Bluebells in the Burren

If things weren’t difficult enough, the fog was going to make it worse. And, of course, after the luck that Jack had over the past year, such an unnatural mist would plague him in such an environment. “You just need to take some time and breathe,” his friend Carol had said when she brought up the idea for the trip. It was hard to do that when balancing on craggy rocks while not being able to see a meter in front of you. To make things better, the sun was also beginning to set.

Jack stepped from one rough clint of the limestone pavement to another, trying not to stumble and catch his foot in one of the perilous grikes and wishing he were back in his office, where he knew he should be. As he gazed down at the variety of ferns and flowers that called the crevasses of the Burren home, creating a lush contrast to the lunar landscape, all he saw was a missed research opportunity. He needed to find where he and Carol agreed upon meeting an hour and a half before, and if he didn’t soon, the dark fog creeping in might make it impossible.

Even though he had been doing his best to avoid the crowds of chatty tourists, now, he wished he would come across another person. He couldn't see or hear anyone, and the atmosphere was putting him a bit on edge. He realized that he couldn’t hear the waves of the ocean rolling on the Irish coast that he knew was nearby either. It was as if the haze was so condensed that it didn’t allow noise to travel. He sighed with relief when his feet finally met smooth, grass-covered ground. He called out for his friend once more, hoping that, if not her, someone would be near to hear him.

As if the name were a signal, and his wishes were answered, the mist slowly cleared. To Jack’s amazement, he didn’t see the expected grey outcrop or rocky shore of the ocean. He saw a towering Hawthorn tree covered in fresh, petite, white blossoms. The tree was in the middle of a rich, green forest. It wasn’t impossible to see such a tree among the Burren landscape, but not where Jack had been moments ago or one so great. It was unsettling, but being a dedicated botanist, he couldn’t help but be overpowered with curiosity. He was so focused on the preternatural tree that he didn’t notice the person walking out from behind a hazel tree on the other side of the small clearing.

He almost blended in with the forest around them. His clothes were both rustic and elegant looking, in dull greens and browns. The light ginger of his hair was what made him stand out. In the basket he carried on his arm, he placed the berries and hazelnuts he picked from the bramble bushes and trees. The effect caused Jack to still for a moment. The man alone, with the help of the surroundings, felt otherworldly. He would think he was in a dream if his senses weren’t telling him otherwise. Given his clothing and agricultural activity, Jack thought the man must be one of the local farmers he had heard of. As he turned in Jack’s direction, he found his voice.

“Excuse me. I seem to be lost.”

The man was more surprised than Jack. He hesitantly glanced from him to their surroundings and back, then asked where he was from. To Jack’s answer of “Dublin,” the man responded, “Yes, it appears you are.”

“Can you help me?”

Instead of answering, he gripped his basket while looking behind him.

“You need to turn back and get out of here.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Jack said impatiently.

For a few moments, the man debated something in his mind. Then he nodded, and Jack followed him through the forest after telling him the spot he needed to get to. He considered introducing himself to the local to make things less awkward. Though, he thought better after seeing the tension in his face and shoulders. The only words he ended up speaking during their walk was to eagerly name one of the more surprising flora or fauna they came across, and his guide would occasionally give an anxious smile. Thus occupied, it wasn’t much longer before they reached the edge of the forest. What met Jack’s eyes after emerging from the last trees was a large stone castle, clearly ancient yet in great shape. There were guards out front and a flowering meadow surrounding it.

His guide turned to him and said, “We’re having a dance tonight. Would you stay for dinner?” He looked at the castle.

They were very wealthy farmers, obviously.

“No, thank you. I need to get back. My friend is expecting me. And we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. Time doesn’t pass the same in your world as it does here.”

So, those were the types of plants the farmers dealt with. That explained some things.

He thanked the man again while checking his phone. If it was possible to have negative service, then his did. He sent a text to Carol, hoping it would eventually go through. Then he decided to accept the hospitality on the slim chance that the wealthy farmers had cell service in their castle.

