SPEAKER_00 0:22

The Demon Horseman. Ashley O'Connor felt herself riding on horseback through a tenebrous world. The trees, the mountains, the lakes, they were all a nimbus. It was surely just a dream. She had always wanted a horse, but Dr. O'Connor was a stern man. You could break your neck riding a horse. Swimming is a much healthier exercise for a young girl. In this dream, in this fantasy world, she moved from horseback, cutting through magical valleys, to a carriage of gold, being driven over rugged terrain by four sturdy mares. She was alone in this carriage, save for a man sitting opposite her, his face invisible, covered by a yellow doll newspaper he was reading. He clutched it with velvet gloves that covered some very long fingers. What big hands he had. Where are we going? she asked curiously, but there was no answer. When she was fifteen or sixteen, she once saw a man, a strange man riding on horseback as she fed the swans on the shores of Loch Quay. Morning had just broken. It was as if the man had ridden through a time portal, his fierce black stallion emerging from the mists, sending sweeping birds flying from trees in frenzied ripples through the erstwhile still waters. He was out of time. His clothes were those of an aristocrat, or a soldier from centuries ago, one that might have fought in the Battle of Kinsale. As a man on horseback came charging towards Ashling, she remembered the stories her grandfather had told her, of evil earls who live beneath the lakes, like Loch Gur in Limerick, and return from the other world every seven years to steal a beautiful Colleen to be their bride. Do not listen to this superstitious old nonsense, her father would scold, giving his own father-in-law a disapproving glance. Belief in this old guff has held Ireland's progress up for centuries. Could you believe I had a patient in today with a sick child, and they were sure it was the fairies that had put a curse on the little girl? The parents themselves, of course, were absolutely faultless, smoking around their children, keeping them in the pub till all hours, no turf in the fire, no food on the table. And then it's the fairies' fault because the child is sick. Another man coming saying he's going to die because he hurt a panshee last night. What a country! What a sorry excuse for the country we live in. Half the clowns who inhabit it are still living in the dark ages. The crepuscular horseman tundered in Ashton's direction against the spectacular backdrop of McDonald's castle in the middle of Loch Quay and stretched out his hands, his marvellous hands to grab her. In the confusion, she remembered feelings of terror, but of excitement too. Her mother shrieked and ran to help her, speaking the horse who rose with a vengeance on his hind legs, the great beast snorting venom from its nostrils, and the horseman snarling all sorts of maledictions in the direction of Ashtling and her mother. Mrs. O'Connor We'll meet again. What is it? cried Ashtling now shrieking with fear. Mrs. O'Connor, who herself was blessed with looks that would summon a horny demon from beneath the earth, never spoke of the incident again, nor did Ashtling ever bring it up, eventually believing it to be a dream or a hallucination inspired by the supernatural tales of her late grandfather. But in many ways the horseman had raised a bar. When a boy eventually did come asking for her hand in marriage, or even just to the dance, nothing would do till he swept her off her feet. When a boy did come, it was the rather goofy Scotusolin, wishing to ask her to his school dance. She cringed as she watched him from her bedroom window timidly walk up their driveway, a great hump on his back. He might have had some chance had he at least dressed up and cut his hair. A tattered denim jacket with a badge depicting one of Francis Rossi's green telecasters were going to horrify the doctor and his lovely wife, both waiting to ambush him at the door. And who are you again? asked Dr. O'Connor. Olin Scottis Olen Jimmy Olen's boy. Yes, said Scottis. Yes, I recall Jimmy at UCD, said Dr. O'Connor. An odd sort. Failed his philosophy exams. That was quite a feat considering the bar of entry for that particular subject, unlike medicine, was not that high. Ashley was grateful for her father's intercession. Scottis was one of the uncool boys. And besides, he must have been like eighteen or nineteen or even twenty. Besides being a cradle rapper, he and Seamus Harrington met love at the disco every Friday night to their air guitars, and jumped like monkeys on the floorboards when the DJ harassed until his will was broken, played their caveman anthem. Whatever you want. I'm sorry, said Dr. O'Connor. But Ashtling will be otherwise engaged on the night of your school dance. We'd rather you kept away from Ashling, said Mrs. O'Connor, who Scottis was even too shy to look at because she was the most attractive woman he'd ever laid eyes on, and her daughter was clearly following in her footsteps. She's not really your type, added Mrs. O'Connor. Ashling continued to watch from her bedroom window as Scotus turned and walked away, now sporting a bigger hump than the one he had arrived with. He did, however, turn around once and caught her watching him from her window upstairs. Although she quickly tried to pull away, she was frozen. Frozen in time and frozen to the floor, fate playing a silly little trick on her. She was very mad with herself, actually highly disgusted with herself, because sometimes even the briefest little glance can give a loser like Scooter Salin just enough encouragement to be dangerous. She pictured him talking to Seamus Harrington later that evening, hanging around some corner shop in Boyle when he got his confidence back. It wasn't Ashley that declined, but her narrow-minded father and mother. That's a shocking state of affairs, bro, when the parals don't let their daughters decide for herself. Saw her looking out at me. Could see by her face that she wanted to come. I was standing there like Orpheus, watching in horror as my Eurydice disappeared. Forever. Not forever, boss. You'll get your chance. And when you do, there'll be no Dr. O'Connor to get in the way of true love. Ashley now felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness. When she awoke, she was still in a gold carriage, and the man on the other side was still reading his newspaper, as if he hadn't even turned a page. When she looked out the carriage window, she saw something emerge in the distance. It was all a blur at first, but then a castle. A great castle began to appear. A castle, Ashling exclaimed. Then she felt a soreness in her head. She explored under her golden hair and felt a bump. What happened, my head? she asked. In front of her, the yellow door newspaper began to shuffle, and slowly a face began to unveil. A leathery old face, but she only noticed the teeth, beastly they were, before slipping back into her sleep world again, unable to face the terror. In the land of dreams, she was the doctor's daughter, and all the boys loved her. She preferred that world.