Overcomer - The Journey by Judy Colella (top 10 non fiction books of all time txt) 📕

“N-i-a-l-l. He was a local judge, a Breslin or Brehon in our tongue. I greeted him and apologized for making him wait.

“He was not at all happy with me, I must say, claiming his feet were growing roots from him standing there for so long.” Croghan chuckled. “Niall’s sense of humor is… unique. Anyhow, I told him Cian was the lad we were seeking, but he wasn’t convinced, even when I told him the boy looked as if he could be Celesta’s son.

“Not until the cottage door opened and a small blue shadow emerged, which became defined by the moonlight when he got close enough for its light to illuminate his features, did Niall agree that this could certainly be the boy Celesta meant. And then, when Cian showed only friendly curiosity, good manners, and a sense of humor in the course of a short discussion with the Breslin, he was convinced.

“After Cian went back inside, we discussed the situation – Niall had reservations about taking a child from his family, even though he knew why we were doing this. I, too, was starting to regret what had to be done. The love that family had… well, I came up with another solution. I told Niall we would be taking the parents with us, at least as far as the Hub. Of course, Niall being Niall, he demanded to know if I’d lost my mind, pointing out that bringing his parents had not been part of Celesta’s instructions. But I was adamant, and at last he stopped objecting.

“We soon bid each other good night, and I went back inside.”

Cian stood. “I’m sorry, but I – I need to… look, I’ve dreamed bits and pieces of all this over the last six and a half years, but it was only during the last two or so that I realized they were memories. I remembered various things my parents had said to me as a child, and the doctors helped me remember more recent things that I’d blocked out, but I’m afraid I also blocked out most of my past, and being reminded like this is… uncomfortable. Your words are bringing everything back. Would you mind, Croghan, if I went outside for a while? Perhaps some cold air would help.”

“Me, too.” Celeste jumped to her feet.

Katie got up, too. “Uh, hello – not without me.”

Mr. and Mrs. Kelly looked at each other and shrugged.

“Mr. Croghan?” Mrs. Kelly asked.

“Yes, I could use a break.” He gave Cian a wink.

Their reaction to his need for solitude surprised him. All he’d wanted was to get outside, alone. Sort out the clamoring, clanging thoughts. But solitude was no longer an option and the smile he gave the Croghan in response was weak.

Mrs. Kelly had also gotten up. “That’s fine. Donal?” She put a hand on his arm. “Let’s go wait in the kitchen until the kids get back – and don’t go too far,” she added, looking at Celeste.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I don’t think the neighborhood is ready for him yet. We’ll go hang out in the yard.”

“Good idea.” Donal rose and stretched. “By the way, young man, you aren’t going anywhere without a decent coat. Come with me, please.” He led Cian back to the front hall where he took a woolen coat and scarf from the closet. “Gloves?”

“No, but thank you. I really appreciate this.”

Mr. Kelly shook his head. “I can’t believe you came over here without a coat. Well, come on then.”

Such a kind man… Cian shrugged into the coat as they returned to the kitchen, encouraged. Things were beginning to feel right.

Katie and Celeste were bundled up in heavy coats and waiting by the back door by this time; Cian held it opened for them, following them out.

Four steps led down to a large yard. White stone benches sat in front of a tall hedge at one end, a pond a few feet in front of the benches. At the other end was an octagonal, wooden structure that Cian remembered being called a gazebo. His first foster parents had had one in their yard, too, but it was twice the size of this and painted white and lavender. He blinked, dispelling the memory, sadness piercing his heart with its sudden appearance.

Celeste and Katie hustled toward the gazebo, but he was in no hurry to join them. Taking his time, he crossed the patio, stepped out onto the lawn, stopped. The unwanted image of the patchy, untended yard in Georgia superimposed itself over this one. Another memory best left alone.

The girls had climbed the steps and were sitting at what Cian could see was a round table at it center. Not wanting them to be offended by his reticence, he took a deep breath and joined them. A curved wooden bench surrounded the table. He sat, shoving his hands into the coat pockets, and closed his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

What a sweet, gentle voice Celeste has… Opening his eyes again, he looked across at her. “Yes. Sorry. You know, I had planned to talk to you about all of this myself first, or as much as I could remember. I didn’t know the Croghan had found you already, though, or even that he had come here yet.”

“You knew he’d show up?” Katie sat opposite him, next to Celeste.

“Eventually, but I thought he’d seek me out before trying to find you. How odd this must seem to you.”

“Odd?” Katie snorted. “How about the fact that you claim to have been born in what, the end part of the Iron Age? Or was it the beginning of the medieval period? Whatever. It was long before now.”

