Precious Catastrophe by Deirdre Sullivan

Author:Deirdre Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471410697
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2021-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

33

Ink and Paper

(clarity, recall)

The men pulled it out of the bog yesterday. Tim Collins found it, came back ‘roaring to us’ according to the testimony of them that were there. ‘It looked like nothing at first until we [they] cut down deep.’ Tim Collins was already blessing himself and falling to his knees before they had her out, Paud Collins says. Apparently Tim’s withered hand healed as soon as he put it against the figure. It was at this point that they sought my assistance.

I inspected the figure, but Tim Collins was reluctant to let me take it to the church for further scrutiny. Though I have offered it a home in the chapel, it will remain in his cottage for the moment, as I hesitate to incur the wrath of any member of the Collins family.

The figure itself is of a moderate size – perhaps two, two and a half feet tall – almost entirely pale in colour and made of a substance not unlike driftwood. Alternately warm and cold to the touch, it is curved in form, and unmistakably female. Due to this, and the nature of the possible ‘miracle’, I might assume that it is a religious figure, most likely a representation of Our Lady. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the women of the village seem to have a particular interest in it. Their simple devotion moves me, as it would Our Lady, were she here to see it. And perhaps, I think increasingly, she is.

*

Margaret O’Brien, who seems to make a hobby of thwarting honest people, has been sniffing around the figure. The woman cornered me on my way home from the inspection of the figure with many impertinent questions. Something needs to be done about that creature, and once this business is resolved, I shall make it my highest priority.

*

The figure appeared to me in a dream last night and instructed me to construct a place of prominence within the chapel for her. When I awoke, my room smelled like roses and oil of chrism, and I felt a lightness in my heart and a renewed sense of purpose in my vocation. It is the fondest dream of any servant of Our Lord to be visited in such a way, and I only hope that this humble servant is deserving of such an honour, and up to the task that She herself has set me. Holy Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

*

She is now in place, where she will remain for the foreseeable future. I have made contact with the Bishop, informing him of the incidents that have taken place to date, though I may have to go further still, as he has no great liking for me – the Church has a long memory.

*

She appeared to me in my dreams once more, and asked that candles be lit to her. She told me three secrets but they remain a mystery to my waking self. When I awoke, there were three long grey feathers on my eiderdown, as though from the wings of an angel.

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