He chose to spend this day investigating the seashore itself. Taking food with him for an all-day trek, he climbed down the cliff. Following the rocks for several miles, he finally came upon a narrow beach in a tiny bay. The ocean wind was cold, but he found a place among the rocks where the wind did not blow and the sun shown warmly. There he napped in the late morning sun.
Sometime later he woke to the sound of an engine. Pulling further behind the rocks, he peered out into the bay and saw a small boat. On board were a man and a woman and three children. The man was at the controls of the craft while his wife and children pulled fishing gear from someplace behind him. For a moment, Vincent feared they would comeashore, but when he realized their only interest was in fishing, he fishing trip she had shared with her father.
After a while, the family reeled in their lines and ate lunch. Vincent ate a wedge of cheese and a piece of dried fruit as he watched them. Soon the boat motor came to life again, and the family's craft moved beyond the mouth of the bay and out of sight.
Following their departure, Vincent took pleasure in combing the beach and in watching gulls scold and dive at each other as they fought over bits of fish and sea life. It was an afternoon which needed only Catherine to become truly perfect.
The evening found Vincent in the woods above his cave. As darkness fell, he thought again of the owl. The bird would be back...he was certain of it. And when it came he would find it. There might never in his life be another opportunity such as this, and he would not let it slip away.
Hours passed as he strode through the shadows into places so dark an ordinary man would have been unable to see. Still there was no sign of the owl.
Vincent again turned his attention to the stars. He wondered if Father had ever seen them so bright. Constellations he had only read about were obvious in the clear cold sky.
For a moment his heart ached with the need to show these stars to Catherine. The thought of her beside him in this place filled him with warmth, but then Father's frown darkened the dream, and Vincent could feel Catherine pulling away.
It was then he heard it. Very far away, off toward the hill to the south, an owl gave its ghostly cry twice. Vincent came to his feet and started in the direction of the call. Every few minutes he stopped to listen. It came again much closer this time, but when he turned to seek it out, it was gone. Moments later he heard it far behind him. He changed his direction, and then the call came from the north. For long minutes he played the game of tag, never any nearer, never finding the mysterious bird. When he at last realized the mission was hopeless, he sat down hoping to at least catch a glimpse of the bird as it flew from one tree to the next.
There were no more calls, and when it was almost dawn, he regretfully abandoned his mission and started back to the cave. Maybe the next night... He would try again. He climbed down to his shelter and stirred the ashes of his fire. There was no warmth left there, so he wrapped his cloak about him, and sat near the entrance anticipating the sunrise.
Suddenly he was astonished as he looked out the mouth of the cave. He saw the owl. It sat upon a gnarled branch, just beyond the entrance. Wise yellow eyes met his own, unblinking, and without fear. Vincent did not dare to breathe. For long moments they gazed at each other, then Vincent came to his feet and walked slowly toward the great bird. When he was just feet from it, it spread its enormous wings and lifted itself up past the ridge and into a tree above. Vincent followed, unwilling to lose the beautiful sight. At last he stood directly beneath the owl's perch, and to his astonishment, the bird glided down to within ten feet of him and perched on a log which had fallen across the path. It watched him for long minutes as Vincent stood in silence. And then, without any motion at all, the bird communicated with him. "'Tis far you are from home."
Vincent stepped back in shock. He snatched his hood up over his head and looked about for the source of the words, then he stared back at the bird. It spoke again. "You needn't looked so startled. A bein' such as yourself has no business bein' surprised at the likes of me."
Vincent frowned. "What are you?"
"Don't alarm yourself...Sure, and you must know you are dreamin'."
"Dreaming?"
"Aye, darlin'. We seem to have some sort of business, you and I."
Vincent could remember sitting comfortably in the cave minutes ago, but this image was so real it seemed more than a dream. "What do you want of me?"
"Well, considerin' this is your dream...it would seem more fittin' to ask what you want of me."
"I am dreaming of you because of the fable."
The bird blinked. "Aye, that would seem reasonable. In the fable the children were seeking answers. What answers are you seeking?"
"No." Vincent was not going to become a willing participant in such vivid dreams again. He was certain he was asleep, and if he tried hard enough, he could wake himself and bring this apparition to an end. He shook his head violently, but when he stopped, the bird was still there.
"Ah, lad. Would it be easier for you if I changed?" The owl turned its back to Vincent and brought its wings up into a forward motion that hid its face. Then suddenly the wings came back...no longer wings, but now a feathered cape. And where there had been an owl, there was now a woman...small and delicate with brilliant auburn hair. When she straightened and turned, her face was hidden in the deep shadows. Her hand extended to him, and Vincent knew who she must be.
