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I knew in these parts was Arthur Hamilton, Clifford’s father. I live among peasants, Padraig. Good people—salt of the Earth in fact—but peasants nevertheless. I’ll miss them when I die and I’ll miss my wine just as much.”
“Why all this talk of dying, Finn?” Padraig asked with concern.
Finn stared intently, thoughtfully, at the young priest, his adopted son become a stranger. He seemed to be reaching a decision. “You’re a man of the cloth, Padraig. As the saying goes. It should apply to dishwashers, I’ve often thought. Anyway, given your new station in life, I think I can tell you.” He paused again, sipped his wine, and said, “I’m not only ailing, Padraig. The truth is, I’m dying.”
A sudden blow to the mouth from Finn’s big fist would have caused less shock to Padraig. His body stiffened in the chair; his usually pale face turned white as milk; his eyes panicked. Words failed him.
Finn smiled ruefully. “It came as a shock to me too, Padraig. And yet why should it? I’m an old man. I have already passed the midnight age of three score years and ten and I’m going to change into a pumpkin. According to Dr Starkey I probably don’t have a lot of time left. The chimes of midnight have begun to ring, and I’m waiting for the first stroke of the hour before I suffer my sea-change. It’s leukaemia, Padraig. My blood’s gone sour like milk left out too long in the sun.” Finn grinned. “The story of my life, Padraig. Too long in the sun. Now there’s nothing to do but accept the inevitable and drink to the life going out as one drinks to the old year.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Padraig had opened his mouth at the shock of Finn’s announcement, as one does when doused unexpectedly with icy water, and the words had simply fallen out themselves. They were hardly the words he would have chosen had he had any control over his momentarily numbed brain. That Finn MacLir was facing death was hard to believe.
“No, there’s nothing anyone can do,” Finn said. “All that’s left to me is to live until the chiming stops. And enjoy it. After all, these are the most precious days of my life, aren’t they? So why be morbid. I’ve lived a good life, lived it well, filled it full and drunk it dry. Right to the last drop. I regret nothing. I fear nothing. Caitlin and Jinnie have the farm and the fishing boat. They’ll sell the boat, I’m sure. Joe Carney’ll buy it from them. Michael would never go to sea. Anyway, they’re all provided for. None of them knows, of course. I couldn’t stand that. As for me, I need nothing more. My bags are packed and I’m ready to go. I’ve done a full day’s work and it’s late and getting dark and I’m tired. My light is almost out.”
Libros Libertad 