My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

78

“I’m sorry, okay?” Lee said, irritated with me. He’d awoken from his nap and Joe had already gone downstairs to the waiting tour bus. But Lee had taken my questioning the wrong way.

“By the time I realized it was Patrick, and not Mickey,” he was saying, “it was too late to just say ‘By the way, Harry, Patrick’s standing right next to you.’ Besides, after Joe snapped that picture, Patrick winked at me and sat on the counter. Then he vanished. That’s all.”

“You weren’t all that thrilled to go to the museum. Did you sense anything wrong before we joined the group?”

“Harry, this is becoming an obsession with you. It was indigestion. Had nothing to do with the O’Shaunessy’s or any other leprechauns.”

“You didn’t join in a lot of the fun.”

“I hardly felt like climbing up into that huge chair, or putting my face through a cardboard cutout. Now, will you just leave it?”

“Did you or did you not,” I said firmly, “sense something other than that fellow tourist’s hatred toward his brother?”

“No!”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“You of all people know that I can’t just order up a ‘seeing’. I’m not going to discuss this anymore, and we’d better hurry or we’ll miss the bus.”

“You feel well enough?”

“If it gets me out of listening to you harp on and on, I do.”

“I just don’t like being ignored, Lee. You should have told me. Since it was Patrick, it’s not as if I’d have dragged you out of the place post haste.”

“Probably not,  but you would have kept glancing around constantly on the look out for other leprechauns, wouldn’t you? Admit it.”

For a moment I felt like a third grader being scolded by his teacher. (If I’d been a normal third grader, that was. I was years behind in age from my classmates, but years advanced scholastically. And yet, I had the same third grader attributes such as tossing water balloons out the second floor window, and sliding down the stairwell banisters.)

“All right, Lee. All right. Point taken...you sure you can manage the castle and supper afterwards?”

“I can try, and I do feel well enough. But remind me to not to eat everything on my plate. Gawd, I had no idea Maggie would insist on my trying everything. She always did feel it her sacred duty to feed me...”

“She’s a lovey woman, Lee. Any, er...plans now that you’ve been reacquainted?”

“Perhaps,” he smirked. “Come on, we’d better skedaddle.”

“Skedaddle? Language like that just might make the pub or restaurant want to serve you fried rattlesnake.”

“I don’t think they have rattlesnakes here. I seem to remember something about St. Patrick driving all of the slithery serpents out of Ireland.”

“Pure myth,” I said, buttoning my windbreaker. It wasn’t raining, but it was a bit chilly outside. “There never were snakes in Ireland; herpetologists agree that along with New Zealand, Iceland, Greenland and Antarctica, Ireland never had them. It’s a matter of the Cretaceous Period, and subsequent flooding of land bridges...well, anyway, most authorities say a man pointing a staff at snakes ordering them to the sea had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh yea of little faith,” Lee mocked.

“I’m not belittling anyone’s faith, son. But the evidence is pretty conclusive.”

“Well, just don’t tell Mrs. P. about that. Just be glad you’re not going to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the one  in Northern Ireland, that is,  with us...that is...you’re still welcome you know...”

“No, son, I’ll visit Malahide Castle and the National Wax Museum with you tomorrow, but then Seaview should just about be habitable again and I need to get things moving for the barbeque.”

Just then the bus honked its horn.

“Yikes, we’re late,” Lee said and grabbing my arm, raced us down the hall and stairs to the lobby and the waiting bus.

I was glad we could sit together, and I was also glad that  our thorn wasn’t on the bus.

Mrs. P. must have seen my facial inquiry, and leaned over from her seat. “It appears the curse was true.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Mr. Thorndike has boils and itchy hands, some pain moving his fingers...”

Thorndike? Well how about that. He really was a Thorn.

“Poor man,” I said, sounding truthful. But Lee knew, and I’m sure Mrs. Piccadilly knew, I wasn’t sympathetic at all.

Later, while Lee and Joe feigned interest with Dublin Castle, I could tell they were as bored as I. Only a little remained of one of the earlier fortifications, the rest was more of an administration building / palace with a few state rooms. In fact the state rooms are still used on occasion by the national government. But frankly I could hardly wait for the guided tour to end. It wasn’t long before the boys vanished outside. What they talked about I don’t know, but it was an animated discussion or argument if their waving arms and hands meant anything.

Finally, our ordeal was over and we were headed back to the hotel to rest, write postcards, etc.

“Joe,” I whispered after Lee had gone into the bathroom, “what’s up?”

“Huh?”

“I saw you and Lee outside...what were you talking about?”

“Begging your pardon sir, but...”

“Look, I know it’s none of my business. But this is Lee. And he seemed angry...”

Joe bit his lip and surprisingly laughed. In fact, he laughed so hard he had to sit down on Lee’s bed.

“If you must know, sir. We were discussing Maleficent. Seems Lee doesn’t want her declawed as I advised. Says it’s part of her job to be fully equipped, whereas I say, all she has to do is play with and bite the damn rats, should Seaview get any again. Which is pretty doubtful since the fumigation team also installed anti rodent ultrasonics.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of this.”

