The Ghillie Dhu

(Trigger Warnings Include: Violence, Fire.)

The Ghillie Dhu

Over the wind comes a faint melody, and the neighbors know who is singing. It’s the same song they hear every day, weaving her baskets in the meadows as her parents work in Gairloch.

Jessie Macrae lives near the birch tree woods with her kind and loving parents. She is a young girl, and she loves to play.

She knows they love her, and that’s why they work so hard during the day, so they can come home at night. Jessie sings her mother’s lullabies as she weaves the grasses into fantastic baskets and large necklaces too big for any person to wear. She keeps them tucked into her bag until she goes home, when the bag is completely full.

She wiggles her feet as she sits, singing, alone, and bored.

“Bored! Bored, bored, bored… Boring! Boring!” She babbles, rolling around like a rolling pin in the field, flattening the grasses she rolls over.

She sits up as she hears a voice from far away calling to her.

“Jessie! Your Father’s callin’!” It’s the neighbor man, Logan.

“Okay, Mister Logan!”

Jessie bounces up, scooping up her large bag in her arms, a few handmade baskets threatening to topple out. She skips through the meadow until she feels the last pieces of grass brush her bare shins and her sandals click-clack on the gravel road.

The neighbor lady sees her. Her smile is as wonderful as ever, her eyes the color of her pink lips mixed with the serene blue of the sky. Jessie always tells her she should move to the big city and become a model, but Miss Saoirse always laughs it away, rustling a hand through Jessie’s hair.

“Jessie! Look at these wonderful baskets you’ve made. Will you come to town tomorrow and sell them at the market?” Saoirse asks inquisitively. Jessie nods, a bright smile on her face.

“Yes! Mam said I can go to the market and make lotsa money for all of us!”

Soairse smiles sweetly at that. “Ah, Mo leannan, you shouldn’t worry about money at your age.” She squats down in front of Jessie.

“Are you going to the market, Saoirse?”

Saoirse shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid not. But you’ll come home and tell me all about it, won’t you?”

Jessie lets out a disappointed sigh but nods. “Okay. But can you promise to come next time? There’s a lot of ladies who want to meet you! Auntie Mairi’s been asking about you for months now.”

Saoirse laughs aloud at this, hiding her mouth as she beams brightly. Jessie, tugs her hand away from her mouth.

“Don’t hide, your smile is so pretty!” Jessie scolds her. Saoirse’s smile softens, her eyes becoming teary.

“You’re such a good girl, Jessie. I don’t want you to ever lose that kindness.”

“Okay!” Jessie smiles. If Jessie was good at anything, it was following directions. “I’ve got to go home now, my Father’s waiting.”

Saoirse stands up again, giving Jessie a little wave as she leaves. “Bye, Jessie.”

“Jessie, you scared me.” Jessie’s father is all pine and evergreen, though they live by the birch tree forest. He likes to tell Jessie stories from his childhood home in the Highlands.

Jessie places her bag down in the entryway of the home before she rushes into her father’s arms as he kneels to greet her. His voice is warm and rough, like a fire that’s only just gotten started.

“What have you been up to, My Little Messer,” He murmurs into her unruly blonde hair as she keeps her father trapped in her embrace. Jessie doesn’t respond, nuzzling further into her Father’s warm coat.

“Was it a long day?” He asks her quietly, holding her gently. He looks over at her discarded bag, the crafts spilling out onto the floor of their cottage. “It looks like you were busy.”

Jessie nods, slowly and reluctantly detaching herself.

“Papa, can I go to the market with you and Mom tomorrow?” She’s desperate, but tries to hide it.

Coinneach’s face firms slightly, his lips pursing. “Jessie, you know me and your mother would love to take you, but… It’s not safe. You have to walk through the woods to get there, and well…” It sounds a little bit like he’s trying to come up with excuses.

“But Deorsa got to go! It’s not dangerous, is it, Papa? Why can’t I come? Will you at least sell my baskets for me?”

“Jessie… You just can’t.” Coinneach sighs heavily. Jessie looks deeply saddened by her Father’s denial.

“I’ll go myself,” She huffs, upset. She leaves his grasp on her shoulders to linger in the lonesome air as she grabs her bag, scooping up the grass crafts that fell from it, and heads to her bedroom.

“Jessie,” Coinneach’s voice becomes alarmed and stern very quickly, and he chases after her to her room, standing in her doorway, towering over his daughter with a harsh gaze in his hazel eyes. He raises his voice for once. “Jessie, you will not go on your own. You will stay here like you always do. Here, at home, and safe.”

Jessie’s chin trembles. She didn’t mean to make him this angry, but if this is how strongly he feels, then it must be for a good reason.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry at me,” Jessie mumbles, fidgeting with her bag’s handles.

