Surviving Michael

by Birchall, Joseph

‘Liam.’

  ‘I’m Julie,’ she says and reaches out her hand to me. I shake it. It’s very soft. I’ve never touched a hand that soft before.

  I take a couple of steps away. ‘So, Liam,’ she calls to me.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do you honestly think I’m cute?’

  I walk back to her. ‘Yeah, I do. Very cute in fact.’

  I stare down at her face. I’m not too shy to look at her now. Her eyes are green and she has a nice nose, but it’s her mouth I like the most. Not too red and not too pale. She smiles at me, and that makes me feel nice so I smile back.

  She reaches under the table and pulls out a small stool and puts it in front of me.

  ‘Want to sit down?’ she asks me.

  It’s a very small stool. I sit on it and pray to fuck it doesn’t collapse under me.

  Ruby

  I HOPED DANNY would show up tonight, but in my heart I knew he wouldn’t. That didn’t stop me from glancing at the door every few minutes. I kept expecting to look up and see him there smiling sheepishly at me. Or angrily would have been fine too. Sometimes the impossibility of hope is more powerful than the logic of reason. No, not sometimes. Always.

  I feel every minute of my shift go by and my tummy expanding as the night goes on. Self-consciously I rest my hand across it, but that only draws more attention to it, which makes me want to hide it more.

  How many nights have I worked here? How many drinks have I poured? How many people have I helped to get drunk? I loved it once. Moving to the music. Taking five orders at once. Showing off. The lights across my face; my reflection in the bar mirror. Boys and girls flirting with me. Me flirting back. Loving myself. Ricky smiling his appreciation for my work. We both knowing he’s lucky to have me. I loved it once. And once was only last week.

  Now I want to go home. I want everyone here to go home. I can’t even comprehend why they’re here when they could be at home.

  I’m slow tonight. Thank God Ricky asked Colin to work. He’s taking the extra weight off me, but it’s costing me his dirty looks. Be a man and say something or cut out the bitch looks you’re giving me. He’ll complain to Ricky behind my back later. Every month or two he drinks too much after work and makes a pass at me. He has a girlfriend and a two year old son. I’ve never told Danny, as I know he’ll do something crazy, and I’ve never told Ricky, because I’d rather just get on with my job. I’m hoping he tries tonight, because I’ll break his fucking arm. It’ll give me something to look forward to at the end of my shift.

  I miss my dad. He’s a big softy but by God you don’t wanna do something to upset his little girl. What was it Oscar Wilde said about girls marrying men like their fathers? Or was it Freud? Doesn’t matter. Either way, Danny reminds me a lot of him. Respectful yet proud. Open yet protective.

  I was hoping Danny and I could go back to Santa Barbara for the fall. Sort things out with my folks. They’d love Danny. He’s not my usual type, and they never liked any of them much. Maybe drive up the One to Frisco. Stop at Monterey. Drink cold beers till they throw us out of the bar, then make love on the beach. Make him so goddamn happy, he’ll never want to leave.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Ricky says to me.

  I turn my head away from him and wipe my eyes. ‘I’m fine,’ I tell him.

  ‘Is your stomach upset?’

  I suck in my tummy. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘You’re holding it a lot. Are you sick?’

  ‘No, it’s just...’ I place my hand across it.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ he says but he doesn’t see. ‘Why don’t you go sit down in the canteen for a while? Have a cup of tea or something?’

  Colin has been leaning over listening to us. ‘Jesus, Ricky,’ he butts in, ‘it’s hard enough even with the three of us.’

  ‘It’s okay, Colin, we’ll be fine.’

  ‘Fucking hell. We’ll never manage just the two of us.’

  ‘You’re right. You and I will struggle a bit, but Ruby and I could manage just fine on our own.’

  Colin just stands there not sure what to say. ‘Go back to work Colin,’ he says and then turns back to me. Colin walks away.

  ‘How many weeks are you?’ Ricky asks, nodding at my stomach.

  ‘Oh, no, it’s nothing like that...’ I tell him.

  He raises his eyebrows at me. ‘I’ve got five older sisters, Ruby, and they’ve thirteen kids between them.’

  I lower my head. ‘About eight or nine weeks,’ I tell him.

