Surviving Michael

by Birchall, Joseph

  ‘We can’t let him go out like that,’ Charlie says, standing up. ‘Look at the state of him.’

  Liam pulls the bottom of his T-shirt down over his exposed umbilical mound of a belly button. It’s one of those disgusting inside out ones and doesn’t look dissimilar to the Hellfire Club on top of the Dublin Mountains. Either that or even his belly button is fat.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ he protests.

  ‘Have you nothing else to wear?’ Nick asks him.

  ‘I have a suit.’

  I remember that suit. I think it was at Charlie’s sister’s wedding. It was a pair of dark brown trousers (Nick called them Guinness shite brown), an open-necked cream shirt and a pair of runners. Charlie told us that his Mam had ordered them online from an American website that catered to the ‘larger man,’ although Nick said it was for the ‘larder man.’

  ‘You mean the one from www.bigfatfuck.com,’ Charlie laughs. ‘You’re not wearing that again. You’ll look like a bouncer.’

  ‘Alright then,’ Liam concedes, ‘I’ll buy another shirt.’

  ‘And shoes,’ I say.

  ‘And get some trousers that don’t come with an elasticated waistline,’ Nick adds.

  ‘And while you’re at it,’ Charlie says, ‘do something with your hair as well. It looks like a fucking crow’s nest.’

  ‘And shave,’ Nick tells him, ‘I know beards are getting fashionable again but that yoke looks like someone shit on your face.’

  We all laugh at this.

  I don’t think I’ve ever purposefully looked at Liam’s hair before, but now that my attention is drawn to it, Charlie’s analogy isn’t too far from the truth. Charlie takes out his mobile phone.

  ‘I’m getting a shirt and that’s it,’ Liam says, ‘I’m grand the way I am.’

  ‘You’re so parsimonious,’ I tell him.

  ‘Stop fucking calling me words I don’t understand,’ says Liam. ‘You didn’t go to fucking Harvard College or something.’

  ‘Harvard is a university, not a college, and besides I can’t help it if I’m self-educated.’

  ‘In that case,’ Liam says, ’your teacher was a fucking eejit.’

  ‘There are some words, Danny,’ Nick butts in, ‘that are best left written on the page.’

  Why is everyone giving me hassle all of a sudden?

  ‘I’ll get you an appointment with my hairdresser,’ Charlie says, as he puts the phone to his ear.

  ‘Your hairdresser?’ Liam laughs. ‘Who the fuck does he think he is? Bleedin’ Cher?’

  ‘I’m only trying to help you,’ Charlie says, and then into the phone, ‘hi Justin, it’s Charlie. Are you free?’

  ‘I’m free,’ Liam calls out, and we all start laughing so loudly that Charlie has to leave the room.

  While he’s out of the room, Nick turns to me. ‘So, where do you think we should go tonight, Danny?’

  Why is he asking me? I don’t know where any of the decent nightclubs are. He’s the one who’s single. Jesus. Thank God I didn’t say that to him.

  ‘I’m not too sure, Nick,’ I say. ‘What about Rory’s?’

  ‘Nah, it’s always full of nurses on a Saturday night. And where there’s nurses, there’s always...’

  ‘Cops,’ Liam says.

  ‘What about the Odeon?’ I suggest.

  The Odeon has a reputation for being a bit of a meat market; full of aging womanisers, well past their prime, and divorced women looking for a bit of bedroom distraction for the night. I’ve often heard it said that if you didn’t get laid there, then there was something wrong with you. But I’d heard the same stories about other places too – Newcastle, Glasgow, Prague, Tuam. All urban myths, and I have no reason to believe this one either, but we weren’t sending Liam there to find the love of his life.

  ‘There was a stabbing there last week,’ Liam says.

  ‘That’s normal these days,’ Nick says.

  ‘Well, I never heard of a bird stabbing a bouncer before,’ Liam says. ‘It’s a kip. I’ll be disinfecting me nob for weeks.’

  ‘What do you think of the Odeon?’ Nick asks Charlie as he comes back into the room.

  ‘Jesus, not much. The last time I was there, this fifty year old comes up to me...’

  Charlie looks over at Nick, who’s waving his hands at him and shaking his head.

