The Star of the County Down. Part 2

[KB.]

Part 2 - Read part one first, I know, I know, but you would be surprised.



As Sophie took her seat she pulled out a cigarette and I managed to maintain myself long enough to light it for her. She asked where I was from and I found out she had been born and raised right in Algiers; she had never been outside of the state. She was twenty four to my twenty. Her mother was Creole; French father Jamaican mother. Her father was straight off of the boat Irish from a little county called Waterford on the Eastern coast.

She had been married once at seventeen to a "worthless man with no imagination." She was divorced by twenty; three years too late. By this point in time I had been to California, Arizona, and a few various other places. Never lived in any of them but had seen enough I could pass it off as I had. I told her my story about the best southern food I had ever had being in a diner located a few hours from the California coast. I guess that would make the first time we met, Sophie and I, the summer of '97. She asked if I had a gypsy soul. (Pay attention that's part of the Van Morrison right there). I laughed a little and told her I was just restless; that I didn't much care for the idea of "roots". She simply replied that I had a gypsy soul then.

Forgive the forthcoming clichés; Sophie drank like a fish, cursed like a sailor, and smoked like a freight train. She was perfect; an absolute angel. I've said it before and I will say it again, "Sinners make the best saints."

The small talk was getting a little bigger and the night was becoming morning. I wasted the money I spent on that hotel room in Covington. She took me home, and we stretched out on her roof as the sun and the thick heat rose above the dirty Mississippi river. We drank Jim Beam, yellow label; rye whiskey. The woman had taste. As the humidity started to beat us into submission she started to sing, "The Star of the County Down", she said it was her father's favorite song, and that Van Morrison did a wonderful version of it. Van doesn't have sh!t on Sophie. We had been talking for few hours and although it has happened so many times I still find it amazing that so much could be talked about so easily with someone I had just met. We climbed back in through her bedroom window and took a cold shower before we grudingly let sleep come over us.

She was still singing when I drifted away.

I woke up late that afternoon to the smell of lemon and fresh boiled crab. She had made a nice summer dish, not too spicy, not too hot, just chilled freshly boiled crab meat, a lemon based dressing for a simple mixed greens salad, and unsweetened tea. I had told her I was diabetic, and like most good drunks do, she remembered. She said grace. She also believed in Voodoo.

After we finished eating we walked to the ferry and took my car back across that great lake into Covington to the hotel. I picked up my suitcase, checked out two days early, and we headed back to her place. She told me there was no reason to spend the remaining two days in New Orleans alone, and I wasn't about to argue. The next forty odd hours were splendid, nothing physical involved beyond some quiet kisses and two people trying not to melt as the got as close to each other as physics would allow.

We listened to music. I listened to her sing. We wandered around when the sun set as we cooled ourselves by drinking tropical drinks. We paused to soak in what ever melodies came through the night.

I found out her mother and father had been dead for almost three years. Both killed in a car crash. Drunk driver; her father. She was the last one left. I asked her why she picked me of all the people to sit down next to that night, a perfect stranger. She turned those wet green eyes in my direction and told me that when she started singing "Willow Weep for Me", that I looked like I only wanted to tell her it would be alright, even when I didn't know what was wrong. I did and it didn't matter. The reason was an after thought, the sound in her voice as she sang about what that reason did to her made me want to keep her safe and I didn't even know who she was. It is a fatal flaw I suppose.

As I left the next day I got her address and told her I would write. She said she would read, and look forward to it, but that she doubted she would write back. She didn't have a phone; she hadn't had one since she had been called late one night to go and identify the bodies of her parents. She did give me a number where I could call and get in touch with her if I really needed to, and she got my number and promised to call me once in awhile.

She sang me one last song as I tried to douse the heat with the remainder of that unsweetened tea. She sang "Into the Mystic" and I found myself day dreaming of my next trip to New Orleans.





"And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home

And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it

I don't have to fear it

I want to rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old"



I've got about seven years left of this story, like I said be virtuous. Those seven years include a six inch scar on my left arm, more Cajun food, some Voodoo, an illegal bottle of Poitin (Irish moonshine, Google it), and more Van Morrison.



KB



Into The Mystic:



The Star of the County Down:

[Kathy Ellen]

Hi KB,

This is Kathy Ellen. Sorry that I have not really met you before to say hello. Just wanted you to know that I've just come home from having a grand auld time at my local pub and found your thread "Star of the County Down." Wow, thanks very much for making me cry.... Van Morrison and the Chieftons together singing my uncle/godfather's song "County Down."

Haven't read your story yet...just wanted to thank you for some wonderful memories. How did you find this song? It's a treasure that I'm not sure many Americans might know....not sure.

Seriously, how do you know that song:-4

I'm going to read your story now. Where is part 1

[KB.]

Kathy Ellen;685425 wrote: Hi KB,

This is Kathy Ellen. Sorry that I have not really met you before to say hello. Just wanted you to know that I've just come home from having a grand auld time at my local pub and found your thread "Star of the County Down." Wow, thanks very much for making me cry.... Van Morrison and the Chieftons together singing my uncle/godfather's song "County Down."

Haven't read your story yet...just wanted to thank you for some wonderful memories. How did you find this song? It's a treasure that I'm not sure many Americans might know....not sure.

Seriously, how do you know that song:-4

I'm going to read your story now. Where is part 1


It's right nest to part two. Willow Weep for me. Read that story and then this one and you will find out where I found the song. Van's version was first released in '88.

[Kathy Ellen]

KB.;685434 wrote: It's right nest to part two. Willow Weep for me. Read that story and then this one and you will find out where I found the song. Van's version was first released in '88.


Honey, I know all about Van Morrison and will definitely look into your first story

about Sophia.

Thank you for this treasure. You really made me cry tonight thinking about my family's Irish songs, lost love and VAN MORRISON.....