Wee Man From Green Isle

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March 19th 2014  |  0  |  Category: Bedtime , Fiction  |  Author: geedda  |  1031 views

Wee Man From Green Isle

Leprechauns, the wee folks, are thought to be a legend, a myth, and until two days ago, I would have agreed.

It was a blustery, cold day in March on the eastern shore of the Atlantic, on the coast of Maine where I maintain a summer home; March through September. I was washing the windows of my modest home. As I stood atop the six-foot step ladder, I could see Munson Cove below the cliff on which my home was built. The gulls were soaring above a small, green punt.

I climbed down from my ladder and went in and got my binoculars. The tiny boat had washed ashore; a large gaping hole in its prow. What caught my attention, as I peered through the glasses, was the occupant, a small man with red hair and beard, dressed in green and white cloth with silver buckled shoes. He could not have been more than three feet tall. He was either sleeping, or dead.

I walked the third of a mile down the hill to the cove. As I neared the punt I could see the small figure beginning to stir; he sat up; shook his head and looked around. Spotting me, he quickly jumped to his feet. He was less than three feet tall; possibly two feet eight inches tall.

“Put up yer hands,” he said standing like a boxer’s sparing partner.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Want to fight?” He asked. “I can fight me way outta trouble, quick’s an Irishman’s flaring temper.”

“I don’t want to fight; I just want to know who you are,” I said.

“Micheael Donnegan, Who are you?”

“Patrick O’Connor, I own that home up there.” I pointed up the rock ledge to my house.

“An Irishman are ye? Well, nice to meet ya Patrick.” He stuck out his hand.

The small man’s hand disappeared into my fist.

“What brings you to Maine, Michael?” I asked.

“Gold, what else, why would a leprechaun leave his native soil except to chase after gold? I saw the rainbow, and I got in me boat and… well, here I am.”

“You came all the way across the Atlantic in this small boat?”

“That I did Mr O’Connor that I did. I turned into this here cove, and a huge wave took me boat into this rock; knocked me out and stove up me transport.”

“I am sorry for your accident, but I don’t think you’ll find any gold in Maine, our gems are mostly tourmaline and quartz.”

“Aye, but the rainbow ended right here in this cove. There’s got to be gold here, Mr O’Connor, and I intend to find it.”

“Good luck,” I said.

“Don’t you want your three wishes granted?”

“What three wishes?” I asked.

“The three wishes you get for catchin’ a leprechaun of course.”

“I didn’t realize I captured a leprechaun.”

“Are ye blind, Mr O’Connor? I am a leprechaun, and ye’ve got me in yer clutches.”

“Leprechauns are not real; you bumped your head too hard,” I said. “My grandfather, a native of Ireland, used to tell me stories of the ‘wee people,’ but he also told me they were foolish folk tales, didn’t exist.”

“Make a wish, and I’ll prove to you I am a leprechaun, go ahead, make a wish, Mr O’Connor.”

Thinking to humor him, I asked for a new skiff mine was old and leaking water. Before I could say new skiff, a forty foot yacht appeared in the cove next to the little man’s boat.

“Is that big enough fer ye, Mr O’Connor?” He asked.

I could not believe I was looking at this yacht that probably would have cost over four hundred thousand dollars if I had to buy it, and it was mine.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Ah, it’s a secret, Mr O’Connor, a secret. Now, You have two more wishes to be granted.”

“I know how to row a boat, but I don’t know how to operate a ship this size.”

“No problem, Mr O’Connor.” With the snap of a finger four men appeared on the deck of the yacht, each one saluting me.

“I’m the first mate, Sir, Henry O’Malley at yer service.”

The other three men nodded.

“I’ll be yer captain, Sir, if that’d be all right with ye,” O’Malley said.

“Fine, thank you… Captain,” I said.

“Aye, aye Sir.”

“One more wish… be careful, take ye time, Mr O’Conor, tis important for you to make the right wish, cause it be ye last one.”

I thought about money, the idea of owning enough to buy whatever I wanted without the worry of depleting my bank account almost caused me to make a wish for wealth, but, too much money can corrupt a person. I thought about more land, but decided I had all the land I could maintain without hiring help. I thought about a girl to marry, but I’ve been a bachelor so long; set in my ways, I wouldn’t make a very good husband I am afraid. What could I ask for?

I stood pondering, watching the small man sitting on the edge of his punt smoking a clay pipe, the smell of the tobacco was sweet, not sickening like cheap tobacco.

“Take yer time, Mr O’Connor, take yer time.”

Suddenly, I thought of my third and final wish; it felt right, comforting and should be easy for the little man to perform, though I doubt he will perform it happily.

“I’ve got it,” I said.

“What is it, Mr O’Connor, what is it?”

“I wish… I wish you had never been here, and the day would return to a normal, March day in Maine, with only the magic of a beautiful springtime.”

“You realize that means, no yacht, no crew and no… me. Wait a minute, I would be gone too; leave without me gold. Please, Mr O’Connor, make another wish.”

“Nope, that is my wish.” I watched as first the yacht disappeared with the crew, and then the little man, a sad look on his face, and last, his punt. Poof, they were all gone as if they had never been here.

I woke the next morning and gazed below at the cove. Was it all a dream, or had I met a leprechaun? I guess I’ll never know for sure, but it doesn’t matter I am just happy I made the right decision. Doesn’t the bible say not to trust in uncertain riches? One should be happy with what one has I always say, but it sure is fun to run my fingers through the gold coins in this large iron pot here in my garage.


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