Ride On

by Stephen J. Martin

  ‘Well … nothing. But you need to calm the fuck down. Listen, I know you’re only a visitor here on planet Earth, but some girls want more than for you to shag them. I think she’s one of those girls.’

  ‘But that’s what I want too!’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes! Man, she’s fucking beautiful and she sings great and she has the accent and she’s dead-on. And all night talking to her I’ve had this funny feeling in me belly …’

  ‘Aesop …’

  ‘ … although that might be the curry …’

  ‘Aesop, there’s plenty of nice young ones in here. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just be yourself and grab one of them? It’s not like they won’t be up for it. Then you’d have your pipes cleaned and your brain might get a look-in.’

  ‘Not interested Jimmy.’

  ‘What about Olga?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The girl sitting next to Norman.’

  ‘The little fat yoke?’

  ‘What? No, next to Norman.’

  ‘Oh. Nah … me bollocks.’

  ‘She keeps gawking at you. Your type of bird. And she’s all right looking Aesop.’

  ‘She is not.’

  ‘She is!’

  ‘She’s not Jimmy. She’s a disgrace.’

  ‘But she …’

  ‘If I had a garden full of mickeys, Jimmy, I wouldn’t let her look over the wall.’

  ‘Oh fuckin whatever. Look, sing your bleedin song. But if Helen breaks her bollocks laughing, it’s not my fault.’

  Another thirty minutes went by and the open mike thing was starting to wind down. People were starting to get a bit pissed anyway and a lot of them were looking over at Jimmy and Aesop, waiting for the real show to start. Jimmy looked around. Aesop and Helen were talking to Norman. He caught Jessie’s eye and gave her a smile. She’d had a few pints and looked like she might be trying to muster up a bit of courage to make a move on him. He turned away and looked around the bar. He didn’t need to be encouraging that shite. He had enough on his plate tonight, landed with an impromptu gig here and his head full of a broken-hearted girl in England.

  Eventually Packie got up to the mike and called for a bit of quiet.

  ‘Now, ladies and gentlemen, we’re very lucky to have a couple of lads in tonight …’

  There was a roar.

  ‘ … now, now, hush a minute. Jimmy and Aesop from The Grove are going to give us a couple of songs now, fair play to them. And I hope you’re all going to support them when they’re playing in Cork in a couple of months?’

  Clapping and shouting.

  ‘Grand. So … Jimmy, are you right?’

  Jimmy gave him a wave and stood up.

  ‘Right Aesop,’ he said, when the guitar was strapped on and the mike fixed in front of his face. ‘Just me on this one, right?’

  Aesop nodded and took the other guitar, sitting down behind Jimmy and winking out at Helen.

  Jimmy started into ‘Big Love’ by Fleetwood Mac. It was the mental version for solo guitar that he’d seen Lindsay Buckingham do on that video. It had taken Jimmy six weeks before he was happy with his own version, and that was with the help of the transcription he’d found in Total Guitar. Perfect for a venue like this. He didn’t want there to be any confusion about who was the fucking best guitar player in the place tonight, and the pub half-full of musicians. But he needn’t have worried. The punters shut up and stared at his fingers, their mouths open. They all knew that they wouldn’t be able to do what Jimmy was doing in a blind mickey fit. Not that Jimmy was trying to be a cunt or anything. This was business. He couldn’t have them walking home going, ‘ah, sure he was only all right, like’.

  He followed with a nice fiddly version of ‘Wish You Were Here’ and then stopped to look out and see how he was doing. It was grand. They were all over him, beaming and taking pictures.

  ‘Thanks very much. And thanks for having us here tonight. I s’pose a few of you have met Aesop?’

  He looked behind and Aesop stood up and bowed.

  ‘Aesop’s been practising the bodhrán. Do you want to hear him?’

  They all yelled, the girls whooping and whistling.

  Actually, Aesop was pretty good on any percussion instrument and the bodhrán was no exception. But they didn’t know that.

