Hope from the Ocean: 35

"The horses are fine.  What are you doing down here?"  Blair said.

"We're just straightening up."  Tina said, fluffing a pillow.

"Where's the baby?"

"He's upstairs.  With Jack."  Tina said, abruptly.

"What's going on?  Do you guys know something I don't?  Where's Todd?"

"Ah, yes, ya caught us.  We know something about Todd," Sister Rebecca Katherine said.

"All right, what?"

"He went into Dublin."

"I know he did."

Both women got silent.  "Ya do?"  The nun asked.

Blair nodded, arms crossed over her chest.  "Yeah, I do."

"We thought for sure this was going to be a problem, but if you know, then it's not."  Tina said, stumbling over her words in the midst of the conversation.

"All right, that's enough.  Who are you two covering for?"

***

Todd had left John and the other men, as well as Timothy, in the flat, and went off into Dublin alone. He felt antsy, and the memories of Leona were hitting too close to home.  He entered a tavern, old on the outside, and new on the inside, with a moderate crowd, and an empty place at the bar for him to belly up.  He sat, looking nowhere but in front of himself, ordered a Scotch, and focused on the coolness of the glass in his hand.

People were milling around.  An aging woman in the corner was talking to herself.  Several men were at the bar, most were talking loudly, and some were smoking cigars.  After a few minutes, a thirty-something Irishman took the stool next to his.  He ordered an ale, and looked at his hands for most of the time.  Todd caught his eye at one point, and the stranger said, "Aiden."

Todd put his hand out, "Todd."

They shook hands.  Aiden's grip was strong, and he said, surprisingly, "I know."

Todd raised an eyebrow.  "You know?"

"You're the American.  I recognized ya from the underground newspaper."

"Me?"

"Let's just say you're a hero around here, sort of a legend.  We call ya Colm Mór."

Todd almost spit out his Scotch.  "Huh?"

"The Great Scar.  A couple of years back.  I recognize ya by it.  On y'ar face, there.  Ya were quite a tale to be told."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Ya killed him.  The Skinner.  Craiceann Aon.  We know about him.  Notorious."

Todd squinted.  Either the guy was serious, or he was fishing for information and Todd could be dead if he weren't careful.  "I . . . think I'll be going."

"Wait.  I didn't mean to scare ya off.  I'm not a bad lot, after ya get to know me.  Got battle scars of me own.  I should have told ya up front about me.  I'm with the RA21, and pleased to meet ya.  Proud of what ya done.  How ya tried to bring them down.  I'd be honored if ya finished ya drink with me."

Todd looked into Aiden's face and suddenly got a feeling that he wasn't in danger, mixed with a small amount of familiarity.  The man's face was smooth and young-looking, but Todd placed him in his late thirties.  He also bore a scar.  It was along the side of his head, and made part of his hair unable to grow.  "The RA21?  You're a member?"

"Card carrying."  Both men slightly laughed.  Todd sipped his Scotch.  Aiden downed the rest of his beer, signaling the barkeep for another.  "What made ya come into town?"

"There's a missing man, I've come to help him get rescued.  He . . . well, he saved my life.  I want to repay the favor, you know?"

Todd was surprised by what was said next.  "I heard about this.  Ya must be talking about Thornhart, then.  They're stalling.  Moves have to be made.  If it's the Men of 21, the summit will be the end."

***

Jack went into Sam's room.  "God, Runt, you are such a whiner.  What the heck do you want?  We're all busy downstairs looking for Ray."

"Uh, Jack?  I told you I had to tell you something."

"So go ahead.  What are you waiting for, Christmas?"

"We just had Christmas."

"Okay, so you're waiting for the next one?  We have to find Ray before Mom figures it out.  She'll spaz, and cry and stuff."

"Jack!  Look!"  Sam said, pointing down.  Poking out from under his bed were two little feet.

***

"You, too?"  Todd said, running his finger along the edge of the highball glass.

"Of course.  That is the way they operate, and that is what will happen, eh?"

"I know.  I've been there.  From the looks of things, you have, too."

"Perhaps.  I can't tell ya.  Most of it is a blur, to me; I've lost a lot of my memory.  But, whatever it is, it is.  I suffer from headaches.  The pain is like the bitter cold of Irish winter.  Comes and goes.  Mostly when I am trying to remember or do tasks that require deep memory."

"I dealt with something similar.  For a while.  I had flashbacks, memory was suppressed, PTSD.  I recently uncovered stuff, but it took time.  I can relate."

"How did ya overcome it?"

"A good therapist and the perfect woman."

"Ah, that explains it, eh?"

"Yeah.  You married?"

He shook his head, "No, I'm not.  But ya are, I see your ring.  And something in your face tells me it's more that just that with her."

Todd looked at his glass, which was empty, and slid it toward the barkeep.  He turned back to Aiden.  "She's everything.  The reason I'm alive, basically.  She was all I thought of, the whole time in captivity."

"In captivity.  The way ya say it, it sounds like y'ar a wild beast."

Todd ignored the deeper truth in the statement, and said, "I was treated that way, I guess.  Like an animal.  But that's over now."  

Was it?  Would it ever be?