  ‘Does Danny know?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How’d he take it?’

  I don’t answer him.

  ‘That bad, huh?’ he asks.

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘It always is at first. But these things seem to work themselves out.’

  ‘I’m not so sure this time, Ricky, but thanks.’

  ‘Now go sit down for a while,’ he says. ‘I’d better get back before Colin starts crying.’

  I laugh. ‘Thanks.’

  I slowly make my way through the crowd. I’m bumped and pushed but I protect my baby like a quarterback crossing the end zone. I punch in the code for the ‘Staff Only’ door and follow the corridor down to the canteen.

  Even with the door closed I can still hear the muffled music vibrating through the room, like the cackling incoherent noise of an almost tuned in radio. I fill the kettle and switch it on, then I almost collapse into the chair. Every part of me hurts; my back, my head, even my ass. Jesus, what’s it going to be like at seven or eight months? I think of The Clash – “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” The kettle pops off, the steam filling the small room.

  I don’t want to get back up. I know I should make some tea, but I feel so tired. Just so fucking exhausted. Are you even allowed to drink tea when you’re pregnant? Or is it coffee? Christ, Ruby, you haven’t a fucking clue, girl.

  There was this soap opera named after my hometown, Santa Barbara, and my girlfriends and I used to watch re-runs on NBC after school. Every couple of months there would be a surprise pregnancy and the actual father was invariably an enigma. We loved it. Beautiful families, the best furnishings and blue skies. Not dissimilar to our own lives actually, but without all the drama.

  If those girls could see me now; alone in a tiny canteen, music pounding at the door, the small trash can overflowing with garbage, a used tea bag in the sink and all overlooked by a single hundred watt bulb dangling above. I have the drama, but without the aesthetics. And certainly without my friends or my family.

  I guess that’s my decision made. I look down at my tummy and place my hand gently over it. Danny, I’m sorry. I can only give you until Monday, then I gotta move on. I’m so sorry, dude. I gotta look after number one, and neither you nor me is number one any more.

  Nick

  CHARLIE HAS A despondent look as he approaches us.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask him.

  ‘I think he’s clicked,’ he says.

  ‘What?’ Danny says. ‘How did that happen?’

  It’s obvious that none of us had considered the possibility that he might actually get a positive result. All three of us stare in silence across the nightclub at him chatting and laughing with the girl, unaware of the six eyes now boring into the back of his head.

  It’s still quite warm when we go outside. I lean against the wall and blow smoke up at the moon. It’s so calm that the smoke hangs above me in an almost lung-shape. Cars on the bypass flash by. Charlie’s face is lit up by his phone. Danny has his back to us and is facing the road.

  Charlie and I turn when we hear footsteps coming around the corner. Danny doesn’t. Liam has a wide grin across his face. It isn’t normal and it isn’t pretty.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask him.

  ‘She’s gone home with her mates,’ he says, ‘but she gave me her number and asked me to call her.’

  ‘Can we just get this over with?’ Charlie asks.

  ‘You want to do it now?’ Liam says.

&
nbsp; ‘Let’s wait till tomorrow,’ Danny says getting up.

  ‘No,’ I tell him, ‘the consequences have to be paid immediately after.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Charlie blurts out, ‘the bet was he had to ask every chick in the place. It wasn’t to get a poxy number from some chubby chick who happens to have a fetish for fat blokes.’

  ‘Fuck you, Charlie,’ Liam says, ‘she wasn’t chubby.’

  ‘Oh, listen to him,’ Charlie says, ‘slag me, but don’t slag me bird.’

  ‘Don’t be a prick, Charlie,’ I tell him, ‘he did it fair and square.’

  The three of us look at Charlie.

  ‘Fuck it,’ he says, ‘I’ll go first.’

  He walks over to the wall and stands with his back to it, as if facing a firing squad. ‘Break my nose,’ he says, pointing a finger at Liam, ‘and I will fucking kill you. I’m not messing.’

  ‘Stand away from the wall,’ I suggest, ‘just in case your head goes back and knocks off it.’

  He takes two steps forward. Liam is opening and closing his fist. I can’t tell if he’s savouring it or dreading it.

  ‘Come on for fuck sake,’ Charlie shouts at him.