"You are the Owl Woman."
"Come walk with me in the moonlight, Vincent."
"You know my name."
"Well, that is hardly surprisin'." She took his hand, and he felt almost nothing there for his fingers to hold. She was as fragile and illusive as moonlight, and as she stepped out in front of him he could swear she had to work to keep her feet in contact with the forest floor beneath her. He followed, letting her choose the direction they walked. She brought him through the trees to the edge of an open meadow. There in the moonlight she turned to look up at him, and he saw her clearly.
It was a face he had seen before. "Your face is in the book."
"300 Days" ...aye."
"Are you Brigit O'Donnell?"
"Part of me is herself...and part of me is what you need me...and her...to be."
"I don't understand."
She released his hand and walked into the meadow alone. Again her feet left the ground, and she fluttered her cape gently in a motion that brought her to the earth. She turned to him. "Vincent, why haven't you read the book?"
He cocked his head at her. "The book?"
"300 Days". 'Tis not such a long story, I'm thinkin'. Catherine gave it to you over two months ago...You, who reads everything. And you leave it to sit, waitin' for you to open its pages. Catherine read it twice, you know. And you...you have heard only a paragraph or two."
"I do not remember."
"You were very sick when she read it to you. It's not surprisin' you don't remember." She found a fallen log in the clearing and sat herself upon it, spreading her wide skirts and her cape about her. Then she looked up at him and frowned. "Or maybe it's that you don't want to remember. You lied to her, you know."
"I lied? To whom?"
"Come, sit." She indicated a spot in the grasses in front of her. Vincent sat at her feet. "Now I'm not faultin' you for it. It's not like it was in exactly those words, but you let her think what was not so."
"Owl Woman, you talk in riddles."
She reached out and touched his face, stroking his cheek with a touch he could barely feel. "Darlin' Vincent." She smiled at him with a strange sadness in her eyes. After a long moment she sighed, "'Twas Catherine. It was Catherine you lied to when you led her to believe you were not afraid."
He frowned at her severely, and she brought her other hand to his face. She ran her thumbs along his high cheek bones. "You were so offended when she doubted your courage... and there you were...the whole time... terrified of it beyond imagination."
"It?"
"Well, it starts with Father's warnin', but mostly I mean the book."
"Brigit's book." It was half statement, half question.
She sighed again and sat up straight. "Must I be explainin' every detail? Vincent, you know more about the book than you're admittin'. You know Brigit writes of forbidden love. And 'tis very much afraid you are that she will be another person tellin' you that the love you share with Catherine is a mistake...but you are thinkin' her judgment would carry a special sting because she has lived through what you and Catherine are just beginnin'."
He started to say something, but she put her finger to his lips and shook her head. "As I think on it, you told yourself an even bigger lie than the one you told to Catherine. You think you have come all this long way to make a choice...to choose between Above and Below. But what you do not realize is that you have already made that choice...when you stood in the thunder and lightnin'. You knew then you would be goin' Above." She sighed. "No, lad. That's only the half of it. As Father said, the real choosin' is of a much dearer thing. It's Catherine you came to me about."
Vincent lowered his gaze, and she brought his chin back up with her touch. "We both know Catherine is in your heart, and there is never a chance that you could be removin' her...but you've summoned up the Owl Woman. So are you askin' me if lovin' her is a mistake?"
"Father says it is."
She nodded. "Father is a wise man. In the past he has rarely told you wrong."
"Are you saying he is right now?"
"Darlin', you know you are goin' back to your lady. What you're seekin' now is nothin' more than reassurance. And why do you worry so about what other people say? Why must you try to follow your head, when it's your heart that must do the leadin'?" She stood up and brought him to his feet with her look. "Come, you have waited too long already." She walked away from him in the direction of the cave.
Vincent stood for a moment watching her, then he stepped quickly to catch up. "Waited too long?"
"You have readin' to do. Go and read the book. And then if your heart still needs answers perhaps you need to be talkin' to Brigit herself."
He put a hand on her shoulder. "To Brigit? How can that be?"
She laid a cheek on his hand, then pulled back from him. "Don't you remember? She's comin' over the ocean. Vincent, my darlin'...find her for yourself." As she spoke, she slipped farther back into the shadows, and with a rustle of leaves and feathers she was gone. Vincent stared blankly at the spot where she had been. Then he felt the rush of air as a great owl circled over his head and flew off toward the moon.