Episode#29: My Short Story Contest Entry

 I originally wrote the following short story back in 2007 after I read an article in the local news paper about a story writing contest sponsored by the North Central Texas College. There were few rules and the contest was open to anyone that wanted to enter. I used some of the experience from my 2006 adventure trip to Ireland as the catalyst of my story. I won no prize nor any recognition but it was fun to just sit and creatively write. This was my first attempt at writing a fictional short story and I titled it The Real Treasure Quest.

I did a final check of all of my paper work and my passport as I left for DFW International Airport early that morning knowing I had to change planes at JFK in New York City with a long layover before proceeding on to Ireland. It was a nice smooth overnight flight from JFK landing at the Shannon Airport at dawn the next morning. This was the first time I had been to Ireland and was excited and ready to get started on my adventure as soon as I can get out of this surprisingly busy airport.

As I exited the plane and made my way through customs, I knew I would get the third degree from the Port Entry Officer as I made my way through customs. So when she asked of the purpose of my visit, I repeated the same comments on the entry card I filled out before we landed of ‘vacation and sight-seeing’. The fact of the matter is I was there on business, the business of separating fact from folklore of leprechauns and of magic and riches. I have pondered this question since I was a kid and had spent years researching the long told story of Ireland.

I knew my answer was not to be found in the more urban portions of the country so I stayed away from the likes of Dublin, Belfast and other big cities. I would spend my time in the countryside of rolling hills of green, fences of stone and herds of sheep. On the way I stopped in one of the countless pubs in one of the many rural hamlets that dot the countryside. I visited with a robust, ruddy and very friendly tavern keeper. As I open the heavy wooden door it squeaked loudly he looked up and flashed a quick easy smile and an even quicker wink as he greeted me and waved me up to the bar. I was afraid to speak of my mission so I maintained my cover by just asking generic questions of local history.

My new friend's name was Reamann Leipreach'an, and he was eager for conversation like most Irish are. That afternoon business was slow and the tavern was empty and somehow we start talking about the legend of Big Foot in America. As I sat there on the bar stool he asks me if I had heard the recent news of the this area. Though I had, I was playing my hand slowly, and said I had not, and asked him to tell the story. Reamann told me of a sighting of this country’s most popular legend, a true to life leprechaun. I feigned adequate interest and with my natural but a little exaggerated Texas drawl said “naw sir I haven’t but would like to hear more about it”. Ray Ray as he preferred to be called tells me in detail where this sighting occurred which was in the country side nearby. He was a slightly disabled fella with a bum knee and would rather talk about the story than chase the story, so I struck a deal with him. I said if I should happen to stumble on this legend, I would share with him my new found treasures on a 50-50 basis if there really was a pot of gold coins. His smile and wink was his handshake and his agreement.

I found myself on a fast track to the southwest portion of this beautiful nation, an area known as the Dingle Peninsula. I stepped off the bus in the township of Dingle and was ready to stretch my legs. While the bus line system seems to serve the locals well it is nothing like what we are used to with the bus line back home. It took me almost 7 hours to travel the required 120 mile with all of the small town stops. I located a bed and breakfast that fit my budget then wandered around town. It was a nice clean place but very small. The wooden spiral stairway up to my room was barely wide enough to walk up and carry my duffle bag and back pack.

The next morning I had a full Irish breakfast and was looking to secure my lunch so I walked down the street to a local market and asked about a sandwich. The lady behind the counter had no idea what I was asking about. After another attempt to describe what I was asking about, “We” decided what I wanted known here as a meat-roll. She made the meat-roll to my specifications and I headed out. I hiked across the peninsula toward the town of Cloghane. During the hike I came across the worst rain storm I have ever seen not to mention ten times worse anything I have ever hiked through.

As the rain pelted down and the wind blew so hard I could barely stand, I had to call upon all of my resolve just to continue. As I crested the top of a small hill I had to cross, I realized I had wandered too close to the edge as the wind and rain made it impossible to locate a point of reference to maintain my direction. An unusually strong gust of wind caused me to lose my balance and streams of rain water made my footing very unstable. I slipped  and found myself stumbling toward the edge of the shear cliff face that ended in the breaking waves of the icy cold Atlantic Ocean as it crashed on the rocky ragged shoreline with no beach. 