  ‘...but, to be honest, I heard it’s under new management, so it could be a good spot.’

  ‘Me arse it is,’ Liam protests.

  ‘Well, then,’ I ask him, ‘would you prefer going to some place that we always go to and where someone might know you?’

  Liam doesn’t reply. ‘The Odeon it is so,’ Nick says.

  ‘By the way,’ Charlie says to Liam, ‘I’ve made you an appointment at four o’clock for your hair. Just ask for Justin.’

  ‘He’d better not give me a girlie haircut like yours.’

  ‘Anything’ll be better than that mop on your head,’ Charlie says. ‘It’ll take him a couple of hours just to make it look half normal.’

  ‘A couple of hours? What’s this going to cost me?’

  ‘A hundred if you’re lucky.’

  ‘A hundred fucking euro. Are you mental? I never said money was no option. I wouldn’t spend that much on haircuts in a year. It only costs me four euro in the village.’

  ‘Four euro? You were ripped off mate,’ Charlie tells him.

  ‘Look, forget about it. I’m not doing it and that’s it.’

  ‘You are fucking doing it,’ Charlie says.

  ‘I’m not. Now fuck off the lot of yous.’

  ‘You have to do it, Liam.’

  For a second, I’m not sure who says this. It’s like it was spoken by someone who isn’t even in the room.

  ‘No, Nick. I don’t have to do it,’ Liam says.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ Nick says.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you started it.’

  ‘What are you fucking talking about, Nick? Started what?’

  ‘You’re the one who dared Michael.’

  Hearing his name again, and spoken by Nick, is like having him here in the room with us. No one says anything, so I’m not the only one who feels like this.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Liam says quietly.

  ‘You did, Liam,’ Nick says. ‘We all did.’

  ‘We were just kids, Nick,’ Charlie says.

  ‘Yeah, that’s what everyone tells us. And that’s what we tell ourselves.’

  ‘Has this got anything to do with Aoife?’ I ask him.

  ‘No, it fucking hasn’t anything to do with Aoife,’ Nick says. ‘It has to do with us. The four of us.’

  ‘We can’t bring him back, Nick,’ Charlie says.

  ‘I know that,’ Nick says. ‘Of course I fucking know that. I’m not trying to.’

  ‘Then what? What’s the point in talking about it?’

  ‘Because we never fucking talk about it.’

  ‘Because there’s no point,’ Charlie says. ‘Nothing we do or say will bring him back.’

  ‘No, but we could finish what we started with him.’

  ‘Finish what?’ I ask.

  ‘Finish the game, Liam. You dared Mike. Now, I dare you. And then we’re next. We all take our turn.’

  ‘Why, Nick? What’s the point?’ I ask him.

  ‘Because we’ve never done anything for him. Never done anything to remember him. And maybe if we did, we might get something back that we lost. Something that I lost anyway. I don’t know about you.’

  Nobody says anything for a while. Nobody moves. It’s like we’re all waiting on something to happen. And then it does.

  ‘Okay,’ says Liam. ‘I’ll do it. But I’m not spending more than a hundred euro on a fucking haircut.’

  ‘Charlie?’ Nick asks.

  ‘Okay, I’m in.’

  ‘Danny?’

  ‘I’m not doing the same one as Liam. Ruby would kill me.’

  ‘You won’t. We’ll all be d
oing something different.’

  ‘Okay, then,’ I say. ‘I’m in.’

  The doorbell rings. Somehow, I already know who it is.

  Ruby

  I’M NOT SURE WHY, but I felt an enormous sense of relief when I saw Danny’s car outside Nick’s place. His mother looked worried when I called over earlier to their house looking for him.

  ‘Hi Nick,’ I say. ‘Is Danny there?’

  ‘We’re just on the way out, Ruby,’ Nick says.

  ‘And what? I can’t see him?’

  Nick looks a little uptight. Even more uptight than usual. ‘No, of course not,’ he says, and then turns around and calls him.

  Danny’s followed by the other two. They’re giddy as freakin’ schoolboys. I see Charlie pushing Liam into Danny, and he giggles. Charlie kills his grin as soon as he sees me.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ Danny says, ‘we’re just on the way out.’

