Something Found

SOMETHING FOUND

BY

CARRIE CRAFTON

© Carrie Crafton, 2012

Cover design © Sarah O’Flaherty, 2012

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed, or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Chapter 1

The room was still dark when Emily opened her eyes. Everything was shadows and not quite clear. She shifted her leg and felt the reassuring contact she knew would be there. Because he was supposed to be there. For the rest of her life, in sickness and in health, in richness and in poorness, ‘til death do us part. And that was amazingly comforting and just as scary.

She stared straight out in front of her for a few minutes not really thinking, just waiting and feeling and listening. Something had woken her. What was it?

Collin’s breathing was loud next to her. Would that be one of those things that eventually got under her skin? But it wasn’t what had woken her.

The dark shapes started to take form and Emily ran her eyes over them, trying to identify what was what in the unfamiliar room: the chest of drawers, a desk and chair, a wardrobe, and a single bed next to their double. She caught herself on the word “their”. It came naturally enough, the sense of sharing. But then it was only a bed she was referring to, what about the rest?

Her eyes returned to the furniture. Concrete things. Just as concrete as the fact that she was on her honeymoon, with her Irish husband, in Ireland.

That was it. That’s what did it. The same dream again: Emily in her wedding dress and her mother’s face - sad at her leaving, then angry, or was it Emily who was angry and somewhere in it Jeremy. Jeremy walking away.

“No.” The word slipped out, whispered but firm.

Emily went still waiting to see if Collin would wake. When he didn’t her thoughts returned to the subject. It wasn’t fair. She’d worked so hard, waited so long, and finally found that bit of happiness. She’d found her new beginning and was ready to leave everything else behind and then her mother goes and decides she cares, decides she wants to be part of Emily’s life.

“Fuck her.”

“Stop that!” He stepped out of the darkest corner of the room; a seventeen-year-old boy, tall and lanky, carrying himself with unusual grace. His brown hair was messy with just a hint of curl. His grey-green eyes were bright. He wore a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

“But it’s not fair,” Emily thought the words at him, hearing the child’s whine she was still trying to outgrow.

“Life’s not fair.”

“Jeremy, don’t do that to me,” she continued the conversation in her head. “You know how much I hate that saying. It may be true, but don’t use that on me.”

He smiled patiently and the comforting feeling of being indulged spread through her.

“Emily, you’re on your honeymoon. You’ve met a wonderful man who you love. You’re moving to a different country. You’re starting over. Let go of the past.”

“But she-”

“What? Told you she loves you? Told you she would miss you?”

Emily hesitated feeling foolish then reluctantly said the word, “Yes.”

“Did you stop to think it might be true?”

“Alright already Jeremy. Just stop it.”

Emily frowned. Jeremy wasn’t acting like himself. Not that the ghost of her dead cousin was necessarily obligated to act like himself, but this wasn’t right. Flashes of her dream started coming back and Emily couldn’t control the panicky feeling growing inside her.

“I’ve spent the last three days trecking around this island with my husband, trying to enjoy myself, trying to act like a normal person, a normal newly-wed person, and all the while I’ve got images of you and my mother following around nagging me. I’ve had just about enough of it. The place is haunted enough without me bringing my own ghosts along. So stop trying to scare me any further and just leave it alone.” She was trying to sound in control, but it was an eight-year-old’s fear and annoyance taking over.

“You know what has to happen. You’re married Emily. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy.”

“Nothing has to happen.” She said just as stubbornly.

“Alright Emily, we can take it slowly,” he relented. “But don’t kid yourself. I am leaving. You said it yourself. There are enough ghosts around here. It’s time for this one to leave.”

Emily willed the figure in front of her to become more solid; to catch each of his expressions, to see the wrinkles in his clothes. And then she sighed and let him go. For the moment.

Her attention moved to the man next to her. He was warm and real. She could curl up next to him, wake him enough to put his arm around her, and he would smile at her before falling back to sleep. Collin was wonderful and she was lucky to have him, so why wasn’t he enough?

As quietly as possible Emily slipped out of the bed. Wearing only a pair of silk underwear and the t-shirt Collin had removed the night before, she crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out the extra blanket. Then she dragged the big sofa chair over to the window and snuggled into it.

She wasn’t crazy. She knew she wasn’t crazy. She knew the conversations she had were her own invention. She wasn’t really being visited by her dead cousin. And she knew she was the one telling herself to move forward. But that didn’t make it any easier.

After all hadn’t she done just about everything possible to remove herself from her old life? Didn’t moving five thousand miles away count for anything? Did she really have to go cold turkey on everything?

Emily snorted in disgust with herself and turned to look around their little room in the B& B. She noted the electric kettle, the old metal rods that the heating was piped through, and the tiny t.v. screwed into the wall. The room had been noticeably decorated or at least redone in the seventies, though black and white photos of the Aran Islands hung on the walls giving it an older feel. Emily shivered. Even the room, with all the same basic amenities she would find at home, felt foreign.

Then her gaze dropped to rest on Collin. He didn’t feel foreign. Well, he did, but he also felt right. From the first day she met him, the day he walked into the bar she was working in in Chicago, there was an easiness talking to him. That had never gone away. She could tell him anything. Had told him so much. Within days of meeting him she’d told him about her father who had walked out on her pregnant mother never to be seen again. She’d told him about living with her mother and aunt and how much the two women fought. And she’d told him about Jeremy and how important he’d been to her. These were her secrets, things she didn’t tell her friends, and yet they spilled out so easily to him.

But she didn’t tell him her biggest secret. She didn’t tell him she still talked to Jeremy, that he was still with her, and that at her times of worse crisis he was still the one she turned to.

