The next few days were filled with conflicting emotions. Knowing time was no longer on their side, both Ray and Eviee took time to set off alone, trying not to dwell on their inevitable separation. But often they sought the noise and distraction of both his friends and hers. Muriel would tag along on these jaunts, often drawing in his notebook when his attention was diverted. He would go back to his ship and open the book to revise something he had written, only to find that she had illustrated his idea, or taken a page and filled it with images from the day. He would smile at the pictures at first glance--but often after his mates were asleep, he would stare down at pictures of Eveleen, tears coursing down his cheeks. He had no way of knowing that in the moonlight she would often sit on the banks of the river near her home, doing the same thing. The night before the troop transport U. S. S. Lincoln was due to shove off, the captain took pity on him and told him he could go to her village and say goodbye. They snuck off in the night (fooling no one), and climbed to the top of the hill where he had had first gotten lost. There they held each other, loved each other, and refused to say goodbye. Finally, after dawn broke over the horizon, she kissed him and ran down the mountain. He watched her until she was out of view and then silently started back to where his ship waited, the paths and road so well known to him now that he could do it with his eyes closed. He hunkered down into his collar, and walked along taking one last look at the hills he would not see again for a long time. “I love this place,” he said as he blew into his fingers.
Word came a few weeks later that the Lincoln had been torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine off the French coast. Twenty-six men had been killed. Raymond Andrews was listed among them.
Eveleen sat by the banks of the river, fingering a teal colored wool scarf that he had brought to her the night of Muriel's first dance. She did not cry or speak; she simply drew breath. She had been a shell for months, neither crying nor allowing anyone to comfort her. She did as she was asked, doing her normal routine, but the light had gone out of her eyes, frightening everyone she knew. She drew no comfort from the land, nor from her people. She didn’t show anything but a crushing apathy. People left her to herself after while, and she preferred it that way.
Her mother, however, was not one to let her wallow in her pain. Alternating between sympathetic words and anger, she had tried to break through the wall by sheer force of will.Unfortunately, her daughter had that same will, and each side had to admit a stalemate. This was not easy for her to accept. She was used to bullying everyone to get what she wanted and was usually successful. Muriel had supplied her with a new tactic however, and she strode out across the yard toward the riverbank with a determination to finally bring her daughter’s retreat from life to an end. But the thin, silent form on the banks seemed so small and helpless that her fortitude lessoned a bit.
Her mother stood behind her, holding a package in her hands, knowing what she had to do. The postman had brought it to the house and given it to Muriel about a month after word of Ray’s death came, but the little girl had not had the courage to give it to her sister. To her credit, it had not been opened; but the fingerprints on the paper clearly showed how often the temptation had been faced. Finally, she had given it to her mother in the hopes that she would know what to do. She had been right. He mother now stood rooted to the ground, and in her sternest voice addressed the ghostly form before her.
“Eve, there is something I need to show ya.”
“There is nothing I want to see Ma.”
“Well you’re bloody well going to see this, now look at me!”
She looked up, empty eyed. “What is that?”
“I don’t know, but its for you, so take it.”
“ Don’t want it Ma, give it to Muriel.”
“Its not addressed to Muriel, ‘tis addressed to you.” Her hand held out the package, narrowly missing banging her daughter’s nose with it. “Now take it!”
Knowing that she couldn’t win against Ma when she was so adamant, she silently took the package out of the stout woman's hands. Staring down at the writing on the paper she frowned. “Why would she be sending me a package?” she spat as she threw it on the grass. “There’s nothin’ she could say or give me that I would want.”
“Well, it seems to me that a mother sendin’ something to a lass she never met and more’n likely barely heard about, at least deserves to have it opened.” He mother scolded. “Honestly girl, I raised ya up better ‘n this!”
Eveleen sighed. Ma stood before her, hands on hips, feet spread, and chin out. She completely had the upper hand.
“Lord, Ma! A 'right! I will open it later.” She promised.
“You’ll open it now, thank you.” The package was picked up and offered again. “I don’t want Kyle fishin’ it out 'a the river at his place.”
For the first time in months, Eveleen smiled. Her mother knew her so well. She took the package and after a long breath, unwrapped it. Her heart dropped as she looked down at the notebook that had never left his hands in all the time she knew him. She looked at her mother helplessly, and suddenly took off for the barn.
“Eveleen!” her mother yelled in fear, “Don’t ya do anything foolish!” as Eve and the pony tore out of the yard and up the street.
She rode to Tara. She left the pony at the bottom, and ran stumbling up the steep incline, ignoring everything around her. By the time she reached the top, her hair was half out of its braid, her headscarf long gone, and her leggings were snagged from the brush and rocks she had brushed or fallen against. She looked wild eyed and dangerous; the kind of person Ma said would “frighten even the brownies.”
She held the notebook in her hand, and was tempted to throw it down the mountainside. She even had her arm pulled back to do it, when she heard a bird screech above her head. Suddenly, she remembered their conversation on this sacred place, lowered her arm and let out a low, gut wrenching-keen into the sky. Over and over his name was released to the sky, the wind and the spirits who dwelled there. Months of pent up grief shattered the still morning air, as she flung herself against the boulder he had once leaned against to write. She didn’t even notice. All she knew was the release of sorrow. Eventually her sobbing subsided and she lifted her head off of her arms - and saw his notebook lying in the grass.
After she got some veneer of control, she opened the little book and leafed through the pages. The inside of the front contained a letter in a looping, feminine hand.
Dear Eveleen -
I know you don’t know me. I didn’t know about you until this arrived shortly after Raymond left Ireland for France. He sent this to me, and told me that I was to keep it and send it to you should he not be able to do it himself. Forgive me, but I had to read it. I wanted to see one last time what Raymond saw, and feel what he felt. It is obvious that what he saw was a chance to finally follow his own path, and not his father’s idea of what an Andrews should be. It is also clear to me that your love was the reason he felt he could follow it. Forgive me for taking so long to send this. I couldn’t bear to part with a son who had finally found what he was looking for.
Sincerely,
Pauline Andrews
He had filled all but the last few pages with his writings, and Muriel’s pictures. With silent tears spilling over her cheeks, she continued to leaf through the pages, seeing page after page of Raymond’s fight with the sea over his true nature. Each page seemed to bring out a new realization, a new resolve to let go of fitting into a role he was unable to fill. She could almost guess when each poem or story was written, so clear were the memories of their discussions. Finally she came to the last entry. Under a drawing of she and Raymond dancing, was a simple poem. It was not his normal style, but was short and simple.
Studying the inside of my eyelids,
I find you, dancing in the lights beyond
I see you, talking to me
I hear you, loud in my ears,
but speaking truth
and I know, you are there,
a presence of truth -
and I know, because of you
I can let go of myself
and soar.
A bittersweet smile crossed her lips, and her eyes closed as she felt his spirit brush against hers as it took off for the horizon.
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