Tales of the Bright, the Dark & the Bizzare

by Maurice Connolly

  There was a rather cruel aspect to this procedure in one respect: the unfortunate girls who weren’t endowed with some form of natural beauty were often left standing, whilst the pretty ones were being asked out to dance right left and centre. The girls who were left standing there were called wallflowers. They just stood around, feeling miserable, their feelings hurt, watching the other dancers enjoy themselves. Worse still, they knew this humiliation-would be repeated over and over. Sometimes, out of pity, a family friend or a girl’s brother might ask her out to dance.

  Every area, or small town, had a few peculiar—or strange—characters. One of those was Weird Willie. He attended the Friday night dances without fail. However, he never danced himself but took in every minute detail of the night’s proceedings. He was renowned for casting vile aspersions at some of the dancers—especially the girls. Hacker, inadvertently, found himself standing next to Weird Willie who intoned in a solemn monotone, for Hacker’s benefit that the fattish girl standing over by the pillar was supposed to be a great ride. In fact, the fattish girl standing over by the pillar was far more likely to be a member of The Legion of Mary.

  “That so,” Hacker replied. “Any more good things around, Willie?”

  “Why are you asking me that, Hacker? Haven’t you Susie.”

  “Susie’s not like that. Susie is a decent girl.”

  “She is in my hole,” Weird Willie responded, moving away, as some other item of interest caught his attention.

  Susie had a flame burning for Hacker and he had walked her home a few times. They usually ended up in some quiet spot. He knew well that Susie was the best court he had ever met. The big downside was that a lot of people shared Weird Willie’s perception of Susie’s morals. Hacker resented the smart-ass comments at work about himself and Susie.

  He decided he’d have to set his sights on someone else. He also realized that he wasn’t getting any younger, so maybe it was time he started to take things serious. He had taken a fancy to Margo and knew her as a regular dance partner.

  As he gazed about he quickly became aware that Margo and Susie were both in attendance. This could be a bit tricky, he concluded. The Swingin’ Dickies were going hell for leather. Their white shirts were stained with sweat.

  Margo, Alice and Eileen were in high demand, on the floor for every dance. They decided they’d sit one out and have a rest and a smoke.

  They moved back to the seats by the wall.

  “How are you getting on?” Margo asked.

  “That Lar Hennessy is pestering me the whole time,” Eileen said. “He’s over like a flash for every dance. What am I going to tell him? I can’t keep dancing with that idiot all night. Did you see the cut of him?”

  The other two laughed.

  “Ignore him when the next ladies’ choice is announced,” Alice proposed. “That way he might take the hint. Ask someone else out.”

  “I’d like to meet Nick Harris. Maybe I’ll ask him. He’s on his own and he’s great fun.”

  “Yeah, he’s a nice fella,” Alice agreed. “He danced with me.”

  “He was heading towards me once, only that other yoke got there first.”

  “Give Nick the old glad eye,” Margo suggested. “Smile over at him.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “I saw Hacker coming in,” Alice informed Margo.

  “I copped him,” Margo replied. “The pubs must be closed.”

  “He looked well,” Alice said. “He’s a fairly good looking fella.”

  “You think so? I see nothing special about him. He’s just another Mister Average.”

  “That friend of his—Toddy, they call him,” Eileen smiled. “He’s full of himself. I’d say he loves looking at himself in the mirror. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

  “Oh God help us,” Alice remarked. “And he’s useless at dancing—he has two left feet.”

  Hacker moved forward, deciding he’d ask Margo out to dance.

  “And now folks,” the band’s frontman announced, “the next dance will be a ladies’ choice. Come on girls, this is your chance—don’t be shy.” And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Susie was standing in front of Hacker.

  “How about it?” she said. “Are you idle?—that’s what some fellows say.”

  “I’m idle all right.” They moved out on the dancefloor. “How are you, Susie?”

  “I’m okay. Why did you look away? I thought you were trying to avoid me?”

