't see anyone despite the silhouette remaining on the floor.
Eyebrows furrowed, Eleanor pulled the curtains aside and opened the window, looking down both ways.
Nothing, no one…
However, the grass was obviously bent, as if some huge animal walked over but then disappeared.
"If you do spy on me again, I will hurt you." Eleanor slammed the window shut.
Eleanor left her room, now wearing attire suitable for the 1960s: short baggy jacket, short-sleeved shirt, socks, stiletto high heels, and mini skirt, reminding her of Mother. Eleanor shuddered at the thought of looking like Mother, but she had to dress normally for once in her life. The only change she decided to make was to put her hair in a ponytail. The clothes were brought to the church last night by Mother Eilis, who was always dutiful and caring.
"Eleanor? Ye ready?" Father Ó Gallachóir called from afar.
"Yes, Mr. Ó Gallachóir, I'm coming." Eleanor grabbed Little Father from the bed and put him in her pocket.
Eleanor followed Father Ó Gallachóir to the lounge.
"Oh, Eleanor, someone phoned fer ya. Phone's over dere." The priest gestured to a rotary dial telephone. Eleanor was surprised. Who could have known she was here? Mother? The police? She picked up the phone, a little nervous.
"Hello?" Eleanor spoke, and heard the other person sigh from relief.
"Eleanor? Oh! So good to hear you again!" a woman's voice with a thick accent spoke.
"Oh my God!" Eleanor exclaimed, letting her forehead hit the wall but grinning. She also sighed from relief. "I thought you were dead, Tenenbaum, I couldn't find you."
"Likewise. I am sorry for disappearing back in Rapture, but I had to help another, and other little ones," Tenenbaum explained.
"I understand. I am so glad to hear from you again. Thank you so much for being there for me when I was...little." A pause. The lady must have felt a rush of peace, or regret, of her past.
"Welcome, child. Thank you, too, for helping me end my sins, once and for all. Rapture is forever buried at sea, and we can begin life anew."
"Yes...yes we can." Eleanor agreed, then Father popped in her head. She felt a rush of loneliness and regret. If only Father could be with me...
"You could not hide from news, you know?" Tenenbaum teased.
"Whatever Mother said in her interview I can only imagine."
"I did not bother watching. But, Eleanor, I am so sorry Delta did not make it."
"Father... Father sacrificed himself so that I could be reborn and free. I will not let his conscious go to waste. Don't despair, Brigid, you did everything you could. We are free now," Eleanor comforted, fighting the urge to cry.
"Actually, I do not think I will ever let go of my guilt. I will create cure for ADAM sickness soon. But Eleanor, I will be flying to Sligo from London. Sligo does not have scheduled flights, but I be there tomorrow sometime. I go to Nazareth House orphanage when I can for the little ones. Then... if all goes as planned, we all fly back to London. See you soon, Eleanor."
"Yes, see you soon. But Tenenbaum, how did you know I was here? How did you get this phone number?" Eleanor asked.
"I tell you later. Please, just enjoy your time, stay safe. Bye-bye."
"Buh-bye."
Phone call ended.
"Sounds like Rapture really did her in," the priest remarked.
"Yes, for over a decade. Tenenbaum will be coming sometime tomorrow, so I have one more day and night to hide, but..." Eleanor replied, turning around. She crossed her arms and lowered her head. "I don't want to stay cooped up in here. I want to go do something."
"Oh, yeah. I phoned some friends, Eleanor. At first, dey were gonna come 'n getcha and help ya out. But when dey get here, we'll tell em ye gots yerself covered. Still, they've got a kid who'd love ta see ya. I bet ye can have a good day wiht em."
"Did you tell them I am a fugitive?"
"Dey don't need ta know everytihn'!" Father Ó Gallachóir stated in good humour. "Don't be o'fraid, Constable McDonagh's got a bad reputation. No one in deh force is gonna believe him anytime soon anyways, I hope."
Eleanor tilted her head, making a self-satisfied sneaky smile. "Oh, I'm not afraid of him. Don't worry about me, Mr. Ó Gallachóir."
"Heh heh, okay, den, Eleanor. If ye can handle Rapture, ye can handle anytihn' else fer sure."
"Speaking of Rapture, what's your story?" Eleanor asked.
"Oh, I never went, only me brother. He never came back. I told him not ta go, but he never listened. God rest his soul."