  ‘Okay. Here’s the version Jagger wished he recorded …’

  Aesop led them into ‘Sympathy for the Devil’. It would’ve been a bit mad in any other venue in the world, bodhrán instead of bongos, but with the versions of songs Jimmy had heard tonight, it’d fit right in. Christ, the lads had done a bluegrass rendition of some Oasis songs earlier. Better than the originals they were too. Not that that was saying much …

  This was a good one to get the crowd going, because they could all do the Woo Woo’s near the end. Jimmy wanted them in his pocket before Aesop sang.

  All too soon the song was over and then Jimmy took a deep breath and smiled out.

  ‘Right, thanks very much. Eh … I’m afraid Aesop’s been pestering me to sing a song as well. Is that okay?’

  He grinned at the reaction and stepped to the other mike to make way for Aesop. Aesop stood up to the mike and gave it a tap.

  ‘Thanks Jimmy. Thanks for that. Eh … actually, I’m not the singer in the band. As you’ll find out in a minute. But I heard all these people getting up earlier and it sounded like a good laugh, so I thought I’d give it a go. I only know one song on the guitar anyway, and Jimmy’s going to help me out, so hopefully it won’t be too bad.’

  The punters were right in their faces now, the first four or five rows consisting of some very excited girls. Jimmy closed his eyes. They hadn’t done this one in ages and the last time they’d done it, it was with two very definite purposes in mind … called Aoife and Angela if his memory served him correctly. He heard Aesop get his fingering right on the guitar and barely opened one eye. Helen was right there, a huge, faintly curious, smile on her. Jimmy leaned in to him.

  ‘Can we get this over with before I bottle out?’

  Aesop winked and started the intro. Almost immediately the hundred or so girls in the place started screaming, so much so that he had to go around twice before he could start singing. By then it didn’t even matter. Two hundred breasts were suddenly pointing straight at him like he was the North Pole and they had magnetic nipples. The last time they’d heard this song they were teenagers in love, or just out of love, or wondering what it might be like to be in love.

  It was ‘More Than Words’, by Extreme … Aesop’s magic song.

  As Jimmy sang his first harmony line and the two hundred breasts swung around in unison to pick him out, he relaxed a bit. It sounded pretty cool. Cheesy as all fuck, but Aesop was getting away with it. Sometimes you got lucky with a crowd or a venue or a vibe, and it was working now. Jimmy put his right hand up to the side of his head so that he could close his ear and hear himself properly. Everything was grand. And then he saw Norman, right at the back of the crowd, towering over everyone and staring at Aesop like green fire was about to come out of his eyes and reduce the man to a charred cinder. Norman knew all about the magic song. He’d heard all the stories. He’d even been there for a few of them. Everything was grand … except that Aesop was a dead man for trying this on Helen.

  Jimmy finished out the mini-gig with ‘Caillte’. That was a no brainer for the punters. It was the reason they’d all turned up. Normally someone would have sung it already by now in the Open Mike, but no one had had the balls to do it tonight. They lapped it up when Jimmy sang it. For an encore he decided to go out on a limb, just to see.

  ‘I wrote this next song a few weeks ago for a friend of mine. I haven’t actually played it with just me and a guitar, so … eh … I’d appreciate it if you let me know what you think. Aesop?’

  Aesop was playing the bass line on the other acoustic and started it up.

  ‘This is a new one called “More Than Me”. It’s about … well, it�
��s about knowing when you’ve got it good. Hope you like it …’

  *

  The punters mostly cleared out of the place by one in the morning. Everyone had work the next day. There were a few people still there and Packie didn’t seem to be too bothered about shifting them. The lads were still on free booze and now that the gig was over they could relax and have a proper few pints in the lock-in. Jimmy was signing autographs at the bar and chatting to Helen and Jessie. Norman and Aesop were on their own at a table down the back of the pub.

  ‘You dirty shite, you made me a promise.’

  ‘I didn’t touch her!’

  ‘Bollocks! I know what you were at with your fucking smoochy song.’

  ‘Jesus man, it’s the only song I can sing properly on an acoustic. All the way through, y’know? To a crowd like this. It was either “More Than Words”, “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”, or “Swallow Every Drop of My Love”. What was I meant to do?’