  “No way. Why would I do that?” They danced about slowly to the romantic strains of ‘Carolina Moon.’ “It’s just that I had a couple of girls promised a dance.”

  “The country one?”

  “She’s one of them.”

  “She seems to be fairly popular. You like her?”

  “She’s a nice girl.”

  “Nicer than me? Better looking, is she?”

  “God no. Sure you’re a terrific, gorgeous looking girl. Didn’t I always tell you that?”

  “I’ve better legs than her, anyhow—her legs are thick above the ankles.”

  “Mmmh, I never noticed that.”

  Susie pressed in against him. A number of couples were dancing close in, with their heads resting on their partners’ shoulders. Some of the men had their hands clasped around the girls’ lower backs. Margo passed close by, but she averted Hacker’s gaze.

  “I thought I might have heard from you during the week?” Susie queried.

  “I was busy. I had a few things on my mind. I bought a second-hand motor.”

  “Did you?” Susie said eagerly. “Is it nice? What colour is it?”

  “Black—there’s only the one colour.”

  “Is it comfortable? Are the seats comfortable?”

  “It’s okay—it’s nothing to shout home about.”

  “Will you take me for a spin, Hacker?”

  “I will, Susie. As soon as I’m a little better at driving.”

  “Why? I don’t mind. We could pull in someplace nice an’ quiet.”

  “I’d be afraid I might go off the road, hit a ditch and kill you or something. Give me a bit of time.”

  The three-dance sequence ended and to keep Susie at arm’s length Hacker promised they’d dance later. He looked round to see where Margo was standing and positioned himself close by. As soon as “Take your partners for the next dance” rang out, he rushed over and reached Margo first. He was disappointed when a samba was announced. The samba is a particularly energetic form of dance and soon Hacker’s shirt felt wet with perspiration. Also, it didn’t offer much opportunity for making conversation. The session finished off with the can-can.

  “That was tough going,” he said. “Margo, would you like a mineral, to cool off?”

  “Okay. I’m feeling thirsty, to tell the truth.”

  They made their way to the mineral bar and located a table near the back. Hacker paid for, and returned with two glasses and a bottle each of orange and lemonade. Margo thanked him. He took out and mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

  “God, it’s warm tonight,” he mumbled.

  “You can say that again. I’d say there’s thunder around.”

  “Could be. What do you think of the band—the Dixies?”

  “They’re good, aren’t they?”

  “Not as good as the ones last Friday night. They were what you’d call musicians.”

  “I wasn’t here last Friday night.”

  “That’s right. I missed you.”

  “I’m sure you did. I was far from your mind I’d say.”

  “No, I’m serious. I look forward to dancing with you—honestly.”

  “You probably walked Susie Baker home.”

  “God no, I didn’t.”

  “I saw you before, going off out with her. She has a reputation. Don’t you know that?”

  “Don’t believe all you hear—as far as I can see she’s a decent girl.”

  “She is in my eye! That’s not what I heard.”

  “You heard wrong the
n. Anyway, I only walked her to her door.”

  A fellow passing slapped Hacker on the back.

  “How yah, Hacker? Hello Margo.”

  “Hello Pat,” they both reply.

  “Do you feel the heat? The shirt is stuck to my back.”

  “That’s why we’re in here,” Hacker responded.

  “You know something, Hacker, I’d murder a pint right now.”

  “You’ll have to do with this,” Hacker replied, holding up the mineral bottle.

  “That’s the worst of it.” Pat moved on.

  “I won’t though,” Hacker said, taking one of the Baby Powers out of his pocket and pouring it in with the lemonade.

  “Jesus, hadn’t you enough to drink before you came in?”

  “It was late when I got to town. I only had the one bottle.”

  “I thought I smelt whiskey off your breath. Or maybe you thought the mints might cover it up.”

  “Margo, listen—I wasn’t with Susie Baker last week. Ask anyone.”