Just as I approached the edge of the cliff and likely to my demise, I felt something snag me by the shoulder strap of my backpack. It wasn't much but it slowed me just enough so I could grab an exposed tree root near the edge and was able to stop my momentum. I was breathing hard and my heart was about to jump out of my chest when I heard a voice behind me say “saints be alive lad, that was a close shave”. I turned and was looking at what I had dreamed about since childhood and only seen in cartoons and on cereal boxes. The object of my quest was squatting down just a few feet away. My head was spinning, had I fallen off the edge and having one of those out of body experiences? It was all so real, too real to be a fantasy. I realized that the rain suddenly was down to a sprinkle and the wind seems to have calmed to a swirling whisper.

I was dripping wet and freezing to death, but suddenly none of that mattered. It was like I was watching myself in a movie or having a fully detailed dream in full color. For the second time in as many days I saw the same quick, genuine smile and wink as our eyes met that I had seen when I met my tavern keeper friend. He seemed so calm and at ease with me there as I sat up and peeled off my rain-soaked backpack. I was able to put together a few words that asked the obvious question, “Are you what I think you are?” He answered slowly and said "I suppose lad, that depends on what you ‘think’ I am" and flashed that familiar quick smile  again. By now I had caught my breath and was able to think a little clearer and decided I was not dead, nor was I having a dream.

He was taller than what I expected and substantially ‘stouter’ and obviously not a young man or leprechaun. The conversation was easy and we visited like old friends just catching up. I am not sure if minutes had passed or hours when I asked his name. He said “laddie, me friends call me different names but I would just rather you call me by my Christian name, Sheamus Rae".

After chatting for a bit I felt the time was right to bring up the two questions that had burned within me for so many years. First was that of the magic of the now confirmed leprechaun of Ireland. He informed me that the magic I was curious about was indeed real and what’s more amazing could be had by anyone. Surprised and dumb-founded, I had to quickly work this out in my mind but it was not coming to me. I needed a little help here, this was not what I expected to hear. A few long moments went by then I asked him “how could this be?” He answered my question with a question of his own. “What truly is on your mind lad?” Already off guard and frustrated, I blurted out “where can I find your treasure, you know the pot of gold I have always heard about?”

He paused for a moment and with a raised eye brow asked “Now we are down to it eh, lad?” I confess I was a little embarrassed by the way he put it, but yeah we are down to it. This was really the answer to both questions, the magic and the treasure all wrapped up in one. As a child I had dreamed of a little golden cauldron over flowing with gold coins that somehow belonged to a mythical and magical little dude in a green suit with a top hat.

You are correct in your thinking lad and I am happy to fulfill your dream, but maybe not in the way ya might be thinkin’. I have but one question ya need to answer for old Sheamus Rea. Now I am excited, confused and anxious all at the same time and was not at all ready for the next question from my legendary friend. What treasure is it lad that ya truly seek? I paused and then I stuttered “I uh, … well I uh” my words were not coming and my thoughts are racing. I came to a full stop and just took a second to soak up the moment, and with that Sheamus gave me that knowing quick easy smile and wink I had seen before. Just a few seconds later, the light bulb in my brain went off and the answer hit me. Suddenly I was speaking without thinking  or premeditation. What I said next surprised even me and said what I want is the happiness and contentment with the things that I already have. I don't really need a pot of gold coins, I just really want a greater appreciation for the blessings I so often take for granted, you know contentment without concern. These words were coming out of my mouth straight from my heart without a stop-over in my brain and not even considering what I was saying.

“Now, where did that come from laddie? That is a long journey from the little pot of gold you asked about a moment ago.” I told my little magical friend (I decided then and there that some magic had to be going on as he knew that I was thinking of that image as a child of a pot of gold) suddenly so many things made sense to me now. I told him of when I met Reamann the tavern keeper and his easy way and how friendly and contented he seemed. With his naturally quick smile and wink, I knew there was something special about him. Then a bit ago the same wink and smile from Sheamus Rae told me I had been missing something. All of these thoughts racing so fast that I cannot even think about what to think about next.

The treasure you seek, you already have he said. You only had to find it within yourself. As far as your first question about the magic of the leprechaun, remember I answered your question by telling you that it is real and available to anyone. You were surprised weren’t ya? Are ya surprised still? Ya just experienced the magic of the leprechaun didn’t ya? He was right and it was awesome, and I felt like I do when I am cold and shivering and put on a warm coat, warm and comfortable.

I was lost in my thoughts for a bit, digesting what has just happened even though I was sitting face to face with an honest to goodness leprechaun. The twinkle in his eye and his easy smile told me that everything that needed to be said had been said and it was time to leave. As I stood up and readied myself for the remainder of my hike on to Cloghane suddenly Sheamus Rae was gone. Not going but gone, like he was never there.

