indeedy.
Was Grampa skinny then too?
Skinny as a stick.
And funny like now?
Funny and kind like now.
What year was it when you met him?
A long time ago, Danno.
How old are you, Gram?
Old enough not to tell my impertinent grandson.
Why don’t women say their ages?
Because people make assumptions.
How old is Grampa?
Older than dirt.
How old is Cedar?
No one knows. Not even Cedar.
Really?
He doesn’t know what year he was born, love. Or where. Sometimes I think he is one of what your dad calls the ancient ones.
Daoine sidhe , the fairies.
He doesn’t say fairies, does he?
Daoine maithe , the good people, he says. That’s respectful.
You’re getting good with the Gaelic.
Dad’s teaching me a little. It’s cool.
The good people are always found near water, right? Like Cedar.
Cedar’s small and fast, too, like them.
He is that.
Wasn’t he ever married?
Not that I know of.
Was he married before you met him?
I don’t know, love. I don’t think so.
Didn’t you ever ask about when he was a boy?
He doesn’t remember, Daniel. He was nearly dead when your grampa pulled him out of the river, and being in the water that long can hurt your brain.
It didn’t hurt his, did it?
No. It did drown his memory, though.
I think he’s really smart.
He’s a great man in many ways.
If Grampa died would you marry Cedar?
Your grandfather is too fascinated with this world to leave it. Trust me.
But if he did die would you marry Cedar?
I see you want Chapter Six for homework also?
Daniel grins and pedals off like a rocket and Maple Head floats along through the fallen leaves smiling, her eyes flashing with fish.
18.
Owen at work on the beaver grins remembering the afternoon he gave No Horses her first lesson in the Irish language. They met on the windy beach again and walked hand in hand down to the cave at the south end and sat there facing each other in the brilliant sand.
Okay then, he says.
Okay then, she says, smiling.
We’ll start simple.
We’ll start simple.
They grin.
I’ll give you the Irish and you repeat it.
Okay.
That way it will slip into you gently.
Okay.
Like music does.
Okay.
Not like school.
Enough already. Let’s start.
Okay then.
Okay.
Ta an thathnona go brea.
Ta an thathnona go brea.
That means good afternoon.
Ta an thathnona go brea.
Good. Now: conas ta tu ?
Conas ta tu.
Good. That means how are you?
Conas ta tu?
Good. Now cen t-ainm ata ort ?
Cen t-ainm ata ort ?
Excellent. That means what is your name?
Cen t-ainm ata ort ?
What actually is your name?
Cen t-ainm ata ort ?
No no, I mean what is your name really?
Sometime I’ll tell you.
Now is a good time.
Some other time.
He thinks: who is this woman?
Okay then, he says.
Okay.
We’ll start simple.
Okay.
I’ll give you the Irish and you repeat it.
No.
No?
No. This time you just say it and I will listen. I like the music of it. I like watching your mouth form the words. You have a good voice. I won’t understand a word of it but it’ll slip into me gently. Like music.
What should I say?
Say anything you want. I won’t know.
Okay then.
Don’t be rude.
No no. Well, ta gruaig dhubh ag an mbeirt againn .
What did that mean?
We both have black hair.
That sounds sweet. Okay. I’ll stop asking what it means. You just talk now.
Okay. Is capall fain I an fharraige inniu [The sea is a wild horse today]. Creatur fiain, alainn is ea tusa freisin [You are a wild lovely creature also]. Bhi blas salainn ort nuair a phogamar a cheile inne [You tasted like salt when we kissed yesterday]. Ba mhaith liom pog a thabhairt duit aris inniu [I would like to kiss you again today]. Chun an fhirinne a ra, ba mhaith liom do do phogadh an oiche go leir [I would like to kiss you all night long in fact]. Ba mhaith liom do chiocha teanna a phogadh freisin [I would like to kiss your firm breasts also]. Ba mhaith liom do dhidi a phogadh go dti go seasfaidh said suas cosuil le saighdiurini [I would like