The Ghost of Inisbofin

Cold sea spray lashed our faces as we stood on the deck of the ferry heading for Inisbofin. It was not our first visit to the place, but it was our first time visiting there in wintertime. The reason we had decided to go was because Mum who wrote poetry had recently received an award of five hundred pounds for her work, and had been asked to submit three new poems for an anthology of new poetry shortly to be published.

Since we were on a school break Mum decided she wanted to head for Bofin. She said it was a magic place, a great place to write. Dad couldn't come until Saturday because of work. So here we were, Mum, Jamie and myself heading out across the grey marbled waters towards the island.

As we moved out from the sheltered harbour the sea became very choppy. Jamie and I enjoyed trying to stand still while we were being jerked up and down. There were very few on the ferry. Mum sat huddled on deck, and then fell into conversation with a German tourist. Ghostly white gannets were fishing up ahead, hovering for a time then dive-bombing the water for fish.

Look! I pointed at the spot where the gannet had broken the skin of the water, soon to re-emerge shaking the water from his wings. He ascended into the air to try a different place.  A fulmar circled on stiff wings above our heads.

Jamie fell on the deck. Mum called: "that's enough, you two. Sit down."

"I'm not hurt," he smiled, but his sleeve was very wet.

As we neared the harbour, Mum called out: "That's High Island!" We looked in the distance to our left. "The poet Richard Murphy used to own it." The German tourist looked impressed. Mum introduced us then to Hans Burger. He was a travel writer, and he had a fondness for Ireland; he had visited most of islands around Ireland, he told us proudly.

As we got closer to shore a strange chill went up my back. I looked over at the Cromwellian star fort and thought I saw a small boy stand at the water's edge.

"Look!" I pointed

"What?" said Jamie.

"Look!" I repeated.

"Oh I see," said Mum. "It's a seal, can you see?" She pointed. The German cleaned the spray from his glasses.

"Yes, I see it," said Jamie excitedly.

I looked at the seal, then returned my gaze to the top of the fort where I had seen the boy. There was no sign of him. I didn't say anything but looked over my shoulder at the fort as it moved away from us.

"Come on, young fella," said a crew hand as he helped Jamie on to the shore. A bitter wind blew in from the sea.

"At least it's dry," said Mum to Hans. He smiled. "Well, lovely chatting with you. No doubt we'll bump into each other over the next couple of days."

"I would enjoy that," Hans replied, shaking Mum's hand, and then mine and Jamie's.

We got a lift to the east side of the island where we had rented the same cottage we have for our summer holidays. After lunch Jamie and I headed out to explore the beach. "Keep an eye on your brother," Mum called after me.

"I don't need anyone minding me," Jamie grumbled at me. There was no one around the east pier, only us. We felt like we owned the island. We played frisbee by the beach, then I did a few handstands since I'd recently started gymnastics classes. Jamie was impressed. He tried to copy my, but tumbled over. I held his legs to give him balance, but he fell over. Then I took his legs and he proceeded to walk on his hands.

After a time we headed towards the harbour. Jamie stopped to pet a donkey. I pulled some grass and offered it to the donkey. It willingly accepted it. Jamie pulled some grass and did the same.

"How can animals eat grass?! It tastes horrible."

"Not to them," I replied. "It would be like us eating cabbage."

"I hate cabbage," he replied. We both laughed. "What's your favourite food in the whole wide world," he asked.

"Mmmm that's a hard one," I replied. "Let me think."

"Mine's chicken nuggets and chips," he added.

"Well, I love pasta ..."

"Me too," he said, "but I don't like all that red sauce."

As we passed the cemetery Jamie pushed at the gate. "Let's go in."

"No," I replied. "We're heading to the harbour."

"Please," he begged. "Remember the last time we were here, we saw loads of rabbits."

"Okay."

"Look, I can see the lake," said Jamie. A grey heron flew over. "Wow, that's a giant bird," Jamie exclaimed. "Can you eat them?" he asked.

"I suppose one could, if you were starving, but I wouldn't like to hurt such a lovely bird."

"Me neither," he said.

"Hello again," said a voice.

"Oh, you startled me," I replied.

"Please forgive me. I was just looking at the old headstones. Some are most interesting. I like to photograph the unusual ones." Jamie picked up a small round white stone from a grave. "That's a bit of quartz," Hans said. Jamie looked at it.

"It's heavy, like a big egg."

"Put it back, Jamie. Show some respect." Jamie pulled a face.

Hans smiled. "You know, young man, the reason people used to put those circular quartz stones on the graves was for luck."

"Really?!"

