Chapter 3

Official Novel Artwork by: Sakuraba_Mu

“Saoirse, would you like to introduce yourself?” It took the tannoy ringing at 8:45 for Saoirse to finally drag herself into the classroom. The buzzing of a dozen different conversations fall silent, all the other students waiting to discover who this new girl is. None of the other 9 and 10-year-olds had dared to approach her as she continued to stare daggers at me for the last 15 minutes from outside the classroom. Now each wondered just what kind of addition our class would have. A new friend? Someone to avoid? Her introduction would decide who took an interest in her and the intentions it carried with it. I give her a thumbs up, hoping it will break the tension and help her relax, but the glare stays fixed on her face, the impressions of the other children apparently meaning as little to her as my own hurt pride.

“I’m Saoirse Doherty. Me and my grandda move around a lot, so now I’m joining your school.” The room stays silent for a moment, waiting for more, but when it’s clear that none is coming one of the boys takes matters into his own hands.

“Why do you sound like that? Do gingers speak another language?”

“Jeremy!” The blonde boy laughs loudly, others in the room joining in as he looks around. The laughter slowly dies out as the other boys in the room stop cheering him on, the high fives turning into worried fingers pointing behind him. Saoirse’s scowl is fixed on Jeremy now, and she’s stalked close enough that the threat of her claws is a real one.

“What? It’s just bants.” Jeremy grins at Saoirse, the gap in his teeth making it hard to take him seriously.

“Saoirse comes from Ireland.” She whips around to face me, realizing I was right behind her in case a fight was about the breakout. The fury on her face makes me wither slightly. “… is that not right? I can’t place what part though.” She nods her head, striding back to the front of the class.

“I was born in Galway.”

“That’s the accent,” I exclaim as if it was clear now. “My family come from Belfast, so they sound a bit more on the extreme end.” A few of the children laugh as I do my best Irish accent that doesn’t sound like much more than a vague mix of stereotypes. Saoirse’s eyes lower to the ground, but she doesn’t seem angry. “And you Jeremy, your parents come from Birmingham, which is why their accents are so beautiful. I especially like the way they say bird.” I turn the word bird into two syllables, really going overboard with the impression and even Jeremy ends up slapping the table with laughter— the whole room joining in. When things have calmed down, I lower my voice a little and address one of the girls at the front of the class. “Since Saoirse is new, Lizzy would you show her around the playground at playtime?” Lizzy nods her head, the short curly ponytail on the side of her head bouncing in the sunlight as she smiles at Saoirse, but all she gets in return is a shy pout of the lips as she looks away. It doesn’t faze Lizzy at all as she giggles. “I’ll make sure she settles in,” she promises before returning to the picture she was drawing.

“I could show her the clubs after school too!” The girl next to Lizzy launches her hand into the air, practically shooting out of her seat with how straight her back arches to raise her hand as high as possible.

“That sounds good, too! In fact, Saoirse, why don’t you grab a chair and sit between Lizzy and Eevie. They can help you get adjusted for the first few days.” A grin engulfs Eevie’s face as she slides all her books and pencil case to the side. Before Saoirse can even sit down, she’s extending her hand for a handshake and asking what Galway is like, what classes are her favourite and if she has any hobbies. For the first time since I woke up Saoirse begins to soften, looking more uncomfortable than angry as she starts mumbling answers to the barrage of follow-up questions from Eevie. I avoid letting the relief show on my face and instead address the rest of the class to avoid ruining the peace. “It just so happens our first lesson today is Geography, so to start, why don’t you all talk to the others nearby about the countries that your family come from and any other places you’ve visited outside of London? In a little bit we’ll have a presentation, so grab some A3 paper and make a bubble map about the different places.”

“Sir,” the boy next to Jeremy raises his hand just off the table, trying to shrink down as much as he can. I make my way over, bending forward to let Ricky tell me what is wrong quietly. “I haven’t ever left London, Cú. My parents are both from here, too.”

“Yes, you have. We went to Richmond over the Summer ya’ donut!” Jeremy thumps Ricky on the back, causing me to grab his arm with a shake of my head before he can do it again. Ricky usually lets himself be thumped a few times before he’ll laugh at Jeremy’s ‘jokes’ and bring it to an end.

“Richmond is in London, Jeremy, but that’s okay, Ricky. For your presentation why don’t you tell me what Richmond was like.”

