Chapter 4 #3
I spent the afternoon tooling away in the kitchen.
When the pies, cookies, and cake were finished, and the bread was out of the oven, I happened upon a pint of blueberries and decided to make some muffins as well.
Once those were finished, I realized how totally ridiculous I was.
There were enough baked goods to have a church tea party—too late now.
I needed to get changed for dinner. I was covered in flour and needed a shower before I put on fresh clothes.
I headed upstairs to de-flour and make myself presentable.
Ronan arrived right on time bearing flowers and a bottle of wine.
I found a vase for the flowers and opened the wine and the three of us sat down for dinner.
We ate and talked, mostly about my grandfather and our shared memories here in Ireland.
Once everything had been eaten and I was just about to serve dessert, Charlotte piped up to let me know that she was going into town.
She was wanting to see what the clubs were like in Ireland.
“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t know anything about the bar scene in a place where you own a house. Have fun, if you need a ride, give me a call.”
“If I need a ride, I will call a cab. I’m not going to bother you to come get me.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me.” Charlotte grabbed her coat and purse and walked out the door, waving as she went. I continued plating up dessert, and sat down with Ronan.
“So ’ow do ye like being back so far?” Ronan asked right before taking a bite.
“It’s great. I got a little freaked out last night when I took a walk, but other than that I love it.”
“What put ye on edge?”
“An animal in the bushes growled at me, had me running back to the house as fast as I could. End of story, I’m a chicken shit.” I shrugged my shoulders.
Ronan laughed. “Well, if something in de bushes was growling at me, I’m naught sure what I would do.
I guess I ’ave never had dat ’appen. Ye grandfather and I got mixed up wit some dangerous tings, but we were usually looking for it, so it was naught catching us off guard just meandering down de road. ”
“Dangerous stuff, huh? Like what?” I scooted my chair a little closer to Ronan. I missed my grandpa, and I wanted to hear stories about what he experienced while in Ireland, chasing God knows what.
“We tried to find any evidence of cryptids dat we could. We wanted to find de real monsters. We ’ave been through all de surrounding forests and a few abandoned estates dat ’ad ominous stories of what they ’eld.
We explored caves and lakes and almost any other type of landscape ye can tink of.
I know we ’ave searched for leprechauns, banshees, faeries, Abhartach, Bananach, and even de Bodach.
We ’ave definitely ’ad many trips dat focused on finding evidence of de Gruagach. ”
“The Gruagach? What is that? Well, honestly, I’m not sure what any of those were except, of course, the leprechaun.”
“The Gruagach is de Irish name for de Sasquatch. We spent so much time on dat particular cryptid simply because it is de most well-known worldwide. I mean, practically every country ’as dis cryptid.
Same description for de most part; dey all ’ave a different name for it.
It should be de one dat ye would tink would be easiest to find evidence of.
De whole world is probably not wrong; de creature is just elusive and does naught wish to be found.
I can say wit absolute certainty dat dey must go to great lengths to make sure dey are naught discovered.
Now dat Ray is gone, I will continue to do what we always did.
Keep searching, if we stop searching, dey will always be a cryptid; if we discover solid evidence den dey become a species—an actual animal, dat will den be studied and protected. ”
“Do you think that maybe if they do exist, that telling the whole world will do the opposite of protect them?”
“I understand what ye are saying; I do. I just believe dat if I don’t find proof, someone else is going to, and dey could end up doing way worse tings.
Hunt dem, cage dem, or even trap dem and sell dem to de ’ighest bidder.
I want to prove dat dere are creatures of folklore dat do exist and dat all de accounts and stories dat people ’ave passed down over centuries must be based on something.
Dese tings didn’t appear out of tin air; fantasies are fed by reality. ”
“You really believe that? Do you think all cryptids exist or just certain ones?”
“Ye making fun of me.” He took another bite. I placed my hand on his forearm.
“Actually, I’m not. I would have loved for my grandfather to get irrefutable proof that one of these creatures exists.
With him, nothing was impossible—it’s one of the things I loved the most about him.
