Chapter VIII
By Sherry Whitten
Caitlin walked and walked in her anger until she was limp and wilted. When she saw it, she let out a surprised cry of pure delight, her fury having run it's course. The pond was surrounded by willows and wildflowers. "Surely I've died and gone to heaven, I have!"
The heat was oppressive, the sun beating down with all its fury. If she'd been home, Caitlin would have stripped and plunged into the cool water, but she wasn't too far from the house, and someone might come to see where she'd gone. Still...she could do the next best thing.
Moving to a large rock at the edge of the water, Caitlin sat down, hastily removing boots and stockings.
Letting her feet slip into the water was heaven indeed, and a whimper of ecstasy slipped passed her lips. She stood, wading at the water's edge, then further out. As the water deepened, she hitched up her skirt, above her knees, then to mid thigh. Unbidden memories flooded her mind from her childhood when she'd gone wading with Willie and Bobby.
She laughed lightly, her heavy heart lifted. Kicking up a spray of water, she watched diamond drops sparkle in the sun. Breaking into a snappy Irish song, Caitlin danced, the brogue thick as her mother taught her.
Billy found her minutes later, breaking the tree barrier. Watching her, he slowly slid from the horse. He lightly held the reins, his eyes taking their fill at her exposed legs with a raised brow. His own memories flowed back to the first time he'd seen Caitlin. The smile came of its own volition.
It had been a blazing hot summer day, somewhat like today, as he was on his way to pick up Bobby Fisher. They'd planned to spend the hot afternoon cooling off at the Fisher pond. She'd been singing then too. The words were done in an unfamiliar language, a haunting lyric that compelled you near. She had snapped her head around when she'd heard his footsteps, her eyes huge and cobalt blue, her hair a blazing fiery red.
Billy's eyes had almost popped out.
Her head cocked curiously to the side. "And what would ye be starin' at, ye silly boy?"
He had gawked at her, not able to speak if his life depended on it.
Her eyes narrowed, her hands moving smartly to her waist. "Ye look like a gapin' fish, now close your mouth and be goin' back the way ye came."
The accent had been so thick, he'd barely followed the words. "You ain't even American!" he had accused.
"I'd be Caitlin O'Riley, just arrived from Ireland these six months past."
"I ain't see you around before! What are you doing at the Sim's place?!"
"'Tis where I live if it be any business of yours," she had returned, her head snapping back in pride. "Poppa is a planter. We're to be workin' his farm."
"Well, just you stay out of my way," he warned. "Bobby and I don't cotton to no girls around." His heart was doing funny flip-flops, and it surely must be her fault 'cause he'd never before experienced such an emotion before.
He watched in fascination as liquid rage filled by degrees in her eyes at the command.
"Sure and certain ye'd be a foolish bore. Ye've the manners of a bad tempered lout." She advanced forward, and had the inner pleasure of seeing him take a step back. "I'm suggestin' ye take heed and keep yere own distance, Mr. High and Mighty. I'll be goin' where I like, and ye've no right to stop me."
She gave him a 'so there!' toss of her head, about faced, and marched back toward the house.
Billy had watched her go in awe. She'd stopped beside a huge man and could hear her outraged wails across the distance. The man looked across with narrowed eyes, and Billy had retreated behind a nearby tree. He peeked out to see the man pat the fiery head, his laughter roaring across the breeze.
It seemed in the days that followed, Billy's demand for her to stay away only whetted her determination to join ranks with him and Bobby Fisher. Everywhere they went she followed. They had yelled at her to go play with the girls, but she had snorted and declared the girls only wanted to play with dolls and the like. She wanted to ride horses, shoot rifles and throw a knife the exact way she'd seen Bobby do.
She was like no one they had ever met. Though they'd die before admitting it, it was a treat just to hear her speech. To watch her eyes blaze to life when they demanded she get lost was a fascination.
Then the day finally came that they accepted her, though she had to prove she was deserving of the honor to join their ranks.
She lifted her head and squared her shoulders, ready for any task they might ask of her.