“We saw deer! Jumping all around the tress! And I was going to ride one but the park man—”

“On the bubble map.” I interrupt Jeremy, sliding a pencil in front of Ricky and wait for him to give me a smile and start writing down the tales spewing out of his best friend’s mouth before I step away. The class begins humming with energy as I sneak back to my desk to try to wake up by chugging water.

By the end of the day, I’m ready to have a nap and wondering why I ever stopped teaching the younger kids who get to sleep after lunch. Sliding a bag over my shoulder, I’ve almost made my escape when Will blocks me at the door. “Cucu~” they say grinning from ear to ear.

“Will!” I step around them, smiling as I start to head out the building. “Thanks for bringing Saoirse in this morning.”

“And covering your ass with the principal,” they remind me, matching me step for step to the door. “Annnnd~ you could pay me back since you owe me for the last time as well.” A deep sigh fills my mind as I begin to wonder what this payback entails. Will pushes open the door to the parking lot, the afternoon sun bringing their emerald eyes to life with infinite prospects. One eyebrow raised, and their head tilted to the side, even their lips pout to complete the look of a lost puppy as they wait for me to accept before they’ll let me through.

Behind Will a shadow plays across my vision, bringing with it a chill that causes us both to shudder. A butterfly, black for the most part but with stripes of white and colourful markings flaps its way towards me. Its long tail, almost the same length of its body trails behind it, the tips already catching alight with dusk flame. Do you really have time for this? The butterfly falls, almost hitting the ground, then begins rising once more, its wings beating to gain altitude. Black flames that drain light consume the butterfly’s form more with each beat of its wings, the whole creature burning away in seconds. Once even the wisps of smoke are gone, I see the apartment building in the distance. One among many, but the sight of it looming over me seems to eclipse all other thoughts. The chill that the butterfly had brought with it is nothing compared to the one in my chest as Hannah’s ghost, still crying in her bedroom, fills my mind.

The golden halo of Will’s hair floods my vision as they step in front of me, puppy-like features still plastered on their face. I have to blink to adjust to the light, feeling the warmth of the sun once again as citrusy cologne overwhelms my senses. Sometimes I forget just how young Will is considering any single piece of clothing or even accessory they adorn themselves with is worth more than my entire wardrobe and the clothes I leave piled everywhere else in my apartment. Everything is a calculated decision, from the oversized jacket to cover up all the other form-fitting stylish brands, to the fake, round glasses that they manage to make feel as animated as the rest of their face with a puff of the cheeks or wiggle of the eyebrows. Without the jacket and glasses, they would be at home on any runway in the world. With them on, the pair added a layer of maturity that both prevented them from looking like an overgrown student and helped prevent parents asking questions about a dress code at Harmony Park. With the clueless grin plastered on their features, the lack of any fatigue after a full workday, and being caressed by the expensive cologne that they’ve splashed on without a care for the price, I feel every one of the 10 years that separate us.

“What were you thinking?” I ask, doing my best to push the words out of my mouth instead of the sigh that echoes in my mind. Whether the exhaustion came out in my voice or not, it doesn’t matter to Will in the least. They bound out of the school, practically bouncing as we make our way to their car.

“Well, it’s Maddie and Derek’s anniversary tomorrow, right? So, we’re going to the pub with Nikki, and like 8 other staff members, plus Derek’s lot. They’re all well and good, but it’s been forever since you came out with us, Cucu. I need some advice from my—”

“Don’t! Say it.”

“If you say you’ll come, then I don’t have to say anything, do I? Tomorrow is Friday, and I know you don’t have anything better planned without me.” Will lowers their head, bringing their hands under their chin while they bat their eyelashes at me. I can practically see a tail wagging behind them as they shake their hips in anticipation. It’s enough to bring a giggle out of me and cure the exhaustion I was feeling. “I knew that’d work! Didn’t even have to mention our anniversary!”

“Yeah, yeah— Wait, you already did!” Will laughs, realizing they’d been caught. Just a month ago Will Huet had dragged me out of my classroom in almost the same way, reminding me that it had been a year since they started at Harmony Park as a teacher’s assistant. In that time, they had for some reason decided I was fun to have around and revelled in dragging me out of my introverted cocoon at every chance they got, oblivious to how awkward it was for a 33-year-old man to be used as a drinking buddy and occasional ice breaker for a barely graduated kid. Now as a fully qualified teacher they were still covering up my mistakes with the principal, and I continued to be drawn into their orbit as payback. “You know, when you get to be my age—”

“That has to be the most boomer thing you’ve ever said.”

“When you get to be my age, you can’t be going out every weekend for drinks. I’ll have one, for Maddie and Derek— then I’m going home. I have a project to work on this weekend.”

