It Hit Me Like Lightning

by Eleanor Rigby


The new night guard at the morgue in Cilldargan was named Walter McDougal. He was young, hardly twenty-five, with brown hair and a kind face. His first day on the job, right before closing at seven, they brought one last body in. When they laid her down on the slab they adjusted the sheet and he got a quick glimpse of her face. She was probably about his age, had reddish brown hair and a gorgeous face, even in death. It was a shame, Walter thought. This girl probably had a boyfriend or husband somewhere who was really missing her right now...

He wasn't too far off. Back in Ballykissangel, Peter was gathering the last of his things. He was leaving. The wake had done him good, he was more at terms now with the fact that the love of his life was gone forever, but he couldn't stay here. He had turned in his collar, too. Christening Kieran was his last act as a priest; he just couldn't do it anymore. He didn't understand why God would lead him down a path toward Assumpta and then take her away from him, just when they finally were making plans.

 Peter fought the lump rising in his throat. With the last of his bags packed he walked out the door and over the bridge, up the winding roads, into the country. He wasn't waiting for a bus. He had to get away, just had to leave as soon as possible. He didn't leave without saying goodbye though. Brendan stopped him on the hill before the road went into the mountains to give his regards. After Brendan left, Peter took one last look at Ballykissangel through the trees, and then he was gone.

It was raining in Cilldargan and it was giving Walter the creeps! His first day as the night guard at a morgue and there was a thunderstorm. Spooky. The instructions had been simple: Walk the grounds every half hour and make sure no-one comes in. Easy. It would have been if it weren't for the storm. All Water could think about was Frankenstein and the Boogeyman and... Jayz, what was that!

 Lightning had just come through the roof of the morgue and struck one of the slabs with someone lying on it. After the initial shock wore off Walter's sense of humor came back. Good thing they're already dead, Walter thought. He decided to check it out though anyway, just to make sure nothing had happened.

He walked over to the slab that had been hit (it was easy to tell which one; all he had to do was look for the hole in the roof). His eyes looked at the ceiling first, then at the slab. He gasped. There was no body. It took a second for the reality of it all to sink in. There was no body. There had been one, but now it was gone. He was so getting fired for this. The blanket covering the body was pulled back, like the person had suddenly woken up in their bed, thrown back the covers, and gone off somewhere.

Walter racked his brains, trying to remember who had been lying there. The slab was near the back, so the body must've come in towards the end...the girl. Walter was scared now. Really scared.

He went to the record office on the next floor. Everyone who was admitted to the morgue had some kind of record when they were brought here. He stood in front of the cabinet of records, which was filed alphabetically, when he realized he didn't know the girl's name. He thought for a minute. She was the last person admitted today, so if they had her record, it would be the first one under her last name. When Walter opened the A's, he was grateful to find pictures attached to all the records. Good, he thought. Now it would be a lot easier to find her. He looked through the A's, B's, C's, D's, and E's. He was starting to get bored. What if her last name started with Z? F's...wait! That was her! Name: Assumpta Fitzgerald. Age: 25. Date of Admittance: 18 May 1998. Today. Walter was proud of himself for finding it. The whole reason he wanted to find it was to call her family and tell them that their daughter wasn't really dead. He looked at the phone numbers. The home and work phone numbers were the same. Maybe she owned a business. He racked his brains, trying to think of businesses in Ballykissangel. At least that's where he thought he'd heard one of the workers say she was from. Fitzgerald's! He remembered. That nice little pub just past the Meeting of the Waters! Walter checked his watch. 9:10 pm. It was probably still open. He took the file to the phone and dialed the numbers.

"Fitzgerald's." A woman's voice answered.

"Ummm...hi," Walter said, not knowing how to begin. "My name is Walter McDougal. I, uh, work at the morgue in Cilldargan. A woman was admitted today by the name of Assumpta Fitzgerald, do you know her?"
 
"Yes, she's my best friend."

"Could I speak to her mother or father?"

The girl was puzzled. "They're both long dead."

Walter was embarrassed. "Oh. Sorry. Brother or sister then?"

"She's an only child," the girl said, annoyed now.

"Well has she got a husband? A boyfriend?"

