The flight had been uneventful for Jack Maloney. He had purchased a discount round-trip ticket on the spur of the moment in a desire to see the land of his forebears before he got too old to enjoy himself.
The airport near Dublin was crowded with tourists. The groups of guided tour members and the shrill voices of small children made him happy that he had decided to make up his own tour of the Emerald Isle using only his small guidebook as his compass.
At only 35, Jack was not opposed to children and he loved to hear their laughter. Well, as long they weren't his responsibility at least. Nieces and Nephews were one thing, his own offspring was quite another. The closest he came to "tying the knot" was when he proposed to Captain Mary Lynch after one too many in the O-club in Quantico, VA. He had recently returned from a particularly nasty tour of duty in Afghanistan and was filled with a sense of wanting to leave a Jack Junior around to carry on the line of Bostonian Maloney males.
He was suitably relieved and forever grateful to young Captain Lynch for laughing off his moment of weakness after several shots of Jack Daniels.
They celebrated their escape from the boredom of marriage by an all-night session of frenzied copulation under a full moon on the beach just outside Norfolk, VA. The night was silent except for the pounding of the foamy surf and the passionate whimpers of the nubile Mary as he slammed her heart-shaped ass into the beach blanket beneath her. She was completely out of control and demanded his repeated impalements until the first rays of the morning sun were visible on the horizon. He lost count of the number of times he ejaculated his creamy juices inside her lovely tight slit but he figured he owed her big time for not holding him to his offer of marriage.
Jack stood out in the crowded airport because at six foot four, he towered above most of the other men in the waiting room. His oversized frame made his 240 pounds seem even larger than he actually was. The short-cut reddish hair on his head and well-trimmed beard identified him as being Irish even if he didn't sound like a native.
He made his way to the Taxi stand and pushed his rucksack into the small vehicle.
"An whar woust ye be heeded me fine boyo!"
At least that is what it sounded like to Jack.
Jack directed the driver to a small, moderately priced hotel that had all the appropriate kudos for what he wanted. It was modestly priced, clean, and convenient to the bus routes for touring the City without the benefit of a tour guide.
After that first day, Jack was thinking that maybe he didn't need a tour guide but he could use an interpreter for the mystifying dialect spoken by almost everyone he came in contact with. In some ways, it was more difficult to understand people speaking his own language than the exotic tones of a foreign language in far-away places.
He decided to rent a car and see the countryside. The weather had been quite nice since he had arrived and everyone was reminding him it was not normally as nice as that this time of year. The car he rented was Mini-Cooper with a roof so low that he just barely fit inside. He was careful to scrunch down in the seat to prevent damage to the top of his head on bumps. With the exception of one near-miss at the outset when he forgot about the reverse side of the street driving, he adapted quickly to the rigors of driving in a country filled with daredevil drivers with a death wish.
When he came over a rise and was treated to a glorious view of the lush green meadows and the distant rolling hills with shady trees, he noticed there was a young girl sitting forlornly at the next crossroad. The odd circumstance of there being not a single vehicle or pedestrian in any direction as far as the eye could see was unusual but not suspicious.
Jack came to a shuddering halt at the 4 way stop as he was still unfamiliar with the part dirt and gravel surface in many sections of the road. He looked left and right even though he knew there was no traffic in either direction.
The girl peeked out of her green hooded cape. Her flowing red hair was of the carrot top variety looking almost dyed but most certainly natural. He could see up close now that the small girl was actually a mature woman in her late 20s or early 30s. It was her size that gave the impression of a young schoolgirl.
He rolled down the window on the passenger side of the mini.
"Is it the road to the right that goes to the O'Bannion Castle?"
The girl smiled and nodded her head. Before he could roll the window back up she asked him,
"Would you be for giving me transport in that direction, big fella?"
Jack opened the door for the extremely short female to enter. Her feet hung off the end of the seat unable to reach the floor. She was probably no taller than about 4 feet even with a 2 inch heel. It was obvious that she was just short person as she was absolutely proportioned normally from her red hair to her silver buckled shoes.
He held out his hand.
"My name is Jack Maloney. I am just visiting this beautiful country to see where my grandparents came from."
The girl held out a delicate and silky soft hand that disappeared inside his big paw. He could feel the heat of her skin sliding inside his palm and then slowly slipping away from his grasp leaving him feeling like he had just lost something of value.
"My name is Moira. Moira Ann Mulvany of the Donegal Mulvany's. My cousin Shamus was to pick me up a full hour ago and not a single sign of him to be found."
Jack shrugged his shoulders, making certain his head did not come in contact with the roof of the car.
"You are welcome to ride with me, Miss Mulvany. I could use the company. I am starting to talk to myself or to the car and that is definitely not healthy. There are some sandwiches and a thermos of tea on the back seat if you are hungry."
.... There is more of this story ...