Country Boys

by J. P. Diamond

  By the time they arrived at the dancehall, it was still too early to go in. “Fancy a burger?” asked Mickey. “Aye – but not too many onions,” replied Mary. “I might be a minute or two – there’s a queue at the chipvan.” “Don’t worry – I won’t be runnin’ off anywhere,” laughed Mary. As Mickey went off to buy two burgers, Mary surveyed her surroundings from the top corner of the large carpark. As she watched the showband’s large van pull in and park next the back door of the hall, she was thinking about the conversation Mickey and herself had together, particularly when he asked her if she had a girlfriend. Was he interested in her romantically or was he just making polite conversation? Though she found him very attractive, perhaps it would be a good idea to remember her sister Siobhan’s advice about playing it cool. After all – she didn’t know him terribly well and she didn’t want to appear over-eager to be his romantic conquest. Fifteen minutes later Mickey arrived with two steaming hot burgers. “I hope these are worth the wait,” he said. “I think I’ll let mine cool down a bit first,” replied Mary. “The band only arrived when you were away queueing.” “They won’t be on stage for another hour then,” replied Mickey. “I s’pose these boys would have a bit more equipment than your wee band.” “Aye – they’d have big Marshall stacks and they’re a five-piece with a keyboard player – we wouldn’t have half as much stuff as them.” “Your band is just bass, guitar and drums isn’t it. Who does the singin’?” The bass player mostly - I do vocal harmonies with him on some tunes. But I’m not the worlds best singer.” Mary laughed. “You’ve got me curiosity workin’ overtime now. Siobhan and meself are gonna have to come and see ye’s play sometime.” “Maybe – mind ye the stuff we play is American country music of the 1950’s with a bit of Irish folk music stuff. We’re not exactly cuttin’ edge prog. rock y’know.” “I don’t mind that. Besides – there’s something homely and appealin’ about an old-fashioned man. Ye’s don’t wear woolly jumpers like Val Doonican do ye’s?” joked Mary. “Finish eatin’ that burger before it goes cold. Our bass player ‘ll be here tonight. I’m gonna tell him you’ve been makin’ fun of our wee band,” replied Mickey. He was enjoying the banter. “Oh – I hope he’s not a sensitive sort. Some people can’t take a slaggin’ too well.” “Sensitive isn’t the first word that comes t’mind when I think about him.” “Well – what is the first word that comes to mind?”“It’s hard to put into words. But if ye meet him tonight – ye’ll know what I mean,” replied Mickey. “I see there’s a queue formin’ at the door. S’pose we may as well join it.” “I’m glad I’ve me jeans on tonight – it’s too cold for a skirt,” remarked Mary, as she finished off her burger and got out of the car.

  Mickey locked the car doors and the pair made their way down the hill to join the back of the queue. “By the way – I’ve money t’pay meself in,” whispered Mary. “No way – you’re my guest. I’m payin’ us both in. Ye can buy me a lemonade though. That burger’s left me thirsty.” It was quite dark inside the large hall and there were still relatively few people inside. Mary went off to get Mickeys lemonade and a coke for herself. She looked around, hoping to see someone who looked around the same age as herself. She didn’t know anybody. Having purchased two bottles, she made her way over to the far side of the hall where Mickey was seated. “Your lemonade sir,” she proffered. “Thank you m’dear,” he replied. They sat and chatted while the band set up the final pieces of equipment before proceeding to run a soundcheck. The loudness of the amplification took Mary by surprise. “God – what’s it goin’ t’be like when the whole band get goin’.” “Your ears’ll be used to it and the hall’l be full of people by then. “No sign of your bass player yet.” “Not yet – him and the drummer’ll probably come together along with the drummers young brother.”

