Schmidt Happens

by Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

‘Okay, that’s what most people seem to be saying. I’m storting to understand why she reacted the way she did now. Then there’s a whole thing about Honor deciding not to make her Confirmation and me not telling her.’

  It’s hilarious because Ronan storts giving me relationship advice then? He goes, ‘Look, it’s bowunt be heerd at the steert, Rosser – especially arthur her habbon a babby wir anutter fedda.’

  ‘The thing is,’ I go, ‘we’re not actually properly back together yet? As in, we haven’t actually sealed the deal yet.’

  ‘You’re saying you habn’t had sex wirrer?’

  ‘She doesn’t know whether she trusts me enough to be intimate with me yet.’

  ‘Moy Jaysus.’

  ‘Direct quote.’

  ‘It’ll alt come togedder, but. You and Sudeka are meant to be togetter. Thrust me, Rosser.’

  ‘I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last without having sex.’

  And then, as if on cue, a bird walks by. She looks like – and I’m not exaggerating here – an Irish version of Mikee Quintos, except with a little bit more bork on the trunk.

  ‘I’ll tell you something,’ I go, ‘if you take my advice, Ro, you’ll stay single for the rest of your time in this place. The women here are even nicer than they were in my day.’

  Ro goes, ‘You caddent say that, Rosser.’

  ‘Why not? It’s a compliment to them.’

  ‘Dudn’t mathor. You caddent go arowunt thalken about wooben in that way addy mower. Especiady out hee-or.’

  I’m like, ‘What do you mean, out here?’

  And it’s not long before I end up finding out.

  Standing outside the restaurant, in the middle of a group of angry-looking fellow students, is a good-looking bird – compliment – holding what looks very much to me like a placord? If I was allowed to describe her physical appearance – which, apparently, I’m not any more? – I’d say she looks like Camila Cabello except with smallers thrups and a slight underbite.

  When she spots Ronan, she goes, ‘Hi, Ro!’

  And he’s there, ‘Howiya, Huguette? How’s things?’ and then he ends up introducing us. He’s like, ‘Huguette, this is Rosser, me ould fedda. Rosser, this is Huguette, a veddy good friend of moyun. She’s in me Constitutionoddle Law tutordial.’

  Huguette! Yeah, no, I thought I’d heard them all before, but it’s definitely a new one on me.

  I’m there, ‘Yeah, no, nice to meet you.’

  Ronan goes, ‘So what’s the demonstrashidden about, Huguette?’

  She goes, ‘We’re picketing the restaurant to try to force them to take sushi off the menu.’

  I’m there, ‘Sushi? Why?’

  ‘Why do you think?’ she goes. ‘Because Western people eating it represents cultural appropriation.’

  I’m there, ‘It represents what?’

  Ronan goes, ‘Culture doddle appropryashidden is where a pribileged commudity boddows the thradishiddens and symbols of anutter, often marginalized commudity wirrout permishidden or regeerd for the consequedences.’

  I end up just staring at him. I’ve never heard him talk like this before.

  Huguette goes, ‘It’s the reason we don’t wear sombreros at Hallowe’en any more.’

  I’m there, ‘What are you talking about? I wore a sombrero last year – to a house porty in Glenageary. Actually, that was the year before. Last year, I blacked up and went as Mel B.’

  I can tell from the way she looks at me that Huguette has taken an instant dislike to me.

  ‘Or was it Mel C?’ I go. ‘No, it was definitely Mel B. Will I tell you a handy way to tell the difference? Just think Mel Black and Mel Caucasian!’

  Ronan goes, ‘See, that’s anutter exampiddle of it, Rosser. You caddent do things like that addy mower.’

  ‘Are you talking about blacking up or dressing up as a Mexican bandit?’

  ‘Either,’ Huguette goes. ‘Both are equally offensive?’

  ‘Even though the taxi driver who drove me to the porty was black himself and he thought it was hilarious?’

  ‘Maybe he only laughed because you made him feel uncomfortable?’

  ‘No, he found it genuinely funny. I was doing the voice and everything: “Oooh, I’m Scaaary Spice!”’

  Ronan’s like, ‘It dudn’t mathor if he laughed or not, Rosser. It’s still offedensive.’

