Eileen of Eire: Chapter One

  "Mrs. O'Sullivan?" I called into the tiny brown shack, shifting the large basket full of eggs in my hands.
  As usual, the three room building which the crammed O'Sullivans called home was dirty and in general disarray. As I set the basket softly onto the crude homemade kitchen table, a stout, rosy cheeked woman with an unruly brown mop of hair stepped out of a bedroom, wiping her grimey hands on a dirty cloth. Mrs. O'Sullivan smiled cheerily at me and, setting aside the rag, greeted me with "Hello, Eileen! Thank you so much for giving us eggs again. It is extremely generous of your family. How is your dear ma?"
  I smiled back and responded politely, "Just fine, thank you ma'am. She'd have come herself except Papa and John caught a wild turkey yesterday, and we're having it for dinner tonight since it's my birthday. You know how time consuming it is to make a turkey, I'm sure."
  "Oh yes... Bill used to love hunting.." said Mrs. O'Sullivan, her voice drifting away. Mrs. O'Sullivan's eyes glazed over, and she sat down in an old wicker chair.
  "Mrs. O'Sullivan? Are you all right?" I asked, concerned. When I didn't get an answer, I called frantically for Polly, Mrs. O'Sullivan's eldest daughter.
  Polly, a lass of eighteen who was an uncanny resemblance of what Mrs. O'Sullivan must have looked like as a girl, rushed in. With one look at her ma, she groaned and asked me accusingly, "Eileen Flynn, what did you say to her? She only gets this way when someone speaks of me dad!"
  "I swear, Polly, I didn't say anything about your papa, all I said was that Ma was making turkey for my birthday dinner tonight!"
  Polly rolled her eyes and, with great effort, dragged Mrs. O'Sullivan into her bedroom. I felt terrible. Mr. O'Sullivan had died last year while hunting, of all things, turkeys. For months afterward, all Mrs. O'Sullivan did was lay in bed staring mindlessly at the ceiling or weeping horribly. Lately, she'd been doing better, but any mention of her husband sent her back into a terrible state.
  Finally  Polly came back in. She was more calm now, and her eyes laid on the egg basket. "You brought eggs again?" she asked. I nodded. "Thank you. And you said it's your birthday?" I nodded again. "I knew it was coming up, so I told Ma to get you a little something." Polly began rumaging in a small chest, then pulled out a beautiful green ribbon and handed it to me. "Here you are. Thank you for bringing by things for us. I hate to admit it, but without your family's generosity, we'd have been without a home months ago. We don't have the money to be spending on food, as I'm sure you know, what with Pa gone and the English constantly taking things from us."
  I nodded. I'd never felt that we were wanting, but I knew that the King of England was raising taxes and so things must be going hard for the O'Sullivans. The only money they had now was from the pillows Polly sometimes sold at market once a month. "Thank you very much, Polly. I'd better be going. Have a nice day, Polly," I said.
  "Thank you, Eileen, and the same to you," she said with a small smile- a rare feat, coming from Polly.
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  When I arrived home, Ma already had the turkey set in the pot to cook. She smiled at me. "There you are, Eileen. How are the O'Sullivans today?" she asked. When I told Ma what had happened, she frowned in frustration. I knew Ma wasn't mad at me, but Mrs. O'Sullivan was one of her dearest friends, and she hated what had happened to her. "That's a pity. Perhaps I should visit her later today."
  I shook my head. "No, Ma, you know how she gets. Who knows how long this spell could last! She'll be in a state for a while yet."
  Ma nodded. "I know," she replied. Then changing the subject, she said seriously, "Eileen, I need to tell you something, and it's very important that you keep it to yourself."
  "I promise, Ma," I said. Ma rarely told me secrets, so I knew that whatever it was had to be important.
  "Make sure that no one else is in the cottage," Ma insisted.
