A sea tale (part 8)

Asturias Travel Blog

 › entry 7 of 7 › view all entries
Caitlin holds her baby tightly in her arms as she listens to old Moira dispassionately. Her husband is out working in the fields, a man of the soil, melding with the dark, cold earth daily. He tills the soil and wrests from the earth her fruits, children of his toil and her fertility. Caitlin is absorbed with her new life, enjoying a form of happiness perhaps, while looking into her son’s bright blue eyes, tolerating her husband’s stolid earthbound nature, but never having forgotten, never being completely free, never again having sung or having broken into unrestrained, soul deep laughter... Moira’s voice drones on: “They found the body washed up on the shore of some God-forsaken land. There was no doubt it was him, he was recognized by some of our men. He had this around his neck...” Caitlin looks at the old woman who avoids her eyes and recognizes in her a dark force that is somehow tempered by the old woman’s love for her. She looks at the chain in Moira’s withered hands. The pure gold shines and the emerald sparkles. She looks at the jewel and feels somehow that it is incomplete, as though something else that should be there, is missing, as though she has seen it before in a dream... The old woman extends her hand: “They felt that it belongs to you rightly, to have as a keepsake.” The infant outstretches his hand and grasps the bright green stone, wresting the chain from Moira’s hold. He laughs and looks at the bright new plaything. Caitlin gazes at the jewel in her son’s hands and a single tear trickles down her cheek, a pure pearl, silky smooth against her pale skin. Moira looks at her and nods, “The Sea, she takes all of them that are hers. She, and only she, will have their souls in her possession and we have no claim upon them, to us they nevermore return...”

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