  Liam walks over to him until he’s within an arm’s length away. Charlie closes his eyes tightly. For a few moments Liam just stares at him, then turns and looks at me. I nod at him to go ahead. He raises his fist slowly to Charlie’s jaw like a golfer practising a swing.

  As he pulls his arm back one final time, Charlie opens his eyes and SMACK.

  The cracking sound is louder than I thought it’d be. Liam has hit him a good one, and Charlie has gone crashing to the ground. They both let out a shriek like a pair of girls; one holding his face, the other his hand.

  ‘Jesus,’ Danny calls out and takes a few steps back.

  Charlie lifts his body off the ground, but stays sitting down, leaning his back against the wall. He has both hands wrapped around his jaw.

  Liam bends down to him. ‘Are you bleeding?’ he asks and places his hand on his shoulder.

  Charlie knocks his arm off him. ‘Fuck off,’ he shouts at him.

  Liam walks away from him opening and closing his fist while blowing air on it.

  ‘I think that hurt me as much as you,’ he says.

  ‘I seriously fucking doubt that,’ Charlie mumbles, almost incoherently, as he has two fingers now rummaging around inside his mouth.

  I turn to Danny. ‘You want to go next?’

  ‘No, you’re alright.’

  I go and stand where Charlie stood, and I also close my eyes. Liam hits me straight away and it takes me off guard and I almost fall on top of Charlie. It hurts more than I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t as hard as Charlie’s. I go sit down beside him.

  ‘Go on, Danny. Get it over with,’ I call over to him. He seems to have taken another few steps back. Nonetheless, he takes small, timid steps towards the wall.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ Liam tells him, while stretching his fingers. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to hit you as hard.’

  Danny puts his back against the wall, but he’s breathing quite heavily.

  ‘Ready?’ he asks, and pulls his arm back in the air.

  As soon as he lets fly, Danny instinctively raises both his arms quickly to his face and ducks down.

  ‘No, wait wait,’ he yells.

  ‘Don’t be a bollocks,’ Charlie tells him.

  ‘Sorry. I wasn’t ready.’

  He takes another few deep breaths and stands up straight again.

  ‘Ready this time?’ Liam asks him.

  ‘Yeah.’

  Liam lashes out at him instantly, but Danny raises his arms again.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Liam complains.

  I nod at Charlie and we both get up and walk over to Danny. We stand either side of him and grab an arm each, holding him up against the wall. He squirms about.

  ‘I can do it myself,’ he cries out.

  ‘Hit him for fuck’s sake,’ Charlie shouts at Liam.

  ‘Don’t fucking hit me though,’ I tell him.

  For a moment I think of the people in the cars driving by. If anyone saw us... well they wouldn’t care to be honest. Liam has his fist raised as if taking aim with a gun. Charlie and I are ducking from side to side trying to avoid any collateral damage.

  The blow catches him above his left cheek and makes a cracking sound. He comes crashing down on top of me, with Charlie following and the three of us roll onto the path. Danny swears incessantly, as does Charlie. I try to get the two of them off me. Liam just laughs as he blows on his fist again.

  I stand up, reach into my trouser pocket and pull out a crushed packet of cigarettes. I find the least damaged one and throw away the rest. The cigarette is bent to the right, but I light it anyway and inhale deeply its delicious taste. The sound of the traffic comes back, and I feel colder than earlier. I look at the others. Liam has a grin on his face. The other two are not exactly smiling but they’re not too far from what could be called smiles.

  ‘I’m famished,’ Liam says. ‘Will we get something to eat?

  ‘Come on, then,’ I say. We head off back towards the car, Danny following behind, holding his cheek.

  Charlie looks back at him and smiles at me.

  ‘Apart from this,’ he says pointing to his eye, ‘that was a bit of craic.’

  ‘You think so?’ I ask him.

  ‘Yeah, I do,’ he says.

  ‘I’m glad you think so, Charlie,’ I tell him, ‘because you’re next.’

  Charlie

  ‘ARE YOU fucking mad?’ I shout at Nick. ‘There’s no fucking way I’m doing that.’

