#18 The Only Connection - An T-aon Cheangal

I hit the ground like a ton of bricks, the impact jarring my entire body. An instant ache spread through every bone and every muscle. Momentum from my fall forced me to roll along the uneven terrain, not knowing which way was up and which was down.

The world was pitch black when I finally came to a halt. My chest jerked violently as I gasped for breath to replenish the air that was knocked from my lungs.

I took in my surroundings before I moved. I lay on my stomach, face angled uncomfortably in the grass. No immediate pains rose upon pressing my hands weakly into the solid ground as I did my best to pick my body up into a sitting position. Trembling hands traveled over my legs and torso before moving to my face checking for injury. Resting my palms on the crown of my head I took a few deep breaths. By some miracle, nothing was broken.

Tires screeched in the distance and my head snapped in the direction of the disruption. A red glare emitted in the midst of the darkness and the slam of a car door rang in my ears.

The entire world was distorted to me. Only the outlines of shapes were visible to my clouded mind but one word brought me to my shaky feet.

"May!" Lyle's voice echoed through the night.

My mind and vision were hazy from the fall but I rose, stumbling into the thicket of trees grasping onto each trunk as I moved. With each step I picked up the pace, shuffles turned into leaps as I bounced from tree to tree. The crunch of footsteps became louder behind me and I stopped caring about dodging the branches that grazed my body and face breaking into a full out run.

Lyle called my name again, her voice hoarse but closer this time.

The sound only encouraged my feet. Before I hurled myself from the car, I had only one thought on my mind.

Train station. I had to get to the train station.

I could see only shadows of trunks a few feet in front of me but I knew that the path Grace and Tony trail blazed years ago was close. It ran parallel to the road for several miles and judging the time I spent in the car we were less than a mile from town. Soon the path would curve slightly away from the road, leading toward the center of town stopping first at the train station.

My adrenaline laced body clogged my ears blocking out Lyle's calls as I focused on feeling the ground with my feet.

I gasped excitedly as I felt the smoother ground I knew to be the trail under the soles of my shoes. Ahead of me a dim glimmer of light shone through the chaotic line of tree branches. The train station stood at the end of the path. The thought of the safety in the building dominated my mind as I willed my legs to travel faster. My labored breathing was audible as I continued my pathetic run toward the light.

Suddenly a hand connected with my arm, dragging me backwards away from the refuge of the light. My instant scream muffled by another hand and I whipped around to come face to face with Lyle.

The heat of her right hand that held fast to my arm radiated on my skin and I jerked away but she did not budge. Her mouth pressed into a firm line as her nose flared in order to keep her breathing under control.

I waited foolishly for her to say something, something that would debunk the entire night - or maybe pinch me to wake up from this abstract nightmare.

She did neither of the two.

So I bit her.

Right on the index finger. She yelped in pain and released her grip.

"Get the fuck away from me." I snapped jumping back from her. I looked to my right where a fallen branch lay. It was no longer than two feet and thicker than a broom handle. I picked it up where it'd been freshly snapped and held it defensively toward Lyle.

"Don't come any closer." I warned shaking the fallen limb at her, though it had no effect as my hands trembled more than I wanted to let on.

Lyle held her arms up in surrender. "May please listen to me."

"No." My voice dropped as I spoke. "You broke into my home, you've lied to me and now you want to - you and these men want a painting. A painting? I don't know what is going on here, so you either tell me or I will..." My voice trailed off, I didn't exactly have a plan for the latter.

"May," Lyle began, clear tension in her tone.

I shook my head anticipating her question. "I'm not going to help you."

"I'm not asking you to." She countered.

"But you are looking for Mo Soileireacht aren't you?"

There was a long pause before she answered, this time her voice was gentle and devoid of the anger before. "Yes."

"Then has flirting with me been just a 'little extra bonus'?" My words were harsh and I hoped they hurt her just as much as they hurt me.

"No one should get hurt over this. Especially you- look I didn't know you were the artist at the time, and when I heard you mention it to Grace... I'm sorry you got dragged into this and for that I am taking responsibility. Please come back to the car." She let out a pained sigh and I held her pleading gaze. "Please trust me. It isn't safe out here."

Though I couldn't detect any inclination of fear in her eyes I could see it in her body language, in the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

What in the hell was going on?

I said nothing searching her features for anything that would entice me to believe her. I locked onto her eyes. They were no longer highlighted by the moonlight that faded behind the tree cover.

Could I trust her?

Her shoulders slumped forward as she waited for my response. Never once did she return her gaze to the stick I held between us. Focused solely on holding my gaze she willed me to trust her.

I'd seen the look before. Minutes ago as she coaxed me off my sloth like position twenty feet from the ground. She could have left me there, dangling from a limb an easy target for Jones and Smith. But she didn't.

The little devil on my shoulder slapped me square in the face. But, she didn't want to take me to the police station either. Lyle was playing the same game Smith and Jones were. Perhaps the only reason she came to my aid was that she believed I knew where Mo Soileireacht was – and she would be right.

I broke eye contact. The stick in my hand felt twice as heavy as when I picked it up. I ran through my options. There was no way I could muster enough courage to strike her and with the train a half mile away the possibility of outrunning her was low as well. My heart quickened.

Had Smith and Jones given up their chase? Lyle said they wouldn't stay at the B&B, and if they were following us they would surely recognize Lyle's car pulled over on the side of the road.

I wasn't safe here. My gaze drifted back to Lyle.

She was my only way out of the forest.

"You'll take me straight to the police station. I drive." I pointed the stick toward the direction of the road.

In silent agreement she extended her hand slowly towards me. This time I did not flinch away. Though I wasn't afraid of Lyle I had no reason to trust her entirely.

My mind shifted back to why I stood in the middle of the forest in the pitch black night. I jumped out of the car to get help for my friends - but was that the whole reason?

A shudder ran down my spine. I was more selfish than that. The confirmation that she and the two men who attacked us were after my mother's painting is what sent me over the edge – or rather out the door.

I had absolutely no idea why any of this was happening.

For so long I'd been encased in my mother's memory, so much so that I hid her paintings away just to try and find a moment of peace. I only allowed myself to be close to her through my art, and now that was faltering as I'd struggled to recreate Lyle's portrait.

I jumped partly to hide from my mother's memory. I was content to imagine scenarios less dramatic than the one I'd been flung into. My imagination was a secure place. One where I could craft the perfect sentence or change the scenery, but this was all too real. Right here, right now, I was confronted with a choice. Did I truly want to know more about my mother, even if it was messy?

The confrontation terrified me. The devil on my shoulder reared its head again. I was unsure, and even more so afraid of what would happen if I continued to dig. Before, I'd stopped because of my hallucinations. What would new revelations bring? I couldn't paint myself to be an optimist, to think that everything would be solved. No - things would become more cloudy, and could I handle that?

But I owed it to myself didn't I? I'd spent countless hours wishing for a string to grab hold of and here it was, tickling my fingertips. If I choose to run into the darkness I would be leaving behind my first and only chance to delve into my mother's mystery? I couldn't do that to myself.

I stared at the green eyed girl whom I knew next to nothing about. She was my connection, she had answers to why my mother's painting was being pursued to the ends of the earth.

Perhaps that's why in that moment when in the distance we heard another car door slam and the gruff orders of Smith pierce through our silence. I dropped the stick, replacing it with Lyle's hand as I pulled her down the path toward the train station.

She was my only connection now and I couldn't let go.

-

And so it begins ... !

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