He never cared about what anyone else thought about him; he was going to keep doing what he loved, and it paid off for him.
I don’t think any of this is ridiculous; I just don’t know if the solid proof he spent his life searching for will ever find the light of day. ”
“Did ye ever tink about maybe continuing ’is work? I know he talked about ’ow he ’oped dat ye, in particular, would understand what ’e was trying to do.” The question caught me off guard, and I didn’t respond for a few moments.
“It isn’t something that I ever considered. I don’t think I have the patience or the courage to continue his work. I run from growling bushes—what do you think I would do if I encountered Bigfoot?”
“I tink ye underestimate yeself, I believe dat, if ye did decide to pick up where ’e left off, dat ye would learn more about ’im.
I get de feeling dat ye are desperately seeking a way to feel closer to ’im now dat ’e is gone.
Ye would get de chance to see tings de way dat ’e did; wit excitement instead o’ fear.
I totally understand if dis is naught something dat ye want to do, but I tink ye might get a little of what ye are yearning fer.
I can see dat ye are ’aving a ’ard time wit it.
He talked about ye a lot. Almost to de point where I felt like I still knew ye.
I did naught get de privilege of getting to watch ye grow up except in pictures dat ’e would show me.
I only got to ’ear ’im tell me about de woman ye became. ”
“Really? What did he say about me?” I knew he loved me, but I guess I didn’t really know his favorite things about me. The parts that made him not only love me but like me.
“He said dat ye were strong-willed, but open-minded. Ye ’ad a natural curiosity in everyday life.
A thirst for knowledge, and a willingness to see a situation for what it was and naught attempt to make it more.
Someone who wants de truth and ’ates being lied to; ye are an open book, but don’t trust easily.
Ye love to travel and try new tings, explore new places, and embrace de moment.
Ye seem to find a silver lining in even the darkest cloud and ’ave a positive attitude, while somehow also being someone who loves de dark. He loved and adored ye.”
“Wow, I guess I didn’t know that.” A tear slid down my cheek and Ronan wiped it away with his thumb. I grabbed his hand and looked in his eyes.
“I can see it. How can anyone naught?” Ronan smiled at me as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was sweet but far shorter than I would have liked. I opened my eyes and immediately changed the subject.
“So did he tell you that, if he died, he wanted you to try to recruit me to continue his work?”
“No, he simply mentioned dat he ’oped dat ye would want to.
I tink ’e thought ’e was going to ’ave more time to try to convince ye or entice ye to want to do what ’e did.
De only apprehension he ’ad about ye doing it was de danger that could potentially be involved.
A lot of de defensive skills are basically just paying attention and being aware of yer surroundings.
Always carry a weapon, because well, don’t be stupid. ”
“Yeah, I would imagine going out looking for creatures that are thought to not exist could be potentially dangerous. I would assume they would go to great lengths to stay that way. It would definitely be dumb to not be prepared.”
“I’m not going to try to convince ye to do dis; de decision needs to be yer’s.
It can be scary and most of de time it is just in yer ’ead.
However, we are searching for de reasons behind de fear so take from dat what ye will.
It is naught an easy job; it is a lot on ye psyche.
Absolutely nerve-wracking, and sometimes you deal wit very real monsters.
Ye could come out of dis wit some gray hair, awesome evidence, battle scars, or dead—de worst-case scenario. ”
“Worst-case,” I repeated sarcastically. “You really know how to make a sales pitch; all over the board on that one.”
“I don’t want ye to tink it is just some adolescent treasure ‘unt. I want ye to ’ave all de information going in so ye can make a solid decision. Would ye rather I lie? I thought ye didn’t like liars?” he quipped.
“Maybe I have made enough hard decisions lately and my brain is mush. Maybe I don’t want to perpetuate some people’s opinions of my grandfather by chasing nightmares through the woods and coming up empty-handed looking like a fool.
Maybe I don’t believe in faeries, leprechauns, werewolves, or Bigfoot.
Don’t you think this is all a bit much? Be honest!
” I hadn’t even realized that I had begun to yell, or that I was mad.
Really mad, sad, bitter, and overwhelmed.