Chapter 6
"Bevin, your grandfather is on the phone. Says he has to speak with you now. He won't let me take a message," Bridget told her.
"Fine, I'll talk to him."
Bridget handed her the cordless phone. Bevin took it, took a breath and then held it up to her ear. She gave Bridget a pleading look and Bridget left the room to give her some privacy.
"Hallo, Granddadda," she said into the phone.
"Hallo, my girl," he replied.
"What can I do for yae?"
"I need yae to come home."
"I cannae and you know that."
"There are things that yae cannae kin, my girl. I need yae to come home. There are things that I need to tell yae. Things that are best said to yaer face and not on the phone," he told her.
"I dinnae have time to come home, now. I have break in a few weeks. It'll have to wait."
"It cannae."
"Then yae better starting talking," Bevin told him.
"Those stories I told yae as wee bairn, when you were a lass, are all true, my girl."
"They are stories and legends, Granddadda," she replied, resolutely.
"Not all stories are fiction, my girl."
"Granddadda, I don't have time for this. I am gonna miss practice. I have to go."
"Bevin Rhiannon Cavanaugh, listen to me!" he yelled at her thru the phone.
"I am not a little girl anymore, Granddadda. I can handle myself. I dinnae know why you are so worried about some myths. I am fine. I have to get ready for a meet next week. I dinnae have time to fly to Kildaire just because you are worried about me."
"I'm not worried about you, girl. I know that yae can take care of yae-self. I need to tell yae more though. I dinnae wanna do it over the phone, lass. I need to tell you to yae face. Grant an old man's wish and come home where yae belong and let me tell yae what yae need to know."
"I am not coming home to Kildaire. I'm sorry, Granddadda. I cannae right now. I have to worry about school and other things. Yae know why I am here," she told him.
"I know yae're at the bloody University, girl. But, there are things yae dinnae kin at work. There are things yae dinnae kin at all. The family history is one of them, my girl."
"I...Why is this so important? Bloody Hell, Granddadda, why now? Can you tell me that?" she asked.
"Answer me one question and I'll leave yae alone if yae want," he replied to her.
She could hear the desperation in his voice, but she wasn't moved by it. She knew that the old man was becoming senile. He hadn't been happy about her moving to the States to go to school, but she got a full scholarship and was captain of the female equestrian team. She was more worried about his mental state, but she wasn't going to let him guilt her into coming back home because of some stories.
"What is that, Granddadda?"
"Have the marks appeared?"
"What marks?"
"On yae arms, girl, the marks. Have any unexplained markings appeared on yaer arms? Well, have they or not?" he questioned demandingly.
Bevin almost dropped the phone. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to lie to him, but then again, she didn't. She couldn't explain where the tattoos on her arms came from and now, she wanted to know how her Granddadda, who was thousands of miles away, knew they were there.
"I'll take yae silence as me answer," he stated.
She was furious. He knew something and he wasn't telling her everything. What was it about the stories that he hadn't told her?
"What haven't yae told me, old man?"
"Come home and I'll tell yae everything."
"Gah, I dinnae have time for this. Why won't you tell? What does this have to do with me?"
"Everything, my girl, everything."
"I cannae deal with this right now, Granddadda. I'll call you back later. I am sorry, I have to go," Bevin told him hanging up the phone before he could reply.
She walked into the common room of their apartment and sat down on the couch. Bridget waited for Bevin to say something. She didn't know how to help Bevin right now. She could tell that something was wrong and that her Granddad had set her off. Bridget had been on the receiving end of Bevin's lovely Irish temper, but right now, she knew that she a friend.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," Bevin replied.
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah, do you remember the name of the Professor that specialized in Celtic Lore and myth?"
"You mean Dr. Seamus. Yeah, he is a quack. Remember sitting through his class for British History."
"Yeah, I do. I don't care. I need to see him. Can you take me to campus?" Bevin asked her.
Bridget regarded her roommate for a minute before she decided to answer. She could see a wildness in her sky blue eyes that she'd never seen before. Bevin looked like a woman possessed. Bridget wasn't sure what was going on with but she knew that she didn't like it. It was like Bevin had changed into someone else overnight and whatever her grandfather said to her set it off further.
"Bevin, slow down and talk to me. What is going on? I'll take you to campus, but I need you to calm down. You're flying off about something. Tell me what's going on," Bridget begged her.
"I don't know what's going on. I need to see Dr. Seamus. He'll know what I am talking about."
"So, I won't?"
"No," Bevin answered flatly.
"Try me."
"Bridget..."
"No, Bevin, tell me. What did your grandfather say that upset you so bad? Wait, was it something he said or not? Talk to me. What the hell is going on with you? And, don't tell me nothing."
Bevin looked at her. Her eyes were wild and scared. Bridget didn't know what to do, but she wasn't going to let Bevin go off half-cocked on some cockamamie quest for knowledge without knowing why. She liked the fiery Irish girl, but there was something else about her that Bridget just never could quite get her finger on. She knew that Bevin was mostly a private person, except when it came to horses.
She knew that Bevin came to America to the University of South Carolina on a scholarship, but why she chose USC over the University of Dublin, Bridget never asked. It never seemed relevant. Now, she could only wonder if it had something to do with Bevin's family back in Kildaire.
"I dinnae know."