"I'm sorry." It was very unlikely anyone else made it out of Rapture, especially now…
"Nohtin' compared to what ye've been troo. But, well...it's gonna get worse before it get's better. Has always been like dat 'n Ireland!" the priest remarked with good humour, Eleanor also smiling from that. The Irish sure knew how to smile despite their problems.
"Thanks again, Mr. Ó Gallachóir, for everything."
"Aw, don't mention it. It's what we Irish do. C'mon, me friend should be here pretty soon."
Later, a car drove to the church, Eleanor and Father Ó Gallachóir waiting outside, Ms. Lamb fixing her annoying shoe. The vehicle was a dark red Jaguar, XJ6, and Ms. Eleanor immediately liked it. She attentively stared at the sexy car as it parked nearby, and an equally sexy young man stepped out, a tall, fit, amber-eyed redhead dressed semi-formally but not having a hat or sports jacket. The young man did not seem to care about anything. The passenger, the father, wore a brown suit and a hat, also a redhead. He stepped out and shook hands with the priest.
"Hey, Cullen, ya sweeney! Been a while!" the father greeted the priest, having a much softer accent but a deeper voice. They must have been friends for a long time.
"Good ta see ya, Brian! This yer new gal?" the priest asked.
"Yeah, brand new Jaguar! Model released this month. Ain't she a beauty?" the father replied, and then the two talked about cars and things about cars, and car things, and more car things…
Eleanor looked at the young man, who seemed disinterested and minded his own business. She stepped to him, eyes bright.
"So, you're the one rescuing me?" He gave her a weird look. Smooth move, Eleanor...
"And yer de girl frum Rapture, who needs help frum corrupt ol' McDonagh. Yer much taller den I expected. Nice big eyes, too."
Eleanor slightly smiled and her eyes filled with curiosity. Unlike his father, the young man had an obviously pronounced Irish accent. After her pause, Eleanor nodded to his question. She wasn't sure what to say.
"Um, yeah..."
"Oh? Maybe ye can take me divin' soon, den," he remarked, Eleanor chuckling. She liked his accent, and his face. "Still, don't believe de place is real."
"Huh... I can hardly believe the surface is real. Ever since I was little, I always wanted to see the sun. Spent all night staring at the moon, though," Eleanor said, and Amber-eyes looked at her weird again. Embarrassed yourself again, Eleanor...
The look of her face made the young man chuckle. Flirting definitely was not a skill she had, at least since she gave Amir a bloody nose.
"Ye sure sound like a crazy person," the young man remarked.
Eleanor held in a chuckle. "Did you not see the news?"
"Ye, not all ah it doh. Just saw a buncha lil' girls talkin' 'bout peepers an' angels. Also saw a big guy wiht a big helmet...reminded me o' a spacesuit."
"Big Daddy diving suit," Eleanor corrected.
"Oh, big daddy, eh? Did he take ye divin' and go real deep wiht ya?"
It took Eleanor a second to get it. She narrowed her eyes. "That's my father."
"Oh, ya? When yer big daddy went divin' real deep, did ye both get real wet?"
Eleanor paused with an emotionless stare, keeping unblinking eye contact…
Father Ó Gallachóir finished talking to Brian, and the two old chaps turned their heads, just in time to see Eleanor punch her friend in the face. Amber-eyes reared and staggered against the car, holding his nose, grimacing while blood trickled.
The sharp, cracking pain fumed out his skull, as if his nose was a conduit for pain. Cross-eyed for a second, he looked back at an angry Eleanor. Her punch was much, much stronger than he expected.
"Ah, young love's sweet, ain't it?" Ó Gallachóir remarked.
"Cathal's a true Mac Ruaidhrí in findin' a good woman!" Brian joked, and then the two old chaps went back to talking to each other as if nothing had happened.
Eleanor found herself grumpily sitting in the back of the Jaguar, arms crossed, looking out the window. Amber-eyes sat in the passenger seat, head back, holding his nose with a handkerchief. His father drove the car.
"Y'know, for a British girl, you're quite Irish," Brian complimented, trying to hold in a chuckle.
Why do people keep thinking I'm British? Eleanor was not British, at least not officially. She was not even born in a country, but people assumed quite a lot based on an accent.
"Well! Looks like we need ta relax, hunh? Today's September 27th, there be horseracing soon. I think that's a good place ta start fer you two ta let off some steam," Brian purposed.
