Beyond the Bog

By MP Devlin

In the small village of Kiltee, on the Northern Ireland coastline, young eight year old Garrett Daley is swept out to sea while riding his horse, Maggie, on a windy afternoon in September 1970. His horse returns covered in salt water but young Daley does not. After extensive searching and police investigations for nearly a year, it was presumed that he had drowned. His parents, along with his younger twin brothers, moved to Boston, USA a year after the tragedy, but never lost hope that one day they might have an answer to his disappearance. The Daley's good friends and former neighbors in Kiltee, the Finn's, have an energetic seven year old son named Caffrey. And on a Saturday afternoon in May 1974, while riding his own horse, Silk, he comes upon a young stranger down by the dunes. After further conversation, Caffrey discovers that in fact it is Garrett returned home after four years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Oct 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483437262

Book preview

clues.

CHAPTER ONE

Young Caffrey would often wander about the craggy hillside in search of a fantasy playmate. Mind you now, he was only seven, but he had the wildness of a Highland goat and the Spirit of all the Irish fairies. His sandy colored hair would gleam in any form of light as it formed around his face resembling that of a young page in a royal court. His hazel eyes were an added feature to his light skin and he was considered a very handsome boy. He was often known to tell a wee yarn or two, but in the village of Kiltee he was likeable. Son of Barry and Mairead Finn, local publicans, he was raised with the best of Irish love and attended the local public school. Being an only child did have some benefit, however their closest neighbors, the McDuee’s, have two older girls and therefore Caffrey found himself off in the wilds many a day totally in charge of his own escapade.

Finn’s pub was brewing, literally, with excitement over the recent football news. The local county team had just won a major championship and heartfelt accolades were re-sounding in the small but authentic lounge. The woodsy aroma of turf in the open fireplace produced a warm, country atmosphere. The regular villagers sat around on creaky, old wooden chairs, and a great many were two deep, standing alongside the heavy oak bar top.

Another round over here, Barry! called out auld Mick. He would be the oldest villager and had been the local Postman before he started to go a bit senile. His wavy grey hair was his pride and the blue of his eyes would still make some of the women swoon. The usual Saturday night crowd, plus a few visitors, were enjoying the eve when suddenly Mairead entered all a twitter about Caffrey gone amiss. He had not returned from his usual exploration of the bog, which is close to the family home and attached pub. Known for its rugged terrain and dark looming cliffs, it can be a treacherous place to wander if one is not familiar with the area. Wringing her hands on her well used pinafore, and with tears welling up in her tired eyes, she spoke to the crowd who all knew of her wee lad.

Caffrey has not come home this evening. I fear something awful has happened to him, has anyone seen him about? Looks of alarm and concern quieted the pub. Aggie McDuee, wife of Seamus, and owner of the only bakery, suggested that a group of the locals pull out their tractors and head off to the bog. Cars were few and the terrain was better suited for the heavy yard equipment. Within twenty minutes nearly the entire village of Kiltee, including those who could manage the walk were on the road to search for Caffrey.

A bog is actually a marsh or mire, composed by acidic peat which, in this area of the North, is managed for its production. This in turn fuels the fireplaces and cookers for the local inhabitants. The topography can be marshy and present with open areas ready for the cutting of the turf. However, this area is surrounded by the cliffs which shelter the village from the wicked winds of the Northern coastline. As the families wound their way over the rough and rocky trails, the tractors had advanced to their last approachable point. Heavy motor noise and the smell of diesel, along with the calls for Caffrey, were strange and eerie sounds as dusk was settling.

And there he was; a small figure against the enormity of the heavenly reaching cliff, waving to all as if he had just won a triathlon. Shouts of joy and tears of relief were abundant, yet Mairead and Barry were well prepared to give him the worst scolding of his young life.

Barry spoke first, Thank God you’re safe son. Don’t you know you gave us all a terrific fright?

Sorry, Da. I was just over at the Daley’s cottage and having a grand time with the sheep, I meant no worry to you or mum. Barry thanked all around and the search party headed back to the village with young Caffrey in tow under his mother’s arm.

Safely back at their home, Mairead completed her preparation of the Saturday evening meal which was always a pot roast with fresh Brussels sprouts and carrots from the garden. A handsome portion of roasted potatoes covered with herbs and natural juices were a mouthwatering treat chased down with a cup of hearty tea. But the mood was tense as Barry questioned his son about his traversing so far and rambling on about the sheep.

