Luck o' the Irish

"Mr. Mackenzie?" The door clicks shut behind me as I step further into the plain, white room. "Mr. Mackenzie, my name is Gwen Iverson."

With his back toward me, the man continues staring out the window. As the raindrops pelt the glass and streak their way down, he lets out a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Did anyone tell you I was coming, Mr. Mackenzie? I'm..." I pause to set my things on the table and slide into one of the wooden seats. "I'd like to interview–"

"Aye, they told me. I know who ye are, lass, and I know about the book ye plan to write." The man spins around. His blue eyes narrow at me. "Now, quit calling me 'mister.' The name's Ewan."

"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you, Ewan." I offer a handshake, but he ignores it. Clearing my throat, I lean back against the chair. "Would you mind telling me your story, Ewan? How you ended up in this place? I've heard a little bit about it, and I–"

"Only if ye swear an oath."

"Uh..." My brows crease together. "What kind of oath, exactly?"

Ewan leans across the table toward me. "Ye must swear to me that if ye catch one, ye'll wish me out of here."

I blink at him as my mind runs through his words. "If I catch... one what?"

The man tilts his head and, disbelief etched across his features, he stares at me. When he finally closes his eyes, he starts muttering to himself. I think I catch a "daft" and a "numpty" in there somewhere. Perhaps even a few less polite terms. I bite my lip to stop my grin from showing.

"I'll tell ye my story on one condition." Staring into my eyes, Ewan jabs a finger in my direction. "Swear to me: if ye find a leprechaun, ye'll use one of the wishes to set me free."

"I swear to you, Ewan Mackenzie. If I ever find a leprechaun," I place one hand over my heart and match his intense gaze, "I'll ask him to set you free from this institute."

"Aye." Ewan nods. The tension melts out of his shoulders as he leans back into his seat. "That'll do."

"So, Ewan," I pull a notepad and ink pen from my bag, "what–"

"Haud yer wheesht, woman."

His words don't make sense to me, but the look he gives me does, so I clamp my mouth shut. I've never had an interview go quite like this. Intrigued, I rest my chin against my fist and wait.

The torrent of rain blocks the view out the window. Ewan's eyes drift that way. The clock ticks away the seconds. Eventually, he leans toward the glass and whispers, "There's one close." A sudden crack of thunder breaks his trance and he turns his focus back to me.

"Gran always said I had the luck o' the Irish."

"I thought y–"

"Course I'm Scottish! That's half the joke, ye..." Ewan bites off his own words and narrows his eyes at me. He exhales heavily before continuing, "Born and raised in Scotland, but spent a fair bit of time in the States as well. Ever since I was a lad, I've had the worst luck." He lifts an eyebrow at me in emphasis. "The other half of the joke, ye ken."

I nod, ignoring the mocking tone and thinly veiled jab at my intelligence.

"Always losing money, my things kept getting stolen, cars always breaking down. Anything bad, well, it was sure to happen to me. I vowed to turn things 'round. I took classes and exercised. Searched for a better job. When that didn't help, I started going... A bit more superstitious. Throwing salt over my shoulder. Searching for four-leaf clovers and the like. Tried everything. Course, I wisna thrown in here until I tried to catch the wee laddie under the rainbow."

"So, how did that–"

"Woman! Do ye not ken how to shut yer gob and listen?"

Fighting my urge to giggle, I gesture that I'm locking my lips and throwing away the key. I shouldn't laugh, but the man is just so ridiculously... intense.

"I found a leprechaun."

"You found..."

"Aye!" Wild-eyed, he leans across the table toward me. "I found him! Wee green hat, curly red beard. Standing at the end of a rainbow, just like the stories."

"Ah." The rain has slowed down considerably and the sky begins to let a bit of light through. I tap my pencil against the notepad. The steady rhythm echoes the light sprinkle outside. "But... seeing little people in green–"

"Leprechauns!"

"Er, right. Sorry. Seeing leprechauns isn't enough to get you locked away. Right? There had to–"

"Aye." The wind seems to go out of his sails as he settles back into his seat. He stares off into the distance, lost in a memory. "Aye, there was. I was walking over a bridge, that rainy day. Then, in the blink of an eye, the rain stopped and the clouds cleared away. The sky lit up with the most brilliant rainbow I had ever seen. I froze. My eyes traced the colorful arc until I saw the end of it. There, just at the edge of the river below me. The little, bearded man was just sitting there. Tossing gold coins into the pot. I coudnae believe my luck! There he was!

"I climbed up on the bridge rail, ready to jump down there and claim my prize. But just as I leaned forward, someone grabbed me 'round the waist and knocked me back onto the bridge. They thought they were saving my life. I started shoutin' about the wee little man down below, but he vanished, along with the rainbow. 'Course to everyone gathering 'round, it looked like I was suicidal and hallucinating. And now, well... 'A danger to myself,' they said..." He shrugs as his voice trails away.

I stare down at my notepad, unsure what to say. Especially now that he's gone from manic to simply depressed. A knock on the door draws my attention, and the nurse on the other side gestures to her wrist. "Ewan, it was nice to meet you. Unfortunately, the visiting hour is up." I gather up my things and take a step toward the door. "Would it be alright if I come visit you again?" The man, gaze pointed out the window once again, doesn't respond.

A few minutes later, I step through the building's main exit and into the parking lot. The afternoon sun reflects off the puddles. I squint up at the sky, and giggle breaks free as I see it the streak of bright colors. I shake my head, take a step toward my car, and then freeze. There, in the middle of the road is the end of the rainbow. And next to it...

My jaw drops. I feel my keys slip out of my hand, but I don't dare take my eyes off the little green-clad man with the auburn beard. I keep walking, hardly daring to breathe. I reach out, nearly there.

HONK! Screeech!

I stumble backwards into the ditch as the car swerves around me. Heart racing, I turn my attention back toward the center of the road. He's gone.

A pair of hands grabs my shoulders and drags me further away from traffic. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I... Did you see... There was..." Swallowing hard, I blink up at the stranger. His green scrubs – and the memory of Ewan's story – make me rethink my words. "Thank you. I... was distracted. I just have too much on my mind right now." I try my best to smile reassuringly.

I notice in the corner of my vision, Ewan's face is pressed against the glass. The stranger helps me to my feet just as Ewan retreats back into his room.

----------------

Two years later

A man steps off the sidewalk, into the parking lot, and I wave. He looks my way, confusion etched across his face.

"Ewan! Over here!"

With wrinkled brow, he moves closer. "Who are you?"

"Gwen Iverson. I came here and interviewed you a couple years ago."

"Aye!" He nods as the memory finally clicks into place. "Where've ye been all this time? Ye said ye'd be back."

"I know, I'm sorry about that. I've been busy."

"What've ye been so busy with, woman? Leaving me here all by myself! Ye said ye'd be–"

"Haud yer wheesht, man." I can't help but laugh at my own terrible Scottish accent. Ewan seems startled into silence though. "I had a promise to fulfill. Why do you think they're suddenly letting you go?"

"Ye found..." His voice shakes. "Ye caught..."

"Yeah, I caught one. And I wished you free." I open the trunk of my car and pull out a large pet carrier. A tuft of curly, red beard pokes through the bars. "I did take a little bit of the gold. But the rest of the gold, and the leprechaun's other two wishes, well... They're yours. Your luck has finally changed."

His eyes dart from the carrier, to me, and back again. Finally, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I kent ye were daft, woman."

"Yep." I smile at the man as I climb back into my car. "Take care. And good luck, Ewan!"