Brendan is taken to the doctor by his aunt...

The city she drove me through was a tangled mass of homes, commercial buildings, empty lots, wide car parks and massive streets. And that barge of a car floated like we were on water, with seats as fine as I’d ever sat in and the air conditioning blasted icy enough to give you a chill. Aunt Mari was pointing out the city as we went, but my head was pounding so I paid the cloth with ice far more attention to and didn't smoke, either. All she had was Benson & Hedges. Why bother with it? 

I know we passed a University called Rice, and that it was across the road from a large, open park cut through by another boulevard. Behind us was the overpowering city center with its sudden office towers and cranes aiming to build even taller ones. Ahead of us was another mass of high-rises she referred to as the medical center, and I could not believe the size of it. Altnagelvin was a county clinic in comparison. But what struck me the most was how flat the land was, everywhere you looked. Never-ending flat. Streets leading on forever and driving straight into nothingness. This is to be my new home? That, I was not yet so sure of. 

As for how I'd got here? Aunt Mari told me only enough to calm my questions. She thought. I had the idea she was trying to distract me or mollify me or just put off any true information till she spoke more with Uncle Sean, but what she actually did was provide me with a path into understanding what had probably happened. 

My rucksack was reason I was not more severely injured. Even so, I hit that wall hard enough to break my left arm and three ribs and get a concussion, along with plenty of cuts and bruises. But here's the stunner -- I actually was halfway into a heart attack. They think Colm striking me unconscious is what saved my life. 

They took me to a safe house near the border, and Ma was brought in. How? Aunt Mari wouldn't say, but I got the idea Colm went to get her through back ways because he knew what some of PIRA's leaders wanted to do. Ma fought them back. Why? I have no idea. But instead of being assigned to a grave, a doctor was brought in and I was attended to. Even given a nitroglycerin tablet! 

Jesus, talk about the Little Bomber Boy. 

Ma was given time to contact Aunt Mari. 

"When Bernadette called with the news," she said, "it scared the bejesus out of me. I had yer uncle talk to some people." 

I'm sure my shock registered in my voice as I said, "He has contacts in PIRA?" 

"Oh, no, no, no, no, Noraid." 

"How would they know who to call, and how?" 

"Does it matter? Ya were given time to heal, weren't ya?" 

Just not in the North. I was snuck across to the Republic and kept in an isolated farmhouse a fortnight. Always deep under medication because I was still prone to hysterics, and I needed to be calm to let my heart work through its problems. Someone in PIRA knew of a farming accident, more than a year earlier, but I doubt any son was actually involved. My bet was they used the name of a child who'd died early for my papers and Irish passport. A bit of makeup to cover my scars for the photo. Then the excuse that I'd gone off my head at seeing the accident. 

Without a doubt, a fair amount of money changed hands, for all of this. 

"Then I flew over, through Shannon, and brought ya here," she added. 

"You had no problem with the customs?" 

"Immigration. And ya were provided a medical visa for treatment of yer heart and mental breakdown. Yer Uncle arranged that, with his lawyers." 

"But why so much trouble for me?" 

"Would ya rather be in a grave?" And the tone of her voice cut off that discussion, complete. 

But I had to ask, "So Uncle Sean has my new passport?" 

She hesitated then sighed. "Somewhere, I'm sure. But best to take care, now. While we did get an extension on yer medical visa, it has expired. He'll need to look into how best to handle that." 

She drove in silence for a few blocks, which I appreciated. My head needed a chance to settle. Then she continued, "Yer mother showed me yer letter." 

Of course she would. Just further proof of my unwillingness to help the family. 

"Bren, what did ya think ya were doin'?" 

No sense in hiding plans that would never happen now. "I was off to work on a ship. I had an offer." 

"Without a word before leavin'?" 

I shrugged. "I'd have sent money home." 

"How? The way the British are bein' with the mail? I don't dare send money, anymore." 

To be honest, I hadn't really thought about it beyond that.