Summer Rain

Chapter 2: Summer Sunshine

1/26/1208

I apologize for not writing in this journal sooner. The King had some unexpected visitors come to the castle and celebrations soon followed. My children always enjoy the festivities, just like their mother. They enjoy the music the most they tell me, and can almost always be found at either the bard's or bands' feet. The music is of course different than what we had playing at home during our parties back home in Ireland. At our parties we had our drinking songs, my favorites were always Drunken Sailor and Spanish Lady, and a mix of more modern music, such as Mean by Taylor Swift, I know her name means nothing to those here, but she was, or will be, a famous singer in the future. I used to sing at these summer parties of mine, I was never a professional singer but my friends said I had a pleasant singing voice. There is one particular party that I recall, and looking back on it now it was that night that started everything in motion for my new future.

I had just finished telling several tales of Robin Hood, aka Robin of Locksley and his band of merry men to some of the local children and a few of the adults at the ceili*, when an elderly gentleman approached me and expressed his curiosity as to my enthusiasm for Robin Hood. I will always remember what little Erin; my neighbor's daughter said to the man "Ms. Arianna knows EVERYTHING about Robin Hood! She has a million books about him!" The gentleman had just laughed good-naturedly, and needless to say, I shooed little Erin away and turned my attention back to the man. I began to explain to him what little Erin had meant and shared that I did have quite a few books on Robin Hood, but also on that general time period, the middle ages. Just as everyone had his or her own passions, mine was Robin Hood.

The old man introduced himself as Patrick, and that he was just passing through Ireland in search of someone, and had been invited to the party by my neighbor. Patrick asked if I would mind showing him my collection of Robin Hood. I couldn't think of a reason not to show him without being rude, so I took him into my library and let him look around for a few minutes before asking him why he was so interested in my collection, and if he was a historian of some sort. He started laughing as if I had just told a jest, gasping between breaths that he could be called a historian, but that in this day and age, titles didn't really matter. He wanted to know how long I had been studying the history of the Middle Ages and Robin of Locksley. At the time it seemed like a reasonable question and had replied that I had been studying that particular time period since I was in eighth grade and for Robin Hood since early high school. It was just something I had been intrigued by for some time and could never seem to be content with just one source on the subject. I also expressed to him my regret at not ever being able to full fill my silly childhood dream; to go back in time and live these events firsthand, and not just read about them. However no one could go back in time, and even if they were able to go back in time that person may re-write history, and everything that we know would be different. Yes, I am sure that there are events that everyone wishes they could change, but it is quite possible that these events happened for a reason. That maybe, a lesson was needed to be taught with an event, who knew for sure though.

I can still see Patrick's face when I finished speaking; he looked taken aback by my statement. I remember thinking "Oh no, I've said too much! How can I remedy this situation?" When Patrick smiled and told me that on his journey he had met very few people, like myself, who realized that going back in time (in the theory of course) was not as glamorous as the stories made it seem. But that my collection was indeed quite impressive and that someday this knowledge might just come in handy, and before I had a chance to question what he meant by that, he simply thanked me for hosting such a fun party and to never stop believing that someday my dream might come true. I watched him walk through the throng of people at the ceili and did not see him again until years later, at a different time, and in a different place.

After that party life for me went on without anything-major happening for quite some time. The memories of the ceili started to blend in with everyday life, and the strange conversation with Patrick faded away till it was nothing but a distant memory stored in the back of my mind. Then one day towards the end of summer something magical happened. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had gotten up with the rising sun to finish packing everything that I would need for our annual camping trip, the fog had not yet burnt off but you could hear the birds chirping and smell the morning dew on the grass. After eating some breakfast and feeding Pookah I decided it was time to start loading Pookah up and head off. We reached the clearing, which marked our halfway point, around noon; and I had noticed up ahead something that looked like a window into another forest.

I thought that maybe we were closer than I had originally thought, and urged Pookah forward towards the window. As we approached this window the edges seemed to be made from fairy dust, as they were sparkling in the sunlight. I remember laughing at myself thinking that indeed those pesky little buggers had decided to play a trick on me, and cause my eyes to see something that wasn't even there! However, the more I sat there on Pookah, the more curious I became, and decided to live a little and urged him forward through the window.