"Get us a drink of water," Billy declared, handing across a small, silver cup.
"A drink of water?" she asked in surprise. Surely they could find something more inventive than that!
"Yep," Billy returned, a gleam in his eye. His head cocked to eye the well behind him. "Fresh water...from the well."
She moved forward, gazing down into the depths. She couldn't even see the bottom. "There'd be no bucket."
"There ain't one. You have to go down and get it."
He never would forget the look on her face. Her eyes grew wide in shocked alarm, her already pale face now the white of death. Her throat convulsed in terror.
For a moment she thought about pouncing on them in anger and frustration. They knew how desperately she wanted to join them, and what they asked was impossible. They'd purposely made the task impossible, so that she couldn't hang around them anymore.
But to succeed meant they couldn't tell her to go away and play with the silly old girls. To succeed meant to be accepted, to demand all rights they had, to be taught to fire a gun and throw a knife the way they could...to be taught to ride.
She gulped, stiffening her back. "Aye...I'll do it." She was Syrus O'Riley's seed, wasn't she? There wasn't a task he couldn't do, or would shun from doing. Aye, she could do it...then just let them once tell her to go away, and the pair of them would be wearing black eyes to match.
"Wait here. I'll be gettin' a rope."
She tore off at a run. Billy and Bobby eyed each other with misgivings.
"Are you crazy?!" Bobby had demanded, peering down into the black well himself.
"I didn't think she'd do it," Billy returned in defense. Shoot! He wouldn't have done it.
She had returned moments later, a cotton rope clutched in one hand, a lantern in the other. She sat on the ground and handed the rope to Billy. "Here, ye'll have to be tyin' me feet together, so ye can let me down."
Billy remembered her eyes as he knelt on the ground to knot the rope around her feet. It seemed the sapphire blue was the only color in her face. He wanted to take the demand back, but knew to do so would make them all lose face.
His hands were shaking as he helped her to the shaft opening. "Just yell when you have the water, and we'll pull you back out." he instructed, showing more confidence than he felt.
She nodded for her voice was lost in terror. The boys took the slack out of the rope as she lit the lantern and leaned over headfirst into the well.
Slowly she slipped down. It stank of mildew, and tiny insects darted everywhere as she invaded their territory. It took everything in her not to cry out in fear and disgust. She let out a distressed moan as she dropped through a willowy spider's web, raking a hand frantically across her face in horror. She bit deep into her lip, determined to see the task done. However, she couldn't stop the outcry of terror when a long, greenish snake slithered quickly into a hole in the side of the clay wall.
Caitlin snapped her eyes shut tight. She knew poisonous snakes were plenteous in the area. To get bit meant certain death. She'd heard awful tales about how the body swelled and the person labored in breath till the end came, shrieking out in pain as the venom passed through the heart.
She moaned in terror, begging her nearby angel for mercy. If she ever saw daylight again, she swore on her own head she'd not be takin' another such foolish dare in the future!
It seemed an eternity passed when she felt the cool air rising from the water. She lowered the lantern and saw the glistening water just below. "Hold it there," she called to the boys above. She took the cup and dipped it into the clear liquid, sending up a prayer of relief. The task was half done! "Okay...bring me up." Up top the boys labored just to hold the rope. Their hands were red with rope burns, their faces red with the fatigue of holding her weight.
"There ain't no way we can hold her, let alone pull her back out," Bobby cried in distress, sweat running down his face... sweat not only from the heat and strenuous task, but from fear as well.
"We'll get her out!" Billy declared, vessels bulging at his temple. They had to! If they dropped her she'd drown. Her feet were tied together, and she wouldn't be able to stay afloat! They would be murderers!
They had no choice. They would get her back out...or he'd go in after her!
With the lantern in one hand and the precious water in the other, Caitlin was unable to help pull herself out. She was dead weight. She just prayed they had solid footing and strength enough to get her out.
It was a toss-up who was the most relieved when they dragged her over the side. They all sank to the ground in exhaustion. Her hands might be trembling in terror, but she held the cup out as she offered them drink, though most of it had sloshed over the side from her trembles. Her head was held high with pride.