“You have no idea.” Still reeling from the flood of memories that had assailed him since coming to Celeste’s house, still shocked at his unexpected reunion with The Croghan – yes. “Odd” was appropriate. “One day I’m going about my business like any normal eight-year-old of my time, learning to use a sword, shearing sheep with my father, sweeping the cottage floor, looking for plants to make dyes with for my mother, and the next, I’m on a strange journey, being led through a Door into this insane place that looks like nothing I’ve ever seen, and that goes on almost forever until we find ourselves at the base of a bloody hill in the middle of this... void, where an astounding, huge, beautiful creature is sitting and playing the most gorgeous music on a harp. She tells me I must be separated from my parents because I have a destiny, but does something to my mother by simply touching her that makes her peaceful about having to lose me. I ask her if I can have that kind of peace, too, but she only says ‘eventually but not yet,’ and then we’re being ushered about down more paths that look to be going nowhere, only to be brought through yet other Doors into places where the people speak different languages, dress in the strangest clothing, and rely more and more on things that I’m told are called ‘machines.’ And then I’m back at this Hub being schooled more fully in these languages, and – well, I think I understand all about what’s odd.”

“Wow,” Celeste breathed. “Sounds like you had one crazy journey.”

“Well put. There’s a whole lot more to the story, by the way.”

“We figured that much,” Katie said.

“Yes, well, I’m not so sure I want to tell this part – it’s unpleasant, to say the least.”

“Then don’t,” said Celeste.

“No, I think I have to. You, especially, have to know as much as possible, Celeste. A destiny awaits you, too.”

Before she could respond, Katie leaned forward. “What about me? Wherever she goes, I go.”

Cian raised an eyebrow. “Really... all right, but I’m not sure Celesta is going to approve – ”

“Celesta can go suck an egg.”

“I don’t think angels do…that.”

“Well maybe they just suck, then.”

Cian tried to picture this and failed.

“Not literally!” Celeste choked back a laugh. “She means maybe they’re... annoying.”

“And if she tries to separate me from my bff, I’ll smack her.”

What?! “One does not go about smacking angels, Katie. And…why must you talk in this absurd code? What on earth is a ‘bff’?”

“It means ‘best friend forever.’ It’s a kind of short-hand for when we t-m each other.”

Both eyebrows rose this time.

“Um, an abbreviation used when sending a message over the cell phone or when we IM someone online?”

He gave up.

“You’ll get it eventually.” Celeste grinned and blew on her gloved hands.

“You really don’t know about this stuff, do you,” Katie said.

“W-not about that text thing or the eye em whatever... stuff...”

Celeste got up and went to the railing, turning to face them, and leaned back. “What I don’t get is how you could have lived in this century for, is it six years?”

“Almost seven.”

“Right. Almost seven years, and not know about things like that.”

“Maybe because I spent most of it in a basement.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I wasn’t exactly given a choice.” He looked away, not yet ready to talk about this part of the story, and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

Before he could, Celeste added, “Another thing I don’t understand. Why did you forget in the first place? And why did you have doctors? Were you ill?”

And there it was. To answer that he would have to speak of those things that had almost destroyed him. Had, in fact, broken him for a while. That still tore at him. Again, the question – how could he change the subject?

A moment later, the subject was changed for him when Tara and her friends burst through the back door, thumped down the stairs, and headed for the gazebo. They were clumped together in a kind of moving huddle, giggling. What odd behavior!

Celeste turned to face them, groaning. “Oh, no. Not now...”

Katie stood and went to the top of the stairs, hands on her hips. “Stop right there,” she commanded when they were almost at the steps. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever we want.” Tara lifted her chin in defiance. “And we want to sit in the gazebo like we were doing before.”

“Aw, Tara, please go away,” pleaded Celeste. “We’re talking, okay?”

“About what?”

“How to murder younger sisters without anyone finding out.”

“What?” Cian stood now and gaped at Celeste, horrified.

Three shrieks rang out, startling him. The younger girls were staring up at him, clutching at Tara’s from either side. Disconcerting.

“Are you famous?” one of them asked, blushing bright red. “I couldn’t ask you at lunch.”

Cian came closer to the top of the stairs, stared at the girl who had spoken – she looked feverish. “Are you feeling well?”

“Tara! Go away! Cian is our guest, and you are being incredibly rude!” Celeste had joined him and was glaring.

“Would you really kill your sister?” Cian whispered, looking sidelong at her.

Tara, meanwhile, had grabbed both of her friends by their arms and was propelling them back to the house, muttering furiously into their ears.

Celeste crossed her arms and leaned against the archway. “You were an only child, weren’t you.”

“Well, yes, but… not at first. Damnaigh sé!” A new and horrid recollection assaulted him.

“Wait –