PÚCA ULCHABHÁN( GHOST OWL)

"So, it's afraid of the dark y'are?"
Uncle Mikey squints at me.

I give a nod hoping
the dark doesn't hear me.

This is not just dark
but country dark.

Unable to even catch sight of
my own hand in front of my face.

As if the darkness
had solidified around me.

My body melted away
and I only a tangle of thoughts

floating through the air
being both there and not there.

"Sure don't ya know
your grandfather was born a ghost!"

Uncle Mikey attempts to
comfort my six year old self

"And sure wasn't your grandmother
a banshee for over a century or more!"

Granny in her chair
turns up her eyes.

I sit stunned at
all these revelations.

"And your grandfather
had a terrible habit of

turning into
an owl!"

I can hardly believe
what I am hearing.

"So if the dark
ever comes after ya..."

"Yes...yes...!"
I wait with baited breath.

"Then your grandfather
will give a hoot and

no one not even the dark will argue
with a  a natural born ghost!"

Outside an owl hoots.
Uncle smiles to himself.

After that the dark can't
lay a finger on me.

*

Nyctophobia struck deep into the heart of my six year old self. I was a townie and the dark never touched me until I experienced Cork country dark which was terrifying...you simply vanished into it as if it had consumed you and you were in the belly of the beast. Uncle Mikey had a unique way of dissolving the dark for me and did a good impression of an owl as well.

It was a strange sort of comforting but it worked...after that I always thought the dark was afraid of me and didn't want to argue with a natural born ghost!