  Forty minutes later the band, without any prior introductions, launched straight into the opening chords of the Black Sabbath song Paranoid. As they did so, the doors of the hall swung open like a scene from a wild-west saloon and three young men raced up the hall to about ten yards from the stage One of them was a short, squat fellow with a baldish head who was wearing a white shirt. The other was a lean, lithe youth with long dark hair dressed in faded denims. The third was a muscular, athletic fellow dressed in darker denims with long, fair hair. They were all obviously in the prime of youth with energy to burn. The two long-haired fellows stood about six feet apart and began shaking their heads with their long, flowing locks to and fro to the two-chord rhythm of the heavy metal classic, while playing imaginary “air” guitar. The short, squat fellow was doing a hopalong type dance between his two companions, while also playing an imaginary guitar. “DU H,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DU H,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH, – DUH,DUH,D UH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH,DUH, BAM BAM BAMP” The thunderous, repetitive guitar riff backed with the bass and drums filled the hall as more people started to spill in the doors. Attempting to have a conversation in these circumstances was pointless, thought Mary. She momentarily forgot about Mickey as she looked on; fascinated with the size of the hall, the loudness of the music and the enthusiastic gyrations of the three male “dancers”. It was as though she were being transported back in time to some sort of stone-age ritual. She noticed that Mickey was holding his hand over his face, obviously very amused by the three “headbangers”. He seemed to be trying not to laugh too hard. The lead singer was screaming out the lyrics with all the gusto at his disposal, grabbing the microphone-stand as if his life depended on it. Then – halfway through the song came the vocal break for the guitar solo. The three left their original position to continue their activity at the feet of the lead guitarist who stood near the front of the stage. Mary couldn’t help laughing - she was laughing at Mickey laughing as well as at the antics of the “headbangers”. She wondered how their ears and neck muscles would feel the next day, having been subjected to such high volume and rigorous exertions. When the song was over, Mary turned to Mickey and remarked, “This is good fun – Will we join these three out on the floor?” “I think ye’d be crampin, their style. I take it ye don’t know who they are?” “No – I’ve never seen them.” “The one with very little hair – he’s the bass player I told ye about. The well-built fella’s our drummer and the other fella’s his brother. He does roadie for us sometimes.” “Oh God – if they see ye – they’ll want ye up there with them!” “Aye – but if you sit on me knee for a while till the crowd comes in – they’ll not notice I’m here.” Mary didn’t need to be asked twice and perched herself up on Mickey’s knee. “Ye can’t leave a young thing like me alone in a big hall like this Mickey Donaghy!” laughed Mary as she put her right arm around his neck. Mickey laughed. He enjoyed Mary’s natural, unaffected outgoing personality. He studied her flawless skin and fine facial bone structure. He felt the warmth of her body and noted her fragrant smell. One or two beautiful girls he had known had high opinions of themselves and a pretentious manner but Mary was not at all like that. Moreover, he had a lot of respect for her father who had gone out of his way to make him feel one of the team when he had started working for the Electricity Board. He looked at her long, slim legs and couldn’t help wondering what she would look like in a short skirt. He had to admit to himself that he was growing fonder of her by the minute. He put his arms around her slim waist as the first song drew to an abrupt close. The three “headbangers” held their clenched fists in the air, giving the band their verdict of approval.

  Mary, taking advantage of the momentary drop in the decibel level, asked Mickey if he did any headbanging in his spare time. “A bit – but I prefer to watch.” The lead singer introduced the next song. “This is a song by Led Zeppelin from 1969 – it’s called Whole Lotta Love.” “Shane’ll go mad for this one – it’s his favourite song of all time,” said Mickey enthusiastically. “Which one’s Shane?” inquired Mary. “That’s the drummer – the big fella,” shouted Mickey back in her ear. “BA-BA-BABAM BAMP”. Shane raised his two fists in the air as though he had scored the winning goal in a cu
p-final. By now more “headbangers” had joined them at the front, swinging their long locks to the beat of the mesmerising Jimmy Page guitar riff. “That’s the music at the start of Top of the Pops,” shouted Mary. “Aye – it’s the same tune”, replied Mickey.“Will we go for a walk – see if we know anybody?” said Mary as she nodded her head. “Down this way – not up near the front,” replied Mickey, pointing with his finger. Mickey took her hand and the pair walked together around the hall. Mary bumped into one of her classmates, Maire O’Loan. They were friends and delighted to see each other, but the loud music made any sort of prolonged conversation difficult. Mary introduced her friend to Mickey, aware that no doubt she would have a couple of questions from her classmate on Monday at break-time. After a minute they were continuing on their way, hand in hand as before. Mary asked Mickey if the band played any music in the pop charts. “I think they play Thin Lizzy’s Whiskey in the Jar.” “If they play it – can we go out and dance?” “If ye want – I s’pose that’s why we came.” About ten minutes later the band broke into Whiskey in the Jar. Mary tugged Mickey and they made their way out onto the dancefloor. The two shook their bodies whilst clapping hands and singing the lyrics. When the chorus line came they locked arms and spun each other around. Mary was having the time of her life and Mickey, though a bit more reserved, was enjoying himself also. They stayed up for the next couple of songs until the band called a short break.

