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I had to grip the kitchen counter to steady myself. No words came to mind. nothing to say.
Aunt Mari continued with, "Try to understand, that is how it had to be, and how it needs to stay, not only for yer own sake but our family's. That's why ya are now--yer name is now Brennan McGabbhin, my third cousin. From a farm in Donegal. I learned of him through my brothers. Seamus and Michael. Seamus is in Toronto and has met my niece, Mairead. Seamus is in Sheffield and knew the McGabbhins and heard of the accident..."
Accident?
ACCIDENT!?
My brain spun into chaos. What she was telling me made absolutely no sense. Seventeen years on this earth and I was not who I claimed to be? And I had not seen what I saw and...and...
Danny looked around at me, startled, his eyes wide and I turned and started to run for the shop but I slipped on the wet pavement and the world vanished in a cloud of white smoke and fire and silence and I was lying on the ground and that leg was in front of me and its blood covered me and I was screaming from the pain and horror and Danny was grabbing me and forcing me to my feet and holding me as Colm punched me and...
I was staring at the ceiling, a cold rag to my head, my heart pounding like the devil. It took me a moment to realize I was stretched out on the kitchen floor. Aunt Mari was kneeling over me, a portable phone held to her ear by her shoulder as she tried to shove a pill in my mouth.
“...When he just keeled over,” she was saying when I half-choked on her fingers and she noticed and shifted to, “Wait-wait-he’s comin’ ‘round. Bren? Listen, son, can ya hear me?”
Hear her? It’s as if she were screaming at me, my head hurt so. But I nodded.
"Here, take this. Take this. Under yer tongue."
I accepted the pill as if I'd been trained to do it.
“Can ya get up?”
I’d rather have done anything else but, only something told me I had little choice. So I forced myself to rise, slowly, to where I could sit. The rag fell off and it was bloody.
“Aw, shite, I hit me head?” whispered from me.
“On the counter.” She turned to the phone. “We can make his appointment, if ya think we should.” She nodded. “We’ll head straight over so Carla can check him. See ya soon, doctor.”
She hung up and turned back to me. “Can ya stand?”
Again, I’d rather not, but now it was a case of damn me if I'd give into it. So I took hold of a chair and pulled myself up, Aunt Mari hovering over me in case I fell, again.
“I’m a right mess, aren’t I?” I croaked, almost laughing.
She wet another towel and pressed it to my head. “I should’ve held off tellin' ya all that. Put it in a way that wasn't so confusin'.”
“No, it's not you. I understand, now. I'm just not me.”
“Don’t be sayin' that,” she said, her voice quick, soft and tender. "Ye...yer here as Brennan McGabbhin, yes, but this isn't forever. It's only to protect ya. For a while."
Protect me? Protect me by making me a lie and...
I sat in a chair, my shirt so clean and starched it cut into my skin, and hands held me in place till just before a photo was taken, when they released me and I wavered and the click-click-click of the camera laughed through the silence before I tumbled over and...
And Aunt Mari was still talking. "It was the only way we could get ya away from all that--all that horror, by it not bein' you. It's true, some people were very unhappy about this, that I grant."
Unhappy?
"He belongs in a grave."
"He didn't know anything about it."
"He was there to warn 'em! Little traitor!"
"He's already half-dead. Finish it off."
And Ma screaming, "You do anything to him and I will make your lives hell."
Ma? Fighting to keep me alive? Why? You'd think she'd be happy I'd be gone, never to vex her, again.
"I flew over to accompany ya here. Just a lad needin' medical care for his heart and mental health, and glad I could help, is all. Fortunate enough to have family in a city with the best in heart specialists. And physical and mental..."
My head was reeling as I tried to look around and...
I slipped on the wet pavement and the car vanished into whiteness and I flew back and hit the wall as dust and filth and bits and pieces of metal and engine rained down on me and I was in a dark room on a bed, sweeping, as the pillow came over my head and I could hear Ma's voice snarling, "This is what you want, isn't it?"
I felt ill. Stomach slamming hard against my insides. Glad it had been hours since having that sandwich. Or had it been?
Aunt Mari was telling me, "Then with Brendan havin' already left, there was nothin' to connect the family to that--to what happened."
Already left. My note. The rail ticket. I had gone...and the remains of me were now taken away. Like refuse.
The whole of Ireland spread out below and wind whipped through the golden silk Joanna called hair and her cheeks were as bright as rubies and she took my face in her hands and kissed me and surrounded me with the scent of spearmint and it felt like home.
Home. No home.
I had to grip the counter to keep from falling, again, as I murmured, “I’m not to go back.”
“Now, that’s not what I said, Bren.”
I managed to chuckle. "Bren. Always called Bren, here. Now i see why."
"It was just to keep it as simple as possible," she said as she removed ice from a tray. Then she wrapped it with a small rag and held it against my forehead. "But things'll work out and soon ya’ll be home. Once memories are settled and cleared."
Memories settled? In Ireland?
I must have laughed, for she smiled and said, "Much better. So till that happens, it’s best if we focus on makin' ya well and strong, again. Now give us your shirt and put on another. I’ll set this one to soaking, see if I can get the blood out.”
As Mrs. Kieffer took Danny's bloody jumper and he pulled on my coat and...
It probably would. Many a mother in Derry had experience with doing that for their sons and daughters. Especially of late. Even for Danny.
Bloody fucking Danny.
He'd brought the car. Driven it with explosives delicate enough to go off if bumped wrong. Parked it there. And I was sorry it hadn't gone while he was behind the wheel. Me China...and I was sorry he hadn't been killed. Oh, God, that hurt so deep.
I made myself focus and slip out of the shirt, held the ice to my head and started for the stairs. I needed to be to myself. Needed to think. Needed to understand.
But Aunt Mari followed me so I had to tell her, “I’m fine, now. Thanks. I’ll be down in a moment.”
“Are ya sure?” I gave her half a smile. “If I’m not returned in ten minutes, then you can panic.”
She swatted me arse and headed back to the kitchen.
I went up the stairs.
All the way up.
Slow, like an elderly man. My world spinning as I mounted each step. A stark despair whispering around my heart. My head pounding as much from the fall as from the realization that my past was now a danger to me and my family, and those I'd considered my best mates had brought it about and nearly got me killed.
And had killed Joanna.
A part of my mind told me Danny was not stupid enough to drive with any explosive that unstable. There'd have been a safety switch or latch or something that he would set once the car was parked. Which made his actions even more deliberate.
Which only made my hatred of him worse.
And Colm being there to collect him. He knew. And they both knew what hurting Joanna would mean to me. Yet still went along with it. May even have volunteered, in order to cut me off from her. For there was no question in my mind that if her Da had been killed while she was seeing me off at the train depot, I'd no longer have been a part of her life.
Which brought up the thought that it had happened because of me. Never mind her Da was UVF, and they were responsible for Catholics being killed. Never mind the growling, howling, screaming anger between both sides, now. Then. Always.
Maybe she was dead because I'd loved her.
How in God's name could I live with that?
How?
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