It was well known that Garey and Mary Daley, along with their four-year-old twins Rory and Ryan, had up and left their home many years back. The family had moved to America following a tragedy involving their eight year old son, Garrett. He was never found following a mysterious accident while riding over the sandy dunes along the coast. The story tells that his horse returned, soaked in salty water and maimed about his forelegs, after an enormous rogue wave possibly sent Garrett out to sea. Distraught with the loss and the unknown, the family yearned for answers which never came, yet hope would never leave them.

It was the story of the sheep up at the Daley’s cottage which perplexed the Finns. The former residence and the surrounding land had long been abandoned. Even the local farmers who kept their livestock around the neighboring hills had no reason to venture over to the dunes. It was most unlikely that someone had set about to raise sheep without the locals knowing about the news, as it is well known that the Irish can move a story like no others. After dinner, Barry would consult with some of the locals to ponder where the sheep had come from and how solid and believable was young Caffrey.

CHAPTER TWO

The Church bells pealed on the following morning, gathering the villagers to St. Patrick’s for Sunday Mass, after which, Barry, Caffrey and Seamus, drove over the country road bordering the coastline to Daley’s cottage. Upon arrival at the site, a young girl, accompanied by a border collie was herding the sheep back up the hillside. Hello there! Are these your sheep? asked Barry.

Aye, they got loose from our farm up the way. I’m just getting them home now. Walking spiritedly down the hill she waved a greeting. Hello, to you Mr. Finn, It’s me, Sheila Fox. All okay with you folks?

Oh. It’s you Sheila. Yes, all’s okay, right then. replied Barry, We just were wondering what they were doing about these parts. Not to worry and thank you.

Caffrey looked over to the cottage and studied the building more closely. It surely was desolate, however the roof had been recently replaced and overall it was in good repair. But when his dad and Seamus inspected the house, it appeared as if perhaps someone had recently inhabited the dwelling. Signs of cooking, ashes in the fire grate, and a pile of well-worn blankets, led the men to think of Gypsies or vagabonds, who sometimes frequented the areas. The house was truly left in abandonment by the Daleys, but overseen by Barry as needs arose, even though they still held title to the property. As Seamus glanced around the kitchen area he spoke with a definite air, I’d say that the Gypsies were here and made themselves a resting camp. No great harm done.

Barry came out from one of the back rooms and holding up an old canteen he stated, I would agree with you, Seamus, but let’s try to secure the doors and keep the place free from any future mishap.

With a few adjustments to the windows and doors completed, they headed for home. Caffrey gazed out the car window at the frolicking sheep bounding up the hillside, with young Sheila Fox and her collie keeping them in fair order.

Mairead was still up at the church mingling with the parishioners when Barry and Caffrey returned. Seamus bid good day with a wave, buttoned up his jacket and walked back toward the village as the sound of gravel crunched under his newly soled boots. After lunch, Caffrey finished cleaning out the byre, the chicken coop, and feeding the horses. The Finn’s had two roan mares; Maggie had belonged to the Daleys, and the younger three-year-old was Silk, Caffrey’s love.

He had a great bond with Silk and every Sunday, as today, they would head off for a ride to connect and enjoy the camaraderie. His favorite run was down to the dunes, where the sand was firm and the air was misted with the scent of the salty sea. A feeling of flight and freedom overtook the duo as they raced along the shoreline, slowing the pace only to round the cliff-lined turns as they jutted out from their gigantic heights and seemed to reach to the sky with granite fingers.

Something or someone caught his eye as he neared the next turn. What was a blur suddenly took shape as a young man, dressed in rags and oversized boots. He doffed a tweed threadbare cap atop black curly hair and presented with a handsome face. Caffrey was astounded at the sight; not so much at the lack of wardrobe, but that he bore a strong resemblance to Garrett Daley, long presumed dead since the accident four years earlier. Caffrey had seen the newspaper clippings in the pub and also a family photo in their sitting room, so he was well aware of the story.