Coinneach lets out a short breath, appearing quite guilty. Jessie doesn’t mean to conflict with her father; she just wants him to take her to the market.

“Sorry.” He quiets himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling, Jessie. Today wasn’t… I…” He looks rougher than usual, the creases under his eyes more visible now that Jessie pays attention. He lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Where’s Mama?” Jessie asks quietly, scared she’ll make her father angry again. “It’s okay to be angry, Papa, I get angry sometimes too,” She whispers, setting her stuff down and slowly coming to hug her Father around the legs.

The sound of a choked sob leaves Coinneach as he kneels down, arms hastily wrapping around Jessie, clutching his daughter desperately as if terrified to let her go.

“You can’t go, Jess. I can’t live without you,” Coinneach whispers. “I need you to be safe.”

Jessie strokes the coarse hair on her Father’s head. He cries against her, and she doesn’t know why, but she has this terrible feeling that something happened to her mother.

Coinneach has reluctantly allowed Jessie to join him on the trek to the Market in Gairloch that happens once a month. Jessie helps him lead the wooden cart where they carry their goods to sell, the little baskets nestled neatly against the crops, the largest basket Jessie made now housing onions and carrots.

They trot comfortably along the woodland trail, the tall and handsome birch trees lining the way, their trunks decorated by mossy vines. Jessie admires her Father for being so strong; he’s carrying the cart almost entirely by himself as they walk, Jessie trying to guide it but struggling more than she wishes. She thinks about the trips he makes this way on his own, her eyes twinkling curiously as her gaze wanders up his bare arms, wandering over each long scratch and scrape, some newer than others. She wants to be just like him when she grows up.

And soon, the pointy roofs of the Gairloch houses peak out from the hills, and the soft brine of the sea fills their noses.

“I see it, Papa, I see it!” Jessie’s voice chimes as she runs ahead.

“Don’t fall!” Coinneach calls after her. He watches her fondly and she runs along the emerging stone road.

The Market is wonderous, and the sea glitters under the sun, which hangs brightly in the sky. The baskets sell quickly, and Jessie helps her father attract as many customers as she can. How fun! How new! It is so fun to be out in the sun with her father, selling their crops and goods together.

Jessie embraces her father at some point, startling him slightly. He laughs warmly at her, petting her head.

“I love you, Papa.”

He lets out an deep exhale, a sweet peace falling over the little family as they hug in their booth at the market.

“I love you too, A bhobain.”

The sun sets late in the summer, far past the time when Jessie should be asleep; that’s what her father tells her, at least. The two begin to set off on their hike back through the birch tree woods.

The moss grows on the trees, and the way is clear as the light is still bouncing from the bark. They have no fear, and no one should as the woods are just trees, and the trees aren’t all that tall. Jessie runs ahead now, and Coinneach has the cart in his hands. He can not reach out to stop her.

“Don’t go too far!” But Jessie is already out of his view.

She looks back to smile at her Father, but he is suddenly gone. She looks around. Jessie is quite sure she has stayed on the trail, there’s still dirt beneath her sandals, afterall. However, her eyes fall to the bases of the birch trees. There is dirt all over the forest floor. She peers around their skinny trunks. She has strayed too far from view.

“Papa?”

She begins to wander around, only growing more concerned. She didn’t think she had gone that far. At least the sun is still out. The trees look familiar in every direction she looks. She wanders further, searching now, for her Father who is slowly making it back home.

“Papa,” She calls out, little hands on each side of her mouth. She learned this trick from Mister Logan when he taught her to herd sheep. He had told her, ‘You gotta be loud for them to hear ya, since you’re still so little.’

Jessie finds herself beginning to fidget with her dress, eyes darting around. Her heartbeat quickens.

“Dad?” She whimpers. Tears threaten the corners of her eyes. She wipes them away. She’s a big girl now, her Father let her go to the Market. She doesn’t have time to cry, she needs to find him.

But she is scared. The light in the sky begins to dim. The woods are orange now, a beautiful color, but the setting sun only makes Jessie more anxious. Her body darts frantically around the wood. She’s been walking around for hours now, but finally, exhausted, she slumps against a tree and begins to cry. She’s given up. Her hair is all messy from the wind and it falls to hide her face like a sheltering curtain of straw. She cries there for so long, she begins to wonder if anyone is coming to find her.

She wanted to be brave. Oh, what about Saoirse? She wanted to know about the market, how will Jessie ever tell her now? She sits and sobs harder. Her father, her papa. She hugs her knees tighter as she thinks of him and how worried he must be. It ties her stomach into a knot. He’s always worrying about her, always telling her to stay close and in view. Why didn’t she listen? Why didn’t she just stay beside him like she always does? Stupid little girl. She’s really in the rocks now.

