Just a Dose of Parker Luck

Abhaile

High is the moon tonight (ya-da-dada-dada)
Hiding its guiding light, high
Heaven and earth do sleep
Still in the dark so deep
I will the darkness sweep
Yadada-dadada-da
Yadada-dadada-Yadada-dadada

Mary began to waltz around the room, singing with Peter on her hip. Richard kicked in with a fiddle solo, letting Mary spin their son around the room laughs bouncing off the walls with the music. Despite the sky being dark outside, the room felt as though it was filled with sunlight, their shadows dancing and spinning by the flickering flame of the candles. It was like it had always been, and Peter held on to the hope that it would never change.

* * * * *

The November sky was grey as Peter stared dejectedly out the window, the last time he would do so. The soft lapping of the waves on the sand that hand lulled him to sleep each night was still there, mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves as the breeze blew. He pulled his coat around him tighter, shivering in the cold. 

A hand rested on his shoulder, massaging him soothingly. He looked up to find his mother's quiet, green eyes. Her red hair that so often was let loose in the wind was pulled back in a neat twist, displaying her delicate features. "It's time to go," she said softly. Peter nodded and pulled away from his window, taking one last glance at his empty bedroom. It was odd, seeing the room he had spent so long in suddenly barren of anything pertaining to him. He dropped his gaze, letting his mother steer him out of the little home. 

He said one last farewell to the roses in the garden, waving goodbye to the gentle ocean he had spent many summer days in, giving the big tree one last hug before climbing into the car for the drive to the airport. The green hills rushed by, the small village fading from view as they drove away.

The airport was massive. There were people everywhere, voices and footsteps echoing off the walls. Peter stayed close to his mother's side, squeezing her hand tightly as they walked through. He kept his eyes on the ground, his brown curls bobbing as they moved along.

The plane was noisy. A baby was crying. The engines were loud. Peter spent the first half an hour squirming in his seat, watching out the window at the fluffy clouds rolling past. It was kind of enchanting, being so high in the blue yonder, the clouds below them and the star above. Eventually Peter fell asleep, his head resting against his father's shoulders. Richard smiled, running his fingers through his son's hair, making the curls frizz and split. Peter slept for the rest of the flight, receiving a lot of prodding when it was time to put his seatbelt on. His ears filled up as the plane descended and he winced, moving his jaw around to get them to pop as they left the aircraft, earning a few odd looks as they went and collected their baggage. They finally popped when he was seated in the car, thank goodness.

His eyes widened when they reached the city. Night was setting over New York, the skyline filling up with lights. Cars sped past theirs, horns honking as they rushed through traffic. People were everywhere. Massive crowds of them, walking, sitting, eating food in cafes and restaurants, bobbing in and out of stores... Peter had never seen so many people in his life. And the buildings! Tall, glittering towers of glass and lights loomed above them, their roofs scraping the dark sky. Even the night sky was different. Peter was used to seeing countless stars slashed across the inky canvas, but now the sky looked blank, void of any white pricks. Everything was completely different.

The car eventually stopped at a brick house, just outside the city. Peter hopped out tentatively, looking down at the rows of houses around him. The bustling city could still be heard, with cars roaring and trains hurtling along the tracks. Everything was so noisy compared to the still tranquility that Peter had grown accustomed to back in Ireland. Ireland. He wasn't even in Europe anymore. The realization suddenly hit Peter like a wave and he gasped, tears prickling at his eyes. Mary noticed and scooped him up, resting him on her hip. "It's okay," she said soothingly as they walked through the door. Boxes were stacked up against the wall, but some furniture was prepared. Peter scanned the new house, taking in how big it was. There were even stairs.