  “Sexy Susie, she’s called.”

  “You’re the one I’d really love to be with. You’re a lovely, gorgeous looking girl, you know that.”

  “Oh God! Do you tell that to all the girls? That they’re gorgeous?”

  “No. Of course I don’t.”

  “Maybe you’re one of those old smooth talkers. Are you?”

  “A smooth talker,” Hacker repeats, grinning.

  “An old palaverer?”

  “I’m anything but. Instead of that I’m no good at making small talk with girls.”

  “Go on with you now.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t believe that”

  “You have a lovely smile. Can I ask you something?”

  “Go on?”

  “Margo, can I give you a lift home?”

  “On what?” she smiled again. “On the bar of the bike?”

  “On the bar of the bike! We’d look well going along. No, I’m after buying a car—a second-hand one.”

  “You are! That’s nice, that’s really nice. It’s a surprise. Is it in good nick?”

  “It’s okay. It’s a Ford Prefect.”

  “I don’t know much about them. What colour is it?”

  “Black. I’d love to drive you home. Are you on?”

  “Listen, I came in with two friends—I wouldn’t like to walk out on them. We share the cost. You know the way it is? I’ll go for a spin with you some other night—if you like?”

  “You will! That’s great. Tomorrow night?”

  “No, they’d be giving tongue at home if I went out two nights running.”

  “Sunday night then?”

  “Can I trust you, I wonder?”

  “Course you can.”

  “I’m not too sure of you at all, to be honest”

  “You can be. Come on, what do you say?”

  “Do you know where I live?”

  “Your brother told me. Remember when I told you I played football against him? Will I call along?”

  “No, I’ll be walking down the road.”

  “They’d be particular about who you went out with? Is that it?”

  “No, it’s not that. Call along if you like then.”

  “It’s okay—I’ll meet you on the road like you said. What time?”

  “Let me see.” She clicked her fingers. “We finish up around seven, then the supper and getting ready. Say about eight o’clock.”

  “That’s terrific. I’ll be looking forward to it. We’ll head for the seaside, maybe—if it’s a nice evening.”

  “There was a bus outing to the seaside a few weeks ago. When I was there I went to this fortune teller, and you know what she told me? She said that in the not-too-distant future I was going to meet a tall dark-haired man. You’re tall and you’re dark-haired.”

  “I wouldn’t mind what she said. She probably tells the same thing to every girl. She was hardly going to tell you that in the not too distant future you were going to meet a randy little leprechaun.”

  “Oh go on with you!” she smiled again.

  A girl at the next table jumped to her feet, in an obvious temper, knocking over a mineral bottle. She stormed out to the dancefloor. Her partner, embarrassed looking, glanced about, hoping no-one he knew witnessed what happened. He then got up and sneaked out to the dancing area also.

  “What was that about, I wonder?” Margo commented.

  “She didn’t look too happy.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Listen, Margo, I was going to ask you out before.”

  “You were?”

  “I was afraid you’d say no.”

  It is announced over the loudspeaker that the next dance will be ‘The Siege of Ennis.’

  “Come on,” Margo said, rising, “we’ll dance it.”

  “Wait’ll I finish this.”

  “Your precious whiskey!”

  He tossed back the remainder of his drink and they went out on the floor. Pretty soon the ‘The Siege of Ennis’ had the Brylcreem and sweat running down the side of Hacker’s face. Beads of perspiration stood out on the girls’ faces. Margo, laughing, seemed to be enjoying herself hugely, swinging about in gay abandon. Susie Baker glared over at Hacker.

  When the session ended, Margo went over to chat with Alice. Hacker went in to the gents’ toilet. He contemplated drinking the other Baby Power but decided against it—he might make a fool of himself and say stupid things. He felt pretty pleased with himself that Margo had agreed to meet him. His ego got a big boost. In the back of his mind Susie was still there though. He glanced in the mirror and mopped his face. He’d love to take Susie home when the dance ended. He’d like to try out the back seat of the car. He knew, though, that if Margo heard, then that would be the end of that. Women had a way of getting to know things. Stevie the carpenter came in.

