The Rivening

Emerald Isle

Early April, Peter announced to Connie, "I think I should take a trip."

"That's a great idea. It will do you good to get away. Where do you want to go? China?"

"Oh no, I'm not quite ready for that. I want you to take me someplace."

"Me? Oh really. Like where?"

"You decide. I think it would do us both good to get away. I want to see the world, but I think I need a tour guide to start. I'm not sure how to go about it."

"Oh yeah. Well, I'm not exactly Marco Polo you know. The only place I know outside of Canada is Ireland. You know, because of my stepfather's dig site."

"Okay. Then let's go to Ireland."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Is Ireland nice?"

"It is. It's very nice."

And that quickly, it was decided they would go.

A few weeks later, when they were already in Ireland, Connie and Peter pieced together how Angie and Nicole had worked behind the scenes to plant the idea of their taking a vacation. First by Angie telling Peter it might help lift Connie's spirits if she got out of town and did something different. And then Nicole suggesting to Connie maybe a fun getaway would help Peter get past the guilt he held onto about Jean's death.

He felt he'd let Jean down. He felt he'd been so consumed by the tangle of emotions that were stirred up by her confession that he did little to help her sadness, even though he was reassured numerous times that Jean's doctor said her body simply, quietly gave out.

Peter and Connie decided to spend the month of May in Ireland. Connie suggested a few places they might want to use as hubs to explore different parts of the country. Then Peter completely took over, becoming obsessively absorbed in booking bed and breakfasts and exploring potential sites to visit. He was over the moon after he found a website that listed places around the world where people meet up to play Go. He proceeded to align their travel plans so they intersected with opportunities to drop in on Go nights in pubs around Ireland.

"Have you left us any unscheduled moments in this trip?" Connie teased Peter.

"Plenty. And you know, I'm not expecting you to babysit me once we're there. I'll be fine on my own."

"I know. You've told me that nearly every day."

"I want this to be a happy trip for you. I don't want to cramp your style."

"Hardly possible when there's so little to cramp."

Not until they arrived at the airport, did Peter tell Connie that he had never flown on an airplane before. However, any nervous feelings Connie had about travelling with Peter were dispelled soon after they landed in Dublin. In fact, she felt Peter's lack of travel experience was more of a plus than a minus. His boyish enthusiasm was a comforting propellant for each day's adventures.

They started their trip in Dublin, sometimes staying together for tours of the usual sites and other times splitting apart for explorations on their own. The first Go night Peter attended at a pub near Trinity College spawned local connections that kept their evenings busy. The other hubs on their trip were Cork and Galway, ending in Navan to visit the prehistoric sites along the River Boyne.

Connie was aware that she and Peter came across as a curious twosome to many of the owners and guests of the B & B's where they stayed, but she didn't care. Peter was great company. Easy to travel with, not fussy. She enjoyed dissecting the day's adventures with him over dinner each evening, whether they'd spent the day together or had gone their separate ways. And then plotting their evening's activities, be it a music night or playing Go in a pub, or quietly reading in the common room of the B & B.

Much of Connie's alone time she spent poking around in used bookstores. She didn't buy many books but liked browsing the shelves and the comforting ambience she found in the shops. Many of them welcomed readers to lounge in their overstuffed furniture while idly perusing the inventory. She made a point to purchase at least one book from every shop. Most of the books she bought she left behind in B & B common rooms or on a bench in a pub. She mused that perhaps all of her bookshop wanderings were an attempt to prove to herself how difficult it would be for her to live in a world without books.

Connie could have gone on forever with the easy routine of their days and was sad that the vacation was nearly over. She had no intention of visiting the site of Findley's archaeological dig, or more precisely, the GPS location of her trances. Best leave that be, she thought. Nothing for her there anymore. But, as the trip drew to a close, she knew she couldn't stay away. And their last B & B in Navan was not too far from the trance site. Maybe it could provide a sort of closure for her.

Getting around Ireland, Connie and Peter had relied on public transit and the kindness of acquaintances Peter made playing Go. To go to the GPS location and give her the flexibility she wanted, Connie needed to rent a car. She steeled herself against the stress of driving on the opposite side of the road and the narrow lanes.

Peter offered, "You're sure you don't want me to go with you? You hate driving. I can at least help you navigate."

"It's probably a big nothing. I should go by myself. It might mess up some of your plans. I'll text you."

"Connie. You should see your face. You're all scrunched up. You seem really anxious about this. What's bothering you?"

Connie sat quietly for a moment. "I thought when we came that I wasn't going to visit the site. I have mixed memories about it, but I know I'll regret it if I don't go. And now I'm kind of worked up about it." She laughed, "It's probably the driving that's got me most worked up. I'm thinking I'll leave early in the morning."

"I'll be at the B & B when you come back. Come find me and we'll talk."

"You know you're a nice man, Peter."