“Mmhmm, we’ll see. Text ya the details, but I’ll grab ya after school either way!” Will gives me a quick hug, before jumping into their car, classical music blaring from inside as they give me one final cheery wave before tearing off out of the parking lot. The warm smile I wore on my face fades, another dusk butterfly circling around me now that I’m alone.

Yeah, I know. There’s nothing holding me back now. I head out of the school grounds, walking a little while away until I’m sure that no one is around. I take a long slow breath, imagining myself becoming invisible as I continue to walk and then tap the gem hanging from my belt and matching opal bracelet on my left wrist with two fingers. From each gem, dusk flame erupts, spreading quickly to cover my whole body. A chill more biting than any winter engulfs me, but only for a second as the flames burn out and I continue to make my way to Hannah’s apartment wearing the black and silver of Féileacán.

 

*

 

The sky is just beginning to light up blue in the horizon as I find my way back to Hannah’s Garden. Standing in the same spot I had the night before, I look up to the spider web, the déjà vu shattered. It is barely visible until the wind shakes it, pristine threads gleaming in the sunrise and revealing the trap awaiting its prey. I bring a hand up, swatting away the web, and flick away the spider for good measure as it appears out of a crack in the bark.

“You’re sure she won’t remember anything? Not even the death?” I ask the question aloud, knowing that Féileacán can hear my thoughts just as easily.

When I killed her the tír reset. Time has returned to the moment she died in the real world. The same moment this world was birthed. She has not met you yet, let alone her own ending.

“So, is a tír like the afterlife? Do we all get one after we die?” Féileacán remains silent as my frustrations rise. “You can’t always ignore my questions about this stuff. We’re supposed to be partners, but you hardly tell me anything.”

The less you know about the things outside of mortal understanding, the better. I have a duty. Lost souls create these realms. I invade them to end their suffering that they might pass on. That is all you need know.

“But they also pass on when we solve their issues in these tírs, happily, as if they continue to live here? Isn’t that the same as it being an afterlife?” In the silence that stretches on for a moment I bite at my lip, thoughts carrying me elsewhere. Féileacán’s voice brings me back, calm and steady as ever.

What does it matter? Life, afterlife, beyond afterlife, they are all realms that mortals shouldn’t concern themselves with. If you wish to have the lost soul pass on your way, prove that you can. Now cease your endless rumination. It approaches.

Hannah is just visible in the distance, pushing a wheelbarrow almost as big as her from the direction of the village. I sit, back against the tree so that I can hide behind the corn stalks that tower over me.

Hannah’s Garden is on the very outskirts of the village, just before the cultivated land gives way to forest. A gentle mist is rolling its way down the mountains that surround the village. Springing up from the dew of the morning, the small patches of fog that creep seemingly at random from the earth give the whole village an eerie, shifting ambiance in the early rays of dawn. The woods themselves are far darker from thick trees, laden with twisting tendrils of Ivy and other green growths. A crow rattles somewhere in the dark of the branches, the sound of it swooping away to a further branch audible in the distance while I can’t see it at all. Dawn did nothing to illuminate the secrets that lay within the woods, a much thicker fog coalescing at their edge which seemed to warn of dangers beyond.

“Time moves in here, the same way that it does in the real world back home?” I ask, trying to occupy my thoughts as more animal noises sound off in the woods.

Time moves, yes, Féileacán responds, refusing to elaborate any further.

“Great! So how exactly am I supposed to figure out when I should get out of here to get some sleep at home? It’s not like I can bring my phone.” I slap at the breeches and tunic that had replaced my clothing when I appeared in the tír, scratching at the material where it contacted my bare skin. While they did have large pockets, nothing that I had from the real world came with me apart from the bracelet on my left wrist and opal charm that hung from my belt, now looking more like Féileacán’s version to blend in with the puritan garb. I no longer fear my items disappearing as I once did when entering a tír, but it still sucks being forced to wear clothing that suits the worlds we enter in a lost soul’s mind. This one was especially rough, as Hannah had for some reason dreamed up a world that seems roughly like the colonial era, clothing and all. Warm as the clothes are, the material is rough and causes me to itch every time I feel it move over me. “Plus, the sun hadn’t even set when we came here. Now it’s dawn even though we’ve only been here for about 20 minutes.”

Quiet. If Féileacán hears my pissed off response he refuses to acknowledge it, simply repeating the word: Quiet, then continuing, there are footsteps approaching from the woods.