The Mighty Quinns: Kieran

Ronan cursed softly. “The old man is nuts. A hundred dollars went a lot further fifty years ago.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to use our wits rather than our wallets,” Kieran said. “We’re all smart lads. I’m sure we can figure something out. And he did give us the credit card in case of an emergency.”

“What constitutes an emergency?” Dermot asked.

“Imminent death?” Ronan said. “Starvation? The pressing need for a shower and a shave?” He shook his head. “Three and a half days on a bus.”

Kieran got to his feet. “I need a ride home.”

“Why don’t we all go out?” Cam suggested. “We can have a beer and give Kieran a decent send-off. We won’t be seeing each other for six weeks. I think a drink or two is in order.”

“O’Leary’s?” Ronan asked.

“O’Leary’s it is,” Kieran said.

THE BUS HAD pulled into the station in Denver at precisely 6:45 a.m. Kieran glanced down at his watch through bleary eyes. His layover was just a little longer than two hours and he wasn’t sure he could keep his eyes open long enough to make his transfer onto the next bus headed to Indianapolis.

After his first restless night on the way east from Seattle, he had actually been grateful to change buses in Missoula and Billings, using the opportunity to stretch his legs. But the trip was starting to wear a little thin now and he found himself getting crankier by the mile.

Over the past twenty-four hours, Kieran had managed to read both the books he’d brought with him. He’d tried to check his emails on his BlackBerry, only his grandfather had disconnected his internet access. And the scenery was only interesting when it changed, which happened every hour or so during the daylight hours.

With only a hundred dollars in his pocket, his budget didn’t allow for new reading material, so he’d picked up leftover magazines and newspapers from his fellow passengers. He’d read a two-month-old Sports Illustrated and a current issue of InStyle from cover to cover before finding a copy of some silly tabloid with an alien baby on the cover.

Kieran glanced around at his surroundings. The station was bustling with travelers making their way onto morning buses. He grabbed his bag and walked over to the digital display to check on his departure time and noticed that his bus would start boarding in thirty minutes.

His stomach growled and Kieran reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. After careful budgeting, he still had about seventy dollars left as well as the credit card.

They’d been charged with finding a different life and living it for the next six weeks. So far, Kieran had been bored out of his mind with this new life. Though the bus ride had given him time to think about his future, he hadn’t really found himself drawn to anything different. He liked his job. It was predictable and interesting and provided a decent living.

Whatever was waiting for him in Bitney, Kentucky would never match what he had in Seattle. Kieran adjusted his bag on his shoulder and headed to the food court at the far end of the station. He found a sandwich shop and ordered a turkey sub and a large Coke.

What he really could use was his usual breakfast of orange juice, oatmeal and an egg-white omelet. Everything seemed off without his routine.

The cashier totaled up his purchases and glanced up at him. “Ten-thirty,” she said.

Kieran frowned. “For a sandwich and a Coke?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t set the prices. Ten-thirty.”

He reached into this pocket and grabbed the credit card, then handed it to her. Though it wasn’t an emergency, he didn’t want to waste any more of his cash. A few seconds later, she handed it back to him. “It was refused,” she said in a bored voice.

“No, that can’t be. It’s a company card. Try it again.”

She sighed dramatically and ran it through again. “Nope. Still refused. Do you have cash?”

Kieran looked at the sandwich and soda. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough to feed himself until he got to Bitney. He could wait until breakfast. “Never mind,” he muttered.

“I’ll get it,” a soft voice said.

Kieran looked at the person standing behind him in line. There wasn’t much he could see. She wore a baggy sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her hair. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes. But when he glanced at her hands, he saw perfectly manicured nails and long, slender fingers clutching an armful of junk food. “That’s not necessary,” he said. “I have cash. I’m just not as hungry as I thought.”

“No, take it,” she replied. “I insist.” When he refused, she sighed impatiently and gathered up his purchases then ordered a soda for herself, before giving the cashier two twenties. “That should cover it. Keep the change.”

She turned and handed him the sandwich and Coke. “Thanks,” Kieran said. “I can pay you back.”

“No problem.”

“No, I mean it. I have the cash.” He followed after her and when she sat down in the lobby, he took a spot nearby, setting the sandwich and soda between them.

He watched as she unwrapped one of her candy bars and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, then shook her head, setting it aside. “Those used to taste so much better.” She ripped open a bag of BBQ potato chips and plucked one out. “I haven’t had these in years.”

She held out the bag and he shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“Eat your sandwich,” she said.

Kieran picked it up and started unwrapping it. “So, are you some kind of health-food nut?” he teased as she picked through the purchases on her lap.

“What?”

“Breakfast of champions,” he said, pointing to the pile of candy.

She shook her head. “I can never decide what to eat. I usually just get anything that strikes my fancy and then nibble through it until I find something satisfying.”

“That’s kind of a waste of money, don’t you think?”

She held out a candy bar. “You can have this. I don’t know why I bought it.”

“You don’t want it?” he asked, taking it from her.

“No, I’ve already lost interest. Oh, peanut butter. That sounds really good.” She opened the candy bar and took a bite, then wrinkled her nose. “Nope, that’s not it either.” She wrapped the candy up and handed it to him. “I don’t have any communicable diseases. Don’t worry.”

Kieran took a bite of his sandwich, not quite believing this stranger. “So, where are you headed?”

“Don’t know yet. I haven’t bought a ticket. I thought I would think about it while I ate.”

“With all that sugar, you won’t need a ticket. You’ll be able to run wherever you want to go.”

She giggled. “Very funny. Where are you going?”

“Bitney, Kentucky,” he said.

“Kentucky? Really? That’s where I was thinking about going. I love Kentucky. My grandparents live there.”

Kieran watched her suspiciously. Who was this woman? And why had she chosen to entertain him with her presence? Could he really believe her story? “What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” she asked.

“Kieran,” he said. “Kieran Quinn.”