  ‘Okay,’ I go, ‘I can see how it might be offensive to people who don’t know my sense of humour. But you can’t say that eating sushi is the same thing.’

  ‘We have our own culture,’ Huguette goes. ‘We shouldn’t be allowed to mine other people’s – just to adopt things that we consider cool or of the moment.’

  I’m there, ‘If you’re going to tell people they can’t eat sushi, you might as well tell them they can’t eat lasagne, then. Or spaghetti.’

  Huguette turns around to one of the other protestors – a dude – and goes, ‘Is lasagne on the menu?’

  The dude checks his phone. ‘No,’ he goes, ‘but spaghetti is?’

  Huguette is like, ‘Okay, we need to put spaghetti on the banned list.’

  I’m standing there, thinking, What the fock is happening to UCD? These people are kids. They’re, like, nineteen, twenty years old. Why aren’t they drunk? Or in bed, riding each other?

  Of course my next thought is, How are we going to get past the picketers because I am literally storving here?

  I’m there, ‘What if we go in and promise not to have the sushi? Do you know do they do a burger?’

  But Ronan lets me down in a big-time way. He goes, ‘You caddent pass the picket, Rosser. Thee woatunt chayunge the medu in theer udless we hit them where it hoorts – in the bleaten pocket!’

  And then he goes, ‘Gib us one of them soyuns theer, Huguette. Ine godda join yous.’

  And I only have to look at him for a split second to realize that my son is smitten in a big-time way.

  Sorcha sort of, like, sad-smiles me across the table. ‘I never got to tell you,’ she goes, ‘how sorry I was.’

  And I’m like, ‘Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?’ pretending that I don’t have a list?

  ‘It’s just I know you had your hort set on taking over Hook, Lyon and Sinker,’ she goes.

  I’m there, ‘Hey, I just feel bad for telling JP that his old man thought he wasn’t up to the job.’

  ‘You weren’t to know the man was going to suddenly drop dead, Ross.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. But I still feel like shit. Maybe I’m not as emotionally switched off as JP’s old man thought I was.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s kind of a good thing, Ross?’

  We’re having the early bird in Hortley’s in Dún Laoghaire – having another crack at the whole date night thing.

  I’m there, ‘I’m worried about JP, though. I’m scared he’s going to do something stupid.’

  She goes, ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. It was just the way he was acting at the funeral. I’ve never seen him so low.’

  ‘You’ll all have to watch him very closely, Ross. Grief can affect people in all sorts of ways.’

  ‘Jesus, do you remember me when Ian Madigan moved to France? I sat on the side of the bed for three hours one morning, crying my eyes out because I couldn’t make up my mind what colour socks to wear!’

  ‘I remember when Brian O’Driscoll retired, you drove the wrong way around the Glenageary roundabout!’

  In my pyjamas. Yeah, no, I never told her that detail. God, I’ve kept a lot from her over the years.

  Sorcha goes, ‘This is nice, isn’t it, Ross?’

  I’m like, ‘What?’

  ‘I’m talking about this!’ she goes. ‘As in, us having dinner! Just me and you!’

  I’m like, ‘Yeah, Eabha said she might try and join us for the dessert course.’

  She laughs, in fairness to the girl.

  She goes, ‘I still can’t believe you thought I wanted us to date other people!’ but she’s so
rt of, like, shaking her head, like she’s beginning to see the funny side of it.

  I’m there, ‘I’m thick as shit, Sorcha.’

  ‘I accept that,’ she goes. ‘Anyway, like I said, I’m happy to write it off as a misunderstanding and move on.’

  That’s big of her. It’s been focking weeks.

  I’m there, ‘That’s, em, a relief, Sorcha. It’s a definite relief.’

  ‘The great thing about date nights,’ she goes, ‘is that it’s a chance to check in with each other.’

  ‘Er, right.’

  ‘Just to talk about things. For instance, I want you to know that I appreciate how difficult our whole – let’s just say – domestic situation must be for you. I’m admitting that it’s, like, not ideal?’

  ‘As in?’

  ‘As in, having a baby sleeping in our room – a baby that isn’t yours.’

  ‘It’s a bit random alright.’

  ‘I notice that you never look at him. Hillary, I mean.’

  ‘I look at him the odd time. There’s not a whole lot to see. He looks like Fionn. Poor kid.’