Nervously, he spoke. Hello there, I am Caffrey Finn, over in Kiltee. You look a bit familiar. Still seated up on Silk, Caffrey ran his thin hand through his sandy hair and waited for a response from the smiling but motionless stranger. What is your name? Are you from round these parts?

The young stranger spoke these words, while gazing out to the sea. I seem to know this place, yet I can’t remember my name or what brought me here. He worked his tanned, strong fingers round his cap and shifted his weight from one soggy boot to the other.

Caffrey slid his off his horse, and while holding fast to the reins as he led Silk, approached the lad. You look like Garrett Daley, who was never found after an accident right here on this very beach, a few years back. Of course, I was only about three, but I remember. There are pictures of you and your family in our house. You came up to our pub to help me da with the cleaning up. And you would sing the best of Irish ballads in Gaelic, all the time. Do you not know these things? Surely, you must know who you are?

The mood became somber as the curly headed traveler fidgeted, and clearly was uncomfortable. I seem to have a loss of memory, but I do know this beach, and I have found an empty cottage which has given me shelter these past few nights. Oddly, it also bears a feeling of familiarity, yet I can’t just recall why. Och! It’s very strange. I can’t quite sort things out.

Caffrey suggested that he come up to their house for supper, but Garrett became even more fidgety, and said, Maybe at another time. Will you come see me here tomorrow? And as suddenly as he appeared he was scrambling up the trail leading to the Daley cottage.

Stunned by his urgent need to run off, Caffrey was a little disappointed. He had hoped to bring Garrett to his home. But in his wee mind, he knew that he would come back to meet him, and he would bring him some food and try to get him to feel safe in his company.

Well Silk. He’s gone again. But this time I know where he will be. Let’s get home and we will keep this to ourselves, right? Silk whinnied and bowed her head as if acknowledging. Caffrey mounted up and the two raced home skirting the bog to the village. He stopped at the bakery where Aggie was just closing up the shop. Jumping off Silk, and with a friendly wave he said, Hello there, Mrs. McDuee, could I have four sausage rolls please.

Placing her hands on her well-formed hips, she asked, Why Caffrey, surely your mum can manage her own rolls. What’s the occasion?

Oh, I just wanted to surprise her. Nothing special you know and don’t let on, okay?

Right then, hold on to your mare and I’ll wrap up the order. Returning with a brown paper bag which was very aromatic, Aggie smiled and said, You can settle up tomorrow, Caffrey. I’ve just done my banking.

Caffrey took his parcel. Thanks again, Mrs. McDuee. He tucked it under his windbreaker and back up on his mount, he cantered off to his home. Once safely into the stable, he groomed Silk for the eve and gave a special hug to the other mare, Maggie. He then gingerly tip toed into the kitchen, with the hope that his mum was not about. Finding the room vacant he raced up the stairs to his room and was just taking off his coat when Mairead entered.

Oh, Hello Mum.

Hello yourself, why the big rush? Are you late for something?

No, no just feeling very fit. The sea air gives me bundles of energy. You need to get out there more yourself, Mum. Why don’t’ you ride Maggie? I know da won’t ride her, but sure she’s a gentle horse.

Maybe we can ride out next weekend, but right now I need to collect the clothes for the wash. Lets’ have a look in your hamper.

Caffrey sighed relief as his mum carted off the items in a basket. He then placed his baked goods into a dresser drawer, and plopped down onto one of his twin beds. He was really exhausted from the excitement of the day, but the chance to have a new friend just had him all aglow.

CHAPTER THREE

The next day after school, Caffrey saddled up Silk, and having put the parcel in the barn during his morning chores, he was able to access it easily for the adventure ahead. After telling his mum that he would be off to the dunes for a ride, he rode back down to the meeting place. Although he usually did not go there on weekdays, he had a special mission to complete. The sun was shining over the sea and the waves gently caressing the sand as Caffrey and Silk entered the cove of the bay. He strained his eyes as he searched for his newfound pal. Nothing but cliffs and boulders of rock covered the beach. An occasional seagull and puffin screeched over the sound of the surf lapping on the shore. Speaking to his horse he said, Maybe he could not come. What has kept him from not showing up? Dismounting, he walked over to the trail that led up to the top of the cliffs, as it was definitely too steep and narrow for Silk.

Stay here Silk, I’ll just take a quick look for him. So he proceeded to start the hike up when Garrett appeared.