    I obediently checked first Ma and Papa's room. It was almost as large as the kitchen, with their big bed with the straw mattress and the two wooden chests Papa had made for their wedding. In the corner they even had a stone fireplace- a feature that most Irish cottages did not possess. But Ma hated to be cold, so when Papa made the cottage eighteen years ago, she'd insisted that he include a fireplace in their bedroom. After I made sure that none of my michievious siblings were hiding in there, I climbed the ladder up to the attic. The attic was very large and was divided by a thin ragged curtain. On one side was the bed that my three brothers John, Paul, and Patrick shared. On the other side was the bed shared by my sisters Molly and Fiona and me. No one was there either, so I retreated back to the kitchen, where Ma was staring lovingly at a small wooden box she cradeled in her arms.
  I'd never seen the box before, and I suspected that it had something to do with whatever Ma was about to tell me. The box was beautifully engraved, with flowers and ivy vines lining the sides. And even stranger, it had teeny tiny holes poking through odd places. On the top and the sides, a phrase was engraved in Gaelic, which I'd never learned to read. Ever since the English had grown interested in Ireland, Gaelic had grown less and less common. King Henry VIII, the current king, seemed to be the worst so far. Ma looked up when she saw me peering curiously at the box, and she murmured quietly, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
  "Oh, yes Ma! What does it say?" I asked, pointing at the words.
  "It says 'Ireland Forever' in Gaelic. That's important to remember, especially now, Eileen." I nodded, and Ma continued, saying, "Eileen, have you ever seen a Little Person?"
  Little People, also known as leprechauns, were supposedly common in Ireland. I'd never seen one though, so I really didn't believe in them. "No, I haven't," I replied, wondering where this was going.
  "What about a faerie?" I shook my head. Ma sighed. "Well Eileen, that just shows how much Ireland has been suffering. When I was a girl, faeries and leprechauns were everywhere, and the Irish people were friends with them. And, Eileen, some people were better friends with the faerie folk and leprechauns than others.The women of my family were so close with them that it was almost as though we were a part of them. Who knows, maybe we were somewhere along the line. And we've always been protected by them," Ma opened the box slightly. "Eileen, you're turning sixteen today. So now, it's time for you to have this." She handed the box to me. "Go ahead, you can look."
  I opened the box and my mouth dropped. Inside sat a tiny, perfect, faerie girl. She had long silvery blonde hair, big violet-blue eyes and her wings were delicate and colorful, with intricate swirly purple lines on a sea of pale green. Upon seeing me, the faerie gave me a wide smile and flew up so that she was at eye level. In a high pitched, light voice, she chirped, "Hello, I'm Shea, your new faerie!"
  I was speechless. I had a faerie? Ma must have seen my confusion and she said, barely hiding her obvious excitement, "Eileen, Shea is the daughter of my faeries, Maeve and Paddy. She is exactly 167 years old in faerie years, which means that she was born sometime on this date sixteen years ago in human years, like you. Shea is the perfect companion for you, Eileen. She'll be your friend and she'll protect you from any harm."
  "No offense, Ma- or to you, Shea- but how am I supposed to be friends with a faerie? We can't exactly go traipsing around Ireland. Someone will try to take her from me."
  "I've forgotten, dear, you weren't around in the days when faeries were common. You see, faeries possess extremely powerful magic, even more powerful than leprechauns. They can make themselves invisible so they can sit on your shoulder, they can make themselves incredibly tiny so they can sit in a small leather pouch around your neck- who knows what they can do? Whatever you want Shea to do, she will do it, but only if you ask politely. You must remember, though they are tiny, faeries are creatures too, and they don't take rudeness lightly. Isn't that right, Shea?" The faerie nodded enthusiastically.
  I sighed, not because I was upset but because all of this was so overwhelming. I was, in fact, incredibly excited. How many other sixteen year old girls had their own faerie godmothers?, I wondered. For, although my mother had not said so, I knew that that was the role that Shea would be filling. After a moment, I said, "Well Shea, what method of being with me all the time would be most comfortable to you?"
  Shea paused for a second, then laughed with a twinkling giggle. "Certainly not that old wooden box, that's for sure!" she said. "Sure, it's very beautiful, but it's not very comfortable. That leather necklace sounds nice though. I'd be willing to try that."
  Ma smiled. "Then you may have my old one. I had it before Paddy came along, when it was just me and Maeve." Ma handed me a tiny leather pouch about the size of my thumb. "Now run off."
  And so I began my life with a faerie.