  Danny had driven us down to Max’s Kebabs in Rathmines. We’re all sitting at a table in the too brightly lit restaurant. A young couple a few tables away looks over at us when they hear me shout, but apart from them, and of course the people who work here (who’d rather be anywhere in the world except here or wherever it was they came from obviously, and who are waiting for the drunken onslaught of a crowd that, as sure as Irish rain, will invade in the next hour) we’re the only people in the place. My left eye is slightly bruised, Danny has a swollen lip and Nick keeps touching the side of his face so it must be sore. My half eaten kebab looks like it was taken out of a bin, which is exactly where it’s going now. Liam hasn’t even ordered anything, which is a pretty fucking amazing concept in its own right. When we came in, he’d looked up at the menu hanging above the staff’s heads, the bright pictures and prices there to simplify the lives of the inebriated, and he’d rubbed his belly.

  ‘I should lose a few pounds before me date with Julie,’ he’d said. A few smart comments popped into my head, but I let him have his moment in the sun, or in this case several dozen fluorescent bulbs. He’s pointing two limp fries at me now, which he’s taking from my plate.

  ‘I’d prefer to do that than what I had to do,’ he says.

  ‘You would in your bollocks,’ I tell him. ‘And if you want something to eat, fucking get something to eat and piss off eating my fries.’

  ‘You’re not even eating them,’ he says and pops them into his mouth.

  ‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Danny says.

  ‘Good,’ I tell him, ‘then you do it.’

  ‘It’s not my turn, is it?’

  ‘Then when is it your turn?’

  We all look at Nick. Nick has barely stopped eating since we got here. It’s like he hasn’t eaten in a couple of days. He looks up from his kebab.

  ‘Danny’s next after you,’ he says and goes back to his food.

  ‘Well then,’ I tell him, ‘to be honest with you, I think I’ll pass on your little fantasy there and pucker up for a punch in the face, thanks very much.’

  ‘Well, this is the thing,’ Nick says with his mouth full and he wipes his face with a huge wad of napkins. ‘All that could have happened to Liam was a few slaps and being forcefully removed from the nightclub. So for him, at least, a punch in the face was motivat
ion enough. Whereas you could actually get arrested. Even go to jail. So therefore, quid pro quo, you need somewhat of a greater motivation.’

  ‘What did he say?’ Liam says.

  ‘Go on then,’ I say to him ignoring Liam, ‘tell me what it is, because I’ll tell you now to be quite honest about it, I’ll most likely chose that instead.’

  ‘That’s entirely up to you, Charlie,’ he says, using a napkin to search for a lump of ketchup near the corner of his mouth, ‘a lot of girls like the bald look.’

  ‘There’s no fucking way you’re touching my hair,’ I tell him bluntly.

  ‘Completely smooth,’ he says, ‘not even a whisker.’

  ‘My bollocks,’ I say.

  ‘No, not your bollocks, Charlie. Your head.’

  ‘Good one,’ Danny says rubbing his hands. ‘Nice one, Nick.’

  ‘What? Shave his head?’ Liam asks, ‘that’s not harder than mine.’

  Attached to the wall beside us are small diagonal slits of mirrors glued in two rows. I bend my head sideways and straighten my hair with the tips of my fingers. There are very few heads of hair outside of Hollywood that get the attention and financial commitment that mine does. There are many in the hairdressing profession who would see it as a crime against humanity to mutilate it in any shape or form. I turn back to them.

  ‘And what happens to you lot if I do it?’

  ‘We shave off our heads too,’ Liam says.

  ‘No way,’ I tell him, ‘sure your hair is tight now as it is.’

  ‘Relax, Charlie,’ Nick says, ‘if you do it, then we all get a blond dye job.’

  Liam and Danny look at one another then up at their heads and then nod at Nick. I glance one more time in the mirror.

  ‘Okay, wait. Let’s be sensible for a minute,’ I say, ‘first of all, how the fuck am I going to just walk into a Garda station and drive away in one of their cars?’

  Nick looks at Danny. Then Liam and I look at Danny.

  ‘No fucking way,’ he says, ‘it’s not my dare.’

  ‘But you’d only be borrowing the keys,’ Nick says, ‘you can put them back on Monday morning.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says, ‘if it ever got back that I took the keys for a Garda car from my dad’s garage, he’d lose his government contract. And he’d fucking kill me.’