Well, there you are! All okay with you?

Garrett clambered down the trail still donning his cap and oversized boots. Hello there, Caffrey was it? I am glad you came. I think I can tell you more details as I am beginning to recall things, such as places and people that may be important. That would be helpful, right?

Ah, sure, any wee thing at all. Let’s sit down over here and I brought you some sausage rolls. They found a large flat rock and while Silk frolicked in the surf, the two conversed. It became apparent to Caffrey that Garrett truly was beginning to remember little snips of where he was, but to no great epiphany.

What did you need to do last evening? asked Caffrey, while he looked into the dark blue eyes of his new pal. Did you remember something about where you were?

I did go back to that cottage and I felt as though I had been there before. I built a fire and tried really hard to put some thoughts together.

Garrett took off his cap and rolled it in his hands, and as he stretched his back he shared his bits of the journey as he knew it. He talked about an island and boats and a foreign language, along with the mention of a large estate. It was true that he had no recall of the accident, as he never mentioned it, but perhaps he could discern how he arrived back to his family’s cottage. There were still many unanswered questions.

He spoke quietly. I do recall being on a big boat and it was smelly, like fish. Yes that would make sense; a large fishing trawler. The engine noise was horrific and many men were rushing about. I remember big nets and wheels like pulleys, and down below, bunk beds off a narrow passageway. The boat was always in a rocking motion and I got sick often. An older gruff man, with a long scraggly red beard and missing teeth, kept an eye on me in the beginning; then I found myself wandering about the decks trying to get fresh air. It seemed like I also saw a tanned Swedish man often, but not too sure. Food was served up in a large stinky room and that made me become even sicker. There were no girls or grown women on this boat and I felt very alone and scared. But why would they not have tried to tell others about finding me? Of course, I was unable to recall my name, and I’m still not clear on it or where I came from. I cannot recall my family, as I’m sure I have one, right?

Caffrey chewed up the last of his roll, and as he looked into the eyes of his companion he became a little teary at the thought of what he must have endured, and the loneliness he must have incurred during such an ordeal.

Yes, Garrett, you are a Daley. Your mum is Mary and your dad is Garey, and you have twin brothers Rory and Ryan. They’d be about eight or so now. They moved to Boston, a long while after the accident. Sure, they were all full of sadness when you never turned up from the storm. You were out riding right down here when a rogue wave came upon the beach. Your horse, Maggie, came back all covered in salty water and her legs all cut up from the rocks. But you were not about and for over a year everyone was on the look for you. Me da will know more about the details, so would you like to come up to our house? You can stay with us and we can try to sort out where you’ve been.

Garrett was also near tears himself. He wiped his face and donned his cap, and as he stood and gazed at the sea, Silk came over to him as if to say hello. Patting her velvet smooth neck he replied, Ah, it will be good to have the company. So, is that cottage my home?

It is indeed. Your folks still own all the property, but they sold up all the livestock, including your horse, Maggie. I keep her now and you will get to ride her again, when you are ready of course

Right, and thank you Caffrey for the food.

CHAPTER FOUR

They mounted Silk and rode along the sandy trails leading up to the Meadows, which came into view, dotted with grazing cattle and an occasional goat or two. The village of Kiltee was always a welcoming sight, with its many white-washed cottages, colorful doors and local shops. St. Patrick’s steeple, glistening in the afternoon sunshine, marked the center of the locale. Garrett pulled on Caffrey’s arm to slow him down.

Mind if we just look around here a bit? I’d like to see if anything is familiar.

Caffrey pulled up on Silk and the pace came to a standstill. As he pointed out the local church and a few shops, Garrett nodded lightly in response. The scenery might have jarred his memory somewhat, but time would tell him, if not today.

The pair arrived at the Finn’s yard and headed Silk in to the stables. Garrett went up to the other mare, his own horse Maggie, and while he stroked her blaze and gazed into her deep brown eyes, it appeared as if he was lost in the moment. Maggie placed her head firmly into his chest, with a nod and a whinny. Just for a short moment, Garrett showed a look of strong recognition as he held Maggie’s mane. He gave her a subtle wink and rejoined Caffrey.

