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That night she dreamt. She dreamt about the future. She was in a yard, large and green and there were children laughing nearby. As her eyes searched them out, they ran in front of her jumping up and down with what looked like clear eyes and dimpled chins. She said something to them but the words were muffled and unclear to her ears. Then they cried out loudly and ran off to the porch steps to greet the shadow that was walking out of the doorway. She came along slower with a smile excited to see that face again, the smile. As she took the last step, the shadow walked out of the darkness and her eyes were about to find his, and she would know that it had all worked out ok, that there was nothing to worry about because love always found a way. He stepped closer and as the sun rays were about to illuminate him, her eyes filled with tears because she was so sure it couldn’t be anyone else and, and…well, and did it really matter so long as it happened where it should, when it should and with whom it should?
Auld Lang Syne
"Ahh, well, I guess ya’er right. It was only a hope I had anyway."
He looked out into the chasm spanning between the cliffs. Six cliffs parted by just enough distance to make walking around at their peaks impossible. The feel of Spring was in the air. Peeking out from the dirty snowdrifts and ice slides were shades of green, the occasional wildflower in bloom. He could tell by their persistence in spite of the cold they had come to roost only to leave again with the frosts of fall.
"It's where I come ya see. To think. It's the quiet I'm after. Ma says she doesna hear it. The roar. She doesna like the roar of the wind." His 'r's' trilled in the comfortable habit of his language. "I don't hear it. Not like her. To me, it's the quiet. It's the place I can find the peace to make sense." He flung a pebble out into the grey. "It's been ages since I sat here."
The bleak sky was wrapped around the scenic cliffs where he had settled on a perch to dangle his legs. The day for him was empty and filled with the regret of unresolvable sadness. So he had sought out the places of home that were usually the comfort they promised to be. That day they failed him.
"There's a legend. That high pitch squeal ya hear. There, that one. It's the scream of a woman. One of the Laherty women. A few hundred years ago, they say. She threw herself over that cliff."
He pointed his meaty arm toward the ledge that he spoke of. His ruddy hairs were curly and dense on the freckled arm. "That's the one. They say it was heart break. Her da wouldna allow it. They say he was a miner. Some say he was a Moor. Then others they say he was only an Englishman. Gentry, at that."
His arm dropped as slowly as the words faded. "It wouldna worked. Too much the difference. Though I canna say I don't fancy the idea of it." He thought a moment with broody eyes. They were the ramblings of an inevitable outcome. "I was after drinking a bottle of my da's whiskey when I heard." He rubbed the hard stubble carpet on his thick neck. "I half expected him to beat me to a bloody pulp. He didna. He sat down with a look of pity and filled his cup to the rim. He said, 'Ya'er a man now. Ya'll have ta know this is yer lot'. "
The wind took on a furious tone. The mopey curls on top of his head puffed out even wider, unrulier, than before. "Sit ya there. And enjoy it. The summer is come soon enough. Not so hot as what you know from that far off land of yers. But hot enough. Hot enough for our kind. It's the time of year I learned my craft. Da kicking the ball with me endlessly. I keep thinking if I'd stayed behind to work with the coaches like they wanted. There was nothing here but wasted time." He stopped suddenly to stare off into the glare of the bright silver afternoon. His sigh was resigned. "I keep thinking how I'd like to teach a wee one how to bend it like a baller. All this thinking. And I'm no a thinker. I never was. I was never going to university. This is all I am. I guess." He winced as the wind whipped a few sand grains into his heavy eyes. "Well, it was a whale of a time."
He gestured softly at a small box wrapped in brown paper. "Is not much. Enough to remember by I hope." He looked down at it in deep contemplation letting silence guide his thoughts. "It was Ma. Ma, she's the one who set me straight." His words fell away again. To the memories, first glad and then not. He wondered, not for the first time, as his life passed would they really fade to nothing. "All this we're fighting - Ma says will be nothing someday. And now is no the time to be throwing our lives away. Ah well, if Ma believes it then it must be. She says we’re both too young for such nonsense. And God is man enough to accept us making the wise decisions." He tossed the rock he held between his fingers. It lofted high into the air tumbling in zero gravity before dropping from sight to the far below.
"Ah, sure, look it, I know. Bobby Jensen damn near beat me senseless once before ya come. Bloody fists about nonsense. And I never shed a tear, not even when they set me nose. But I've cried myself tearless since I heard. Was it any use?" The lump in his throat had returned hurting his larynx as he tried to swallow. "Ah well, I believe it if Ma says so. And ya say so. Da says ye girls usually know the right of it. But I canna lie to ya. And I'll wonder all my life what might have been. I canna lie."
He stood in the cold air. "I'll walk you then. A nice night to enjoy the summer air."
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