  ‘Yeah, so Nick told me.’

  He takes his car keys out of his pocket. ‘So, we’ll talk later, okay?’

  ‘No, Danny.’

  There’s a moment’s pause in which everyone sobers up. Danny and I look at each other and then he looks at the ground. Nick breaks the silence.

  ‘We’ll wait in the car, Danny,’ he says, and puts his hand out for the keys. Danny doesn’t move, so Nick just takes the keys out of his hand, and the others push by him. They say hello to me, to be fair, but I ignore them.

  Danny always does this thing when he’s fucked up, and knows he’s fucked up, even if he doesn’t know when or what he’s actually fucked up. He just freezes and sort of shuts down mentally. I can picture him as a little school boy, whenever a teacher gave him shit, and he’d just lower his head and hope that when he looked up, it’d all be over. Avoidance as a form of defence.

  ‘Danny we need to talk.’

  ‘Okay,’ he says, ‘let’s talk.’

  ‘I don’t want to do this here.’

  ‘Do this?’ he says and looks at me again. ‘Ah for fuck sake. Are you breaking up with me?’

  ‘I don’t want to, Danny.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t want to, but you are.’

  ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘For fuck sake, Ruby. I know I haven’t been around much.’

  ‘Haven’t been around much? I hardly ever see you anymore.’

  ‘Please, Ruby, don’t. I just...’

  ‘Danny, I’m not breaking up with you.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I do love you. Whatever happens, I do love you,’ I say.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We just need to talk.’

  ‘Is there someone else? Is that what this is about?’

  ‘Can we meet later?’

  ‘No, I can’t. I’m busy later with the lads.’

  ‘Well that’s a big fucking surprise.’

  ‘Look, we’re doing something later. Honest. I’m sorry. Just tell me now.’

  I look over and see the others in the car.

  ‘No, not here.’

  He takes my hands and looks at me with those brown eyes of his that I just can’t resist. I sigh. A relief flows over me as if I’ve been holding my breath all this time.

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  He lets go of my hands and steps back. The color he’s picked up after all this nice sunshine evaporates right off his face. I wasn’t expecting that reaction, but then that wasn’t the part I had been thinking about telling him.

  ‘Holy fuck. How did that happen? I mean I know how it happened... are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m positive.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘Neither was I.’

  He lets out a deep breath. ‘Jesus, you’re after knocking the wind right out of me. I mean, it’s okay. No, sorry, I mean it’s more than okay. It’s great.’

  He reaches over and gives me a loving hug. Inside I’m... I think I’m going to vomit, but hold it in behind a forced smile.

  ‘Well done. Or congratulations or something. Wow, me a dad. Did you tell anyone yet? Did you tell your mum?’

  ‘No, not yet?

  ‘She’s going to go nuts.’

  ‘No shit.’

  He has a big stupid smile all over his face, and takes my hands again. ‘My dad will go mad. Or not. Wow. You haven’t told anyone yet?’

  ‘No, well, except...’

  ‘Except who?’

  I bow my head, and hold my face with my hands. I cry because I’m supposed to cry, but no tears come. He hugs me again, but I feel like I want to hit him. To punch him in the face.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘we’ll get through this.’

  ‘Oh, Danny.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s okay.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Hey, it’s not your fault. Or at least it’s only half your fault.’ He attempts to laugh. ‘It happened. It’s going to be great.’

  I look up at him.

  ‘Who did you tell?’ he asks.

  I turn away.

  ‘What’s wrong, Ruby? Who did you tell?’

  ‘Someone else. I’m so sorry.’

  ’Sorry for what?’

  I cry again. This time the tears come.

  ’Sorry for what, Ruby?’

  I look him in the eyes. At least I can do that. His love. His confusion. Hapless adoration. But look him in the eyes, Ruby. At least you can do that.

  ‘It’s not yours,’ I tell him, the words having to crash through the tears streaming down my face now.

  ‘It’s not my what?’

  My head sinks further down, like a criminal awaiting the guillotine’s blade.

  ‘It’s not my what, Ruby?’

  Liam

  I’M SITTING IN the back of the car with Charlie, but he keeps lookin’ out the back window at Danny and Ruby, the nosey bollocks.

