Daniel’s face as one of confirmation and took a large, and quickly regretted, draught from one of the cups that Seamus was pouring the moonshine into. He coughed and spluttered to start with, but when his face turned beetroot red Ruth rushed over in concern and started frantically patting him on the back.
“What is it Daniel? What is wrong with him?”
Daniel looked at Jebediah’s face and burst into uncontrollable laughter, pointing at him, opening his mouth in an attempt to speak, and immediately laughing again. He gulped air down in a furious attempt to stop laughing but only managed to give himself hiccups, and every time he hicced he laughed even more.
Ruth put her hands on her hips and looked at Seamus through narrowed eyes.
“What have you done this time Seamus?”
“Me?” Seamus looked shocked and glanced over his shoulder as if he would see another leprechaun of the same name standing behind him.
“Yes Seamus, you! What is in the jugs?”
“Just a bit of the potato juice,” Seamus mumbled, staring intently at his shoes.
By now Jebediah had recovered himself and his face had returned to its former shade.
“Seamus, that stuff is…well….it’s…that’s good!”
Seamus looked triumphantly at Ruth and, picking up two cups, walked over to a group of men standing nearby and passed them over with a little wink.
Within ten minutes the cups had been passed around half the adults at the gathering, in half an hour they had all partaken of the liquid.
The children looked on bemused as the adults giggled and joked their way through the evening while Seamus looked on with satisfaction and smiled happily to himself.
Unfortunately for Seamus his reputation had sunk to an all time low by the following morning. It had started when Daniel woke up and was struck down by a new disease not heard of in the area before. His head was pounding as if it would burst, he felt sick and his mouth felt dry and uncomfortable. He moaned out loud and Ruth, who had similar symptoms but not as extreme, felt his forehead sympathetically and, worry etched on her face, checked the children before announcing with relief that they appeared fine.
When Seamus arrived at the house he bounced in and gleefully stated he had the best evening in years. Then noticed Daniel laying pale and listless in the corner and Ruth gingerly sipping at a cup of water.
“What’s the matter with yer?”
“I’m frightened Seamus,” Ruth replied. “I don’t know what is wrong but I have never felt this ill before and Daniel is far worse than I am. Whatever can have caused it?”
At that moment there was a knock on their frail wooden door and Seamus pulled it open to find a very green and sickly Jebediah and two other farmers looking equally as green and sickly, clutching their stomachs.
“The Priests,” Jebediah whispered. “The Priests have poisoned us, they have found out about us and poisoned us.”
Ruth gasped and glanced over at the children, fear alive in her eyes.
“Now don’t yer be jumping to conclusions.” Seamus spoke quickly and scratched at his beard looking guiltily at the men.
“Conclusions? What else are we to think?” Jebediah demanded.
“Well it is possible that maybe yer suffering from a little known disease called hangoverous possibilitus alcoholitis. It may not be good at the time but passes quickly.”
“Seamus.” Ruth’s tone had that note of suspicion that Seamus was getting very used to hearing in her usually smooth and sensitive voice.
“Ah yes me dear?”
“What do you know Seamus, what do you know that you are not telling us?”
“Well maybe,” Seamus stared up at the ceiling and chewed his upper lip.
Daniel heaved himself up onto his elbows and looked over at the leprechaun.
“Please Seamus, just tell us.”
“It could be that by drinking the poteen yer may have affected yer stomachs and heads a wee bit.”
“So it was your drink and not the Priests that poisoned us?”
“’Tis not a poison, I tell yer, ‘tis a touch of illness that will soon pass. Let’s be calling it a small drawback of a special evening.”
“Oh Seamus!” Daniel groaned and laid back down on the bed clutching his stomach.
“Unbelievable,” Jebediah muttered and turned around to make his way back home.
“Be Jeezus…what a whinging lot yer are!” Seamus stated indignantly. “I admit that the drink was a wee bit rough around the edges but a little hangover never hurt anybody. Here’s me advise if yer want it, go home, drink some water and stop yer fussing.”
In the future, Seamus would refer to that night and the following morning as the Battle of the poteen. For Daniel it would be remembered as confirmation that unless Seamus was actually willing to guarantee something, it was not worth believing him. For Jebediah it was the time he realised that even if he was to live a life where he ate only potatoes, he would never, ever drink them again.
For Ruth it was a time she would know once and for all that she would never allow Seamus to be in charge of any food or drink in her company again unless it came out of his red spotted kerchief.
This short story was based on a portion of the novel ‘The Land of Reality’, now available to download.
The Farmer, the potatoes and the leprechaun
Amanda Mayer-Thilwind
Copyright 2011 by Amanda Mayer-Thilwind
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