I knew in my heart that he was nowhere to be found and there would be no need to search for him there, so I cinched up the laces on my hiking boots to my soggy water logged socks, threw on my backpack and headed down the trail for another 4 or 5 kilometers. The rain had stopped and the clouds were sparse and no longer threatening. The setting sun rays bounced the most beautiful pink and purple glow off the remaining clouds as it was sinking out of sight below the horizon of the ocean. This was the first time I had ever seen the colors of a perfect sunset. I was exhausted but not weary and the hike was over before I knew it.

It was after dark when I arrived in town, if you can call it that. I found a friendly looking inn, registered there and was ready for a long hot shower and then some dry clothes. Upon the completion of those tasks, I asked the friendly inn keeper about getting a bite of supper. He flashed that same easy smile I had begun to expect from everyone I met there and he directed me to a pub down the block. As it turns out, there are only about 50 people in this little community and there are 3 pubs, go figure. After I ordered my meal I sat with a hot cup of tea and was visited by several in the pub asking me a variety of questions. I found out later that they just wanted me to hear me talk because they found my Texas drawl rather amusing. When asked what brought me to their village I replied oh just checkin’ out the sites and lookin' over the country side I reckon. Of course I embellished the accent a little for their benefit much to their delight.

I made fast friends with the many folks I had met, enjoyed their local talent of musicians and singers, and played a few games of darts before heading off to bed. One of those I met was the owner of the pub named Stiofan and heard my talk about heading home the next day but hoped to be on the early flight and he asked me how and when I was leaving. I said that I was going to the airport when the bus arrives late in the morning. He gave me that familiar grin I had gotten used to seeing, and said lad I would be proud to take ya early so ya can get back to your family. He knew it was almost 2 hours by car and yet he obliged me.

Then next morning we met at his pub at 5:530 am and we were headed to the airport. As we rode along, we talked at times and sometimes we sat silently in the dark. As we were coming into the Shannon town limits he asked me if I found what I came looking for. Interestingly enough, that subject had never been brought up. I nodded and said well I think so, I mean yes. Yes, I did. Nothing else was said until he pulled up to the curb at the international terminal. As we got out of his little car and I wrestled my back pack and duffle bag out of the back he said something that I will never forget. "Ya know, the thing about the magic of the leprechaun is it works best when you share the treasure". I spun around to look at him. This was without a doubt the voice of Sheamus speaking but it was not the leprechaun that I spent the afternoon with the day before. I said excuse me? He said oh nothing, it is just an old saying around here. We shook hands and he flashed that all too familiar quick and easy smile along with the wink that I will never forget. I reasoned in my mind and wondered could this have been him, could this somehow be Sheamus? As I stood there on the curb waving goodbye I decided I was delusional and suffering from fatigue. But still to this day I have to wonder.

I slept on the plane all the way from Shannon to New York City and was napping again when it was time to board my flight to Dallas. When I landed, I found my car in the north remote parking lot of DFW Airport and made the hour long trip home. The entire trip home I wondered if I had imagined some of this or even all of this or was it real? I changed my mind at least a dozen times until I pulled into my drive way. My wife met me as I got out of the car to help me with my bags. The first thing she said was hey this backpack is wet, what on earth happened? I flashed her my new smile and gave her a wink as I said oh nothing really just travel hazards I guess, but I did have quite the adventure. She said well I am surprised because you look pretty rested. Let’s get these wet clothes out of this bag and in the washer. As I finished unpacking she said did you not buy any souvenirs, that is so unlike you.  I said no, but I did bring you something back and it is a story you are not going to believe.

I am not quite sure if she believed much of my tale and quite honestly if I were her I might doubt it too. But take it from me, if you are ever asked if you believe in leprechauns or the magic of Ireland, just smile and wink and tell them you have on good authority that they are both alive and well even today. Just a side note, sometime after my trip I did some research on the name of Reamann Leipreach'an and I found that the last name is the Gaelic word for leprechaun. Now that is really strange huh?

The moral of my adventure - Happiness has less to do about what you have, rather it is what you do with what you have is what really matters.

 Epilog-

As a tribute to my two sons I wanted to include them in the story so I used the Celtic version of their middle names. Sheamus for Shane and Stiofan for Steven. As a matter of fact, when Jacob was born I wanted his middle name to be Shaemus and my Mrs. said that was not going to happen so I settled for the English version Shane.

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