September? Huh. Five months till my birthday...
Later, Eleanor stood at the Sligo Racecourse, a crowd cheering. The course was a mile long, and had twelve horsemen racing along, sometimes jumping over obstacles. Once the horses passed, most of the excitement was over until the next lap. She figured the horses were trained for stamina, seeing as they made a few laps each race. A few horses could not finish the race, and their riders led them off.
Eleanor was interested at first, having never seen horses before. Though, watching horses running around and around and around and around and around was not very exciting, at least not compared to her underwater ordeals. She did not like how the riders whipped their horses, and a few riders struck their steeds quite hard and frequently, though they were the ones leading the race. Everyone else in the audience enjoyed themselves, shouting, clapping and cheering, Eleanor feeling sorry for the horses.
"How's de race?" Amber-eyes asked as he walked to Eleanor, she not even looking at him. He extended an arm, getting her attention. He offered her an ice cream cone, and had one for himself. She glared. He made a cute little smile.
After a pause, Eleanor slowly accepted the gift, scowling. She slowly retracted her arm to enjoy her ice cream.
"Yer welcome. Still grumpy?" Cathal asked with a chuckle, but Eleanor did not reply. "Y'know, me pa was involved 'n some smugglin' 'r wha wiht some Fontaine fella years ago. Guess Rapture be real, den."
"Mhm."
"Ice cream good?"
"Mhm." Better than the ice cream from Rapture… Eleanor caught herself eating up her ice cream rather quickly and greedily. She got some ice cream above her lip, noticed Cathal staring. She lowered her ice cream and wiped her face, a little embarrassed.
"If ye really want s'more cream ta lick up, I can help ye wiht dat pretty soon," Amber-eyes remarked.
All of a sudden, Eleanor did not really want to eat ice cream anymore, shoulders dropping. But the ice cream was so damn good, and this prick ruined it. How did I even like him when I first saw him?
"I thought ye liked ice cream?" he asked, sensing her despair.
"Cathal, can you please stop talking to me?"
"Aww...even after I got ye an ice cream cone?" he artificially whined.
Eleanor pushed his elbow up so that his ice cream smooshed over his face and nose. His eyes widened and he reared, partly from the cold, partly from a little pain left over from earlier. He looked at Eleanor, his face half-covered with ice cream.
Eleanor blushed and giggled. "Serves you right." She enjoyed her ice cream like a little girl as Cathal cleaned himself.
Horses ran by.
Eleanor realised she had changed a little. No more was she thinking about Rapture. She was still sad about losing Father and not being with the Little Sisters, and felt some worry from the priest's warning of the orphanage. Yet, Eleanor also felt happy, free, relieved from pain... Or maybe it's just the ice cream?
As the race finished, the leading rider galloped by the cheering crowd.
"An' we have 'r winner!" the announcer shouted, Eleanor noticing that the winner was a rather tall, older man with gray hair and green eyes. Once he got his horse to a stop, he reared, keeping balance in the stirrups, crowd cheering. "An' 'ere he is! Brock Devitt! Takin' first place!"
"Huh! Wasn't even close! Dat new guy sure is quite de rider, contrary ta 'is age," Cathal remarked. "Heard he was 'n American soldier, too."
Eleanor did not know why, but she imagined Father as the winner, a heroic, middle-aged man in shining golden armour under rays of shimmering sunshine…
"Dere's still some m'r races, want s'more ice cream?" Cathal asked.
Eleanor frowned at him. How old does he think I am? Six? But… "Yeah, actually...get me some more ice cream, now."
Eleanor and Cathal had their next ice cream cones and observed the race. Unlike Cathal, Eleanor did not get much of a reaction. Seemed like she was the only one not overreacting to the riders.
After a few races, Eleanor got rather bored. If only Father could be with her, or riding one of the racehorses…
"So, what's yer name, again?" Amber-eyes asked suddenly, who had a hunch that the girl was bored.
"Ele—" Eleanor hesitated, noticing an off-duty cop nearby, who looked rather familiar. Eleanor looked at Cathal. "Esther."
"Esther? Dat's a real nice name."
"It is, isn't it?"
A rider fell, the crowd gasping.
"Will we be goin' soon, Cathal? I'd rather move on ta somethin' else, now, ah?" Eleanor spoke with a (surprisingly good) Dublin accent. Cathal looked at her, eyebrows high.
