Travels in Eire #1

The rain fell in sheets. It was a horrible night and you could barely see the light of the pub along the road. A small figure approached the pub door, pulling along what looked like a heavy box.

From inside the quiet pub, the barman heard some scratching on the door. He boldly rounded the bar and cautiously pulled the heavy wood door open.
There stood a young lass of about 25, totally drenched, and looking like she had just lost her best fiend. He immediately helped her into the pub noticing she was dragging a suitcase with her.

He could tell she had the looks of an Irish girl, but there was something different. Rain droplets ran down the tendrils of her long black curly hair. Her eyes were the gray-blue of a cloudy day. There was a distant look to her that was obvious as soon as she spoke.

“My car got stuck a ways back in the mud. I just couldn't stay there by myself. I wasn't sure quite where I was”, she shuddered in her American accent. “Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Cailin.”
“I'm Brendan”, responded the barman. “Now let's get you into some dry clothes and get something warm to drink. There's a room upstairs where you can stay the night. I'll carry your bag up, you can change and come back down.”
Cailin nodded in agreement and followed Brendan up the stairs. After opening the door, he handed her the key and returned to the bar.
Cailin entered the clean neat room ready for guests, and searched through her suitcase for some warm dry clothes, changed and headed back down to the bar.

As she came down the steps she noticed that the pub was pretty empty except for a few men at the far end, and one sitting at a table. Brendan motioned for her to come to the bar, and as she did, she noticed the men at the other end taking notice. As Brendan handed her a mug that smelled of cloves and whiskey, he said, “This will warm you from the inside and take off the chill. It's a hot whiskey.”
Cailin responded with a meager nod of thanks noticing that the men were still watching her every move.
“Don't mind those two,” Brendan flicked his head toward the two, “They are just stalling on heading home to the wives!”

The hot whiskey was wonderful. Cailin was already feeling it's warmth creep all the way to her cold toes. It made her remember why she was here.
This was the first time in her life that she had been so impulsive and taken charge of her life. Her grandmother had lived in Ireland as a young girl and moved to the States in her late teens. She always talked about this place and that, as she had traveled all over with her parents. Cailin was named after her great-grandmother, and had decided it was high time she found out what her grandmother had been talking about. Her Grandmother was from Armagh, and her Grandfather was from Sligo. Her grandmother's parents were from somewhere close to Armagh, but Cailin didn't know where. Both families had moved to the US when they were in their teens. There were a lot of hard feelings about the marriage, but it survived and thrived with all the Irish heritage that they both brought to the union.

Both of Cailin's parents were also Irish, but as Cailin grew up, as a 3rd generation immigrant, she lost some of that heritage and now hoped to gain it back with this visit.
She suddenly was aware of some movement just behind her and off to the side at a table. It was the 3rd person in the pub that night. It seemed like he wanted to be invisible, unnoticed. Head down, and eyes on the table top, Cailin could not see anything about him. It made her feel very uneasy, and Brendan noticed this.
“It's fine Cailin, he's just a lonely soul drowning his sorrows. Can I get you another hot whiskey?”
Brendan and Cailin discussed the situation with her car and how Brendan would have a look at it in the morning if the rain slowed down a bit. If need be he could tow it to the pub with his pickup truck.
It was late and Brendan was getting ready to close the pub. Cailin was about to say goodnight when the man at the table raised his head as he stood to leave. Cailin froze in place as her eyes met his. His eyes were steel blue and felt like they were looking right through her. Even after the hot whiskey it sent a shiver through her. She quickly looked away and turned to go up the stairs to her room.
In a quiet smoky voice the stranger spoke but one word, “Sorry,” and then headed out the door.
As Cailin headed up the stairs to her room she could not get the picture of that stranger's face out of her head. As she lay in the big bed warmed by a thick feather quilt, even with her eyes closed she could still see his face. It was a handsome face, but covered with such sadness. She fell asleep that night as a teardrop fell from her eye.