Aidan Gallagher lay in his hospital bed, eyes plastered open, the first time he heard the wailing. To most, the banshee’s cry would be something to fear. But to Aidan, it meant he would soon embark on a new journey.
Aidan pined for his death as one would long for a lover. A two-time warrior of leukemia, when the doctors gave him the tragic news that he had progressed to stage four, Aidan was not unhappy. He was tired.
This was his third hospital visit that month — this time for a cough that had turned to pneumonia. And he was bored out of his mind.
When most people had long stints in the hospital, they had friends and family to visit them. But that was not the case for Aidan. His Nan passed away when he was a boy, and his parents had left him orphaned when he was too young to remember the sound of their voices singing him to sleep.
When the wails grew unbearable, Aidan considered calling for the nurses to bring him a sleeping pill. He rejected it earlier that evening, but he also had no idea that he’d have a loud visitor.
He raised his hospital bed to a seated position and glanced out the window. Aidan thought he’d see nothing but the flickering street lamps outside, but was surprised to see a mysterious woman in vintage mourning attire, illuminated in the lamp light. She looked so incongruous crouching by the rocky seaside that his hospital room overlooked.
Aidan eased himself out of bed, careful not to jostle any of his monitors that might alert the nurses on duty. He made his way slowly to the window and pushed it open.
He had to pause a beat to catch his breath. It turned out that moving while battling late stage cancer and pneumonia was hard work. But he wanted a closer look at his visitor.
His Nan always spoke of the banshee’s cry, especially near the end. She’d say, “Aidan, do you hear her? She’s calling out for me.” Then his Nan would smile and crane her head to the side, in a feeble attempt to catch a glimpse of her.
“To hear the cry of the banshee is a gift. You don’t want to run from her. She will guide you to the Otherworld where you will have eternal youth and happiness.”
Aidan felt the fire burning in his lungs from his small trek and longed for his heavenly guide.
He sucked in one more excruciating breath before calling, “Hey, you!”
His voice came out so soft, he didn’t think she’d hear. But the woman in black shot her eyes at him, pausing her haunted cries and pointed a single finger his way.
Aidan’s skin turned to gooseflesh when she uttered, “Aidan Gallagher,” in a tone that left him more breathless than the pneumonia that infected his lungs.
He backed away from the window as the woman leaped into the air and began floating toward him as if she were a feather in the breeze. His heart monitor began beeping quicker as she appeared in the window with a smile, revealing a series of razor-sharp teeth.
“Who are you?” he coughed out.
She cocked her head to the side with an eerie smile. “Aidan Gallagher, I think your Nan taught you enough in your youth that you know exactly who I am.”
“How do you know my Nan?” Aidan struggled to catch his breath.
“I came for her about twenty years ago.” She crouched in his windowframe.
“Is she happy?” he asked, his eyes drifting to the worn prayer beads his Nan left him with. Aidan didn’t care where she wound up in the afterlife, so long as she was happy.
“She is pain-free and thriving,” the otherworldly woman said.
“It’s my time to come with you, I’m assuming.” Aidan sat back in his bed after a moment.
He glanced up at his heart rate monitor and noticed it slowed once more after she spoke of his Nan. There was something comforting about her presence after the banshee’s expert knowledge of her.
Aidan watched the woman glance at his monitor as if she realized the same thing. “You’re not afraid of me?”
“No, I’m not. I think I’ve been waiting on you for a long, long time.” His breaths were becoming more labored.
The woman came and sat next to Aidan on the hospital bed. Her skirts fanned out neatly. “Can you take my hand, Aidan Gallagher?”
Aidan reached out, timidly at first, before he wrapped his fingers around her surprisingly small hand. He expected the touch of a banshee to be cold, but he noted that it sent a comforting heat coursing through his veins. It felt almost like warm saline flushing out his IV line. But he relished in it.
A pool of water materialized in the center of Aidan’s room. He stared, wide-eyed at what he assumed was a hallucination from the heavy duty pain meds he was on.
“Step in,” the woman urged.
Aidan obliged and was transported to a fluorescently-lit operating room. He glanced down at himself, surprised to find he was completely dry. Uncanny.
Aidan was worried he’d be in the way as doctors and nurses rushed past him. The monitor had flatlined and they worked feverishly to resuscitate the person on the table.
