Strands Of Time

Strands Of Time

  By

  Stuart Mackay

  Published By

  Last Pint Publishing

  Copyright 2015 Stuart Mackay

  Cover design by JD Allan

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents

  Tosdach

  1

  2

  3

  Tioraidh Ma-tha

  1

  2

  3

  4

  Ceann-Uidhe

  1

  Tosdach

  1

  “On this day, Saturday, October the sixth, in the year of our Lord 1877, we are gathered to say our final goodbyes to Aonghas Gillios; Aonghas was a good man, a family man, a good husband to Isbeil, and a fine father to little Fionnlagh, Raibeart and Giorsail. Aonghas was a strong member of our community, just like his ancestors before him. We cannot question why God has chosen to take Aonghas at this time, but we can be assured that it is for a higher cause,” the minister looked up at the sky and the approaching storm that would batter the island yet again, he looked at his congregation and saw the look in their eyes, “let us bow our heads in prayer,” the minister announced.

  The islanders were walking back to their homes, they had laid to rest one of their own, “the minister was in good form of usual Lachlann,” the man looked at his lifelong friend and smiled.

  “Aye, I don’t often like a storm coming in, but in this case I do,” he started to shake his head.

  “He tried his best, he prefers his English tongue, than the Gaelic,” said Faolan, “but I still think he should not be here.”

  Lachlann looked around them, “not everyone on Hirta agrees with you.”

  “I know, but it’s just not the same anymore, the old minister at least understood the Gaelic way of life, an island way of life, this one has come from Glasgow with a basic knowledge of Gaelic, the island is changing, and he is a big part of that change,” replied Faolan.

  “Let’s worry about tomorrow, tomorrow, tonight, we say farewell to Aonghas, and to help us I have a couple bottles of uisge that I got off the tourist ship’s crew last week.”

  Faolan looked around the village, “where?” his voice lowered, making sure they could not be overheard.

  Lachlann looked up and felt the first drops of rain hit his cheek, “the old cleit.”

  Faolan nodded in agreement, “we need to get out of our church clothes, we’ll get changed first and then pay our respects.”

  Lachlann and Faolan were sitting in a cleit that they use to play in when they were young, there used to be 4 of them, Catriona was first to leave, she went to Australia, on the promise of a better life, Aonghas was now in the graveyard where he would always remain; the cleit had not been used since before they had been born, it had originally been built as storeroom, the stone walls and the grass roof had been perfect for keeping things cool and waterproof, but the wind would find its way through the nooks and crannies of the stones, there were hundreds on the island but this one had been changed, the holes in the wall were now filled with earth to keep out the winds, Lachlann handed one of the bottles to Faolan, they opened the bottles with vigour and then looked at each other, “to absent friends, Aonghas, your family is our family, Catriona, may you be living your dreams.”

  “Do you think she is happy?” asked Lachlann.

  Faolan took a deep drink of uisge, “I’m sure she loves her life,” he looked at his friend, “but I’m sure she still thinks about us.”

  They were silent for a while, both enjoying their uisge and remembering the past, “Isbeil will find it hard without Aonghas,” said Lachlann breaking the silence.

  Faolan thought for a moment, “I think Hirta will miss him, there was no one better at faire.”

  Lachlann nodded, remembering the large number of razorbills that Aonghas could catch, he laughed at a memory, “remember when he was on the mistress stone, he would not come down until Isbeil agreed to marry him.”

  Faolan laughed, “she had agreed before he even went on the stone, he just wanted to show off.”

  Lachlann looked out the opening of the cleit and watched as the rain pounded the ground, “how long do you think we will last?” Faolan looked at him, “I mean Hirta, more and more people are visiting us, telling us about the big world out there, telling us how our life could be easier, five families left on the promise of a better life, Catriona was one of them.”

  “Every time you have some uisge, you get all serious about life,” said Faolan, he looked at Lachlann but in the fading light of the early winter day, he couldn’t see his face but he knew the expression that would be on it. “If they came to us again and offered us a better life somewhere, would you take it? Would you leave this behind? Would you leave your ancestors?”

