alright, alright, alright! here ya go, you impatient little.... i mean, here you are, my dear readers!Chapter 24
Three days left. I was kicking myself for even starting this stupid mental countdown, but as I awoke the morning of the festival, there it was, as loud and as strong as ever.
On the long car ride to the festival with Keith, all I could think about was how great today would be. I’d always loved carnivals and festivals back home, but this one was Irish, and it was with Damian. How awesome would that be?
We chatted occasionally on the trip there, which was a lot longer than I expected. It was nearly ten o’clock when we arrived, and we left at nine! When we pulled up, however, I realized that it was worth the wait. A huge fairground was filled with hundreds of white tents that had various scents coming from them. I saw a kettle corn tent and an ice cream tent just pulling up. What other goodies lay hidden among the field of tents?
Since I had come with Keith, I agreed to help him carry his guitar and speakers and whatever else he had in his trunk to the stage. I had no idea that it would be so heavy, or that the stage would be so far!
Halfway there, however, a pair of strong arms was suddenly lifting a heavy box out from under my right arm, and I turned and saw Damian walking alongside me.
“Hey,” he said.
“Morning,” I said, relieved that we could finally start our day together.
“What’s even in this?” Damian asked, nodding his head at the box.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Probably hundreds of dollars’ worth of hair-care products.” We laughed, and continued to make our way to the stage.
Once we bade Keith farewell and took off on our own to wander the huge fairgrounds, it was nearly eleven o’clock, and the hot sun made an appearance for a nice summer day. There were already a lot of people there; there were families with young children, young couples, like Damian and myself, groups of people, elderly couples, and plenty of adults looking for friends.
We walked down a long stretch of tents, each displaying different items, like a small station for kids’ arts and crafts, a jewelry place with beads and silver as far as the eye could see, the kettle corn tent I saw earlier, a tent selling cleaning supplies, another for musical things, like sheet music and records and instrument accessories, and a booth with traditional Irish things, like Claddagh rings and Irish knot designs. And, of course, there was a tent for football.
“Ooh, look at this,” I showed Damian, picking up a Claddagh ring with my birthstone in the heart. “It’s so pretty.”
I continued to marvel at the craftsmanship of the beaded jewelry and very Celtic-looking decorations at two of the tents while Damian was anxious to get to the football tent.
“Alright, alright, that’s nice, let’s go!” he urged, and I followed him and his childish excitement into the tent with a chuckle. I swear, he was like a little kid in a candy shop!
After a while in there, I walked out to find some water or lemonade; all the heat from the sun and the crowd was getting to me. I luckily found a stand not far from the soccer tent, and paid for a large lemonade.
As I turned back to drag Damian out of there, an upbeat, wordless, instrumental music caught my ear, and I wondered where it was coming from. It wasn’t from a CD or anything, since I couldn’t see any speakers nearby. Abandoning thought of the soccer tent, the enchanting music seemed to hypnotize me and led my feet toward its source. Taking a few slow steps around the other side of the lemonade stand, I heard the music grow a little louder, a new, stomping sound with it. What was the pounding sound? Not a drum…ah, dancers. I hurriedly followed the new sounds and saw a lovely scene before me.
Not as large as the stage where Keith would sing shortly, a stage and large dance floor were stationed in the middle of a few rows of tents. Musicians were playing drums of all sorts, whistles, recorders, pipes, guitars, bagpipes, and other stringed, woodwind, or brass instruments for which I had no name. The dance on the floor was mesmerizing. Clearly a partner dance, it was upbeat and un-choreographed, just a pure expression of joy and energy. At first, from the pounding I heard before, it was a show of some kind, dancers showing off their talent, but that was not the case at all; people of all ages were jumping, twirling, and moving to the music. The dance didn’t seem that hard to learn, seeing as most of the partners, held in a casual pose, skipped and danced around the floor. Then, at some sound that a musician made either with his instrument or voice, they changed partners quickly, only to begin again.
It looked like tons of fun.
But, as my phone buzzed from my pocket, an alarm reminding me that Keith would start singing any minute, it would have to wait.
I found Damian back at the football tent and reminded him that Keith would be on soon. He agreed, and we set off, slurping down the remaining lemonade as we went.
When we finally arrived in front of the stage, Keith was singing a song I did not recognize, but enjoyed nonetheless. Some people I’d never seen before were playing instruments behind him as he strummed on his guitar, like the drums and guitar and keyboard. Together, they all created a nice sound, and I hoped they would play more than just the one song.
As it happened, they played five. Some of the noise from the crowd distracted from my understanding of the words of the songs, but, from what I heard, they were wonderful. Halfway through the second song, we bumped into Ryan, who also seemed to be enjoying the music.
When the five songs were over, Keith and the other performers left the stage to a huge round of applause, and Damian, Ryan, and I shuffled out of the crowed back toward the rows of tents.
“I was just about to grab a quick lunch…you coming?” Ryan asked us.
“Sure,” replied Damian, and my growling stomach easily agreed.
Keith joined us as we sat down to eat, and we all offered words of congratulations and praise.
“Was one of those songs the one you were working on the other day?” I asked him. One sounded familiar, and I guess it was because I heard him strumming some chords and humming some melody at his house a few days before.
“Yeah, the last one!” he said enthusiastically. “I had to hurry up and pick another one, so I was writing like mad for a few days there. It’s actually a funny story…”
We exchanged several funny stories, and after that long lunch with Ryan, Keith, and Damian, I found myself enjoying the day more than I would have thought possible.
Until Ryan brought up the same sore subject everyone kept asking about.
“So, how did you get here?” he asked, since our feeble explanation had not been enough for him yesterday.
“Well…” began Damian, and I could tell that the idea of me leaving was still kind of a sore spot.
“Damian and I made these plans that I would visit Oxford with my mom,” I said, “And after we saw the college, I…I sort of – um – kind of ditched my mom at the airport and ran off to stay with my friend Mack. She’s on a trip to tour Europe with our class. Anyway, I stayed with her while she was in England and Ireland, and now I’m bunking on Keith’s couch,” I nodded at him,”‘Til I go back home.”
“Which is…when exactly? How long have you been here?” Ryan asked, sounding a little more critical of our plan than Keith did.
“It’s already been about two weeks. And, I’m, uh, leaving in, like, 3 days,” I choked out.
“Mhmm.” Ryan was thoughtful for a minute. “Do your parents know about this ‘plan’?”
“Not really,” Damian answered. “My mum doesn’t know anything about it, but Abby’s mum does.”
“She’s not too happy about it,” I interjected as Ryan looked like he was going to say something. “But I’m just gonna deal with that when I have to. In the meantime…” I changed the subject, desperate to talk about anything else except my pending departure and encounter with my parents.
“In the meantime,” Damian continued, “We’re gonna walk around the festival a bit. Are you guys staying much longer?”
“Probably,” said Ryan. “I drove all the way here, I’d might as well stay for most of the festival! But I-”
“And I’m meeting up with some friends in a little bit, so maybe I’ll see you two around,” answered Keith.
“But Damian, Abby, there’s som-” Ryan said.
“See ya later!” Damian cut him off, and we stood, threw away our trash, and walked away.
“Hey, he still had something to say to us,” I said to Damian, trying to turn back around.
“Nah,” he said, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me back toward him. “It’s probably not important.”
I shrugged and accepted this answer, however weak it was, and we continued our day together.
so this was a pretty long update, and just be warned, the next one won't be as long! but itll still be a good one. we're nearing the end of my story, and therefore the end of hte series! but more of that for a later time.... reply reply reply and comment comment comment!