"Well her husband's off in Dublin, but they've sort of split, and I don't know his number anyway. And as for a boyfriend...well, he's not here either." Now Walter was frustrated.

"Then who am I supposed to tell she's not dead?!" The girl was quiet for so long Walter was afraid she'd hung up.

Finally he heard her say, "What?"

"Assumpta Fitzgerald is not dead."

"What? When, how?"

"She was struck by lightning just a few minutes ago," Walter explained. "One minute she was lying there on the slab, then the lightning hit and now she's gone. I assume she's headed for home."

"But that's not possible!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me that when she shows up at home tomorrow morning. Have you ever seen those doctor shows? When a patient's heart stops they put those iron-looking things on them that make them jump. It's electrical impulses that help their heart to get started again. Lightning works the same way and I think that's what's just happened to your friend."

"You're crazy!"

"Sorry, I just wanted to tell you."

"Well, thank you but I have to go now."

"Sorry to bother--" Walter stopped. The girl had hung up. He desperately hoped he'd done the right thing.

Niamh hung up the phone, hands shaking. Padraig noticed and asked her what was up; she looked like she'd just talked to a ghost.

"Some lunatic from the morgue who said--" Niamh lowered her voice to a whisper, "...Assumpta isn't dead."

"Eejit," Siobhan muttered. "How'd he work that one out?"

Niamh sighed. "He said she got struck by lightning in the morgue and it got her heart beating again and now she's coming home."

Brendan rolled his eyes. "Don't make me laugh."

"That's not possible," Padraig said. Then he looked at Doc Ryan. "Is it, Doc?"

"Well, the chances are very, very slim," Doc Ryan said, his face troubled. "But it certainly is possible."

Niamh nearly dropped a glass. "Are you saying that Assumpta could be alive? Right now? Walking, moving, breathing, talking, thinking, the works?"

Doc Ryan nodded. "It very well may be."

"Oh my God we've got to tell Father Clifford," she said.

"Two things," Brendan reminded her. "One, he's not 'Father' anymore, remember? And two, he's gone."

Niamh did drop a glass this time. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"He left this afternoon," Brendan told everyone. "Said he was off to Canada, maybe."

"He left without saying goodbye," Niamh said, looking truly hurt. She glared at Brendan. "Why did he say goodbye to you?"

"I followed him," Brendan said innocently. "He didn't look like he could bear to leave."

"Well it looks like he did," Niamh said shortly. "We've got to find him, now more than ever that Assumpta's alive!"

"Ok fine, but can it wait till the morning?" Padraig yawned. "It's been a long day."

"No, you may not wait till the morning!" Niamh snapped. "We're going now!"

"What is this 'we'?" Brendan asked.

"Don't tell me you don't want to find him!" Niamh was scandalized.

"Think, Niamh, just think," Brendan said. "If we go after Peter and tell him that Assumpta's alive without any proof, he'll think we're crazy, not to mention mocking him."

"Well than what do you propose we do?" Niamh asked, hands on hips, not backing down yet.

"Wait for Assumpta to show up and take her with us to find him," Brendan said simply, as if he'd had the whole thing in his head since Niamh announced it.

"But that could be years from now!" Niamh cried. "What if she's got amnesia and she can't remember how to get home?"

"Oh for God's sake, Niamh, this is Ballykissangel!" Brendan said. "Not some BBC drama!"

"But what if she never comes back?" Niamh asked. "She could be on a plane to Australia by now!"

"I say we wait," Padraig said, backing his oldest friend.

"Do you?" Niamh asked. The two words sounded very intimidating. Niamh had a knack for doing that.

"Niamh, I think they're right," Doc Ryan said. "The best we can do is wait for Assumpta to turn up, and then go out and look for Peter. And it's unlikely that she has amnesia."

Several emotions passed over Niamh's face before she agreed, "Oh, all right!"

"That's it then," Siobhan said. She got off her stool, ready to head out for the night. "Tell us when she shows up, Niamh."

"If she ever does," Niamh muttered.