  “How’s it goin’, Hacker?”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you after shiftin’?” Stevie asked, crossing over to the urinal.

  “I think so. Yourself?”

  “I don’t know. I think she’s only a teaser. I’ll have to wait and see. Heh, did you see what happened to Weird Willie?”

  “No, what?”

  “He got a few right clatters. You didn’t see the commotion?”

  “No. I was in the mineral bar.”

  “You missed it. This big guy overheard a remark Willie passed about his sister. He jumped on him—Christ, he had Willie down on the floor and was batin’ the head off him. They had to pull him off him.”

  “A bit of a batin’ wouldn’t go astray on Willie.”

  “You’re right there—he’s a dangerous whore. I knew that was comin’ to him for a good while.” They both go back out.

  Another Friday night dance drew to a close at The Golden Slipper. Hacker accompanied Margo and Alice down to where the hackney car was parked. Eileen had got her wish as regards Nick Harris; they had gone off to some quiet corner for a cuddle. Hacker had a word with Mossie Dourney about motor cars generally. Eileen, beaming, soon arrived along. As they drove away Hacker waved them all goodbye. One part of him was now telling him to go back to the front area of the dancehall and look for Susie. She didn’t appear to have picked up with anyone. The other part was telling him that Margo was too fine and decent a girl to mess up.

  He stood back against the wall. Soft rain had begun to fall and he pulled up the collars of his coat. He was glad he didn’t have to fall back on the old bike tonight. There was a chip van parked down a piece, at the other side of the dimly lit road. A small queue was starting to form. He contemplated purchasing a bag of their greasy chips. Then he remembered what Toddy had told him: that when the fat guy in the van leant forward drops of sweat fell into the boiling oil. Each time a drop fell in, it made a hissing, sizzling sound.

  The wet street looked bleak. He noticed two rats nibbling at a half bag of discarded chips. In the far-off dark distance a dog barked and several others howled a response. He cupped his hands, cracked a match an
d lit a cigarette. He glanced up and down the road—and then, quickly, back again. There she was, Susie, standing there. She, too, lit up a cigarette and stood back into a doorway.

  Game of Chance

  Things were not going too smooth in the home of Jimeen Holohan and his wife Minnie. Fights and recurring fights seemed to be the order of the day. Minnie was witnessing all her school friends pushing prams and buggies all over the place. But she had no baby to display to the watching world. This aspect of life would hardly worry some women; it was well known that some women deliberately choose to remain childless. Not Minnie though. She was determined to have a baby no matter what.

  The trouble started when Jimeen was picked to play in goal for his local pub in the pubs soccer league. The team was short a player and Jimeen was drafted in to make up the eleven. Now Jimeen never bothered playing sport of any sort. That’s why he was placed in goal—the ball might hit off him or something.

  In the course of a game against their arch rivals a crucial penalty was awarded to the opposing team. It was up to Jimeen then—to save the penalty and be a hero, or to let in an easy goal and end up the villain. Unfortunately for Jimeen, Samson Fogarty was nominated to be the penalty taker. Now Samson had a kick like the combined total of ten mules. Most of the time his shots flew wide, scorching the grass, or whizzed over the crossbar threatening to go into orbit. But if Samson hit the ball straight then it had the velocity to imperil the safety of even the most experienced of net minders. In this instance he did hit it straight and with a shuddering, sickening impact, Jimeen stopped it with his testicles. He let out a roar that could be heard in the next parish. He was whipped off to hospital in the direst agony.

  The unfortunate accident had far reaching consequences. It meant that Jimeen could never again father any offspring. The friction with Minnie started straight away. They went to various doctors in various places but always got the same response—Jimeen’s powers of reproduction were damaged irrevocably. He wasn’t up to it any more.