  ‘Why didn’t you just let Jimmy sing?’

  ‘It was an Open Mike night!’

  ‘Not for the likes of you.’

  ‘Listen man, you need to chill your boots.’

  ‘What fucking boots? Didn’t you destroy them earlier today on me.’

  ‘Look Norman, I know you think I’m a scumbag with women. I know you think I’m immature and that I don’t respect women’s feelings. I know you think all I’m after is a quick ride and that I’d no more make an effort to get to know a woman than I would eat me own toenails. And that to me, women are just … Jesus, Norman, stop me if you think I’m talking shite …’

  ‘I will. Go on.’

  ‘Look … Norman, I really, really like Helen. That’s it. All I want is a chance. Jesus, it’s not like she’s throwing herself at me, is it? She might even give me the red card. But I can’t even talk to her properly if you’re giving me the hairy eyeball across the room every time. It’s very fucking unnerving.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Man, she’s nearly thirty. You can’t stop her from seeing who she likes.’

  ‘I can stop you.’

  ‘But that’s bollocks! And it’s not fair. Norman, all the shit you’ve given me down the years about women. And now here I am, balls fit to fucking explode from not riding the whole of the last week, turning down a threesome with a couple of Swedish chicks, trying to watch me language, waving off a pub full of women tonight … and why? Because I keep asking meself what Helen would think. Does that not tell you something?’

  ‘Only that the country air is doing you some good and it’s about time you started copping yourself on. Congratulations on not being fifteen any more.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘If I’m not fifteen any more, will you ever fuck off and let me at least talk to Helen alone without breathing down me neck like a fucking mountain gorilla whose banana I’m after robbing. You’re fucking up my chances of getting to know …’

  ‘You don’t have a chance, Aesop. Helen is my cousin and I’m not leaving you alone with her for five minutes. This pub was full of girls that would be more than happy to attend to your exploding balls for you tonight, but she’s not one of them.’

  ‘Helen and my balls are not the issue here, Norman, you’re the …’

  ‘Hi guys.’

  They both looked up.

  ‘What are you talking about? Sounds serious.’

  ‘Hiya Helen,’ said Aesop. ‘I was just explaining to Norman that I like … it down here in the country.’

  ‘Great. You should come down more often.’

  ‘Yeah. I think I’d like that.’

  ‘Do you want to come outside for a minute with me? We’ve never really had a proper chance to chat and it’s a bit stuffy in here. The stars are out and everything.’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘It’s cold out there,’ said Norman. ‘You should stay in in the warm.’

  ‘Come on, Aesop. Unless you’re in the middle of something? Robert? Do you mind?’

  ‘Eh … I’m not sure. I’m meant to be keeping an eye on him and …’

  ‘Oh, I’ll keep an eye on him for you.’

  ‘Yeah, but …’

  ‘Come on Aesop.’

  Aesop started to slowly slide out from behind the table, grabbing his coat and smokes and looking sideways at Norman. Norman put his hand on Aesop’s arm.

  ‘Helen, I think you should just stay in here and …’

  ‘We’ll be fine.’

  ‘But Helen …’

  ‘Robert!’

  Norman and Aesop both stopped dead and looked at her. Then she smiled.

  ‘Come on Aesop.’

  They both walked out together into the car park.

  ‘How the fuck did you do that?’ said Aesop.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That voice you did … Jesus, I felt about six years old!’

  ‘I’m a schoolteacher, remember?’

  ‘Christ, I’d say you don’t have many problems in the classroom, do you?’

  She laughed.

  ‘Not too many.’

  ‘I think Norman’s still probably stuck to his seat in there. I’ve never seen real fear in that man’s eyes in twenty-five years until just now.’

  ‘Ah, Robert’s a dote. Gentle as a lamb.’

  ‘A lamb. Right. You’ve obviously never seen him eat a lamb, then, have you?’