Assumpta Fitzgerald did not have amnesia. She was alive and well at the bus stop in Cilldargan, waiting for the next (and first) bus to Ballykissangel. It was seven o'clock in the morning, about twelve hours after she'd been brought to the morgue. She remembered everything that had happened and right now she had one goal: get home and back to Peter. She sat on the sidewalk next to the bus stop sign, shivering. All she was wearing was a skirt and sweater. She wished Peter was there to hug her, to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, and that he still loved her and they could live happily ever after.

"Who am I fooling?" she said out loud, but quietly. "He's probably moved on, he's probably forgotten all about me already. I just hope he's there when I get home..." And with that she fell into a light sleep, her head resting against the cold metal of the bus stop sign.

"Miss? Are you all right, miss?"

Assumpta's eyes opened slowly. She was still at the bus stop. A young man was leaning over her, asking if she was all right. A young woman stood behind him.

"Whew, you're alive!" he said. "Need a hand up?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Assumpta said. She stood up slowly and got her bearings. She couldn't have been asleep more than an hour; the man's watch said quarter past eight. The bus was pulled up next to the kerb and people were boarding. The familiar letters at the top spelled out Ballykissangel. "Are you getting on?" she asked the man and woman, assuming they were together.
"Ballykissangel?" the woman asked. "Yep, that's us."

"Small world, me too," Assumpta said.

The three of them got on and took seats near the back. Assumpta sat with the woman and the man sat across from them. Only about five other passengers were on; Assumpta was glad. She didn't want to see anyone she knew just yet...might come as a bit of a shock to them.

"I don't believe we introduced ourselves," the woman said, extending a hand. "I'm Orla O'Connell, and this is my brother, Father Aiden O'Connell."

Assumpta shook both of their hands. "Assumpta Fitzgerald. What brings you to BallyK?"

"I'm going to be the new priest there," Father Aiden explained.

"New priest?"

"Yeah, the other one left just yesterday," Orla said. "And not just the town, the priesthood as well."

Assumpta's stomach lurched. "What?"

"He'd been released of his duties for a few days, but I guess he didn't want to hang around," Orla went on. "He's left and I've no idea where he's gone to. No-one does, at least no-one that I know of."

Assumpta felt like she was going to be sick. "Excuse me..." She stood to get off the bus but it had already started moving. She sat back down and put her head in her hands.

"Everything all right?" Father Aiden asked.

At exactly nine o'clock am Kathleen Hendley walked outside to see how a sign looked that she'd just hung in her window. At the very same time the bus was pulling up. The doors opened and Assumpta, Orla, and Father Aiden walked out.

Kathleen took one look and said, "Good God." She watched as Assumpta waved goodbye to the two strangers, who headed in the direction of St Joseph's, and then crossed and went into the pub. Kathleen rubbed her eyes then went inside and dialed Ambrose's number.

"Niamh?" Assumpta called. She walked into the pub and went into the kitchen. There was Niamh, standing at the counter making tea. "Niamh?"

Niamh turned around and her eyes got huge. "Oh my God, it's true!" She ran to Assumpta and hugged the breath out of her. "You're ok! You're alive! Oh my God..."

"What do you mean?" Assumpta asked through her tears of joy.

"A man from the morgue called yesterday to say that you were alive and that you were struck by lightning and I didn't want to believe it but it's true and you're here and it's so good to see you and--"" she took a deep breath, "...Father Clifford's gone."

Assumpta groaned. "Oh, I knew it! I met the new priest on the bus and he told me all about it. Peter's left the priesthood and he's gone and no-one knows where he is and now we'll never find him and..." She began to cry. Niamh gave her another, more comforting, hug.

"Shhh, shhh, it's going to be all right. Brendan, Padraig, Siobhan, Ambrose, and Doc Ryan are going to help us find him. Brendan thinks Peter's gone to Canada."

"Canada?" Assumpta asked with a look of determination on her face. "Well what are we waiting for, let's go!"

"Ah, ah, ah, hold it!" Niamh ordered. "Not until you've eaten and changed your clothes!"

"But--"

"No buts! Go upstairs and change, then come back down and I'll make you a sandwich or something."

"Make it to go, we've got to get to the train station!" Assumpta bolted up the stairs and came back down thirty seconds later, hair brushed, clothes changed. "Ok, come on, let's go!"

"We've got to call the others first!" Niamh reminded her.