  ‘Would ye turn off that RTE shite and put on a few decent sounds for fuck’s sake,’ I says to Nick.

  ‘I’m listenin’ to this,’ he says.

  ‘Charlie,’ I says turnin’ to him, but he makes this mad face out the window and I hear Ruby scream. When I turn to look, I see Danny stormin’ towards us and he looks royally pissed off. Ruby is gettin’ up off the ground and calls after him, but he just ignores her. She must of givin’ him the big heave ho, which is a pity actually ‘cause she was an alright bird and at the very least I’m goin’ to miss her tits in those tight summer T-shirts that she always wore.

  When he opens the car door, I hear Ruby callin’ out, ‘Danny please,’ but he just slams the door. There’s silence for a few seconds. I think he’s goin’ to tell us all to get the fuck out, but he starts the car and puts it into gear. Nobody says anythin’ and all I can hear is Marian Finucane rabbitin’ on about those wankers in the banks.

  ‘Any chance of a few sounds?’ I says.

  Nick and Charlie look at me, but Danny changes the station anyway. It’s a Beautiful Day by U2 comes on. Fuckin’ deadly song, and I start to sing it a bit, but I’m a crap bleedin’ singer. Danny and Charlie look at each other and then go back to starin’ out the window.

  Haven’t heard a bit of U2 in ages. They’re a bit like beans on toast. Somethin’ that you’ve grown up on and you forget how delicious they are when you haven’t tried them for ages. But then you get bored of it after a while, ’cause in the end, it’s still just beans and toast.

  I’m not too keen on this chat up a chick idea. I don’t know how I let meself get talked into it. Fuckin’ eejit. If I end up havin’ to do it then I’m goin’ to get pissed outta me mind. Perhaps after a few, the lads’ll get bored with it. I can’t imagine Charlie goin’ up to that kip and not wantin’ to ride somethin’ there. Danny’ll be all depressed. He’s always fuckin’ depressed anyway. Least now he’ll have a good excuse.

  As for Nick. It’s hard to know with Nick. Sometimes when he gets his teeth into somethin’ he won’t let go unt
il he hears somethin’ snap. And I’m afraid that it’ll be me doin’ the snappin’.

  I’ve never just walked up to a bird and talked to her. Apart from that hooker that time in Amsterdam, of course. But that was different. Maybe that’s what I should do? Think in me mind that they’re hookers.

  I always get a bit of a slaggin’ that I went to the hooker that time. We were over there for a mate of a mate’s stag weekend, and we were walkin’ home from somewhere at about four in the mornin’, and there they were, just like in the films. Girls in the windows. Blondes, brunettes, blacks, Asians; all shapes and sizes. None of the lads wanted one, but I had to. I’d never been with a bird before, and I just wanted to make sure that all me bits and pieces worked. And I wanted to see what it’d feel like.

  I went up to her and she let me in. I wouldn’t say she looked too enthusiastic about ridin’ me, which kind of put me off a bit. Anyway, I said to her how much? Fifty euro she said and put her hand out. I gave her the money and she lay me down on the bed in the tiny room behind the window where she’d been standin’. She took off me cacks and then me jocks and looked at it. Her lack of enthusiasm was puttin’ me off but she grabbed me mickey anyway and started pullin’ at it. She was reefin’ at it but it wasn’t doin’ anythin’ for me, and to be honest it sort of hurt a bit, so I asked her to take her bra off.

  She told me she wanted another twenty euro. For fuck sake, I mumbled to meself. ‘Okay,’ I said, and she put out her hand. Fuckin’ hell, she wanted the twenty spot there and then, so I had to get back up off the bed and look for where she threw me cacks and then took out another twenty from me wallet.

  She took off her top, and I did get a bit excited when I saw real tits close up. I wanted to grab them, but I knew she’d ask me for another twenty spot. Eventually I closed me eyes and lay back, but there wasn’t a whole lot happenin’ down there so I started to think about this Polish bird that worked in the Centra beside me. She was an absolute ride and thinkin’ of her never failed to get me goin’.

  When I was harder she put her mouth around me cock, but it felt more like a vacuum pipe than an actual bird’s mouth. I looked at her for a while, but it was more out of curiosity than a turn on.