"'Tis done...what ye've asked."
Billy nodded, taking the cup. His own hands were shaking so bad he had to sit the cup on the ground beside him. Anybody who had the nerve to do what she'd just done deserved whatever they wanted. He didn't understand why she was so all-fired determined to hang around them, but if she'd hang face down in a well for the privilege, he sure wasn't going to tell her to go away anymore. "Yeah, it's done."
If was a relief - even on the boys side. Then they didn't have to pretend they didn't want her with them. Never before had the boys known anyone like her. She had the best stories of anyone they'd ever heard. She knew about the strangest creatures and about little men that lived in underground hallows...rich little men who could make you wealthy just by catching them. She knew firsthand about fairies and evil spirits and knew when death was near by the cry of the banshee.
Everything seemed so different with Caitlin around. She was eager to learn everything they would teach her. In fact, it wasn't long before she was better in everything than they were. But they didn't mind. It seemed they lived around the O'Riley place more than they lived at home.
Billy had been in awe of her parents also. Her mother was just as brassy as Caitlin, and her father was like a cannon that boomed out everything. There was never any calm around the place. Outbursts of emotion were an all-day occurrence.
Perhaps that was why he and Bobby were themselves drawn to the place. Of course they didn't admit it, but it seemed everywhere they had to go took them by the O'Riley place.
Billy would never forget the night she came to him. She had climbed into his window, waking him up from sleep. She had dragged him out of bed, demanding he come outside.
"What is it, Caitlin? I'm sleepy." In the light of the moon, his breath caught at the look on her face. "What's wrong?! You look like you've seen a ghost."
Her voice was trembling. "I heard the wailin' of the Banshee, Willie. I sware I did."
Billy knew what that meant. He gulped in fear though scoffing at the idea, for her benefit or his own he wasn't sure. "It was probably just the wind, Caitlin."
"Nay, Willie. I was sittin' at me window. I couldn't sleep, and I heard it right there in the night." She gulped in terror. "I think I'm goin' to die, Willie."
"No, you ain't." he countered, almost angrily.
Then she leapt at him, holding him so tight Billy thought he'd suffocate. "I'm scared, Willie."
"Don't worry, me and Bobby'll look after you," he comforted. He had awkwardly patted her shoulder, not accustomed to showing affection - especially to a girl.
She had nodded with relief, tearing back home in the middle of the night.
And they had looked after her, only leaving her side when it was time to go home for the night. They all breathed easier as the days came and went uneventfully.
"See?" Billy scoffed. "I told you it was just the wind."
"Aye, I reckon ye were right." Caitlin beamed in relief.
Things were happily back to normal, then without warning disaster struck. Two or three in the township came down with the fever. They were put in seclusion to stop an outbreak, but soon several more came down with the disease. Caitlin's mother fell prey to the illness.
Caitlin never left her side.
Willie and Bobby were both forbidden to go near, but they would sneak away and speak with Caitlin though the window. The night of her mother's death, Caitlin came to him again. He was awake, and at her approach he left the house to meet her.
She was sobbing as she fell into his arms.
"She's gone, Willie, just minutes ago."
"I'm sorry, Caitlin."
She looked at him through drenched eyes, nodding. "Aye, I know. Then she dropped her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Willie...what shall I do without me mum?!"
Then she'd wept as Willie and never seen anyone weep before.
This seemed to be a turning point in their lives. That spark in Caitlin seemed to have left with her mother. Her father's boom, though still in evidence seemed hallow and empty. The town was mourning for the loss of life.
Time dulled the pain somewhat, but it was never the same. When Billy decided to go his own way, telling Bobby was hard. Telling Caitlin was devastating.
Through the years of their separation, she was with him in memory as she'd been in the early days. He remembered the good times, putting away the hateful words she'd spat at him the day of his leaving. Billy had never seen the face of hatred. He saw it that day mirrored on the face of his dearest friend.