Assumpta was already getting her jacket on and halfway out the door. "We'll pick them up on the way, come on, we'll take the van!"

Twenty-five minutes later, after more tears and reunions, Assumpta, Niamh, Ambrose, Siobhan, Padraig, Brendan, and Doc Ryan were speeding down the road to Cilldargan.

"Oh, I'll never forgive myself if we're too late," Assumpta kept muttering. "He'll probably take the train to Dublin, and then fly to Canada, oh, we've got to get there!"

"Um, Assumpta," Ambrose piped up from the cramped back of the van. "I don't mean to be picky but you are going a lot faster than the speed limit."

"Oh get stuffed Ambrose, this is an emergency!" The van sped on.

Peter stood at the train station, feeling utterly lost and alone. He looked at his ticket and made his way to the correct gate. While waiting in line, the song playing overhead throughout the station changed. He didn't recognize it; it seemed fairly new and American. But as he listened he heard his life being sung to the entire station:

Could you whisper in my ear
The things you wanna feel
I'll give you anything
To feel it coming
Do you wake up on your own?
I wonder where you are
You live with all your faults
 I wanna wake up where you are
I won't say anything at all
So why don't you slide?

Peter found himself missing Assumpta again, like he'd been doing almost constantly lately. He wished she were here right now, in his arms, making some sarcastic remark about how the trains in Ireland were always late. God, he missed her.

"All right, let's split up!" Assumpta said, the leader in her taking charge. "Siobhan, Padraig, go that way. Brendan, Doc Ryan, cover those gates. And Niamh, Ambrose, and I will get the rest. Let's all meet at Gate A5 when we're done. Ok? Let's go!"

They went their separate ways and Ambrose and Niamh had to run to keep up with Assumpta. She ran through the throng of people in Gate A1. Seeing that Peter wasn't amongst the small group, she ran back out and into the next gate. After she was unsuccessful for two or three more gates she was starting to get discouraged. She knew that splitting up gave them better chances of finding Peter, but she wanted to be the one to do it. She wanted to call his name and run toward him, almost in slow motion, then feel his arms round her in a great big hug and then he'd kiss her for all the world to see. Niamh's voice interrupted her fantasy.

"Come on, there's still one more to check. A5. And let's walk this time." This gate was much more crowded and Assumpta felt claustrophobic as she craned her neck over the heads, trying to find Peter. During her search, a song she recognized came on. It was Eleanor Rigby, by The Beatles, one of her favorites. She'd always loved the 'lonely people' part. She listened to the melancholy melody and it brought tears to her eyes:
Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there What does he care?

Assumpta had to find Peter. She didn't want him to be alone like Father McKenzie. And then she saw him.

Somewhere in Gate A5, Peter heard the song, too. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember the name. Then he heard the last verse and it all came back to him, along with some strong emotions: Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name Nobody came Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave No-one was saved He almost cried. Had he really saved Assumpta by giving her the last rites, or was that just some mumbo jumbo he'd believed all his life? No-one was saved. Eleanor Rigby, that was the name of the song, and he felt very lonely right now. Then he heard his name.

"Peter!"

It sounded like her, like Assumpta. Then again, every woman did these days. But this voice was different. It sounded exactly like her, the mocking sweetness laced with sarcasm, even when she wasn't being sarcastic. It was her. She was here, somewhere, looking for him. He turned round and saw no-one. His mind was playing tricks on him again. He turned back when he heard it again.

"Peter, wait!"

He looked behind him into the crowd of people but saw her nowhere. A man who worked at the station took his bag and loaded in through the window, onto the train Peter was going to board.

"Peter, stop, it's me!" Then he saw her. She was running toward him, her face flushed, her hair a tad unruly, like always; she was wearing that shirt, the blue one that Peter loved so much, the one that went with her hair so beautifully; her black floral print skirt moving with her slender legs as she ran toward him.

"Assumpta?"

He had to be imagining this. She was dead, he had seen her dead, she was gone. Why was his mind torturing him like this? She looked so real, like he could reach out and touch her. She was close to him now, no more than ten feet away, trying to reach him through the crowd. Niamh and Ambrose followed after her.

"Peter, wait!" She finally reached him, panting heavily. She flung her arms round him and hugged him, crying. "I've been trying to find you!" she sobbed.