  “I don’t know, would you?” asked Lachlann.

  “Did you hear that?” asked Faolan, he turned and stared into the darkness.

  “You never have answered that question have you, you need to know; ok I heard that.”

  “Someone’s out there,” stated Faolan.

  “It’s probably a sheep or a big mouse,” replied Lachlann.

  Both men were silent as they tried to hear the noise again, but the only sounds was the wind and rain, there was only a quarter moon out so there they couldn’t see much out the opening of the cleit. “Maybe Aonghas is trying to find us,” laughed Faolan.

  They carried on talking into the wee small hours, they were waiting for the rain to ease off before heading for home, old stories were being retold for the umpteenth time but with a belly full of uisge, they were still funny, “that’s not a sheep,” exclaimed Lachlann as he pointed outside, both men watched as the dark shadow walked about outside, “who do you think it is?” asked Lachlann in a hushed tone.

  “I don’t think it’s anyone from the village,” replied Faolan.

  “They must be, there is no one else on the island,” Lachlann made a move to go outside.

  Faolan grabbed his arm, “where are you going?”

  “I’m going to find out who it is,” replied Lachlann as he walked outside, closely followed by Faolan, the person was bending down as if looking for something. “Hello,” said Lachlann hesitantly, the person never turned round.

  “Hello,” said Faolan in a louder voice, again the person did not turn round, “do you recognise him?” he asked, as he was sure it was a man.

  “Do you think he is, real,” asked a worried Lachlann.

  “I really do hope so,” Faolan walked over to the man, and tapped him on the shoulder, “hello,” the man jumped up and took a few steps back, “who are you?” the man just looked at them.

  “Maybe he doesn’t speak Gaelic,” said Lachlann, he addressed the man in his poor English, “your name?” again the man just looked at them, “Lachlann,” he then pointed over to Faolan, “Faolan,” he said, the man looked at them both in the moonlight, Lachlann then pointed at the man but he still refused to speak.

  The rain started again, “we need to head home,” said Faolan.

  “And what do we do with him?” asked Lachlann pointing at the stranger.

  “We’ll take him back to the village; we can’t leave him out here all night.”

  “He must have been here for days, the last ship left last week,” Lachlann motioned for the man to follow them but he didn’t move, “I think he’s scared.”

  Faolan put his hand to his mouth then motioned to his stomach, “food, you must be hungry,” the man watched Faolan and his gestures, then he nodded his head, “ok so he is hungry, lets head back to the village, he should follow us,” the started to walk back to the village, the man followed them a few feet behind. When they got close to the village the stranger seemed to panic and refused to follow them
, “its ok, you will be taken care of, nobody here will hurt you,” the man gingerly followed them.

  The three men entered Lachlann home, even though they were as quiet as possible Lachlann wife Floraidh heard them, “who is he?” she asked pointing at the stranger, Faolan took a light from the fire and lit a candle, “have you two been drinking, on the Sabbath?”

  “Of course not, we stopped before the Sabbath began,” answered Faolan, he then pointed at the stranger, “we found him on the hills, he doesn’t speak the Gaelic or English,” the stranger was moving closer to the fire, he gently held out his hands to the fire and started to smile, “we think he must have arrived with the last ship.”

  “He looks hungry,” said Floraidh taking control of the situation, “and cold, Lachlann get him some warm clothing, Faolan warm up some broth for him, and I can guess you never gave the poor man any of your uisge to warm him up,” both men sheepishly looked at each other, “why are you still standing there?” both men then escaped Floraidh’s gaze, she moved closer to the stranger and moved him closer to the fire, as he sat by the open fire the stream from his wet clothing filled the air, the man smiled as he watched it rise; Lachlann and then Faolan returned with dry clothing and a bowl of broth, “only you both could go into the hills and bring a stranger back; does he have a name?”

  “He doesn’t speak,” replied Lachlann hesitantly.

  “Well we need to call him something,” both men looked at each other, Floraidh exhaled deeply, then we will call him Tosdach, the quiet one,” she pointed at herself, “Floraidh,” the man