  As they were walking over to the side, Mickey’s three friends were making their way down to the bottom of the hall. Jim McKenna the bass player spotted Mickey first and pointed him out to Shane and Colm Nolan. “Hi boys – look who’s here!” recognising Mickeys rear profile. “The bastard never told us he had a girlfriend,” replied Shane. “She looks allright from the back - come on and we’ll say hello ’n see what this woman looks like from the front,” said Colm. “Hi - he’s gone to the toilet. Come on an’ we’ll wind this wee girl up a bit – tell her a few fibs before he comes back out again.” The Nolan brothers laughed and followed behind Jim as he went up to Mary and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hello love. You don’t know me – but there’s somethin’ ye should know about yer new boyfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend -what is there to know anyway?” replied Mary, pretending she didn’t know who McKenna was. “Well – sometimes he asks girls out just to be seen with them. But he’s really gay – he dosen’t fancy women at all!” “Are you sure ye aren’t gay yerself? Ye remind me a bit of that fella on TV – Larry Grayson,” responded Mary sarcastically The two brothers really cracked up at this as McKenna did bear a faint resemblance to Larry Grayson. Just then Mickey emerged from the toilet. “Hello boys – I see ye’ve already met Mary. What have ye been tellin’ her about me.” “Jim’s been singin’ yer praises Mickey,” laughed Shane as he put his arm on Mickeys shoulder. “I’m sure he has – good band the night eh!” replied Mickey. “F------g brilliant - hi mate are you and the new woman comin’ out for a freak-out in the second-half,” inquired Jim. “Well – this girls daddy wants her home early. We might leave before the end for it’s a good hour’s drive.” “Aw Jesus mate – ye’re getting’ old before yer time”, replied McKenna. “Shane – where’s that half-bottle. We’ll go inta the bog for a swig before the band comes out. Colm - you’re drivin’ mate. You can’t have any.” “Don’t remind me Jim,” replied the younger Nolan. As the two went off to the toilet to imbibe some hard liquor, Jim reminded Mary. “Don’t forget what I told ye love.” Mary laughed. Mickey asked Colm what the two were drinking. “They had a few beer on the way up. Some oul’ boy – a neighbour of Jim’s, gave him a half-bottle of poteen. He sneaked it in with him.” “He’ll be in bother if the bouncers catch him,” remarked Mickey. “Jim would tell them its water and he’d make such a good show of it they’d probably believe him,” laughed Colm. Mickey and Mary laughed. Just then the band returned to the stage. “Hi – Mickey. I’ll see ye around. Nice meetin’ ye Mary.” “You too Colm,” replied Mary. When Colm had gone out of earshot, Mary remarked, “they’re a lively bunch them friends of yours.” “Aye they are - ye wouldn’t describe Jim as shy and sensitive would ye?”“ Naw. I like Colm - he’s a nice fella.” “Aye Colm’s the best – what was Jim sayin’ when I was in the toilet?” “Nothin’ much – he just wanted to know if I was your girlfriend,” laughed Mary with a twinkle in her eye. “Is that all? – Jim would spin ye a yarn very quick y’know.” “I was only talkin’ to him for a second,” Mary replied.

  Their conversation was interrupted by what seemed to be a disturbance at the far end of the hall. People were standing on the wooden seating and craning their necks in order to get a better view of what was happening. Mickey stood up on the seat to have a look. “What’s happenin’ over there Mickey?” inquired Mary. “There’s a fight broken out - the doormen are involved in it too.” “Are your friends in it?” “That’s what I’m lookin’ for but I don’t think they are.” As more people ran over to the far end of the hall to get a better view or become personally involved, Mickey said, “I think this might have somethin’ to do with a football match last weekend between Na Fianna and Pearses. A fella got his nose broken in the match and I saw a couple of his brothers here earlier. They’re two hard men.” “Oh Mickey – don’t you be gettin’ involved in it!” “I’ve no intention of it. Unless the bouncers get it under control quickly it’s goin’ t’get out of hand.” “Maybe we better leave early Mickey. God knows what’ll happen.” “Well – I better get you home safe. Yer da wouldn’t be happy if I let anythin’ happen to ye. Wait at the door and I’ll get me coat.” Two minutes later the pair walked out together into the brisk, clear, moonlit night. “It’s a beautiful night. I can smell the summer comin’,” muttered Mary as she grabbed Mickeys arm. “Y’know – years from now we’ll think back on these days as the best of our lives. We just don’t realise it now,” replied Mickey. “You’re quite the philosopher,” purred Mary in his ear as she huddled close to him. “I won’t be so philosophical if this car dosen’t start.” “Ah don’t worry. Ye could ring daddy up at that phone box over there and he’d come and collect us.” Mickey got into the front seat and turned the key in the ignition. The engine responded favourably. “Looks like we won’t need yer daddy after all,” said Mickey as he drove slowly to the carpark exit.