  ‘It’ll get easier, Ross.’

  ‘Ugly kids get bullied, Sorcha. It’s just a fact.’

  ‘I’m saying it’ll get easier for you.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘I mean, look at me and Ronan. It took me a long time before I could get my head around the fact that you had a son with someone else.’

  ‘It’s hordly the same thing.’

  ‘It’s very nearly the same thing.’

  ‘The difference is that Tina isn’t living in our spare room.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s not ideal, but it’ll all resolve itself eventually. And, again, I just want to say thank you for being patient with me – in relation to the other thing.’

  ‘Do you mean the sex?’

  ‘Ross, you don’t have to spell it out – but yes, I mean sex.’

  And that’s when, totally out of nowhere, she goes, ‘I need you to do something for me, Ross – as in, like, a favour?’

  I’m there, ‘What kind of favour are we talking?’ realizing that this entire conversation was building up to this.

  She goes, ‘I need you to persuade Honor to make her Confirmation.’

  I’m like, ‘Me?’

  ‘She listens to you.’

  ‘She doesn’t really.’

  ‘You know she does, Ross. You’re the only one who can get through to her.’

  ‘I’m still trying to figure out why everyone’s making such a big deal about her not making her Confirmation.’

  ‘Because it’s a thing, Ross.’

  ‘Is it, though?’

  ‘It’s a massive, massive thing – especially in Mount Anville. How’s it going to look if she ends up being the only one in her class who doesn’t make it?’

  ‘Is that not her choice, though?’

  ‘No, Ross, it’s not her choice. This is Mount Anville we’re talking about – not Newpork Comprehensive. We’re not the kind of parents who give their children wine with dinner and let them call us by our first names.’

  We let them call us motherfocking shitclowns, though. I could point that out, but I don’t.

  I just go, ‘Honor doesn’t believe in God, Sorcha.’

  But she’s not ready to hear it. She’s there, ‘Of course she believes in God! How could she not believe in God?’

  I’m like, ‘Hey, you heard her. She actually has the whole thing figured out. I mean, some of the stuff that’s apparently in the Bible, I’m beginning to think the whole thing is possibly horseshit myself.’

  ‘I was talking to Sister Dave on the phone today and she thinks Honor is just looking for attention by saying that stuff. I explained the situation to her. A new baby in the house – blah, blah, blah.’

  ‘Did you mention that it wasn’t mine?’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘I don’t know – just if she thought it was maybe relevant. Make sure she has all the facts.’

  ‘She said that she expects Honor to make her Confirmation. That’s how she put it, Ross.’

  I’m there, ‘Er, right.’

  ‘And I do as well. I’ve had the caterers booked since last September. And the morquee. The Save the Dates have already been sent out for the porty afterwards.’

  She takes a deep breath then – like she’s getting ready to say something very important.

  ‘Look,’ she goes, ‘I told you – didn’t I? – that I’m getting to the point where I’m very nearly ready to, you know –’

  ‘Have sex with me?’

  ‘You don’t have to say the words out loud, Ross. Okay, I hate sounding like a politician, but what I’m saying is this. You still have a little bit of work to do in terms of winning back my trust and also my respect. But this would definitely help. Do you understand?’

  I think I do. Although given my record for getting the wrong end of the stick, it’s probably still worth running it past her.

  I’m there, ‘Are you saying that if I can persuade Honor to make her Confirmation, you’ll stort putting out again?’

  She goes, ‘I wouldn’t have put it as chormingly as you did, Ross, but yes, that’s basically what I’m saying, yes.’

  And I’m just like, ‘Happy focking days! Leave it with me!’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Honor goes, nearly losing it she’s laughing so hord, ‘that is so funny!’

  Yeah, no, we’re in Brian, Johnny and Leo’s room and we’re playing with this basically toy bird that Honor bought them for Christmas called Pirate Pete – the Repeat Parrot. Yeah, no, it’s got this, like, voice-activated tape recorder inside it and it repeats everything you say. And there’s no prizes for guessing what use the boys have found for it.

  ‘I’ll eat your focking head,’ Leo goes, ‘and shit your eyes out my focking hole,’ then a second later the parrot goes, ‘I’ll eat your focking head and shit your eyes out my focking hole.’