"No, you're not real!" Peter said, shrugging her off, though it killed him to do so. "Leave me alone! You're dead! Stop haunting me!"

Assumpta looked as if he'd struck her. "No, Peter, it's me, I'm real! When I was at the morgue I got struck by lightning and it brought me back! I'm alive, Peter!"

Several people had begun to stare, and Peter felt quite awkward. "No. Go away."

"Peter, don't do this!" Assumpta sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "It's me! Come home, to Ballykay!"

"Hey, lady!" One of the station workers noticed the argument and decided to step in. "Leave him alone; he clearly doesn't know who you are."

"Yes he does!" Assumpta shouted firmly. "He knows me and he loves me!" She turned back to Peter. "Please, Peter, come back! I'm real!"

"Assumpta!" Niamh called out from a few feet away. "Don't!"

"Peter, I'm alive!" Assumpta was still pleading.

"Ok, come on, let's go," said the worker. He grabbed her arm and started to pull her away.

Niamh gasped and Ambrose stepped forward, but then Assumpta started screaming again.

"Peter, don't let them take me away from you! It's me! Remember, we walked by the lake in Cilldargan? And you told me that you loved me! Don't you remember that night in Niamh's kitchen? The polar bear joke, Peter! The polar bears!"

Of course Peter remembered. But it seemed to good to be true. Could it really be her? It was. It was really her, it was really Assumpta! "Assumpta?" he asked tentatively.

"Peter!" she screamed, struggling with the man who was holding her, dragging her away.

"Assumpta!" He ran toward her, pushed the man aside, and hugged her. He took her in his arms and held her so close he squeezed the breath out of her. He sobbed tears of his own, thanking God that she was real.

"Don't ever leave me!" Assumpta cried onto his shoulder.

"I won't, I won't," Peter said, hushing her and rocking her back and forth. "I love you, Assumpta." She looked up and nodded.

"I love you, too." Then Peter cupped Assumpta's face in his hands, brought it to his, and kissed her lips. She kissed him right back, long and passionate, holding him close.

They would have kept at it had they not heard a voice yell, "Hey!"

They pulled apart reluctantly and looked in the direction from where the voice had come. There stood Leo, on the other side of the train tracks, fuming.

"Get your hands off my wife!" he shouted at Peter.

"Go away, Leo!" Assumpta screamed. "Leave us alone!"

Leo came toward them not looking before he crossed the tracks, not stopping when Niamh cried, "Look out!" or when someone shouted, "Watch out for the train!" He kept walking... and then the train pulling into the station hit him. He was dead in an instant, flat on the tracks. Assumpta and Niamh let out simultaneous gasps of horror and Peter and Ambrose made disgusted faces.

"It's all my fault..." Assumpta said, sounding sick. The rest of the group ran up.

"What happened?" Padraig asked.

"We heard shouts and screaming and crying," Siobhan said.

"Leo's dead," Ambrose informed them. "The train hit him."

"Oh my God..." Assumpta moaned, leaning into Peter. "This is all my fault..."

Peter shook his head. "None of this is your fault. We'll get through this." He kissed her hair. "We'll get through this..."

One month later, everyone sat in Fitzgerald's having a grand old time. Assumpta, obviously, no longer had any type of engagement with Leo and was going strong with Peter. Everyone had recovered from the incident and was celebrating a new beginning. They were all talking and laughing, some were singing along with the radio, when Peter stood up and cleared his throat to make an announcement.

"Quiet, everyone, please! Thank you. I've got something very important to say." He reached into his pocket and came out with a golden ring with an emerald in the middle. Then he turned to Assumpta, who looked stunned. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course!" she smiled with tears in her eyes. Peter slipped the ring on her finger and they kissed.

Brendan and Padraig hooted.

"Ah grow up," Assumpta said, still grinning. "You're just jealous."

The party continued, now with another reason to celebrate. The song on the radio changed to "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang and everyone started dancing.

While they were grooving, Peter leaned over and whispered in Assumpta's ear, "I love you."

She grinned at him. "And I love you." She pulled him in for another kiss and then they continued dancing, knowing that their future was looking so bright they were gonna have to wear shades.