It is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? Would you like to know how I came by it? It’s a strange tale.
I was down at the Causeway on the North Antrim coast. Did you know that it’s a steep walk down? Well it is. And when I got there my knees were sore from holding back on the slope. It’s a terrific place if you ever get the chance to go. The rock formations are… well, you’ll have seen photographs, I’m sure. Anyway it seemed at first I had the place all to myself, and it being late in the day I decided to sit on one of the columns and fill a pipe with tobacco. I looked around for a seat without a dimple of sea water in it. I didn’t notice I had company until he spoke.
“It’s been a quare oul’ day.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that but out of politeness I agreed.
“The Sun’s goin’ down now, so it is.”
I couldn’t argue with that either. He was dressed peculiarly. His green waistcoat had a bright gold chain across it and the Ulster Tartan jacket clashed horribly with his blue trousers. I said I was sorry to have disturbed him and I tried to move away.
“Not at all, not a bit of it. Would you like a wee nip?”
He produced a flask and by the colour I thought there was whiskey in it. I was reluctant.
“Augh, go on,” he urged. “Sure, just wipe it first.”
If this was the legendary hospitality of the Irish, I could’ve done with it a bit more refined. The flask was remarkably heavy for its size and I could see now that it was not transparent as I’d first expected but really golden. I put it to my lips and recognized the local beverage at once.
“It’s the ten year malt,” he confirmed, “Bushmills’ water.”
I handed the flask back and he took a mouthful and replaced the stopper.
“Do you like our wee Causeway?” he asked. ”I knew the architect.”
I said I thought it was breathtaking, which was the plain truth. As to the architect… a lot of the Irish claim to be on intimate terms with the Creator and I got ready to flee a sermon.
“Aye, Finn–McCool. Now there was a giant of a man and clever too. A bit bad tempered but we got on okay. Sure wouldn’t he have looked a gipe picking a fight with somebody my size…?” He laughed so heartily his belly wobbled. ”He beat oul’ Fingal though, out-witted him–as if anyone would take thon for a baby! Then one day he just lay down on the mountain across from Warren Point and he’s still there to this day. You should go and take a look.”
It was only as he was speaking that I noticed, for he had been sitting down, that he was particularly short. Not more that four feet five, I thought. He was clearly retarded. Why did the local nutter always head straight for me? A bit annoyed that I’d been cornered like this I made my excuses to leave.
“Sure, I’ll walk up with you. You’ll be parked at the top.”
As fast as I walked he kept up, blathering on about Finn and Fingal and King Brian and how his people had been sidelined and trivialized by the modern media, mocked by Hollywood. I was puffing and blowing–he didn’t even get out of breath.
Imagine my relief when near the top, I saw two men in white coats approaching from the car park.
“Have you seen anybody down there?” they asked.
Looking round I saw I was alone. ”I was just with somebody,” I said. ”Little chap,” I indicated the height, “blue trousers, green waistcoat and brownish jacket. You must have seen him.”
“Didn’t see another soul,” said one of them, sniffing my breath. ”Maybe you shouldn’t drive, you know. There’s a bus every half an hour.”
They left me bewildered. There was no sign of my companion anywhere. But as I returned to my car, I felt something weighting down my pocket. It was this flask.
Oonah V Joslin taught students with special needs for almost thirty years. Then she decided she had needs too and left. She writes to fulfill some of those needs.
Did you like this story?
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.- Share on Facebook
Rate this story
25 Responses to “A WEE DRAP OF HOSPITALITY • by Oonah V Joslin”
Comments
« GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS • by Patrick Parr | Home | THE LUCKIEST MAN IN THE WORLD • by Robert Swartwood »
March 16th, 2008 at 12:22 am
Fantastic Oonah. I could almost hear the Irish lilt. A great magical story to read on an early Sunday morn to be sure.
Jennifer
March 16th, 2008 at 3:03 am
Nicely done, Oonah. Another great story!
John
March 16th, 2008 at 3:13 am
Bushmills! First thing on a Sunday morning as well. You temptress, Oonah!
Great flash to set me up for the day.
March 16th, 2008 at 3:31 am
Excellent stuff, Oonah, hits the spot!
Sarah
March 16th, 2008 at 3:41 am
Cheers all of you. I’m hopin’ the Bushmills folk will want to reward me for my shameless advertising of their product
Was that a pig flying by? Maybe I’ve had enough! 
March 16th, 2008 at 5:00 am
Lovely gentle, funny tale Oonah, great flow to it.
March 16th, 2008 at 5:37 am
Lovely story, Oonah, and it sent my heart skipping.
March 16th, 2008 at 6:49 am
Thank you Pete.
Aw that’s nice Walt
March 16th, 2008 at 7:19 am
Oonah,
Nice green tale.
Cheers
Mark
March 16th, 2008 at 7:22 am
Good man yersel’, Mark
March 16th, 2008 at 9:24 am
A whiff of the briny, and a drop of the hard stuff. Nice one!
March 16th, 2008 at 9:34 am
Go raibh maith agat! And I’ll take a nip if ya don mind.
March 16th, 2008 at 10:16 am
Jolly good
March 16th, 2008 at 12:12 pm
Oh, Oonah, you know how to bring out the Irish in me.
Great story. I want to see those rock formation photos…
March 16th, 2008 at 12:41 pm
Go to the Causeway, Avis. You have never seen the like of the North Antrim coast. Have a look at tyhe world’s oldest lisenced distillery while you’re at it and taste the only malt in Ireland.
Eough advertising, or are you going to start charging?
March 16th, 2008 at 12:43 pm
I don’t know any Gallic, Gay. I am an Ulster Scot.
March 16th, 2008 at 12:44 pm
Thanks Rena and Kevin. Book ther holiday and see them for real
March 16th, 2008 at 3:23 pm
B’Gosh what a tale!
March 17th, 2008 at 2:22 am
Do you mean you don’t believe it DJ?
March 17th, 2008 at 4:15 am
A grand tale, Oonah! and a happy St. Paddy’s day to you too.
March 17th, 2008 at 8:17 am
Thank you Ellie
Glad you enjoyed it.
March 23rd, 2008 at 1:53 pm
Isn’t it time for someone to put the noble tales of Finn McCool and Brian Boru and his brothers into modern terms?
I’m thinking you’re the woman for the job!
Thanks for a lovely and picturesque experience.
May 17th, 2008 at 9:19 am
Patricia, I’ll bear that suggestion in mind
Thank you.
August 12th, 2009 at 5:36 am
I realise this is an old story, but I never knew my Aunt was so talented. Aunt Oonah, this is a great story. I’m coming to Ballymena for a holiday. First time since we left, and I’m going to make sure I see the Causeway.
Daddy gave me this site name and told me to go here. I’m not sorry he did, Love Eleanor
August 12th, 2009 at 8:45 am
Oh Eleanor, thank you darling X It’s been a long, long time! I don’t suppose you’ll make it to Northumberland? You’d be most welcome – only a short flight… How great to hear from you. You can catch up on me at http://www.oonahs.blogspot.com – oonahverse as I call it or write at Oovj@aol.com. I’d love to hear from you. What a lovely surprise