Emily shook her head fighting her thoughts. She didn’t want to let Jeremy go. It seemed like a betrayal, like letting him die all over again. But as long as she held onto him she would always be holding something back from Collin and that wasn’t fair either.

Emily pictured Jeremy as she had from the age of two, when he was only seven, as her protector. His father had died of cancer when he was very young so when Emily’s father disappeared it seemed for the best that the two sisters move in together. Seemed for the best, but never was. Tension and fights were generally the mood of the house. But Jeremy was the one who created safe places. He was the one who tucked her in at night. He was the one who read her stories. And he was the one who chased the monsters out from under her bed. He became brother, mother, and hero all rolled into one. And since his death he’d become something even greater.

Outside the first touches of morning were beginning to show. Though the end of the dock still blended with the water, the beginning of it was discernible, as well as the white sanded beach beside it. With the growing light the view would become more stunning. The vibrant green of the hills that fought off the gloom of the grey rainy days would take over. But what Emily liked most were the brightly colored houses that dotted those hills. They were so different from any view in America. They were distinctly Irish. To Emily they embodied the will of the people who lived there. They persevered through the rough weather. She knew Jeremy would have seen that too.

Emily rubbed at her eyes annoyed with herself. She pushed the heels of her hands against her face and tried to focus on the present.

She and Collin had rented bikes to explore the island Inish Mor, the biggest of the Aran Islands, off the coast of Ireland. Collin had told her he’d take her wherever she wanted to go for their honeymoon. He had mentioned Paris and Barcelona. But she was insistent on staying in Ireland. If it was going to be her new home she wanted to see as much of it as possible. Collin had smiled, pleased by the stubborn look in her eyes, and decided on the Aran Islands.

They had explored ancient ruins, ridden by stone walls that were so extensive and had been there so long they were part of the landscape, and they had stumbled upon a well preserved old Irish cottage with the white washed walls and the thatched roof that was postcard perfect. It was tiny, damp, and dark when they went inside. Emily could almost feel the ghosts moving around in it. She could picture the life they might have led huddled around the hearth with the rain outside. They had also seen a currach, which looked like a canoe to Emily. They were the boats that the Irish fishermen used to take out to sea years ago; very small boats for such rough waters. Emily had learned that the famous sweaters from the Islands were originally made with different family patterns so they could identify the bodies that washed back to shore when nothing else about them was identifiable. That part had hit too close to home.

Along the way she and Collin had opened up even more to each other, sipping at whiskey and Baileys. She’d learned more about his mother who had passed away, the woman who Collin’s whole family still mourned so deeply. Collin talked about the love between his parents and how amazing it was. How he wanted that for them and knew they would have it. And Emily knew she had picked the perfect spot for their honeymoon.

But those were the romantic moments that they both let themselves get carried away with. It was the atmosphere, the alcohol, and their new beginning. But they both knew they were heading home to the everyday and that it would be different.

Emily turned back to the bed just in time to see Collin’s limbs begin to extend. He seemed to know instinctively that her small frame had left the bed and his own long legs and arms moved to take up the extra space.

“Collin Ryan.” She said aloud, wanting to hear the sound of his name. Then, “Emily Ryan,” she tried out her own. She wasn’t unhappy with it, but she wasn’t comfortable with it either. She didn’t understand how she could be one person for twenty-four years and then suddenly become another. But that was what she had chosen to do. She had chosen his country over hers, his friends over hers, and his life over her own. No more Michigan, the land of her childhood. No more Minnesota where her mother was now permanently settled. No more Chicago, the place she’d lived for the last three years. She’d chosen Ireland.

But there was still the tug of Jeremy that was so comforting and so hard to let go of. She remembered him at fourteen, tall and skinny, leading her by the hand through the small bit of woods in the back yard carrying a new book. He made everything an adventure. He brought a blanket and a flask of hot chocolate and searched for the perfect place to set up camp. It became something mysterious and special, something for just the two of them to share. But then maybe all of that was just his way of hiding the fact that he was trying to get them out of the house.

“Em?” Collin’s sleepy voice pulled Emily from her reveries. “Em? Whadya doin’?” It always sounded more heavily accented when he first woke up.

“Just waiting for the sunrise. Go back to sleep.”

His face registered confusion for a mere second then his eyes closed and he drifted off again.

Emily smiled a lucky little smile to herself. She loved Collin in a way she never thought she’d find. She loved the way he moved, the way he thought, the way he was with people, and the way he looked at her. He saw her for who she was. She’d thought she’d never find that again.

They were fighting again. Aunt Carolyn and her mom. Voices raised in anger could be heard echoing through the house.

“It’s not my fault the fucking bastard left me!!”

Emily knew they were talking about her father again. The word dad, said in a loving, meaningful way, had never crossed her lips. She mostly heard him referred to as “the fucking bastard” and since she wasn’t allowed to swear herself she just thought of him as “the bastard”.

With practiced speed Emily made the run across the hallway. Her mom and her aunt were both downstairs. They wouldn’t notice the light footsteps.

Jeremy already had his covers lifted for her to dive under.

“Em honey, you really should come back to bed.” Collin was fully awake and staring at her.

Emily jumped, startled, and turned to face him. “I’m watching the migration,” she said slowly, pulling herself from her reveries.

“Huh?”

She pointed out the window. “The migration. There must be an eight o’clock ferry. There’s a slow trickle of people all heading that way.”

He smiled at her. “Come back to bed.” He lifted the covers to make room for her and wrapped his arms tightly around her when she joined him. “Your feet are freezing.”

“I know.”

Emily felt a shiver run through her as Collin’s hands moved over her, warming her. She turned her head to receive his kisses. Pushing all her other thoughts away she focused on her husband.