CHAPTER III (continued)

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to embarrass you," Suzanne Quickly added "It's just that you two are very special to me.  I feel as if I've known you for lifetimes.  I'm just anxious to help you develop your powers."

Sean let out a sigh of relief, now that it was over and he had taken his first giant step to embracing his abilities.

"Boy! I could sure use a drink right now."

Suzanne laughed heartily, grabbed Sean's and Lorrie's arms and guided them down the street to O'Flaherty's Irish Pub.

Lorrie looked up at the hand-carved sign which covered most of the front of the building above the bright green door.

"It really is a pub!  How neat!  I wonder if they have Murphy's Irish here?"

Suzanne winked at her.

"Now, lassie, would I take you to a pub that didn't serve it?"

They all laughed.

"No," said Lorrie. "I'm sure you wouldn't.  I hope you'll forgive me.  I'm not used to being around someone as developed as you are.  Sean and I can communicate with each other pretty well, but we just haven't had the time to practice enough to be able to do it with others."

"Well, don't worry about that.  Your time is coming."

The interior of the pub offered a very cozy and intimate atmosphere.  It was much larger than it appeared to be from the street, though.   The left side and back walls were all lined with comfortable, private booths which were dimly lit by hanging Tiffany-Style lamps.

The bar was magnificent.  Sean couldn't help staring at it. And, Suzanne couldn't help noticing Sean's interest in it.

"Chauncy had that boated all the way over here from Ireland, Sean," she said. "Isn't it absolutely stunning?"

"I've never seen anything like it.  Look at that backbar, Lorrie.  The carving is so intricate.  And the etching on the mirror.   Look at those scenes.  They're exquisite."

"Those leprechauns were all etched into the glass by Chancey's great grandfather.  he was quite a craftsman."

"Boy!  I'll say.  I can't even imagine what kind of value it has."

"Well, you can be sure its work a lot more than its material value," said Suzanne.  "When Chancey's great grandfather retired from his trade as a furniture maker he bought an old rundown building in Kilkenny and turned it into the most fantastic pub around.  He made the bar and all of the furniture with his own two hands. They say it took him over a year to do that.  Then he engraved the mirror and leaded and painted all around the windows.  If you look closely, you can see his name etched in the lower right hand corner of the mirror.   It's just under that pot of gold over there" Suzanne pointed to the location.

"I've got to get a closer look," said Sean.  he walked over to the end of the bar where Suzanne had told him the signature was and leaned over to get a better look.

Just as his hands touched the bar a strange tingling sensation shot through them, causing a chill in the back of his neck.  He instinctively pulled his hands away from the bar and straightened up.  Then he gingerly ran his fingers over the well-polished and varnished wood, checking to seek if the experience would repeat itself.

The room began to darken around him and the voices from the patrons suddenly muffled, then faded away until there was total silence.

Sean's head began to spin.  He tried to shake the dizzy feeling away, then he closed his eyes.  For a few seconds his mind was filled with bright colors, swirling around, then melting into a rustic scene.

He could see an old cobble-stoned street lined with wooden buildings which appeared weathered by time.  His mind's eye roamed up the street, then stopped when it came upon a building which sagged mournfully at the end of the street.

The windows were boarded, but some of the boards had fallen, allowing small glimpses of colored glass to be visible.  The door was also boarded, but part of a sign could be read.  Sean tried to focus on the sign, but everything around was beginning to fade.  All he could see were the letters " . . . AVEN."

The scene within his mind dissolved almost as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Sean disoriented and curious.

Suzanne's touch shocked him back to reality.

"So, you felt it too, did you?" she asked.

At first Sean was too drained and too stunned by his experience to speak.  he could barely manage a nod.  Then he shook his head in disbelief.

"I felt such overwhelming sadness . . . . such an awful loneliness.."

"That's very good, Sean.  What else did you feel?"

"Something happened shortly after the old man opened for business . . . maybe a year or two.  It's kind of vague . . . I'm not sure what it was, but I get a feeling that whatever it was caused him a great deal of pain and torment."

Suzanne smiled and held Sean's hand in hers.

"I'm very proud of you.  You are learning not to be afraid to share your feelings and what you are sensing.  Now, relax . . . and concentrate on your feelings.  Let me see what I can pick up from you."

