*
Mr. and Mrs. Halloran sat at the kitchen table with Billy, Adam, and Denis. The son, Christy, moved about, fixing tea and a plate of biscuits and sandwiches. Billy felt no appetite. Several photographs of the deceased children stood on display, alongside the lineup of sympathy cards, and the scatter of burnt-down candles and holy medals in plastic pouches. A set of brown rosary beads hung from a nail next to the door, the dye faded in places from pure use.
Billy pulled himself back to the chat at the table. Despite the nerve-wracking reminders all around them, the pleasantries and conversation went on almost like normal—about the weather, the recession, the empty, unfinished housing estates, and the mass exodus of emigrants. Talk of all the young people leaving Ireland and of the ghost housing estates made for slippery subjects, though, and the chat and forced laughter started to strain. A frantic need to get out of there and home to his own family seized Billy.
“You’re some man, to do all you’re doing, and to be able to go on television and say all you said, too,” Mrs. Halloran, Beth, said with admiration.
Billy held her kind gaze, trying to put into his face all the thanks and sympathy he felt.
“Wasn’t he, Liam?” she said.
“He was,” Mr. Halloran said.
“Liam,” Billy said. “That was Michael’s second name.”
Beth and Liam smiled sadly. Then Beth managed, “We named our Rosie after my mother, and our John after Liam’s father.”
“That’s right,” Liam said, nodding sadly.
“My second son is named John,” Billy said, realizing too late it was a thoughtless comeback. Beth and Liam stared.
Christy stood leaning against the range, his eyes darting about the group. Billy recognized the mounting agitation in the young man, that crazed need to do something to relieve all the ugly brewing inside. They should leave, and let these poor people get on with trying to put themselves back together.
Christy lunged at Adam, slapping at his camera. “Turn that thing off!”
Adam checked the camera, its red record light still on, and then glared at Christy. “Do you have any idea what this is worth?”
“That’s it.” Billy placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to standing. “We’ve taken up enough of your time and hospitality, thank you. We’ll get going. And again I’m sorry, this is all a misunderstanding. Our intentions are only good, I promise you, but I see of course it’s too soon, too much. We shouldn’t have come. It’s just we’re desperate to stop suicide—”
“Are you for real?” Christy sneered. “Why don’t you go ahead and stop cancer, then, and murder, too, while you’re at it?”
“Stop, Christy,” his father said. “Remember this man lost his son, too.”
Beth stood up, scowling at Adam. “I’ll thank you and your camera to leave.” She nodded at Billy and Denis. “You two can come with me.”
“What are you doing, Ma?” Christy said.
Billy, Denis, and Adam remained at the table, no one seeming to know where to look or what to do.
Christy glared at Adam. “She told you to leave.”
“If you’d listen to our vision—”
“If you don’t get out of here this second, you won’t have any vision left,” Christy said.
Adam looked at Billy, a wild, wounded look in his eyes. “Tell him.”
“Just go,” Billy said, drained, disgusted. He should have listened to his first instincts, shouldn’t have gotten so caught up in a film at any cost. That cold feeling went at his chest and stomach. So much seemed to point to what he should have seen and done, but hadn’t.
After Adam left, Liam led Billy and Denis to the living room. Billy and Denis remained in the doorway, unable to move deeper into the room. The smell of lilies choked the air, their scent undercut with the rotted taint of stems left too long in water.
Beth stood in the center of the room, facing the two shrines at either side of the fireplace, the memorial on the right dedicated to John, and the newer one on the left dedicated to Rosie. In each, a large, gold-framed photograph held pride of place, the children smiling, their faces bright. Beneath, a fake candle burned a sickly yellow. All about, a mound of cards, dried flowers, holy medals, saints’ statues, plastic vials of holy water, and various smaller photographs of the two teens.