  During the return journey Mary talked to Mickey about his three friends. Mickey was telling her about how Jim was an enthusiastic practical joker who took delight in playing all sorts of tricks on people. “There was one night Shane got himself a lovely blonde at a pub we were playin’. She was a university student or somethin’. When Shane went off to the toilet, Jim told her that Shane had a wife and kid. When Shane came out again the woman had disappeared. Big ladies-man Shane couldn’t figure out why this woman had left without even a goodbye.” “Is Shane a bit of a ladies man?” inquired Mary. “That’s about the only night I ever saw Shane have a problem with a woman.” “What about you – are you a ladies man?” “Not really – I s’pose I’m quieter than Shane. Most of the women ye meet in the places we play are older anyway. They’re usually married or with boyfriends.” “And Shane snaps up any loose ones.” “That’s about it,” retorted Mickey. “You’re not gay are ye?” inquired Mary. “What! Do I look gay?” responded Mickey, somewhat taken aback by the question. “Jim told me ye were gay earlier when ye went off to the toilet.” “Bastard – I’m goin’ to have t’get him back for that,” answered Mickey. Mary didn’t believe that Mickey was gay, but decided it would be fun to pretend that she believed Jim’s remark. “Y’know Mickey – there’s nothin’ t’be ashamed of about bein’ gay. There’s more gay men out there than you think an’ they’re not all effeminate in the way they act and look.” “But I’m not gay Mary! Jim’s only windin’ ye up and because ye’re young ye believe him! What exactly did the wee bastard say to ye?” This was the first time Mary had seen Mickey riled and she was laughing to herself. “He says ye only go out with women t’be seen with them.” “God – I
’ll get even with the wee runt if it’s the last thing I do!” “Mickey – it dosen’t bother me personally if ye’re gay or not. I’m a girl who can keep a secret. Ye’ll feel a lot better if ye tell someone ye know.” Mickey was becoming angry. He spotted a picnic-area sign fifty yards in the distance and indicated to turn in. “Where are ye goin’?” asked Mary. “We left good’n early didn’t we,” responded Mickey emphatically. “Aye – so.” Mickey pulled the car into the picnic-area and turned off the engine. He adjusted the lever on the front passengers-seat pushing the backrest back to a horizontal position. He grabbed Mary by her shoulders and pushed her down on the seat. Then he lay on top of her. “Mickey Donaghy – what are ye doin’!” “I told ye twice I wasn’t gay but ye’re still not convinced. I think I’m goin’ t’have no option but t’prove it to ye.” Before she could reply he kissed her hard on the lips. For a second she made a futile effort to resist. He already had his arms around her. She opened her mouth and wrapped her arms around his lean, athletic frame. He slid his hand under her blouse and rubbed it up and down her bare back. Their tongues met and they kissed each other passionately. After about three minutes Mickey broke off. “Now - d’ye still think I’m bloody gay!” Mary stroked his face with her hand and smiled. “I’m still not convinced. Ye might have t’do that again.” He smiled back at her. “I suppose I just might,” he replied.

  CHAPTER 17

  Saturday 9th June 1973.

  Sean, Patsy, Peter and Gerry were on their way to a bog deep in the heart of the Sperrin Mountains. They were going to spend the day cutting and spreading turf. The two grown men did most of the cutting. One would cut for an hour whilst the other would throw the turf slabs out onto the bank for the two boys to build on the turf barrow. Gerry and Peter were joint owners of the bog, and the turf-cutting every year was usually done on the first good weekend day in June. Sean and Patsy had been brought along by their fathers since they were nine or ten years of age. Whilst the work was repetitive, it wasn’t nearly as physically strenuous as potato gathering. Gerry and Peter also let their two sons do some cutting as they wanted the pair of them to acquire the skills which would prove useful in the years to come. A lot of the rural Irish Catholic families managed to get by on a tight budget and one of the principal means of doing this was by stocking up with plenty of turf to reduce the winter heating bill. In fact both of the Daly families had to buy very little coal. Gerry had a small trailer attached to the towbar of his Hillman Hunter. He pulled the car up at the entrance gate to the bog. A couple of other cars were there also. Gerry took the turf-barrow out of the trailer and gave Patsy the turf spade. Sean took the lunch and Thermos flask and Peter took the other spades, which were used for paring the bank. It was about a mile walk to where the Daly’s bog was located.