Sean shut his eyes and concentrated.  His hand trembled in Suzanne's but it didn't affect her.  She attuned her mind to his.

"I believe the frustration you are experiencing is coming from Chauncey's great grandfather."

"Yes, I believe that too."

"Does a name come to you?"

Sean strained to come up with an answer to Suzanne's question.   Finally, he sighed heavily and released his hand from her grip.

"No . . . no.  I guess that's all I'm going to get for now.  The only name that kept shouting out at me was my own."

He let out a disconcerted laugh.  "Boy! Is that 'ego,' or what?"

Suzanne had a very smug grin on her face.

"It's 'what'." she responded.

"Huh! What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Chancey's great grandfather."

I'm afraid you've lost me, Suzanne."

"Have patience, Sean.  You'll see."

She turned away from him and raised her voice to the red-headed bartender.

"Hey Chauncy!  Would you mind coming over here for a minute?"

The bartender smiled broadly when he recognized Suzanne, tweaked his handlebar mustache, and waddled down the bar towards her.  His rosy cheeks glistened as he passed under the brightly decorated bar light.

"Well, well . . . if it isn't my old friend Suzie.   How are you this beautiful spring evening?" His brogue rolled the words smoothly and naturally.

"I am wonderful, Chancy.  And you look might fine, yourself."

Chancey rested his chubby tummy on the bar and leaned over to offer her a welcoming kiss, which she readily accepted. 

"It's good to see you again," he chimed.  Then he caught a glimpse of Lorrie who had been standing quietly in the background while Suzanne had been working with Sean.

"And who might this lovely lass be?" he asked.

"This is Lorrie Saunders."

Lorrie offered her hand to Chancey.  He quickly took advantage of the situation and kissed it.

"You have the eyes of a colleen, my dear . . . where are you from?"

Lorrie blushed.

"I'm' afraid I'm a California girl, Chancey . . . but I am of Irish descent."

"I knew it! One as love as you must have Irish blood in her."

Lorrie laughed.

"And someone as full of the blarney as you are must be a native of old Erin's Isle."

Chancey's eyes twinkled.  He pounded on the bar with his fist, then took two glasses off of the backbar.

"I like her, Suzie.  The drinks are on me.   What's your pleasure, Lorrie?"

"Murphy's on the rocks, if you've got it."

During her younger days (before she met Sean), Lorrie was madly in love with an Irish actor by the name of Richard Harris . . . although she had never had the pleasure of meeting him face to face, she made it a point to see every movie he made . . . no matter how obscure it might have been.  Ever since she saw a movie where he ordered Irish Whiskey on the rocks, that became her favorite drink.

Chancey's roar of approval brought a momentary silence from his clientele, but most of the patrons were regulars and were used to his cheerful outbursts.   Soon they returned to their private conversations.

"Um . . . may I have an Irish Mist?" Sean asked timidly, hold his hand up.

Chancey looked to Suzanne's right and saw Sean for the first time.  He stiffened and stared at Sean for what seemed an eternity.

"Oh, no!" thought Sean.  "Now what have I done?"

Suzanne quickly spoke up.

"Forgive my manners, Sean.  Chauncy, this is Lorrie's husband.  His name is Sean."

Chauncy slowly stretched his arm out and then heartily shook Sean's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you.  Please forgive my staring."

Chauncy turned away from the group as if in a daze and walked down to the other end of the bar.

"Did I do or say something wrong, Suzanne?" asked Sean.   He was very concerned over Chancey's reaction to him.

"No, no.  You'll see in a moment.  Everything is all right."

Sean watched as Chancey pulled a gold-framed picture off the wall and studied.  Then he turned and stared at Sean once more.  He pressed the picture close to his heart and slowly walked back towards Sean.  Finally he held out the picture so that both Lorrie and Sean could see it.

Lorrie gasped.

"Oh, my gosh, honey.  That man looks just like you."

Sean stared in disbelief.  Lorrie was right.  He had the same eyes . . . even the nose and hair were identical to Sean's.

"Who is he?"

Chancey sighed heavily.