Aiden, who had just been calmly chatting with him, brought his hand suddenly to the side of his head, and winced in pain.  While the stranger was squeezing his eyes closed, Todd somehow caught the fourth-full bottle of beer as the Irishman dropped it in response to the pain.  The bartender came to their area, and filling Todd's glass, said, "He gets this way, Laddie.  Severe headaches.  Doesn't have a past, Mate."

Todd continued to hold the bottle for Aiden, and watched him finish managing the sharpness in his temple.  Within a few minutes, he opened his eyes again, and his pallor, grayish like an overcast day, began to flesh out.  Todd said, "You're lucky this wasn't a fresh beer.  I could have downed it all by the time you came back to the living," and handed him the bottle.  Aiden smiled.

***

"We're not covering for anybody!  We're just cleaning up a bit."  Tina said, continuing to fluff pillows, turning her back to Blair to avoid her eyes.

"Something is wrong with Todd, isn't it?"  Blair suddenly fell into tears.  "My God, they have him again, don't they?  Don't hide this from me, please?"  She rubbed her belly, and then reached for the arm of the couch to maintain her balance.  

"Goodness, no, Bridgette, no," the nun said, realizing it had gone too far.  "Todd's all right, there's nothing wrong with him, and we're not hiding anything from ya.  Now, take deep breaths."

Blair was shaking.  It was visible to the eye, and her skin looked white and shiny.  She just said, "Please," and attempted to catch her breath.  "Todd."

Tina stepped forward, "No, Blair, it's not Todd, really.  He's all right.  If he didn't smash his phone earlier, we could call him right now and see."

Blair suddenly snapped out of her despair.  "Smashed his phone?"

Sister Rebecca Katherine glared at Tina, folding her arms over her self impatiently.  

"Oops," Tina said.

***

Aiden grinned, sheepishly.  "Ya know, y'ar right."  He swigged the rest of it, and said, "Seamus, I heard what ya said, Old Man.  I have a past, I just don't know a thing about it," and laughed, almost sadly.

Todd, somehow developing a kindred feeling with the man drinking next to him, said, "Oh yeah?  I've been there.  Most of my childhood was blocked out, until recently.  And sometimes," he flashed quickly on his mother, in the closet, in Peter's secret room, "it's best," he downed the rest of the Scotch.

Aiden said, "Well, scars are the poetry from pain.  Seems we both know what that means.  First hand experience, which puts us leagues ahead of these stuff-shirt agents.  They call themselves heroes.  I beg to differ."

His accent was lilting like Sister Rebecca Katherine and Timothy, and Todd realized he was becoming accustomed to hearing that familiar intonation, and somehow it was comforting.  He told himself right then that he'd never admit to liking it, and continue to mock the brogue of his adoptive father and aunt.  "I should get home."

"Ah, the missus.  Important."

"She is."  Todd slid more than enough for all the drinks at the bar, never mind theirs, to the barkeep and said, "And she'll be really upset that I've been gone so long.  Maybe I'll run into you again sometime.  I'd like to see how things pan out for you, and of course, Thornhart."

"I'll be on top of it.  I can be found here often.  It's the place to be.  If ya need to know something, or whatever, ya can find me here.  The RA21 is not quitting until all of the Men of 21 are done."

***

"Why did he smash his phone?  What's going on?  Where's the baby?  I want to see the baby."

"He's with Jack, as we told ya,"  the nun took a chance, but realized it wasn't for long as she took note of Jack, coming down the staircase, carrying Ray, who was punching the teen in the side of the head.  

"Down, Jack, down!"

Blair took Ray in her arms, and said, firmly, "No, Raymond Thomas Manning.  No.  You don't hit your brother."

Ray scrunched up his face and said, "No?  Why, Mommy?"

"Because it's not nice," she said.

While she conversed with her youngest, her eldest boy looked to Sister Rebecca Katherine and Tina and said, "Under Sam's bed.  That's what the little runt wanted to tell us."

"Oh, Dear.  We should have listened to Sam."

"Well, we learned that Ray can climb stairs, and we need a gate for him."  Tina said.

"That's easy," Blair said, "We have one, somewhere.  With the stairs, Todd thought of that already.  Ray can get up the steps, but we're not sure he can get down them without getting hurt."

"You knew he could climb stairs?"  Tina asked.

"I figured.  He's his father's son, aren't you, Little One?"  She lifted him and looked into his smiling face.  

Ray said, "Mommy, down."

"No, not right now, Ray.  Sit here with Mommy and wait for Daddy."

"Daddy?  Daddy!"  he smiled.  "Daddy play."

"Yes, Daddy will play with you, when he gets back."  She looked to the two women, flanking Jack on either side.  "He is coming back, isn't he?"

The helicopter sounded outside.  "I guess you got your answer," Jack said.  "I'm going up to hang out with Puny for a while."

The door opened, and once again, Todd's impeccable timing was noted.  He said, "What's going on?  A convention of the stay-at-home-moms society?"  He went to the couch, and sitting by Blair, greeted her with a warm kiss, and then took his son in his arms.

"We're not stay-at-home moms," Blair clarified, "only when you insist that when in Ireland."  She looked at her husband.  "You look tired.  Everything okay?"

"Yep.  They have a lead.  Hopefully, they'll find Thornhart soon.  I'm a little annoyed at how slow they're going, but soon, I think."

"Good.  The sooner the better.  Maybe then, life can start to be . . . as normal as it can be for us Mannings," Blair said.

The sister and Tina looked at each other with relief.

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