‘Sounds serious,’ said Mr McCoy. ‘Ask away.’
‘OK,’ I said, taking a breath. ‘Does “time machine” mean anything to you? Ronan said it in the museum when we were standing in front of the old courthouse clock.’
They looked at each other and frowned with little shakes of their heads.
‘Time machine?’ said Mrs McCoy, turning her mouth down at the corners. ‘Trying to think … No, I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything like that before. Time machine?’
‘I haven’t either,’ said Mr McCoy.
‘Me neither,’ I said. ‘We’d been looking at a picture of a barley field in the museum and then when we were in front of the clock face he said, “time machine,” so I don’t know. Anyway, thought I’d ask.’
‘Oh, wait,’ said Mrs McCoy. Her face had gone very taut and her hand went to her cheek. ‘I wonder if he meant timecapsule?’
Mr McCoy swallowed and looked down.
‘Yes,’ she continued quietly, ‘yes, that’s probably what he meant, actually.’
‘Do you mean like a memory box?’ I asked. ‘Like one of those boxes you put lots of personal things in and bury it for people to dig up in a hundred years?’
‘Yes, exactly,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘Ronan had made one.’
She looked at her husband.
‘He was going to bury it …’ he said, ‘… he was going to bury it that day … in the barley field.’
‘Oh’ was all I could manage to say. ‘Oh, right.’
We stood there in the hallway, none of us speaking, all looking down.
‘I didn’t know that. I didn’t know that’s why he was in the field,’ I said. ‘My promise to Ronan, if you remember, for him to tell me everything … I’ve sort of been trying to avoid the details until … until Ronan actually started trying to tell me something at the museum.’
‘We’re as keen as you, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy, ‘truth is, Ronan really is the only one who can confirm or deny what actually happened, the way he was found …’
‘… I really am still keeping my promise, though, Mrs McCoy.’
‘Sorry, yes, we completely respect that, Brendan.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘it’s just I did promise and I know he’ll be able to tell me, tellus,soon but I think he needs me to know this one thing about the time capsule and I think he needs me to know about it now.’
‘Well, it’s actually something no one knows about, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘You know, in case some stupid people go and try to dig it up.’
‘It’s still there?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ said Mr McCoy, ‘he managed to bury it before … well, when Emma and I could bring ourselves to go to the field weeks afterwards we saw where he’d been and where he’d filled in the hole by the stump.’
‘Of the fairy thorn tree?’ I asked.
‘Yes, how’d you …’
‘Well, as much as I tried, I couldn’t block outeverythingthat everyone was saying.’
‘No,’ said Mrs McCoy, ‘and people say a lot.’
‘And don’t understand a thing,’ said Mr McCoy.
This was the darker, more tortured side of the McCoys I had hardly ever seen, but always felt. They hid it so well.
‘I don’t remember him ever mentioning anything about time capsules before,’ I said.