Suddenly, the ground trembles. Trees shake and stumble about like beasts, and then creak as the trembling slows. Jessie lifts her head cautiously, big blue eyes peering out at whatever was making those terribly loud, earth-rattling noises.

“Are you alright?” The voice is shockingly soft-spoken. She sees a face poking out from behind the branches of the tree above her. It is larger than any face she has ever seen, long and wild dark hair cascading from its head. Then a hand emerges. The nails are uneven, and the palm is larger than the tree trunk. A narrow body, shrouded in a cloak of moss and leaves, emerges, crouching down to sit beside Jessie.

Jessie blinks, bewildered. “I… I’m lost,” She sniffles, finding her words. This humongous and disheveled man appears to be kind.

The creature smiles gently. “Are you all alone?” It looks around, as if to check.

“Yeah, my papa’s probably back home by now,” She mutters, wiping her running nose.

The creature nods. “Would you like to have a conversation to calm you down?” Jessie nods desperately, clearly still shaken by the lack of her father’s presence while being in the woods.

“Well, how about we introduce ourselves first,” The creature murmurs, voice quieting to mimic Jessie’s tone. “Your people like to call me the Ghillie Dhu.”

Jessie nods, swallowing her nerves. “I’m Jessie Macrae. Will you help me? I…” Her voice trails off as she begins to cry again, sniffling and hiding her eyes.

Then a soft weight eases onto her back, the Ghillie Dhu’s hand. She cries a little harder at the comfort, shoulders shaking.

“You’re going to be alright, Jessie. I’ll help you get home. Just hold on tight.”

The Ghillie Dhu scoops Jessie up into his arms and begins to carry her homeward.

A deep purple seeps into the orange corners of the sky, and the Ghillie Dhu gently eases Jessie onto the front steps of her home. She is curled up, sleeping peacefully, and the tall forest dweller finds himself smiling softly at her.

Then a yell. A harsh yell. It crescendos through the night and the tall, yet not nearly as tall as the Ghillie Dhu, figure of Jessie’s father appears. He has a torch in his hand, burning brightly, his face angry and scared.

“Did you hurt her?! Get away from my daughter!” Coinneach howls at the beast, rushing towards what he thinks is a beast, but is now simply a startled giant.

“I didn’t-” The Ghillie Dhu begins to speak hastily, but the village people swarm him. His large, monstrous figure, clad with the gangly roots, moss and leaves, terrifies the townspeople. They thrust their rakes and torches towards him. The search party Coinneach had assembled is now turned into a distraught mob.

Coinneach, though, is crouching now by his daughter, trembling hands touching her face, and then her eyes blink open from the noise. She looks alarmed, the cacophonous roaring of voices startling and confusing her. Coinneach scoops her up into his arms, holding her to his chest.

“You’re okay. You’re safe now, I’ve got you,” He whispers to her, but Jessie can hardly hear him over the sudden wails from the Ghillie Dhu. She crains her head to see over her father’s shoulder, and her frantic eyes settle on the Ghillie Dhu, moss clothes and black hair burning from the torches, roaring like a lion out of pain. She starts to bawl.

“He helped me! He helped me! Please, stop hurting him!” She cries out, reaching her hand in the Ghillie Dhu’s direction.

Coinneach glances back at the Ghillie Dhu, which he seems to perceive to be a monstrous beast, but the beast’s vulnerability is apparent even through the raging flames. The Ghillie Dhu is crying, curling its giant body into a ball tiny ball. When Jessie looks desperately at him, she sees something akin to regret in his eyes, but he does not tell the people to stop. He picks Jessie up and takes her home.

“This is why we don’t wander off,” Coinnech tells her as he lays her into bed. She is still crying. He runs his fingers through her hair.

“Why didn’t you help him?” Jessie sniffles, her brown eyes looking at him desperately. His eyes are glazed by a traumatized layer still from yesterday, but Jessie is more worried about the Ghillie Dhu than her mother right now.

“It’s nothing more than a beast. They all fade away eventually, no need to get attached.”

Jessie lies there, crying herself to sleep as Coinneach is suddenly seized by exhaustion, his head falling to the edge of Jessie’s mattress, staying there for the rest of the night as his hand remains buried sweetly in Jessie’s soft blonde hair.

The cries of the Ghillie Dhu remain all night long in the summer wind, his skin charring agonizingly. Everyone in the village goes to sleep, leaving the harmless beast to sit and suffer. Jessie can hear him, but she wouldn’t want to wake her father and scare him more.

“How cruel we are,” She whispers, tears trailing down her small cheeks. “I can’t help you now, Ghillie. Please wait for me.”

She curls up in her patterned covers, her tears staining a small puddle. She falls asleep, oblivious to the magnitude of the suffering outside. What blissful innocence it is to be a child.

The End.