Dusting the sand of their boots, the two lads entered through the back door to the warm and inviting kitchen. A sparkling rose-colored tile floor was centered with a large butcher block table, flanked with eight matching straight-backed oak chairs. The large Aga was in full use as large pots warmed atop the cooker. Mairead was washing out a few dishes when Caffrey burst into the kitchen.

Mum, I have a surprise!

She turned and dropped a plate from her hand, shattering it to smithereens. With great exclamation and shock she stated, Oh my Lord! It can’t be so! Garrett? Garrett Daley? You’re alive and well! God bless us all! Come, come and sit down while I compose myself.

Caffrey promptly went to the hall closet and commenced to sweep up the fragments of the plate.

Mairead smoothed back her long and wavy, dark auburn hair, complementing her, and now moist, green eyes. She pulled out a chair and with elbows on the table and her hands folded as in prayer, gazed intently at Garrett. She looked at her son, Caffrey, who was now seated in a well-used rocking chair, and raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if looking for a sign from Heaven. Garrett was again working his cap in a circular motion and was really fixated on this habit as he sat across from Mairead at the kitchen table.

I found him down at the dunes, Mum. He does not know who he is or how he came to be there. He said he was up at the cottage for the past few nights, and he has feelings as if he has been here before. In the stable I think he recognized Maggie, and I got the notion that Maggie knew him as well.

I would say son, that Garrett here has possibly incurred a loss of memory, to be sure. Sighing, as in pure wonderment she went to the stovetop. "Well, I’ll make us a cup of tea and fix some tomato sandwiches. Garrett, will you have some food? Surely, you’re famished!’

Caffrey quickly voiced while winking at Garrett, Oh yes, Mum we are both famished, all that sea air you know.

Mairead continued, And you’ll stay with us till we get things sorted out. I’ll speak to Father Sean; perhaps he can give us some guidance, and Caffrey, go get your dad.

Mairead fussed about and it was quite clear where young Caffrey obtained his energy as she moved her petite frame effortlessly, and yet all the while glancing at Garrett. He was such a handsome young man who always had the young girls after him, but he was more about his preparatory studies and his singing. He was always very bright and had an incredible hunger for books and as is noted by his eloquence, even if sporadic and somewhat vague, he had studied diligently. Also, he did have a fondness for horses and this has become evident.

Garrett looked over to Mairead as Caffrey left by the side door. Will you know about my family? Caffrey mentioned them down on the beach. And how do you both seem to know me?

Yes, you have a father, mother and twin brothers. Hold on, I’ve a photo nearby. Mairead rushed into the sitting room and produced the family picture and while setting this in front of Garrett, she explained. Here you are holding hands with the twins, Rory here and Ryan on the left, and your mum, Mary with the great smile and your dad, Garey. They moved to America about a year after the accident, Boston actually, and needless to say they were very distraught, as were we all.

Garrett looked intently at the photo with little recognition as he traced the outlines of his family.

Can you go back to that time on the beach? I know it’s far away in your head, but just any wee thing to help us sort out what actually happened and where you’ve been all this time.

Just then, Barry entered the kitchen, reading glasses atop his short-cropped ginger hair. A ruddy face with dark hazel colored eyes, and a warming smile complemented his athletic build. Are you all right, son? Lord knows this is a bit of a shock.

Caffrey had filled him in with his rendition and following his dad he wiggled himself back onto the rocker.

Barry sat himself next to Garrett, and after giving him a strong hug and a firm handshake poured a cup of tea for all while he picked up a sandwich. He could not believe his eyes as he looked at this familiar figure, albeit, a might older.

Young Caffrey came over to the table and placed his thin arm upon Garrett’s shoulder. It’ll all work out, Gar. I’ll help you. It was a moving gesture which brought a tear to Mairead.

Barry commented, Well, surely, even now, there will be some sensible reasoning or plausible facts surrounding your disappearance. Although after extensive searching following the accident and thorough investigative proceedings, the police reports and newspapers concluded ‘Possible drowning at sea. Body not recovered’.

Pausing for just a moment he added, "Mairead, we will have to contact Garey and Mary over in Boston. They would be your mum and dad, Garrett, and we’ll ring Fr. Sean. And will you be okay talking to the Father? He’s known you since you were a wee lad and maybe some things will come into focus, but at the same time, we don’t want too much overwhelming you at once, ‘tis a jolt to