"He was my great grandfather.  he died when I was a wee lad, but I remember him even to this day.  He was the kindest, most gentlest man I ever knew.  And he had a laugh that could rattle the chandeliers."

Chancey turned and lovingly set the picture against the mirror of the backbar, then rejoined the group .  Lorrie noticed a small tear trickling down his cheek.

"I still miss him.  His name . . . was the same as yours, young man . . . his name was Sean."

Sean's knees buckled under him and he grabbed the bar for support.  So that's what Suzanne meant when she said "what."  It wasn't his ego at all.  That really was his grandfathers name.

"Honey! Are you all right?" asked Lorrie.

Sean steadied himself, then quickly sat down on the nearest stool.

"Yes, I'm fine . . . Just a little dizzy.  This has been quite a day."

Chancey shook his head and forced himself back into his usual jovial mood.

"Enough of this! Now, that was an Irish Mist, a Murphy's on the rocks and . . . let me see," he rubbed his chin as he pondered what Suzanne would be drinking this time.  She always wanted to try something new.

"I think I'll try some of the Irish Whiskey that Lorrie's having," Suzanne said.

"Aha!  Good choice! Why don't you find yourselves a nice, quiet booth and I will serve your drinks to you personally."

"Well!  In all the times I have come here, this IS a first.  I think I'll have to bring Lorrie and Sean back with me more often."

"You do that, Suzie. You do that."

Sean was a little leery about getting up off the stool, but once he took the chance and stood up he realized that the strength had returned to his legs.   He carefully followed Lorrie and Suzanne over to one of the booths at the back of the room and sank into the deep leather seat with a sigh of relief.

Lorrie cast a concerned glance at Sean.  His face was ashen and drawn.

"I'm glad we've got two weeks off. You look terrible."

Sean force a grin.

"Thanks a lot!"

"No, that's not what I meant.  I meant that you need a nice, uneventful rest."

"I'm sure look forward to getting away" Sean said as he glanced over at Suzanne.

"There was something else that I saw.  Maybe you can help me with it."

"I'd be glad to, Sean.  What was it?"

Suzanne perked up with enthusiasm as Sean described the cobble-stoned streets and the old wood buildings, and became very excited when he told her about the letters he saw on the sign of the lonely building.  She clapped her hands together with joy when he had finished relating everything he had seen.

"I just love it when this happens!" she exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" asked Lorrie.  "It sounds like a lot of bits and pieces to me."

"That's what's so much fun about this kind of work, Lorrie.   Putting all of the pieces together to get the entire picture."

Chauncy arrived and distributed their drinks. Sean quickly picked up his snifter which had been generously filled with Irish Mist and took a healthy sip.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Suzanne put her hand on Chancey's arm just as he began to turn away and head back towards the bar.

"Would you mind telling Sean and Lorrie the name of your great grandfathers pub?"

"Why, no. He had a thing about leprechauns.  I think that he secretly communicated with them after he had had a pint or two," Chauncy grinned.

"He always said that he could see them.  But, then he did like his whisky, too. Anyway, he called his place 'Leprechauns' Haven.' I think it might have been a play on words.  I'm not sure whether he meant 'Haven' or 'Heaven.' Either way, it was a have and a heaven for all of his friends.

"When he died, the place kinda died with him.  All of the furniture was sold at auction.  Shortly after I bought this place I went back home for a visit.  It was then that I found that for some reason the bar itself was never sold and that it was still inside the old place, covered with dust and weathered by time and the seasons."  I knew I had to have it, no matter what it cost . . . .   " he laughed. "And, believe me, it cost a small fortune to renovate it and ship it over here."

"Hey, Chauncy! How about another draft?" a loud voice bellowed from the he far end of the bar.

Chauncy straightened up.

"I better get back to work.  If you need another drink, just raise your hand. I'll be here in a twinkling of your eye."

"thank you, Chauncy," said Lorrie.  "I love your place.  You can be sure we'll be back many, many times."

"That would be my pleasure, lass." He turned away from their table and headed back to the bar.

Suzanne beamed.

"There, you see, Sean.  You do have an extraordinary talent."

Sean let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"It sure takes a lot of work to get good at it, though, I'll bet."

Suzanne laughed.

