Mo Laethanta Saoire: A tale of adventure in an old theme park

In the latest of our series of summer-themed reads, emerging Cork author Louise Hegarty spins a tale of adventure in an old theme park

MARY

Even though Mary had her doubts about visiting the abandoned theme park she didn’t want to say anything because she was the only girl. When she arrived at the meeting point Christopher and Tommy were already there. Paudie pointedly was not. The two just nodded at her, scuffed their shoes off the wall they were sitting on and offered her some chewing gum.

She was angry at Paudie for being late. He always did this: chose the meeting place and time and then turned up late anyway. When he did arrive, he didn’t even say sorry. He had found a secret way to get into the park. They would have to go through the woods but Paudie assured them that there was no need to worry as it was just a short walk. Leaves rustled, birds cawed, twigs snapped.

Amongst the trees Mary spotted a fresh wolf trap. She felt for the shiv strapped to her calf and remembered what her father had taught her. At the boundary of the park the chain link fence had been cut and pulled apart at its seams and so the four of them squeezed through easily. Paudie produced a tattered brochure - a charity shop find - from his back pocket and unfolded it.

He started to read: “Welcome to the award-winning Great Irish Experience living museum. With over 50 acres of land there is plenty to do for all ages. Immerse yourself in the stories of the former inhabitants, experience local craftspeople at work and if you’re lucky you might even get an invitation to dine with them. Join a céilí (each afternoon at 4pm, also Sundays at 2pm), attend mass or enjoy a real-life lock-in at one of our fourteen pubs.

“With our state-of-the art weather centre we can ensure a steady mist throughout your visit in order that you can experience the true Ireland. We even have our own simulated Night of the Big Wind for you to enjoy (see website for dates and further details…”

PAUDIE

They tramped through fields and inspected the remains of an old woolen mills. They found rusted goal posts and broken bleachers. They explored the ruins of the castle and even dipped their toes into the man-made lake. “That used to be the visitors centre,” Paudie said. “I think there should be a small church around here as well”.

He rubbed his upper arm where it was hurting him; there would be a bruise there tomorrow. There was only one building that was still completely intact: a B&B. “It’s like my granny’s house,” Christopher said. Mary inspected the visitors’ book and started calling out names: Mr and Mrs Briggs from Massachusetts, the Chevalier family from France, Margaret Burnham from Leeds etc. “Did you hear that?” Tommy asked. “It’s probably just some birds on the roof,” said Christopher. “No, really did you hear that?” This time Mary had heard it too. There was a shuffling and then footsteps on the stairs.

Suddenly a man appeared rubbing his eyes and smoothing his hair. He didn’t seem too surprised to see them. He was dressed in brown tarnished boots and a jacket made of lupine skin. It was obvious to everyone who he was: a wolf-hunter. He pushed past them and then went to a cupboard, opened it and took out a metal box. Inside was a small flask and a carefully wrapped sandwich. He sat at the counter and proceeded to eat.

“I’ve never met an actual wolf-hunter before,” said Mary. “What’s the biggest wolf you’ve killed?” Tommy asked. The wolf-hunter shrugged, took a drink from the flask and said, “had one once, maybe 50 kilos: the Great Grey Wolf of the Midlands - Airitech. Apparently, it even snatched children.” “Do you have a gun?” “I have a gun, a knife. Mainly we put out traps though. It’s safer for us that way.” They continued to ask him questions while he finished his lunch.

“Make sure to be home before dusk,” he warned as he left.

“Maybe we should go,” Tommy said. “We still have plenty of time.” Paudie took out the map. “Let’s go to the fairy fort.” He didn’t want to go home. Not yet.

Louise Hegarty is a writer from Cork, and has previously been published in The Stinging Fly, and on BBC radio 

CHRISTOPHER

Mary was looking at the wolf-hunter in a weird sort of way. She kept touching her hair. Christopher thought the whole thing was stupid. His father had told him that he had never seen a wolf and that the whole was a conspiracy by the government and did you notice that all these hunters were foreign anyway?

This trip hadn’t been as fun as Christopher had thought it would be. He hated maps and being told what to do. He had hoped they might get into some trouble. That it might have been an adventure. The grass had grown high around the fairy fort but you could still see the outline. Mary was carefully walking down the slope towards the others. Christopher put out a hand to help but she didn’t see it. He snatched it back quickly.

Mary was inspecting the brochure with Paudie again. Why was she always talking to Paudie? She had taken his chewing gum from him earlier and had smiled and it had been nice. He kicked a sheep’s skull and then laid down on the grass. “I don’t think this is a real fairy fort,” Tommy said.

“None of them are real,” Christopher replied. He could see Mary and Paudie through the blades of grass.

“It’s cold,” Tommy said, “and it’s getting dark. We should go.” “We’ll be fine,” said Paudie.

“But the wolf-hunter said…” “Ah, never mind that wolf-hunter,” said Christopher sitting up. “What does he know?” “He knows a lot about wolves,” Mary said. “And he must know about nature and geography and whatever.” “He’s a fake. You could smell the drink off him. You didn’t believe him, did you?” “Yes, I did.” Christopher leaned back on his elbows. “Maybe that act works on girls.” Mary’s cheeks were a little pink. “I’m not really having fun anymore,” she said and then set off towards the gap in the fence. “What did you do that for?” asked Paudie as he went to follow her. Christopher shrugged. He didn’t really know.

TOMMY

Every snap of a twig made Tommy turn. He hurried to stay close to the others. He shouldn’t have come out. This wasn’t him. He wished he weren’t always so scared. He wanted to have adventures, but he was always getting in his own way.

Christopher was in a bad mood. Probably didn’t like how closely Mary and Paudie were walking together. He needn’t worry; Paudie had other things on his mind. There was another noise: more obvious this time. It sounded like a growl and when he looked to where it had come from, he spotted two glowing eyes in the darkness.

He couldn’t find his voice. The wolf moved forward slowly. He gasped. He flailed. And then finally some guttural noises were released from him. The wolf leapt. It was closest to Paudie who fell back. The animal was on top of him and its teeth clenched on Paudie’s arm. Without thinking, Tommy punched the wolf in the side of the head. It retreated momentarily, releasing Paudie from its grip, but it growled again and came at them once more.

Mary had her knife in her hand. She was frantic. The wolf lunged at her and she swiped her knife at it, tearing its flesh. It whimpered and then growled. “Get behind me,” Mary said to the others.

The wolf lunged at her again. She yelled out and then plunged her knife into the side of its neck. She continued to plunge her knife into its flesh until it was no more. There was a rustling behind them, and everyone turned: the wolf-hunter. He went to the wolf and placed a hand on its pelt.

“You did a good job,” he said. “You know there are some female wolf-hunters. You should consider it.” He saw that Paudie was in pain and so he took some gauze from his pocket and tied it tightly around his wound. Then he scooped up the body of the dead wolf and went back towards the park. Christopher couldn’t think of anything to say. Mary returned her shiv to its holster.

“C’mon,” Tommy said finally. “Let’s go home.”

• Louise Hegarty is a writer from Cork