Meet Francine Pt. 6
After being treated for a sprained ankle at the hospital, Bunny insists that she return to the cottage with him for a few days, as she must rest. Brannon is furious that his father has helped Brian move the piano to Warren Cottage in his absence.
Along the road, Bunny asks about my treatment at the hospital. But something else bothered me more than my injury. He listens intently, his face showing gentle concern.
“Bunny, something happened in the hospital that I cannot explain, and something similar occurred the evening he came and knocked on my door to tell me about the plan to pick up the piano.
I asked him to have a glass of wine with me, but he preferred a cup of tea, which I made. At first, I believed the way he was talking, it would be him who would pick me up to collect the piano, but something I said made him shiver, shrink away if you like, and from that moment, he distanced himself entirely, said he would arrange for Brian to pick me up. I asked what I had done and apologized for my carelessness, but he was already gone, if you know what I mean.”
With both hands on the steering wheel, Bunny looks across at me. His eyes looked sad. I know from his expression, the hurt, that he understands.
“And today, Francine, what happened at the hospital?” He asks
“Well, it was just as weird, Bunny. Brannon carried me into the hospital and called out for a wheelchair, which was brought almost immediately. The woman who brought the chair, on the way through to see the doctor, asks about Brannon. When she heard his name, she immediately associated his name with yours, that she knew him and you and had done so a long while.”
“Did she give you a name?” Bunny asks.
“I’m sure she said her name was May…yes, May.”
Bunny nods knowingly. “May Collier. She used to work for the Caledonian Ferry Company. I assume she’s now retired and working at the hospital, helping with her retirement. You see, when Brannon was a child, maybe six or seven, he was going to school in Oban, crossing on the ferry. That was when May and Rachel were closest, as May always kept an eye on him during the crossing. I haven’t seen or heard of her in ten or more years; the last I heard, she had moved to the mainland a year after Gavin died.
“Oh no,” I sigh.
“Yes, they were married just three years when Gavin was tragically involved in a tractor accident, turning it over. He was crushed to death.”
“Oh my, Bunny,” I say, sighing to hear such a thing.
“Yes, it was indeed terrible, Francine. I had no idea where she is working, so it seems she’s at the hospital. Last I heard she was working multiple jobs just to keep the house in Salen, waitress, telephone operator, and now, obviously, a clerk at the hospital. It doesn’t surprise me she would recognize Brannon. I’m sure with her long service to the ferry company, she crosses free from the mainland. Housing is easier to find in Oban. I knew her husband, Gavin, more than I did, May. They were married just three years before the accident. That was almost twenty years ago. I’m sure life was a real struggle for her, and I know many supported her along the way.”
As Bunny relays the story of May to me, I wonder about the word she used to describe an event: evil. What is the connection between the word evil and Brannon? What did she mean?
“I cannot imagine her despair, Bunny. One day everything is fine, and then tragedy rears its ugly head, and the world is different.”
“You sound like you speak from experience, Francine,” Bunny says, indirectly asking the question.
I look out the window for a moment. Ben More Mountain has a unique shoreline with bluffs that don’t bluff or boast but stimulate and inspire when treading the winding road of adventure. It is a bouquet of scenery quite as stunning, aromatic, fragile, and rugged as nature designed it to be.
“I guess I do, Bunny. I came to the island shortly before my parents were killed in a car accident. They had retired and decided to leave Glasgow, get away from the city, and moved to England, the Lake District. The bought a small home in Bowness. Dad loved watching sailboats. It was to be the perfect retirement. I still can’t get it through my head that they are gone.”
Bunny isn’t looking at me; he is driving straight ahead, and I watch a tear run down his cheek.
“I felt so lost, Bunny. I had just moved to the island, and Brannon was the first person I met who showed me kindness. I cannot explain it to you, but the pain of losing my parents was somehow dulled by the kindness of Brannon. Then Brannon led me to you, Bunny. You led me to the piano, to restore my faith in music and want to write songs again,” and tears welled up for all of it, my parents, Brannon, May’s husband, and knowing Bunny isn’t entirely well.
“Aye, lass, the world is turned upside down in a day; I’m sorry for ye; you’re a wee thing still. There will be more. It will strike and we must deal with it or keep a void in our lives.” Bunny’s tear left a glistening path. “Such as you have suffered, Francine, we can be left bereft of courage, of will, desire, and if we do not deal with tragedy, or wrong, or hatred, we will ultimately pass through the hourglass of lonely.”
“Is that where you are, Bunny? In the hourglass of lonely?”
“For a while, maybe for a long while, Francine, but not anymore. It’s not what Rachel would have wanted for me. I know that. But it’s not the same for Brannon. He is stuck there, he cannot pass through the hurt of himself, of his mother, me, or the circumstances. Yes, he’s a lonely man, Francine. A man who has since childhood, isolated himself from hurt. I don’t know if he will, ever. Brannon is in pursuit of a phantom, Francine. He cannot fill in the blank, and if he could, he would kill that blank. I cannot help him, no-one can, he fights with it every day. Be careful, lass. Get close and Brannon will break your heart. He worries about my heart, but mine is past breaking for Rachel. Every day it breaks for Brannon, his trauma, his lack of self-belief that he is a good man.”
As Bunny tells me this, the word evil arises in my mind. To what was May Collier referring when she said, I remember the words exactly: it was such a shame what happened, evil. There’s no other word for it.
“Bunny, can I ask you something?”
“Aye, lass, of course,” he says.
“May Collier, she spoke about Rachel after Brannon turned around and walked back to the waiting area, she said what happened to Rachel was…and she used this word, evil. Was she talking about the cancer?”
Bunny stays silent for a long moment. “Nay, not the cancer.” And he pauses even longer.
“Let’s get you home, and comfortable. It’s a long story.”