"Well so does developing any other talent.  You didn't learn how to play the guitar overnight, did you?"

"Hah!  I'm still learning.  I must admit that this is a lot more exciting than practicing the guitar.  It's frightening, too, though."

"Speaking of frightening occurrences, I had a dream the other night which left me feeling quite off balance.  At least, until I met you two.   Then I knew that the dream I had was some sort of a message . . . for you.  Of course, I didn't understand it at first, but when the dream was over I heard the voice of a good friend of mine who lives near Big Sur in California.  The voice instructed me to give her a call."

Suzanne laughed heartily.

"I have to admit that I pulled one of Sean's little numbers, and didn't make the call until after the show today.  I was afraid to call her when I couldn't even figure out what my dream meant."

Sean put his arms around her and gave her one of his famous bear hugs.

"Thank you for admitting it," he said.

She let out a shy laugh this time.

"You know, it IS embarrassing for someone as trained as I am to have to admit to a peer that I didn't know what was going on."

Sean glanced over at Lorrie who was quietly sipping her drink and absorbing everything Suzanne was saying.  Then he returned his attention to Suzanne.

"What kind of a dream was it?" he was almost afraid to ask.

"Well . . . it was about this beautiful eagle who seemed to be lost in a forest.  I can still see him huddled on the branch of a tall redwood tree.  It was night . . . and there was a full moon shining brightly above. I remembered thinking during my dream that eagles weren't known to fly at night.   Anyway, this huge owl swept down from the sky and joined the eagle."

Sean gulped down the rest of his Irish Mist and quickly raised his hand to get Chauncey's attention.  Then he held up three fingers and made a circular motion with his hand, signaling for the bartender to bring another round of drinks.

"This is all very familiar," he said.

Suzanne smiled.

"I thought it might be."

"I'm sorry for interrupting.  Please continue."

"Actually, there isn't much more to tell.  they were flying around for a while. The Owl seemed to be teasing the Eagle at first, but I got the feeling that they knew each other and that there was some kind of deep affection and connection between the two of them.  And then there was an explosion of multi-colored lights.  Oh, what a sight it was.  I could see the lights swirling around the owl and the eagle, then they sort of faded into a cloud of rainbow colors.  The owl and the eagle began to pulsate and grow larger until they took on human shapes."

"This is amazing," said Sean.  "Can you tell us any more?"

"The owl became a very thin man with a healthy head of blond wavy, almost curly hair.  He had deep blue eyes which seemed to glow.  The eagle turned into a much taller person with a beard and handsome features.  "

Suzanne smiled warmly.

"Of course, as soon as I met you I knew that you were the eagle, Sean.  I can only imagine that the Owl is a very good friend of yours . . . a brother, perhaps?"

Lorrie reached into her purse and took out a picture of Lisa and Terran.

"Does this face look familiar?" she asked.

"Suzanne looked at the picture, then smiled again.

"Why, of course! That's the owl.  It's your friend, Terran, isn't it?  The one who was Stirih on Mawuvia?"

Lorrie nodded as she put the picture away.

The group remained silent as Chauncy approached their table with a fresh round of drinks.  Sean pulled a twenty from his money clip and handed it to Chauncy, offering to buy him a drink too.

"Well, thank you land . . . don't mind if I do." He gave Sean his change, then left quickly, realizing that they were ere in the midst of a serious conversation.

"Somebody is definitely trying to tell us something," mumbled Lorrie.  She turned to Sean and touched the side of his face.

"I'm sorry I was so reluctant to contact Nirih, honey.   I didn't realize how important it really was.  I do, now.  It must be really important for Nirih to connect with Suzanne through her dreams.  It's not like him."

"I really didn't mind, Lorrie.  I am curious, though. Does any of this make sense to you?"

Sean to another sip of his drink.

"I've been having that dream for quite a while.  Of course, I knew who the owl and the eagle were.  In my dreams the owl was trying to show the eagle something, but whenever the eagle swooped down to see what it was there was a tremendous explosion."

"I see.  Was this object that the owl alluded to made out of a shiny metal?"

"Yes . . . at least I think it was.  Anyway, it was shiny."

Suzanne slowly nodded her head up and down.  The pieces to the puzzle were beginning to fit into place and she was making a little sense out of it.

