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The Strange Disappearance of Kathleen Kilday

Adapted from a transcript of a tale retold by a man in Ireland. Who knows? Maybe it’s true.

By Natalie DemossPublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 5 min read
3
The Strange Disappearance of Kathleen Kilday
Photo by Artem Kniaz on Unsplash

Shadows were beginning to envelop the trees in the thicket across the road as evening set in. Kathleen brushed the hair from her brow with her forearm as she spread the last of the clean clothes over the hedges to dry. Something just out of sight caught her eye. She turned to peer into the trees. A green light blinked in the distance. It moved a bit erratically. What could be making that light?

Kathleen stepped into the ditch and walked across the road before she realized what she was doing. As she neared the tree line, she noticed more and more of those lights flitting about the forest. The curious woman kept walking, her feet taking her into the trees unbidden. She seemed to walk for ages. Suddenly the noises in the woods changed. The insects, the birds, everything sounded different, foreign. She looked down and saw that she was standing within a circle of mushrooms. It was a fairy circle.

Sunset brought darkness, making it nearly impossible to see. The green lights were more vivid in the blackness. In the distance, she heard people calling out to her. The yellow-white light of a lantern came into sight. Her eldest son, Patrick, held the light. He was calling frantically for her. She called back to him, reaching out as he ran by. He never even saw her. The fact that no one knew she was there made her fearful, but still, she kept walking.

Her feet began to hurt. And she walked on. The lights came nearer now and resolved themselves into sprites. The flying beings had tiny human bodies with delicate wings. She could hear the sounds of creatures of various sizes moving about. Kathleen pulled her shawl more tightly around hers. Not because she was cold but because it gave her the feeling of some layer of protection.

When the sun rose, her feet were bleeding. Even if they would let her stop, she was wary of laying down to take some rest. A noise to her left had her turning her head. Little Tommy O’Malley was standing there smiling at her. But Tommy had died of consumption some ten years ago. Here he was standing in the flesh and bone. She made the sign of the cross. His arm lifted, holding a juicy apple out to her. Kathleen hesitated. She was so hungry. But everyone knew you should never eat food offered by the fairy folk. You would never be able to leave the fairylands if you did. She shook her head and continued moving. Hunger was nothing new to her, not with the blight on the potatoes. She picked berries from the bushes as she walked. Huge sweet strawberries. Plump tart blueberries. Every kind of berry one could imagine, even berries not native to Ireland.

As she walked, she saw others who had gone before her. Maggie Murphy, a childhood friend who drowned when they were young. Mickey Ryan, an older man who had wandered off in a snowstorm. Charlie O’Brien, a young man from the village who had tried to avenge the death of his brother at the hands of the British. Every one of them offered her some type of food, which she declined.

Eventually, Kathleen stopped, falling to her knees and then the rest of the way to the ground. Something felt different again. She could hear children playing nearby.

“Sir.” A child’s voice shrieked. “There’s a woman down the way. She’s fallen.” Shortly afterward, a man in teacher’s robes came to her, lifting her into his arms while directing one of the older boys to fetch the doctor. She was having trouble speaking. He took her into the schoolhouse, Linduff School, and set her down in a chair.

“You aren’t from around here.” The teacher said. “Where is your home?”

When she finally found her voice, it was raspy. “From Coney, down Ballisodare way.”

“How do you come to be here?”

“Maybe she was kidnapped by some of those bloody British soldiers and ran away from them. Ran till her feet bled.” One of the boys said.

“That’s enough out of you, Johnny.” He reprimanded. “Sam, take your horse and ride down to Coney and bring her husband back. What’s his name?”

“Michael. Michael Kilday.” She said with a sob.”

“Ah, here’s the doctor now.”

“So, were you kidnapped?” Johnny asked before skirting away from a slap from his teacher.

“No. Yes. I think I was abducted, not by the soldiers. It was the fairies.”

Several children watched in fascination as the doctor wrapped her raw and bloodied feet. Kathleen knew they thought she was speaking nonsense, but she told her tale anyway.

She could hear the sound of a wagon pulling up. There was a pounding of feet on the stairs before Michael and Patrick burst into the room. Colleen followed shortly after, throwing herself into her mother’s arms. Ann and Mary joined their younger sister to huddle around Kathleen.

“Kathleen, what happened? Where have you been? How did you get here? We feared you were dead.”

“Dead? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.”

“Hours? Luv, you’ve been gone for three weeks.”

“Three weeks?! How is that even possible? I only saw one sunset. One sunrise.”

“Never mind. Maureen is watching the little ones. We should get home before the twins wreak too much havoc on her. You can tell us about it on the way home.”

Kathleen found herself telling her tale to her family and to then her friends and neighbors. The next day Father Brennan arrived.

“Kathleen, my child. You must not tell these tales. To speak of such things is sacrilege. It will bring hellfire and damnation upon you and your family.”

“But…”

“It was just a fanciful dream. We’ll speak no more of it.”

“Yes, Father.”

Kathleen never mentioned what happened again. That didn’t stop their neighbors from talking. They never said anything to her face, but the villagers thought she was off her rocket. Things were not improving in Ireland. People were starving to death. Within a year, they had sold their home and most of their possessions. They boarded a ship in Liverpool and set sail for America. They were going somewhere where they would have a chance to remake their lives. Somewhere new, and her secret would be safe. No one would know that she had once walked with the fairies and been lucky enough to return.

Short Story
3

About the Creator

Natalie Demoss

Single mom to an Autistic child and budding author and artist finally following my dreams. The hand drawn art on my stories is my own.

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