He'd walked away without looking back. He couldn't bear to see that look in her eyes again. She wasn't to know how hard it was for him either. She wasn't to know he'd wept like a baby himself for days afterward.
And now she stood before him once again. He didn't know what had brought her back to him, but he thanked God in heaven for the act. She might make him enraged with just a word, but she also soothed like a balm with a smile or a twinkle in her eye. Shoot! He even relished in her foolish tales once again.
One thing was certain, not a day went by that he didn't want to either gather her close and bask in her lunacy or give her a good sound thrashing on the well-rounded seat of her pants.
Maybe she couldn't help that she drove a man right to the edge of insanity ...the irretrievable thorn in the flesh that wouldn't go away.
Billy wouldn't have it any other way.
As he looked on her wading around in the pond he had to smile. It appeared her anger had been appeased too. She never sang in outrage, just stormed around and heaped curses on his head.
But he grew alarmed suddenly when she stepped forward in the water, his hand shooting out as if he could stop her progress from the bank.
"Watch your depth, Caitlin. The bottom drops off pretty fast right there." He recalled another time he'd had to fish her out. She'd almost drowned him in the process.
In mid song, Caitlin jerked around in surprise, her foot grasping to find a hold, stumbling, then crashing into the water with a shriek of horror. Water flew skyward as she came up, fiery curses spewing from her lips. "Heavenly day, Willie! Next time why don't ye just shoot me and save me dyin' from heart failure?!"
He grinned, moving to the water's edge. "Turn about's fair play." He absently wiped the water from his cheek from all her splashing. "Anyway, I didn't care to fetch you out - again. You nearly drowned me last time," he reminded, barely holding back a grin as he offered her a hand out.
Knocking away his pitiful help, she stomped out, wringing water from fiery curls as she went. "Aye, 'tis a pity 't'was only nearly."
The arrows shooting from her eyes never hit target.
"I'm sorry I lost my temper, Cait," he murmured, moving up to her. With a caressing thumb, he wiped at a stream of water on her cheek. "All I could see was you falling under that black devil and being stomped to death."
"Ye don't have much confidence in me abilities, Willie," she sniffed with a sour, hurt attitude.
"Where you're concerned I don't seem to have much common sense," he agreed with a coaxing smile, recognizing that her frosty attitude would take a bit more thawing. He tried to look pitiful. "Forgive me?"
"Why should I?" she snapped, trying to stay angry. It was his fault the horse would be lost.
"Because I'm a silly ninny. I have it on the best authority."
Laughter bubbled past her throat before she could stop it, then it rang out free and clear. She threw her arms around him, her head falling back in spluttering laughter. "Oh, Willie, what a pair we are! 'Tis no wonder your friends don't just pack us off with good riddance."
His hands cupped her cheeks, framing an exquisite face of porcelain. "They're starting to look at me like I've suddenly grown two heads."
"Sure as faith, I don't think they know what to make of me either." She lovingly cupped his own cheek, her eyes glittering. "You're a good friend, Willie...always."
"And you're a pain in the butt, Caitlin, always." He laughed outright at her spluttering face, giving her a loud smack on her forehead. Dropping an arm companionably around her shoulders, he moved toward the horse. "Come on, sweetheart, lets get you back so you can change out of those wet clothes."
"But I'm not chilled."
"Maybe not," his eyes dropped down to eye the material clinging like a second skin. "But those clothes plastered to you ain't doing my temperature any good."
She colored hotly, easy to see the direction his eyes found most interesting. "Aye."
Quickly she moved, retrieving her boots as Billy climbed onto the saddle. With them and her stockings in one hand, she used the other to grasp Billy's outstretched one, placing a wet, bare foot in the stirrup his own had just vacated. He hefted her up as she positioned herself behind him, glad to hide burning cheeks from his view.
Rolling his eyes, Billy reined Jezebel back toward the homestead, his grin crooked and boyish.
To be continued...
Copyright 1998-This work is not to be reproduced without the permission of the author
The Way Station
Campfire Tales