Jack’s hosts clearly had interests outside of agriculture and medieval architecture, because the guards at the front gate and the rest of the guests inside were dressed like they just arrived from a Renaissance fair. There were people in silk dresses and cloaks, leather and gold accents, and they all seemed to glow like the man from the forest did.

After his companion carried his basket into the depths of what appeared to be the pantry and kitchen area, he returned with two pewter cups of pale wine. Jack thanked him and checked his phone again in the chance that he was right, but nothing had changed. And that was what caught his attention. Nothing had changed. His phone showed 5:02 PM, the same time it did the first time he glanced at it. It concerned him for a moment, but then he assumed it was the effect of his phone’s service failure in such a location. He asked if the house happened to have a phone he could use, and his guide, while looking adequately embarrassed, said no.

A bell rang, and they were led into the great hall where equally old-fashioned staff were carrying trays laden with breads, cakes, fruits, and roasted vegetables to the long, oak table in the middle of the room. Jack was invited to take a seat, and a servant set a silver plate filled with the food before him. His companion sat in the seat next to him, and his eyes widened just before he anxiously pushed the plate away.

“It’s best if you don’t eat anything, please.”

Makes sense, Jack thought, to not eat when invited to dinner. As confused as he was, he imagined that it was sound advice given the circumstances. It was after he stared at the offering that he thought about introducing himself and asking the man he was trusting for a name. The man smiled ruefully.

“I’m not allowed to tell that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Right, it’s just a rule,” the man replied simply before taking a sip of wine.

The stares Jack was getting from around the table did nothing to help. He decided to be friendly enough to stay and not eat dinner but would make his way out as soon as he could.

For the rest of dinner, Jack and the man sat side by side, occasionally making small talk until they warmed up to more personal topics. Jack was right that the man did much of the gardening and farming around the castle. While it was a job he admitted to enjoying, he was hesitant to continue that subject. What he enjoyed more was the time he was occasionally able to dedicate to playing the fiddle or sketching the views around the castle. Jack admitted that he hadn’t played an instrument since his flute days in primary school. He had been too busy working towards where he was today. He teasingly hinted at wanting to see said sketches. Their mutual interest in plant life led to an agreement to show Jack around the castle’s garden later in the evening. They were so deep in conversation that Jack didn’t notice the staff clearing the table. The guests stood and proceeded into another room with the furniture moved to the edges. As a band of musicians began a traditional jig, pairs made their way to the floor and started their dance. Jack and his companion stood awkwardly off to the side.

“Thank you for everything, but I really must be going.”

His host turned to him quickly. “Can’t you stay a little longer,” he asked a little guiltily. A tall woman in a flowing, green dress walked towards them from the crowd. He gripped Jack’s arm and led him in the opposite direction. “Well…”

Jack was just about to insist on having to go again before his guide looked at the dancers wistfully and said, “I never have a partner at one of these things.” Jack watched the man’s expression of broken hope with sympathy. He was on the edge of recovering from his own broken hope, after all. He remembered Carol’s advice about possibly getting back out there after his vicious breakup six months previous.

“Why not,” Jack sighed as he held his hand out in his companion’s direction. He was sure this was all a dream anyway, and why not have fun before waking up to his real life?

The man beamed, took his hand, and they walked out onto the floor as a waltz began. Jack’s only experience dancing was when Carol took him out and the pub’s drinks and music were effective enough. But the combination of the elegant room, live music, and his partner’s true glow of enjoyment as he held him close made him genuinely smile and dance along as if he knew how. That was how dreams worked, he guessed. The scowls from the other dancers didn’t even bother him.

Two dances later, the discussion of viewing the garden was revisited. As Jack followed his companion, the latter was stopped when a couple of other guests approached and began conversing with him. They frowned and chided in low tones, and his guide ducked his head low as he quietly responded. Jack wondered if he should step in. Then he thought it probably wasn’t his place.

Either way, the man returned a moment later and apologized for the wait. He guided Jack out a side door into the gardens. The sun had long before set, and, thanks to the lack of light pollution, the moon and stars shone more brilliantly than Jack had ever seen. The light made the plants look more magical as well. As they strolled, the conversation returned to the leaves and flowers around them, Jack’s part on the ecological side and his companion’s on the agricultural. Their route led to a low, stone bench surrounded by a patch of bluebells, and they decided to take a seat and enjoy the night air.

