Airinn's Farewell

Airinn sat quietly, or at least as quietly as she could while remembering the music. Her visit to Earth was proving as astounding as she had hoped as she sat in a dark pub with the rain falling heavily outside. The obliging owner had set a fire of 'turf', something that had never occurred to her before. Of course, she had never been cold. Not in a way that these people would understand.

In theory, she was a cultural ambassador from her planet, something very common around here, and anyone that thought differently was keeping quiet about it. She had had an amusing conversation with some dark-suited human that seemed half-afraid that she was here to turn Earth into a copy of herself but was, strangely, half-hoping that she would. A dark smile erupted on her lips. Maybe she would. The planet yearned for life, pushing out the most extraordinary creatures out of blind consequence. She could give it a hint.

The music turned to a low hum as the locals discussed the next tune to play. Now was the time, if Eddie had spoken true. She produced her fiddle, ' Lads, any chance I could play along?'

The table regarded the stunning woman that had been causing quite a lot of comments until they caught her eyes and decided to be on their best behavior. For all that's holy, Sean had lit the fire without a word about the cost. 'You're welcome and more! Name the tune and give Sean a minute to put the pints up. Did you travel far?'

Airinn's grin was quick, ' Aye, a fair haul. I came to say goodbye to a friend. He taught me a few tunes but tonight I'll start with 'Farewell to Eireen' if that's okay?

The men nodded and grimaced, eyebrows rising and falling in the unfathomable human communication that was as strange as their music. ' A grand tune. We'll pick up after you, just to shake the dust of our bones.'

Airinn waited until she had her fresh whiskey and moved to the table, finding room in the shuffle of chairs. When everyone was comfortable and had checked for elbow-room, she began. It was a celebrated tune and it wasn't long before her fellow musicians joined in. She was aware that they gave her the lead so they could decide if she could actually play or was just a tourist hiding from the rain.

Six minutes of ascending beauty sorted that one out. She felt the prayers fill her mind, every note an act of worship. Eddie had, finally, explained that music filled all but the worst with joy and it wasn't religious. Or at least it was only sometimes religious. Airinn had told him he was an idiot. Music was life, joy, pain, birth, and loss. Of course, it was a prayer, just one for the universe in general not some dead statue or a living planet.

Some things are universal, including the urge to worship. Thankfully here it meant Sean brought the table a round on the house. ' Well if that doesn't beat all. Can I get your name?'

Airinn smiled and picked up her Jameson's in salute, 'I'm Airinn. You have a lovely pub here. Glad I found it in this weather.' The company relaxed, glad to have the chance to murmur about the rain for a little, and recover from what they had just experienced. Sean nodded,' Well it's been here long enough and will be here after me. We don't get many travelers this late in the year.' He looked at the rain hammering the window.' For the obvious reason.'

He moved back to the bar,' Carry on, lads. I'm in no hurry.'

The hours passed as the group began to bond and they met the stranger in song. Each and every one of them, if asked, would tell you that you can't lie in music. A proud man carries his own tune, a liar will steal yours. They quickly warmed to this strange girl with the voice of steel and the fingers of an angel.

Another round appeared from the bar.

Out of sheer habit, the musicians began with 'Raglan Road' as Airinn sipped her whiskey. Eddie had sworn blind that it was about her and used to sing it whenever some stupid Xeno annoyed her. She knew the song too well but stayed silent until the second verse to join in. Such a desolate poem, such a beautiful song. Her voice filled with the pain of her loss, the beauty of the life she was here to grieve.

To their credit, the men, all enthusiastic amateurs that played strictly for pleasure and pints recognized the pain and truth in the songs they played. No-one played without a raw nerve or two but this was something more. This was the world itself crying for someone gone, a desolate wife, and an uncomprehending child losing a parent. In the muddied words of a poet came the consolation that grief never found in time.

Airinn lost herself in the song, a eulogy for a heartbeat now stopped. As she closed the song she became aware of the profound silence. The men were wiping their eyes and picking up their glasses. The elderly man that had played the whistle throughout carefully placed it on the table. He looked carefully at Airinn.

'Well, I'll be damned. I don't know who you were singing that for but I can tell you that the stars heard that one.'

Airinn put down her fiddle. 'Sorry lads, I'm here for a funeral. I didn't expect that to hit me so hard. Give me a minute.'

She gathered herself up. 'This is where he learned his tunes. He was born here and he wanted to come back. I would have given him a world but he stopped me. He told me that everything has its time in the sun and I needed to understand that. That grief was a thing worth learning. That you can't enjoy the music if it doesn't have an ending.'

The elderly man laughed,' And that we spend our time running like hell away from it. Lass, we all end and it's never the right time. He's right that the truth is in the song, I'll give him that. Try drawing the same note on that fiddle of yours until the audience screams. Best if you stop when you should' He patted her hand,' Do you mind if I play one in his honor?'

She nodded quickly. He picked up his whistle and began. His friends nodded and joined in but allowed the slow whistle to soar. He smiled up at Airinn,' This one is called 'Midnight Walker'.'

Airinn listened as these strangers took her grief and lifted it and celebrated the life just passed. They hadn't even known Eddie, a man she had held close until he demanded his right to change. She had never questioned her immortality until he had laughed at her offer of forever. That he loved her she had known, but nothing would persuade him to give up his stupid lifespan. Instead, he had given her instructions. She suddenly realized that he had sent her here to learn how to grieve properly, with whiskey, smiles, and tears. The bastard had had the last laugh. She missed him.

No-one wanted the evening to end but, as she remembered that first night that she had met Eddie and made him play long past the time, she put down her fiddle. ' My thanks to you all. If you don't mind I'm going to cheat a bit right now.' She drew in all the DNA from the table searching for a match. The old man with the whistle was a match.

'I forgot to mention that he made a 'Will'. I believe that is the word. He told me I would find his family here or that they wouldn't be worth finding.' She looked at the old man and said ' Your father was a child when Eddie left here, but he sent you this.' She handed him the fiddle and the case. 'And this.' She handed him several million in credit chips. She continued, 'He says buy yourself a drink in his honor. Anyone mind if I sing one more? This was his favorite. She began softly ' My young love said to me,'"My mother won't mind…

The burial took place in an ancient graveyard and under an implacable grey sky. No gentle breezes or soft sunshine, this was a true Irish winter of drizzle and darkness. Aireen watched the confusing ceremony from her place at the front. Suddenly the darker tunes of these people made sense in a way that Eddie’s stories of endless green fields and sunshine never did. This was a country that lived in a cycle of life and death without pause. Around her stood respectful strangers, none of whom had ever met Eddie or heard the strange story of his life but still, they came, unwilling to see a life slip away without a word or grief left lonely. Tonight there would be laughter and memories, whiskey, and song but now was the dark reality of Eddie's choice. One day she might even forgive him for it.

She was far from home but not without power here on Eddie’s ground. She raised a hand and filled the grave with her own soil, soil that had loved him, and would speak to her. The small crowd watched, a little stunned by the small miracle. The Priest glanced at the strange widow of this unknown man, another part of the Earth's great diaspora returning home for the last time. He shook his head. He’d have to explain this to the bishop carefully.