"You two are planning to go to the beach, aren't you?"

She continued speaking, not waiting for them to answer her question.  She already knew the answer.

"I see cypress trees . . . and a secluded beachhouse with no other sign o civilization around.  You will be going there."

"That sounds like the house I rented for Terran when he was working on the score for the Mawuvia Suite," thought Lorrie.

Suzanne looked deeply into Lorrie's eyes and smiled.

"You mentioned you are planning on making an attempt to contact your friend, Nirih.  Your communication with him will be on a much higher level than it was in the past.  Don't be afraid.  Do what you have to do."

Sean suddenly grew quite pensive.

"Suzanne, do you have any idea what this is all about?"

"No, not yet.  I do sense some danger, though.   Danger for you and your friend, Terran.   Usually, during dreams when you experience an explosion, it has to do with something that hasn't happened yet and because of the many choices leading up to the incident, you may not really know what will happen until it does.  You must both be very careful."

"Don't worry.  We will.  Is there anything else?"

Suzanne pulled one of her cards out of her purse and wrote down a name, address and telephone number, then handed the card to Sean.

"Yes.  As I said earlier, I finally did call my friend.  She's a very extraordinary person . .... . quite gifted."

Suzanne laughed.

"She's quite a fan of yours, too, Lorrie.  She loves Mawuvia.  Can't stop talking about it.  I suppose that's because she was there with you on Mawuvia."

Sean looked at the card, then quickly showed it to Lorrie.

Lorrie gasped.  They both knew of the acclaimed psychic.   That had attended a lecture given by Katharine Balinski and felt a special interconnection with her.

"Ah! I see you know Katharine."

"More than that, Suzanne.  Terran's one of HER biggest admirers.  He tapes every shoe she's on."

"I don't blame him.  She's very good.  She told me that she knew she could help you.  She's expecting you to call her as soon as you get to the beach."

"Don't worry, Suzanne.  We'll call her.  I promise."

"Good!"

Suzanne glanced at her watch.

"Oh, my!  I had no idea we were here this long.   I've got a plane to catch . . . and just enough time to make it."

They all stood up and exchanged hugs . . . just like very old friends.

"You have a bid day ahead.  Why don't you relax here for a while.  If you ever need me . . . or if you just want to talk, please me me a call.  I don't want to lose touch with you.  I'll instruct my staff to let you know where I am whenever I have to go out of town."

Lorrie smiled.

"Thank you for everything, Suzanne."

"yes," added Sean.  "I know I will never forget this meeting.  It was very special to me . . . and I am sure to  all of us."

"Well," said Suzanne, "you can be sure that it won't be our last.  I know we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the future.   Do call me the minute you find out anything.  I'm dying to find out more."

"You can count on it," answered Sean.

"Oh, yes . . . and someday I want to meet that cute little friend of yours, Terran, and his wife.  Don't you forget."

Lorrie and Sean both laughed heartily.  Suzanne would have a ball with Terran.

"I'll see you soon.  Peace be with you both."

"And with you, Suzanne."

Suzanne turned away and went over to say her good-byes to Chancey, then quickly disappeared through the front door.

Lorrie and Sean sat in silence, each running the events of the past few hours over and over in their minds.

Lorrie was the first to break their silence.

"Did I ever show you the pictures of the place I rented for Terran when he was working on the Mawuvia Suite?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh, no . . . .I don't think so."

"Well, it's just the place that Suzanne described.  I think we should give the real estate company a call when we get back to the hotel and see if it's available on such short notice."

Sean looked at his watch.

"Well, if we're going to do that, we better get going.   It's pretty late.  I don't know if anyone will still be there."

He let out a nervous laugh.

"Of course, the way things have been going today, I wouldn't be surprised if the agent was sitting by the phone all day, expecting our call."

"I know what you mean.  I agree.  I think that that place is going to be available for us no matter what."

Sean let out a heavy sigh.

"This has been a most  unusual day."

Lorrie studied her husband's face.  Some of the strain had diminished, but there was still hesitancy in his eyes.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

Sean closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out as he leaned back against the thickly padded booth.

"No, dear heart . . . I'm terrified!!!"