Chapter 1
“Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog
The bog down in the valley-o”
- Carlyle Fraser
“Arse! Bollocks! Cac!” I shouted on a frustrated growl to no one in particular as I raced down the road.
I was going to be late. Not like the ‘oh hey you’re a few minutes late, cutting it a bit close there aren’t you?’ sort of late. More like the ‘are you really even an adult? This is your first day and you’re fired’ sort of late.
I somehow slept through all my alarms (all five of them to be exact.. set at five minute intervals) and was currently racing away from my house down the street headed towards the highway.
I always swore in Irish with an Irish accent when I was frustrated or angry. Somehow it just sounded and felt better, a little sing-song to smooth the harsh words but also a little more inflection that conveyed a stronger feeling than simple boring English. Plus, ‘cac’ was just fun to say, similar sounding to ‘cock’ but meant shit in Gaelic, so the word held the double meaning of two great swear words.
I sped by a sign reading ‘35 mph’ and glanced down at my speedometer where it read 47 mph. I then glanced at the dash where the clock read “10:51 AM”. Cac. It was my first day since I moved back home and I had gotten a job at a local pub one town over. My new manager had asked me to be there at 11AM and here I was over a half hour away and had just nine minutes to get there.
I knew in my rational mind that I wouldn’t get there in time no matter how fast I was going, but still, I tapped the gas and lurched the car past the fifty mark on the dash.
Clocking in at 53 mph I twisted and turned down the windy road, feeling for a moment as if I was playing a race car video game as the road’s hills and turns made for a thrilling, yet slightly scary course.
I held the wheel with my left hand, eyes glued to the road, and shimmied my right arm out of my pajama shirt, then switched hands on the wheel and shook my left arm lose. I had been in such a state of panic upon wakening, I just threw the first bra I could find on under my pajama top. It was a new bra I had bought from Savage Fenti when I had had a bit too much wine one night. It had multiple straps and half cups that were a mesh see-through covering only half my breast or so. I had bought it on a whim to make myself feel sexier and more confident. I thought if I felt sexy then maybe that would show through and other people would feel that confidence as well. I hadn’t worn it yet, but it was the first bra I grabbed and I didn’t have time to contemplate another. Next I was shoving my legs into dark jeans, slapping on my nonslip vans and dashing out the door.
As I drove with my top hanging around my neck, a tickle creeped into my nose, and a strong and unstoppable bellowing sneeze erupted from me.
“Damn cat.” I muttered under my breath.
I had recently moved back to the east coast from California and was currently crashing at my dad house with his newly acquired “Christian Mingle” wife. Said wife, also had a cat— of which I was deathly allergic. They had failed to mention that trivial detail when they enthusiastically said, “of course you can stay with us while you get on your feet! We’d love to have you!” Since moving in, I had quickly discovered that cooking anything “fishy smelling” was the equivalent of setting a nuclear bomb, lighting candles was as welcome as a satanic ritual and laundry and a ‘tidy room’ was of the utmost importance as “cleanliness is next to godliness”.
After only two weeks residing with them, I was already looking for a way out of that hellish nightmare.
My eyes started to water a bit and I felt another tingling feeling creeping up my nose and throat as an even more powerful sneeze threatened. It was at that moment that my car’s Bluetooth decided to finally connect to my phone and Carlyle Fraser’s “Rattlin’ Bog” blared over the speakers. As the twangy and upbeat Irish tune romped throughout the small cabin of my Toyota Corolla, a smile slipped onto my face.
God, I missed Ireland. It had been a year since I’d been. Having always wanted to go as a child, I finally got to go on a trip to the motherland. I took my mom with me and we adventured around the wondrous and magical country for two whole weeks. Exploring where her side of the family was from in the outskirts of Athlone, we had bought Claddaugh rings in Galway, ventured the majestic and treacherous Cliffs of Moher, had stayed overnight in an ancient Irish castle, sang and danced to knee-slapping jovial music and ate ourselves silly with Irish cheese, washing it all down with endless pints of Guinness and whiskey. It was one of the best trips of my life. Needless to say, I was dying to go back.
My fond and fleeting reminiscing had made me forget about my looming and epic sneeze, and seconds later it burst out of me like a demon trying to exercise itself from my body. I swerved as the sneeze forced my whole body to pitch forward and my eyes to pinch closed with its power.
As fast as it had came, it went and I quickly opened my eyes to discover I was about to fly off the road into a fast approaching mailbox. I yanked the wheel to the left quickly to right myself. In that moment, extreme dread and adrenaline coursed through my body as I thought “this is it, this is how I end. My obituary will read: ‘Ro was a beloved friend, sister and daughter. At only 29 years old she had accomplished a few mentionable things in her life. She acquired her bachelors degree in hospitality management, she traveled to five continents and over 20 countries and traveled across the United States thrice all before even turning 30. She died single and alone having never found the love of her life, but most argue adventure and humor were her great loves. After moving back from California to be closer to family, Ro tragically met her end due to a car crash incited by her one true enemy, a loathsome creature of whom she invariably despised. The sharp clawed, menacing, lawless and tempestuous beast that many call by its given name; cat.’
My hard jerk to the left had corrected my cars impending path of doom and I was safely within the traffic lines of the road again. An exhausted sigh of relief blew past my lips as I realized I wasn’t dead. The shock of adrenaline that had coursed through me flooded out of me as fast as it had came.
“Okay Ro, just get there in one piece.” I snapped at myself.
‘What was left to do?’ I thought.
One, change into my all black T-shirt. Two, apply cover up and mascara. Three, brush my hair. Four, spritz perfume. Then I would be ready to tackle my first day on the job.
I reached for my hair brush and began combing out the tresses that sleep had mysteriously worked into formidable knots. As Rattlin’ Bog continued to howl out of the booming speakers and I brushed my tangled birds nest hair, I felt the uncomfortable boulder of a rock lodged in my nose. The unmistakable ‘bat in the cave’ if you will, of an annoying and rather large feeling booger was now taking residence in my right nasal cavity. I disposed of the brush in my purse and leaned over to the passengers side to open the glove compartment. I felt around for a tissue or at the very least, a Dunkin Donuts napkin. My flailing and searching hand came up empty. Nothing. I sighed. Closing the glove compartment with my right hand, I returned it to the wheel promising to blow my nose when I got to work.
I continued down the winding road and knew I was almost to the entrance for the highway. But still this gargantuan rock plugging my airway was driving me insane. My two colossal sneezes had launched this booger into the most irritating location in my nose and I couldn’t help what happened next.
I took my right hand from the wheel, eyes still secured to the treacherous twisting road ahead, extended my right pointer finger and launched it into my nostril. Using my newly manicured finger I began my search to find the troublesome barrier. Within seconds my nail met with the invader and I curved my finger and began the eviction process. Picking at the obstruction like a jack hammer to concrete, I caught the bugger (pun intended) and pulled my finger out of my nose with the evidence on my nail.
Two things happened simultaneously then.
One: “Gotcha!” I snapped as I stared down, removing my eyes from the road at the monstrous green invader on the tip of my finger.
Two: “Gotcha!” Said Death as my car careened and bumped off the road into a vast and dank marshland.
Everything then went completely and utterly black.
