The days that followed in Coilin’s absence were pregnant with a new sense of dread. The majority of Donegal’s residents had boarded the ship The Queen’s Lily, alone with my dear brother on the docks somewhere…
I heard from my tiresome neighbor, Siobhan that the Campbells had begun to evict several off their land. Rumors spread like wildfire up and down Donegal’s hills of which family would be next, many fled to cities others had to leave altogether. They felt like there was nothing worth fighting for. Pa never lost hope, though.
Some nights Maeve and I listened to him and Granda through our bedroom wall, singing laments, such songs of bittersweet sorrow. About long black veils long battles with men’s bodies sprawled across the fields and a lone banshee mourning over her lover…
“They’re starting again,” my Pa confided one night, to my mother. “Starting to recruit. I know you’ll disagree and resent it, Molly, dear.” “Angus,” her tired voice waned noticeably. “Food is hard enough to come by, and I’m with child. Please don’t be too reckless.” She allowed a small knowing smile to Pa, as he gave a shaky laugh draping an arm over her delicate shoulders. “Who’s recruitin’, Pa?” I asked taking my time drifting in. “Rebels, Fianna. The British have taken this too far for too long.” Pa’s weary face took a hold of slowly. “Let me join, then.” Pa took to his feet, Ma giving me a contemptuous look, about to give me a mouthful of her mind but I cut in. “I want the Campbells out.” I utter loudly shutting whatever my Pa had previously begun, out of the water. “What about the oh so Handsome Harrison?” Seamus began to mock. “I don’t give a filthy hog’s head about him! His Pa’s threatening our friends. Our people. Pa’s absolutely right, its time they get their arses out of here.”
Pa gave a tiny singular nod to Seamus and Ma.
“She’s ready.”