Page 8 of The Scald Crow
I knew what I saw. Colm’s father died a peaceful death in his living room—quick and painless, his favorite show blaring on the television. There was no point in telling him. What would that accomplish?
I escaped through the next available doorway and found myself in the local apothecary. I moved through the aisle until I could go no further. The young girl, dressed in a white shop coat, approached. “Can I help you, miss?”
“I’m not sure.” I scanned the colorful display. Condoms of every size stared at me. Large. Standard. Snug. Latex. Polyurethane. Lambskin. Natural. Organic. Fair Trade. Vegan. Ridged. Flavored. Studded?
Snug and cozy worked for me. A girl could always wish, couldn’t she? Beside the condoms, there was a vibrant display of ancestry kits.Go figure.Discover your heritage, they said. Learn about your ancestors, they said. Find new family relations. Why had I not considered that before?
“How does it work?” I held the DNA kit, turned the box over, and scanned the directions.
“It’s quite easy. Your saliva goes into the tube, and you send it in.” She studied me with rising interest.
“That’s it?” I nibbled the inside of my lip, considering the pros and cons. Did I want my DNA out in the big wide world? What if there were more like me?
“Aye. Would you like those, miss?” Her singsong voice encouraged me to take the plunge.
“Okay, sure. Can I do this right now?” I ripped open the box and dumped out the contents.
“Of course. That’s the collection tube and the return envelope. We can post it from here.” She motioned at the stacked pile of outgoing mail.
“You can? Okay.” I held the tube to my mouth and then spit, gob drooling from my lower lip.
“I did this myself.” She gave me a tissue. “I found cousins I never knew I had.”
* * *
According to the etching above the doorway, the Black Horse Pub and Inn, a patchy array of uneven rubble stone, was established in 1866. Double-hung windows fitted with green muntin bars adorned the Inn’s face. Flower boxes bursting with pink and purple pansies sat on every sill. English Ivy clung to the rough stones, creeping in all directions.
A girl wearing a yellow rain slicker, a black checkered miniskirt, and red rubber boots balanced on a rickety ladder. She leaned into the rough stones and, with one hand, twisted a lightbulb into a hanging lantern.
The skies opened, throwing liquid sunshine upon the earth, slashing the pavement and overflowing the gutters with water.
Rain poured down my face, washing away the last mud splatters. I raised my arms, welcoming the cleansing shower, laughter bubbling inside me. I smiled for the first time since ruining Colm O’Donnell’s day.
And then the rain stopped. Sunshine splashed diamond glitter over the black pavement. A rainbow arched over the horizon: bold yellow, pink, and blue bands. I took in the flock of seagulls perched on the ridge of each rooftop. Their enthusiastic screeching filled my heart with an odd sense of happiness.
“Hello, are you Calla?” She clambered down from the ladder, her raincoat glistening with raindrops. Water fell in streams through her auburn curls. She showed no signs of being perturbed by the sudden downpour.
“Yes. I am. I have a reservation.” I covered my eyes, blinded by the sparkling pavement.
“I’m Saoirse. It’s me you’ve been speaking with when you call. It’s a fair day, isn’t it?” She spoke in lively beats.
“Sursha? Yes, it’s nice to meet you. Is it always like this? Sunshine and rainbows?” I looked down the empty sidewalk, searching for a sign of the tall copper-haired Celt.
“Aye, it’s a grand wee country. Come in. Come in. How was your flight?” She brushed her hands across her short skirt, her gaze following mine.
“The flight went well, but the drive was problematic. I almost hit a flock of sheep.” I bit my lip, picturing the black-faced sheep that caused my predicament.
“Nasty beasts. They own the road.” She peered at me through shining amber eyes. “Why are you covered in mud?”
“Well, I had a small accident. I drove off the road and into the bog.” I twirled a muddy tendril of hair behind my ear. “Colm O’Donnell drove me into town.”
“Oh, bad luck to you.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Do you know him?” The question popped out of my mouth.
“This is a small town, and the ceilings are low.” She smirked.
I lifted my eyebrows, and she explained the innuendo.