"Yes, indeed. People in the past believed that quartz stones could in some way communicate with the spirit world."

"How do you know?" Jamie asked.

"Jamie!"

"No, it's a good question. I'm what one would call a folklorist. I collect stories from around the world and put them in a book form for our university in Berlin."

"Sounds like a great job!"

It is, I get to travel quite a bit. Well I must be going, it looks like the weather is changing. Perhaps we will meet soon again. Please say hello to your mother for me."

A light rain began to fall as we headed back to the cottage.

That evening we went to the bedroom I shared with Jamie. I got the top bunk, stretched out and began to read for a while.

"Eimear," Jamie called softly to me.

"Quiet," I snapped. "I'm trying to read."

A few seconds later he called again. "Eimear."

"What!"

"I've something to show you."

"Show it to me in the morning."

"Eimear!"

"What!"

"Do you think that German fellow Hans was telling the truth?"

"About what?"

"About the white stones protecting the grave from evil spirits!"

"He was just telling what people in the olden days believed. That's all! People believed in all kinds of things in those days."

"Eimear?"

"What now!"

"Look!"

I hung down from my bed to see Jamie smirking and holding the white quartz stone in his hand. "Oh you bold boy! I told you to put it back."

"There were lots more there!"

"That's not the point, you took it from a grave of some little boy. You're going to bring it back first thing in the morning. Now go to sleep."

I read on for a while, and soon I could hear Jamie gently snoring. After a time Mum headed for bed. She popped her head in the doorway. "Still reading?" I nodded. "Better turn off that light. Your father will be here around lunch hour tomorrow."

"Did you do any writing?"

"A little, I'm a bit tired after the long drive. Good night, sleep tight." 

During the night I awoke with a terrible thirst. My throat felt dry, I climbed quickly down the ladder and headed for the kitchen. On my return to the bedroom I could see a bright light, it was like moonlight coming from the room. As I entered the room I couldn't believe my eyes! Standing there was the ghostly form of a young boy. He seemed to be dripping wet, and he was looking at Jamie. But when I appeared, he slowly turned and looked at me. I couldn't control myself. I just shrieked, dropping the glass of water. The ghostly form vanished.

Within seconds my mum was there with her arms on my shoulders, having switched on the light. "In the name of god what's going on? You nearly gave me heart failure." Jamie sat up rubbing his eyes. I couldn't talk just stood there trembling. "Go back to sleep, Jamie." She turned off the light and ushered me into the sitting room. "What is it, Eimear? Did you have a nightmare? You're freezing." She grabbed the duvet from her bedroom and wrapped it around me. "I'll make us a cup of tea. I couldn't sleep either."

I told her all that had happened. She reassured me, saying it was only a nightmare. Then a hand touched my mother's shoulder. She gave out a loud yell. "I can't sleep," said Jamie, "and I'm hungry."

When mum was clearing the glass up from the floor she discovered a wet spot on the floor far from where the water had spilled.

The following morning was dry but cold. After breakfast mum Jamie and I headed out for a walk. We headed towards the star fort but as we got near I felt a chill running down my back.

"Are you all right?" Mum enquired.

"Oh yes, fine …"

Jamie pulled at my sleeve. I turned and he held out the stone. It made me nervous just to look at it. Mum had walked on ahead. "Listen, Jamie, we'll return that stone later to the cemetery."

"Okay," he smiled. Then he pointed. "Look, there's someone standing on the wall."

I looked and could see Mum hurrying towards the old ruin. Then I could clearly see a young boy on top of the battlement. "Mum," I called loudly.

She turned. "Come on, you two. We don't want to get caught by the tide."

"Mum, I don't want to go any further."

She walked back. "Why?"

"I've seen it again."

"What?"

"The boy."

"Where?" Mum asked. There was a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"On the wall, just ahead!"

She looked. "Well, I cannot see anything. Can you, Jamie?"

"Not now, he's gone!"

"Okay, you two we're not going to spend the next few days carrying on like this. You've been on this island several times. We know most of the people, and the places. There's nothing to be afraid of. So let's have no more sillyness. Where's that stone?" Jamie produced it. "Here, give it to me." Mum took the stone and threw it into the water.

"No, Mum," we both yelled.

"That's the end of that nonsense. You can pick up stones like that on the far beach, anytime, let's go. I could do with a coffee."

In the evening, after we met Dad from the ferry, Jamie told him all about the stone and what the German man had said about it.

"Never heard that one before," he smiled.

When the time came to go to bed, I felt a little relieved that the stone was gone.

"Do you think that ghost will come back?" asked Jamie nervously.