  And Honor cracks up laughing again. I do as well. It is funny.

  I’m there, ‘You got new batteries for it, then?’ because Sorcha’s old man took the last set out and focked them in the bin.

  ‘Yeah,’ Honor goes, ‘it keeps them busy while I’m reading my comments. Hey, I was thinking we should do a video on Ten Items I Would Rescue from My Wardrobe if the House Caught Fire Tomorrow!’

  I’m there, ‘That sounds great, Honor. But I was wondering first could I maybe have a word with you about something?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Okay, don’t look so worried. It’s just, look, I know you’re not one hundred percent keen on the whole making your Confirmation thing.’

  ‘Er, there’s no such thing as God. The whole thing is a pack of focking bullshit.’

  ‘And some of the stuff you told me that’s in the Bible, Honor, has me asking one or two questions of my own. But, look, I’m having a pretty hord time of it at the moment, trying to fit back in here. Me and your old dear haven’t exactly clicked yet? Even though you’re too young to understand what that means.’

  ‘It means she’s not having sex with you.’

  ‘Okay, you’re obviously not too young.’

  ‘You can tell by just looking at her – focking uptight bitch.’

  ‘Yeah, if we could just bring the conversation back to the whole Confirmation thing, Honor.’

  ‘The answer is yes, Dad.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll make my Confirmation – if it’ll make your life easier.’

  I just smile at her. It genuinely upsets me that I’m the only one who can see how much good there is in her.

  I’m there, ‘It’ll make me look good in Sorcha’s eyes and – again, without going into the whys and the wherefores – I really, really need that right now.’

  She’s goes, ‘I’m not going to say the bit about rejecting Satan, though.’

  I’m like, ‘Hey, I’m sure that’s fine.’

  ‘Or about rejecting his works and his
empty promises.’

  ‘Look, if it’s anything like the Communion, it’ll just be a day out for the moms. A chance to show off their Veneers and drink their weight in Prosecco.’

  Brian goes, ‘Fock you, you motherfocking fockstick!’ and Pirate Pete – the Repeat Parrot goes, ‘Fock you, you motherfocking fockstick!’

  We all laugh our heads off, then I head off to tell Sorcha the good news. I put my head around our bedroom door to see if she’s in there. It turns out she’s not, but I end up being glad that I check because something is wrong. I can hear straight away that – Jesus Christ! – Hillary is having trouble breathing. I race over to his cot and I look in. He’s been sick again and he’s sort of, like, choking on it?

  Instinct suddenly takes over. I reach in there and I lift him out, going, ‘It’s okay, little goy! It’s okay! It’s okay!’ just trying to talk calmly to the little dude. Then I hold him to my chest and I pat his back and I make sort of, like, soothing noises? I’m there, ‘It’s okay! I’m here! Your Uncle Ross is here!’

  I step out onto the landing and he ends up vomiting all over the shoulder and down the back of my Ireland training top.

  I’m there going, ‘That’s it, little chap – get it up! Don’t worry, I can wash my shirt! Just get it all up!’

  Suddenly, Honor steps out of Brian, Johnny and Leo’s room. She stares at me for a few seconds without saying anything. Then she goes, ‘Fock’s sake!’ like she’s – I don’t know – disappointed, then she storts shouting down the stairs: ‘YEAH, YOUR BABY IS SICK AGAIN – THAT’S IF EITHER OF YOU GIVES A SHIT?’

  A second or two later, Sorcha comes chorging up the stairs, followed by him. Sorcha is frantic. She’s going, ‘WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT HAPPENED?’

  I’m there, ‘I looked in on him and he was puking his ring up. He’s fine now. I’m wearing most of his lunch on my Ireland training top, though!’

  Sorcha takes him out of my hands. Fionn raises his voice to me as well. He goes, ‘WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME? WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME STRAIGHT AWAY?’

  Honor rushes straight to my defence. She goes, ‘Yeah, he just saved your kid’s life. The least you could do is focking thank him.’

  Sorcha’s there, ‘Honor’s right, Fionn. If Ross hadn’t looked in on Hillary – oh my God! – I dread to think what would have happened!’

  Sorcha, in fairness to her, throws her free orm around me and goes, ‘Oh my God, thank you, Ross! Thank you so, so much!’