“Ames told me...he was doing the invoice. Well, these things are specially designed to discourage rodents and reptiles, but not kitties. So you see, sir. Maleficent’s  really out of a job before it’s even started. She doesn’t need claws and will pretty much only be a ship’s pet. But Lee thinks without claws, her survival skills would be negligible if she ever got lost…”

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Lee said, (unaware of our conversation), emerging from the bathroom, garbed in his ancient US Navy sweats, “but I need to run...they have some treadmills in the fitness center downstairs, or there’s a running path through some of the town...how about joining me, Joe?”

“Nope. I think I’ll check out tomorrow’s sights online.”

“How about me?” I asked.

Lee raised an eyebrow.

“All right, not running, but I think I can handle a walk. Maybe around the town...perhaps get in a little shopping....”

“Your idea of shopping is to call the manager, ask if they have what you want and have them deliver it.”

“True enough...but, perhaps a knickknack for Edith...or a thank you something for Mrs. P. After all, my sudden appearance for two days could have put her nose out of joint...”

“She’s delighted you came.”

“Still, it’s the thought...maybe some candy.”

“Okay. Harry. It’s a deal, let me change back into normal togs and we’ll go for a short walk about town.”

“Don’t forget to bring something for dessert back,” Joe said. “I doubt if O’Neil’s will have any.”

That’s where Joe was wrong. It was a Bar and Restaurant, not a plain ordinary pub. The menu was large and wonderful, buffet style, some things could be made to order, and they even had some desserts.

Fortunately, Lee had regained his appetite after our walk around town, and I’d even purchased a very nice box of chocolates (filled with various Irish spirits) for Mrs. P. that I plan on giving her tomorrow after my last excursion with Lee.

By the time we finished our meal and boarded the bus back to the hotel, nobody felt much like talking, we were all so full and drowsy. (Must have been the high blood sugar.) I really will have to tell Will that Lee ate well this morning and evening. It will really make his day.

Lee of course, headed for the pink stuff right away and lay down, groaning that he hadn’t had any will power.

“No, bro,” Joe said, “you didn’t have any ‘won’t power...but relax. I didn’t see anyone going easy in there. Cheech, if they franchised, they’d make a fortune in the states.”

“Wouldn’t be the same,” I said. “Oh, franchised operations are good, but they’re never as good as the originals.”

It was late and the boys had already gone to bed. I used Joe’s laptop to contact Chip via the live cam, and discovered, happily, that the men had been able to move back into Seaview this afternoon.

Malificent’s been washed, combed, blow dried, claws trimmed, and even her teeth were attended to at the vets while the boat was being fumigated. Chip showed me, not a picture, but the cat herself, staring at me from Chip’s personal computer’s keyboard while she tried to play with the cursor. As soon as Chip stroked her, she began to purr.

“Seems as if you have a friend,” I laughed.

“Yeah, she’s going to be awfully nice to have around...any news on Lee? You know what I mean.”

“Nothing new to report about resuming command. As for our day, he had two big meals, and…a kind of ‘experience’ at the Leprechaun Museum.”

Chip paled.

“Sensed something about a member of the tour. I’ll fill you in later, I ordered room service and they’re at the door,” I said.

“All right, sir. Goodnight.”

“ ‘Nite.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Lee yawned.

“All right, I lied. Though, a little something from room service might not be a bad idea.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Well, as Chip would say, there’s always room for milk and cookies.”

“Hmm. There is that.. Add some for me,” he said, sitting up, “Harry, I heard you and Chip talking. I wasn’t eavesdropping, honest I wasn’t...but,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “I want Seaview, I really do, but...I just...can’t....”

“Son,” I said, sitting beside him on his bed, “Chip doesn’t want her.”

“You can’t honestly believe him? He’s a good captain. He’s a good man and he deserves the best...he’s sacrificed a lot for me... whenever I needed him, he was there. If that’s not a great leader, I don’t know what is...”

“He’s embarrassed when he pats her bulkhead,” I said honestly, “the same for when he talks to her. He only does it for you. And has to be reminded.”

“That’ll come in time...”

“No, son. He doesn’t have your empathy with her. He’s not the best man for the job. You are. And as my business partner,” I said, putting my arm around his shoulder, “you know we always want the best men for the job, whatever it is. Think about it. Promise me that much?”

Lee took a deep breath and was silent a moment, then “Call room service for the milk and cookies and I’ll think about thinking about it.”

“Fair enough,” I said, and dialed room service.

“Don’t forget me!” Joe called out from under his covers.

We three spent the next hour discussing itinerary for tomorrow while we downed our late night snacks. It wasn’t long before they both gave up trying to stay awake, and went to bed for real, Lee helping me first with the roll away bed he’d ordered for my stay. Did I dare hint that the mattress was lumpy and I could feel the springs? No doubt he’d insist on switching with me. So I waited until he’d fallen asleep, my excuse for keeping one of the lamps on was for me to write some notes about some kind of bug I’d seen in the bathroom. A lame excuse but accepted, and hence, this entry I’ll be inserting in my journal when I return to Seaview tomorrow night.

Sweet dreams, Lee. And think of Seaview...think of Seaview...she needs you...damn it, we all need you.