He glanced over at the person’s chart, wondering why they were there and saw the name “Gallagher, Aidan F.”
“This is the time I almost died… during my first surgery.” He glanced down at the woman. He wished for a passing moment that he could see her without the veil.
“Wait a minute… is this your memory?” Aidan asked, dumbfounded at the realization.
“You catch on quick, Aidan Gallagher.” The banshee squeezed his hand. “I came to you that day. But you were not ready to join me quite yet.”
“Can you take that veil off?” he asked, bringing his hand to the lacy fringe.
“I’m afraid not,” she said in her wispy tone. “Come on. There’s still more I want to show you.”
The pool of water reappeared and Aidan let his companion lead him back in its murky depths. He was shocked when they walked up on a bustling city street. Their breaths were steaming in the chill of the night. Aidan found himself stepping closer to the warmth that the woman emitted.
“Where are we now?” Aidan asked, as he brought his free hand across his chest, shivering. He wished he had a jacket.
“Shh… Just watch.” The woman pressed a finger to his lips.
Suddenly, a car screeched to life, headlights shining brightly in their direction. Aidan shoved the banshee off the street with reflexes he hadn’t possessed in years, collapsing on her in a heap.
He gasped as icy grey eyes met his green ones. His companion was gorgeous, with a cute, upturned nose and plump lips he had a sudden urge to kiss. For a moment, he thought she might want to kiss him too.
Her eyes lingered on his mouth for far too long before she said, “Aidan Gallagher, I need you to look at the road.”
“You could have died.” He said, rolling off of her and sitting on the sidewalk.
“I am no mortal being. I don’t follow the laws of life and death that you have,” she sighed, smoothing out her skirts. “We would have been fine.”
Aidan stood to his feet, and offered the woman a hand up. “Where are we? When are we?”
“April 12, 2013.” She floated to her feet without taking his hand.
“The night of my prom?” he asked, realizing what just happened.
“Your date snuck whiskey into the dance. When you two got in an argument on the way to your after party, she became reckless.” The woman adjusted her veil, much to Aidan’s dismay.
“No. I don’t want to see this.” Aidan’s eyes welled with tears. “Sarah was pronounced dead at the scene. We never got the chance to make up…”
“Sarah forgave you. She carries no resentment.” The woman offered her hand to Aidan once more.
“Thank you,” he said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes. “Where to next?”
“I have one more memory to show you before we move on.”
“Take me there,” Aiden looked ahead as the rippling pool overtook them.
This time they were in an overgrown garden, filled with all sorts of technicolor flowers. “Nan’s?”
“Ay,” she smiled with a nod. “You used to love it here.”
“I don’t think I had any near death experiences at Nan’s house,” Aidan said, taking in the garden. He had not been there since he was a child — since the day she passed.
Aidan glanced over at the woman, but she was now a small girl… still veiled, but one he had seen before.
“Wait. Éabha? You were the neighbor girl I played with that summer?” Aidan backed away one step, then two.
“Your Nan had no neighbors, Aidan Gallagher.” Éabha said, turning back to her grown form.
“I could see you,” Aidan said, pressing a hand to his mouth.
“No one could ever explain to me how it was possible.” She shook her head.
“Éabha —” A sudden tenderness overtook him.
He slid a hand under her veil and pulled it over her face. Sure enough, she was just a grown version of the friend who comforted him when his Nan passed. He could now recognize her dark curls, pale skin, and those soft, sweet grey eyes.
“I’ve been waiting all your life to take you home,” she sighed, leaning into his touch. “I longed to spend more time with you.”
“What comes next?” Aidan asked. He wasn’t afraid, he found. He just wanted to be wherever Éabha was.
“We go to the Otherworld.” Her smile illuminated her whole face.
Aidan slid his large hand around Éabha’s waist and pulled her to him. When his lips met hers, a lightness overtook him. He felt all at once unburdened by sickness. His lungs filled completely with cool fresh air and for the first time in years, there was no more pain.
Éabha let out a girlish giggle as she met his gaze. “Come on, Aidan Gallagher. There is someone who misses you very much.”
A cobblestone path appeared at their feet, leading to the lush, green countryside. The colors looked all-at-once more vivid than they ever had before.
“Lead the way,” Aidan said, taking her hand again, as she led him to his forever after.
The Tributary 