"No, Jamie, listen it was probably just a dream, like mum said. I'm sorry I shouldn't have told you about it."

"But we saw it today, and we were both wide awake."

"I don't know what we saw today. It could have been one of the local boys or a visitor."

"How come it was there once minute then gone the next?"

"Jamie, let's go to sleep and think of something happy or funny. Goodnight." 

During the night we were awakened by a loud scream. It was Mum. We raced from our beds to see was she all right.

"My god, James, I saw it just standing there by the doorway. A boy like Jamie, only in old style clothes."

"It may be a trick of the light. There is a full moon." My father tried to reassure her.

"I know what I saw. He was standing in the frame of the front door, and it was open."

Dad walked outside and looked around. "Nothing!" He grumbled. Then he saw a man standing some distance away. He came back in laughing. "Panic over. Riddle solved. A man is out for a stroll in the moonlight."

Mum threw on her dressing gown and went outside. She returned in a few minutes with the German. Dad looked very surprised. Mum introduced Hans to Dad, then said quietly, "Hans has something to tell us."

He looked a little embarrassed. Then he spoke very gently. "I saw the ghost of a young boy in my rented cottage last evening, and tonight I saw it again. I followed it here."

"Oh for pete's sake," said Dad. "That's just great. You've all seen ghosts now. I suppose it's my turn next."

"I can't explain it," said Hans.

"Well, I think you can, for it was you who planted the idea in the kids' heads in the first place. By telling them about magic stones and evil spirits."

"Please, James, let's just all calm down and have a cup of tea. There must be some logical explanation to all this."

"It's because Jamie took the stone from the boy's grave," I said.

"I'm not a superstitious person," said Hans, "but I think we should return the stone to the cemetery."

"We can't," wailed Jamie. "Mum threw it in the sea."

"Oh that's just swell," sighed Dad. "I came down here for a relaxing few days, and you came to write. The weekend is turning into an episode of the twilight zone. You two go back to bed. Nothing is going to happen to you," Dad said reassuringly as Mum poured the tea.

We climbed back to bed early and next morning I awoke to the sound of voices. Peeping out I saw Mum, Dad, and Hans still sitting around the table talking. They must have stayed awake all night.

Good morning, darling, said Mum. "I hope you slept well."

"Yes."

"Well, as you can see, we never managed to get to sleep." I could see a wine bottle beside the tea pot.

"Jamie still sleeping soundly?" asked Dad. I turned to look at the lower bunk but he wasn't there. "He must be up already."

"What?" said Mum, alarmed. "He never came out of that room, we were sitting here all night." Mum brushed past me and called out, "Jamie, Jamie! Oh, my god, he's gone." We all hurried out of the cottage calling his name.

"Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. Where are you?"

"Look," said Hans, pointing up the road. We could see the silhouette of Jamie, standing stock still.

Mum raced up to him, threw her arms around him and covered him with kisses. "You're freezing, poor pet."

He seemed in a trance like state, sucking his thumb. I hadn't seen him do that since he was four.

We returned immediately to the cottage and Mum covered him with a blanket.

"Have something to eat," said Dad, offering him some bread.

"I saw him," said Jamie quietly, staring ahead. "His name is Fiachra, he's the same age as me, eight. He was killed by the soldiers of Cromwell, and all his family too. He won't rest until they are re-united."

We looked at each other. "Go on, son," said Dad.

"His father was taken and drowned slowly by the soldiers. He wants his father's bones to be buried with theirs. Then he will be content."

"Did he say where his father was buried?" Hans asked.

"Mum knows," said Jamie, coming out his trance like state. He began to eat some bread. "Can you pass the jam, please?" I passed the jam to him.

"Me?" said mum, in complete surprise. "How could I possibly know where he was buried?"

"Where you threw in the white stone, in the water, remember?"

Well, Dad got in touch with some divers, and sure enough they found a skeleton. bound in chains, near where mum had thrown the stone.

A few days later there was as special service for the drowned fenian. The islanders all turned up. It was a beautiful service. The father was reunited with his family. We prayed that young Fiachra would now rest in peace after all the years. Mum hugged Jamie and he turned to her. In her hand was the white stone that he had taken. She smiled, place it back on Fiachra's grave.

"How did you get it?" I asked.

"I asked the divers to be sure and retrieve it."

"Now, let's hope the next day or two will be a little quieter," Dad smiled.

Hans asked if we could all join him for dinner with the compliments of the Berlin university.

"Can we have pasta?" Jamie asked.

Mum, Dad and Hans laughed loudly.

Jamie looked at me. "What's so funny about that?"

The End.

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