  She laughed again, leading the two of them past the tarmac car park and into a field. There were picnic tables and benches set up, and a small playground for kids. Further along there was a gate into another field. This one was a rose garden, but the bushes were bare now except for the coats of frost that each one wore, glistening under the moonlight. As she closed the gate behind them, she put her hand in his. It felt warm. They went on along the path between the rows of shrubbery and eventually came to another bench. She tucked her long coat under her legs behind her and sat down. His coat only came to his waist but he sat down next to her anyway, immediately feeling a slight dampness and a rush of freezing cold seep into his jeans. He didn’t give a fuck. He was too busy being mesmerised by the way her eyes seemed to give out a light of their own.

  And anyway, it actually felt kind of nice on his curry-damaged arsehole.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘How pissed off was he on the phone?’ said Aesop, when they were settled into their seats.

  ‘Well, I’ve heard him worse …’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘But not by much. Did you ride her?’

  ‘A gentleman doesn’t say.’

  ‘Right. So, did you ride her?’

  ‘I’m not messing Jimmy, what happened is between me and Helen.’

  ‘So you’re not going to fill me in on all the details?’

  ‘I’m saying nothing about it.’

  ‘Give us a look at your passport for a minute.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I want to make sure it’s you.’

  ‘Listen Jimmy, forget about it. If it’ll shut you up, let’s just say my feelings haven’t changed, okay? Are you eating them nuts?’

  ‘Here.’

  ‘So who’s going to be looking after me in London if Norman’s in Dublin having a sulk?’

  ‘Dónal and Norman reckon you’ll be grand. Your stalker doesn’t know where you’ll be. Anyway, it’ll give Norman a chance to cool down. And he misses his bird he says.’

  ‘Yeah … his bird …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Every time anyone mentions Trish, you get all quiet. Is it the shame of it?’

  ‘No. It’s just … listen Jimmy, if I say something, will you do your best to listen to it without calling me a fuckin’ eejit?’

  ‘Can I just think it?’

  ‘Yeah … I s’pose so.’

  ‘Go on so.’

  ‘When I was talking to Trish that time … y’know, with the badger and all … she wasn’t fuckin’ normal?’

  ‘Wh
at do you mean normal?’

  ‘She said she wanted to talk to me. She needed to show me something. Not the picture, something else. And she said not to tell Norman about it. She wanted to meet me for dinner. Just the two of us, like.’

  ‘What? That’s a bit fucked.’

  ‘I know. I don’t know what she’s after, but I’m not into doing all this behind-the-scenes shite. Norman is my mate and if she wants me to shag her or something, then I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘You mean about shagging her? Because …’

  ‘No, you fuckin’ dipstick. I’m not shagging her either way. But what do I do about the psycho fuckin’ vibes I’m getting?’

  ‘Did you tell Norman what she said?’

  ‘Jesus, no. I already broke his door, wrecked his shoes, scared the bejaysis out of his girlfriend twice, served him up salad cream sandwiches for his dinner, smashed his phone, and then I disappear into the night with his cousin. If he’s anywhere near breaking point, do you think I want to tell him his bird is looking for me to throw a length into her on top of everything else?’

  ‘Fair point. So what are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe I can get her on her own for two minutes and tell her to fuck off and leave me alone.’

  ‘Maybe the curious incident of the badger in the night did the trick?’

  ‘Maybe it did. But I don’t know man. She’s a bit mental, that one.’

  ‘Are you sure she said all that stuff about meeting her privately? You know the way you’re an awful dopey cunt sometimes …’

  ‘I’m telling you man it wasn’t right, the stuff she was coming out with. The girl was saying all this shit to me, and Norman’s in the next room. That’s why I was in the bedroom at all that night. I didn’t want him hearing what was going on.’

  ‘Look, just give her a call. See what she wants, okay? If she wants you instead of Norman, you’re going to have to say something. Unless she just accepts that it’s not going to happen and never mentions it again to either of you. Then it can just be a little secret between the two of you. Or, well, the three of us.’

  ‘Ah … fuck this shit anyway. Who needs all this crap when I’m already after telling Helen that … eh …’

  ‘Yeah? What did you tell Helen, Aesop?’