"Well, then tell me what you do know. Then maybe, I'll think about looking up Dr. Seamus' number so we can call to see if he is still on campus and arrange to meet with him. If he isn't there, then we can go to Thomas Cooper and see what we can find out on our own. I am sure that the library has some books on whatever it is that has you in a tizzy," Bridget explained to her.
"Bridget..."
"No. No buts this time, Irish. You tell me what is going on or you can find your own way to campus."
Bevin sighed. She didn't know what to tell Bridget, but she needed to appease her own curiosity. She decided that truth was the best option, even if she left a little of the mythology out for Bridget's own good. She, herself, didn't believe all the stories, but she had the marks, now.
"It isn't a simple tale."
"We've got the time," Bridget stated, "There is no practice today and we are already out of class. So, spill it. I'm listening."
Bevin laughed slightly. She knew that Bridget was trying to lighten the mood. It helped.
"So I'm sure that you have heard of the Irish folk stories."
"Yeah," Bridget answered.
"Well, growing up in Ireland, they are considered stories by the older generations. They are fact. Sometimes they even convince themselves that they have proof. Sometimes you can't disprove their reasoning or their evidence. But, then problem is that they are all just stories for most folk."
"Okay, what does this have to do with anything?"
"My Granddadda told me these stories when l was a child. As a child, with my imagination, l thought that I was part of them. I wanted to live in a time of fairies and elves and such, you know."
"What kid doesn't?" Bridget asked.
"Fantasy is always a big thing with kids. Kildaire is no exception to that fact. We are taught how the English changed our words to match something they could say. We are taught how the Romans came to our lands but couldn't conquer the Celts. Our history is a mixture of myth and legend with actual fact. We, as the Irish people, have come to learn that we may never know more than the myths about some of our history. We accept that. We embrace it, whole-heartedly for the most part."
"Alright, so what does that have to do with you?"
"I've been marked."
"What the hell does that mean, Bevin?" Bridget asked her, suddenly worried.
"There are some legends that concern the fairies. They are called the Youthful or those that do not age. Don't get me wrong by all accounts, they age just really slowly compared to us."
"Okay, and?"
"It is said that the fairies sometime mark the children of men. They do this because they believe that the children possess magic or have some destiny to fulfill for the betterment of the land. The markings range in size and shape, color and design, but they all appear without warning or knowledge of the bearer. Sometimes they show up early in life and the elders recognize them for what they are. Sometimes they show up later in life when the children forget the stories of the fairies," Bevin said.
"So, what does that have to do with you, Bevin? None of this is making any sense to why you are freaking out about a phone call from your grandfather. Can you explain that to me?" Bridget inquired.
Bevin just nodded in response. Bridget watched as Bevin began to cry without sobbing. Bridget
cocked her head as she pushed up both of her t-shirt sleeves to reveal the tattoos upon her forearms. Bridget's eyes widened as Bevin turned her hands over, showing her the intricate knot work upon her arms. Bridget questioned her with her eyes.
"When did you get those?"
"I have no idea."
"But, you haven't been anywhere without me since we got home from Virginia. How did you? I don't understand, Bevin. How did they just appear like that? Tattoos don't just appear," Bridget told her.
"They do if you're Irish."
"Don't give that line of bullshit. I-low long have they been there? Can you tell me that?"
"Three days," Bevin said.
"What the Hell do you mean three days?" Bridget asked.
"Exactly what I said. I saw them for the first time the other day when l got out of the shower. It freaked me out, but I didn't say anything to you about it at the time. l figured I was still hung over or something," Bevin told her.
"That was the morning you asked me if we had been out drinking," Bridget said, matter-of-factually.
"Yeah, that was when l first noticed them."
"That was also the day that your cousin Shannon called you."
"It was."
"So, can you explain that?"
"Not at all."
Bridget shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know what to think. Bevin was sitting in front of her with her arms rest on her lap. Bridget looked at the tattoos again. She still couldn't believe that Bevin couldn't remember getting them, but they didn't look fresh either. She reached out to touch them to test a theory she was forming.
"Can l touch them?" Bridget asked, as she leaned forward towards Bevin.
"Yeah, go ahead. It isn't like it is going to hurt. They are just there," Bevin told her.
Bridget reached out and ran her fingers over the tattoos. They weren't raised or inflamed. For all intensive purposes, they appeared to be years old. Bridget just shook her head because she knew that she would have seen them before now if Bevin really had them that long.
"They feel old," Bridget told her.
"I know."
Bridget just stared up into her icy blue eyes. She could see the pain and wondered what else Bevin wasn't telling. She just couldn't understand how Bevin could have hidden the tattoos from her. She didn't believe that Bevin would lie to her about this, but it just wasn't making any sense to her, either.
It was then that Bridget realized that Bevin's grandfather had said something to her about the tattoos, but he had called them something else. Bevin used the same terminology. She called them markings. It was if Bevin knew what they were, but didn't know what they meant at the same time. Suddenly, Bridget wanted to know more about it all.
"So what did you Granddadda say about them that caused you to get so upset?"
"He asked me if I had them," Bevin answered.
"I…how did he know that they were there?"
"I don't know. That is why I want to talk to Dr. Seamus. He has done a lot of research on the lore. There are some things that I need to ask him. I need some clarification, if you will," Bevin stated.
"Well then, let's call him and arrange a meeting. We need to figure this out. We'll do it together."