"Hm? Oh, ye, alright. Let's go find pa, he probably be gamblin' somewheres."
Eleanor followed Cathal, keeping her face away from the off-duty McDonagh.
"And thanks for bringin' me here, Cathal, really appreciate it, ah?" Eleanor continued as she passed the constable, walking closely beside Cathal. Once again, she bypassed the constable easily. This is too easy. If I started using Plasmids in the crowd, I wonder what would have happened... Ha!
"Yer talkin' pretty good now, sound a bit like a sweeney frum down east, eh?" Cathal complimented. Eleanor smiled at him and flicked her hair.
Cathal and Eleanor soon went back to the Jaguar, as he could not find his dad.
"Eh! Cathal, where ya goin'?" Cathal's dad called, appearing out the crowd, grasping a handful of dollars he was probably going to gamble with. His son turned around and shrugged.
"Well, where d'ya tihnk?" Cathal exclaimed, gesturing to Eleanor.
"Oh, right! Have fun! I'll be going with some friends after the race, anyways," Brian said.
"Father just lets you do whatever you want?" Eleanor asked, rather surprised.
"Ya!" Cathal replied, opening the Jaguar, car keys carelessly left in the ignition.
"My father was like that, too," Eleanor said proudly, moving some hair away from her eyes as she sat down in the passenger seat. Making herself comfortable and looking for the seatbelt. She grabbed it and… Wait, where does it go?
Finally putting on the seatbelt, Eleanor noticed Cathall's lack of amusement. Just embarrass yourself again, Eleanor…
He fired up the Jaguar. The beast roared to life, Eleanor's eyes widening.
"So, where to?"
"I tihnk I'll drive around town, show ye around. Ye really gotta know de place, eh?"
"Fair enough."
So Cathal drove around Sligo, showing Eleanor the town. She noticed that, often, whenever Cathal drove passed oncoming traffic, like the priest, he would briefly raise a finger or two off the steering wheel, and the other drivers often did the same.
"Cathal?" Eleanor asked.
"Ye?"
"Remember when I said my name was Esther? It isn't. I lied to you because I saw Constable McDonagh at the racetrack, and did not want him to possibly notice me. My real name is Eleanor."
"Oh? An' here I was tihnkin' 'bout how nice de name Esther was... I'll try ta remember ye as Eleanor."
The centre of Sligo was rather mediaeval at times, and Eleanor found such architexture peculiar. How would castles look underwater…
Cathal drove along the river and through streets, and went here and there and over yonder, talking nonstop about this and that. When Cathal drove to the railway station, he slowed down a bit.
"See dat? Me granddaddy helped blow up de railway station in 1923 during de civil war," Cathal explained proudly.
"Oh, that's cute," Eleanor remarked, thinking about how she and father single handedly fought through Rapture just a few days ago. "Anymore family history?"
"Hmm... heard dat de author a' Dracula, Bram Stoker, dat his grandma lived 'n Sligo. Been tihnkin' dat maybe we've got a correlation 'ere! Yer skin's pretty pale and ye have dark 'air, after all!"
"I'm a vampire," Eleanor commented nonchalantly, then made claws with her fingers and hissed at him.
Cathal laughed. "Ye'd be a really cool vampire! Good at suckin'!"
"If you meant that as another innuendo... This vampire's gonna bite something right off."
"Noted, Esther."
For the next few hours, Cathal continued driving around talking about nothing, Eleanor occasionally nodding or mumbling acknowledgement of some sort. Cathal did not seem to notice Eleanor's lack of interest. She preferred to stare at the sun.
"So, what next?" Eleanor asked, taking her eyes off the sunset. Cathal slightly narrowed his eyes and gave her a suspicious look. She returned her own suspicious look.
"I gots ta show ye sometihn' real, real important. Maybe de most important tihn' in awl Ireland. Sometihn' so imporant, dat we Irish've been doin' it fer countless generations..." Cathal explained, Eleanor wondering what he meant.
The car stopped at a street near the river, and Eleanor followed Cathal into a building. All of a sudden, Eleanor heard glass clinking against glass, traditional Irish music, laughing, and occasional table-smacking. She did not know where Cathal led her to, but she was not sure if she liked this place.
So, what was the most important thing in Ireland? Eleanor thought to herself as Cathal walked past her, then he turned around, arms up.
"Beer!"