After a comfortable space of silence, his guide asked, “What led you here?”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “You did.”

The man snorted. “No, I mean before that. To the tree. Here, in general.”

“Oh. I got lost. Before that, I guess I’m on a bit of a holiday. A friend made me.”

“Why?”

“Well, um, she thought it would be good for me. It’s… been a tough time recently. Professionally. Personally. I’ve been working towards tenure at my university, even though it seems like all my research proposals have been denied. Then my partner of two years leaves me out of the blue. And I’m sorry, I’m going on.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” His host’s smile and gaze fell.

Jack touched his shoulder consolingly. “Don’t be. This has been great. Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“Oh.” And there was a blush along with the smile that returned. His companion's gaze roamed the ground until it landed on the carpet of bluebells. He picked a stem of them and handed it to Jack. “To remember me. And your time here.”

“Trust me,” Jack said, “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting this any time soon.” He paused a moment then said, hopefully, “I’ll call you?”

“I don’t think that will be possible.”

“Why not?” Jack leaned in.

Then something switched, and his guide turned away with tears in his eyes. He sniffed. “Jack, I can’t leave.”

Jack’s heart sank.

“And you must," his guide hiccupped out. “I’m trapped here and have been for a long time.”

“What do you mean? By them in there? Are you in trouble? I can help you—”

“No, you’ve been here longer than you should. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I was like you once, and if you don’t leave soon, you’ll be trapped here like me. I thought that if I brought someone… I was being selfish.”

“What are you saying? If you’re in danger, I can’t leave you. We can go now, and if not, I’ll go get help.”

“I wish it were that easy.” He looked into Jack’s eyes. “Coinnle.”

“What?”

“My name. Coinnle. You know it now, and if you say it, then you can get out of here.” He grasped Jack’s hands around the bluebells and pushed them towards him. “Just remember me.”

“Of course, I will, Coinnle.”

In the eerie quiet, Jack looked up to see the other guests from the windows and edge of the garden glaring disapprovingly in their direction.

Suddenly, in a nature that only convinced Jack more that it was all a dream, he was back standing on a limestone clint, staring into the foamy waves lulling against the Burren’s shore. The garden and Coinnle were nowhere to be seen. The transition was so extreme that Jack’s heart began to race and his eyes began to sting with tears. Yes, that was the reason.

“Jack,” a voice called out. He swiftly turned around and saw Carol making her way over the rocks towards him. He quickly wiped his tears and took a deep breath before rushing over to her.

“Carol, I’m so sorry. I can explain.” He stopped at his friend’s confused expression.

“What'd you mean? It’s all right. I just saw you and thought we could head to the inn from here.”

“I mean, I know I’ve been gone forever. I’m so sorry if I worried you.”

Carol looked at her watch and shrugged. “It’s only a few minutes past.” She grabbed his arm and grinned. “You know I don’t freak about punctuality as much as you.”

“R-right,” was all he could manage to say. It was a dream, it was a dream, it was a dream. He truly hoped.

Thankfully, she guided him across the difficult terrain, because Jack was having trouble focusing on anything outside of him. As they walked, he placed his hand into his pocket and felt something smooth and delicate. He pulled out a stem of bluebells.

“Hmm, that’s a pretty one,” Carol said, glancing down at it carefully held in his hand.

“Yes, it is.”

He felt the soft petals as they continued to walk. Before they could get too far, he quickly glanced behind them towards the vast ocean.

Silhouetted by the sunset and receding mist, Jack was sure he could see a figure sitting on a rock protruding over the shore. Coinnle smiled sadly and waved as he watched him leave. Jack made them stop where they were and turned to shout, “I will return!” And Coinnle disappeared.

Jack squeezed the flowers as much as he could without hurting them, then returned them to his pocket. He sniffed before linking his arm with Carol’s.

“I’m really glad you liked it so much,” she said, slightly confused.

He nodded slowly before taking a deep breath. “How about we visit again sometime? Soon?”