An Early Wake Read Online Free

more thing Maura hadn’t known about him. He must have had a wealth of stories to tell. And Tim here had missed him by only six months. Too bad. “It’s a shame you can’t talk to him,” Maura said.
    “It is,” he agreed. “I should have sorted things out sooner, but I’ve only just scratched the surface. But surely there are others around here who remember? Who knew the place back then?”
    Maura and Rose exchanged looks. “Before I was born,” Rose said. “Me da might know.”
    “Or Mick—young Mick, that is,” Maura explained to Tim. “No relation to Old Mick. But young Mick’s old enough to remember—he had to have been a teenager then, right, Rose?” Rose nodded.
    “And where might I find these fellas?” Tim asked.
    “Here,” Maura said promptly. “They’ll both be in sometime today—they work here. And they worked for Old Mick, before. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. And, of course, there’s Billy Sheahan.”
    “Who’s he?” Tim asked.
    “An old friend of Old Mick’s—and I mean ‘old’ in both senses.” Maura smiled. “He’s in his eighties, and he and Old Mick were friends for decades. He usually comes in about now, and he’s here for most of the day.” Billy hadn’t yet arrived, but it was early yet. Maura wasn’t worried, since he lived on the ground floor at the other end of the building and could make his way to the pub blindfolded; once he arrived he’d stay most of the day, spinning tales for any tourists who wandered in and swapping stories with his local friends. Maura happened to know that most of Billy’s stories were true, although he wasn’t beyond throwing in a bit of creative detail, depending on his audience. She had come to realize that often in Ireland the telling of the story was more important than the truth of it. She had no idea what tourists made of him, but she was pretty sure they went away believing they’d had a taste of Auld Ireland.
    “Brilliant! That’s exactly what I was hoping for—an oral history of the way things were. I’d planned to poke around for a few days anyway.”
    “Do you have a place to stay?” Maura asked. So far her impression was that most people from outside County Cork assumed there were plenty of bed-and-breakfasts and hotels to be had, but the reality was a bit different: the Leap Inn, locally more often called Sheahan’s, across the street catered to fishermen and had only a handful of rooms; the hotel in Skibbereen was kind of upscale for a student; and the conference centers that were popping up here and there were probably far beyond his means.
    “I thought I’d look for a hostel or the like,” he said. “Do you know of one?”
    “I hear there’s one in Skibbereen, if you don’t mind dormitory style,” Rose volunteered.
    “That’d be grand. By the way, what music do you listen to here now? I don’t see any jukebox in the place.”
    “Nothing,” Maura admitted. “I don’t have time. There’s the television for the customers, for sports. When the place is busy, it’s too loud to hear anyway.” She spotted a couple of men coming in the door and excused herself to go over to greet them and take their orders as they settled themselves at a table. When she looked back, Rose and Tim were deep in conversation, no doubt comparing bands, local or other. For a moment Maura felt old, even though she was probably only a few years older than Tim. But, she told herself, she’d had much more life experience than a sheltered college student like Tim could have had. It was small comfort.
    There were a half dozen people in the place by the time Old Billy Sheahan made his slow way into the pub, headed for his accustomed chair like a stately tugboat.
    “Good morning to you, Maura, or, no, I should say, good afternoon,” Billy greeted her. “As the cold sets in, I move a bit slower.”
    “That’s what Bridget said too. What can I get you?”
    “A pint, if you will.”
    “Coming up.” She went over to