by Tom Lennon
“Hmm.” Neil nodded.
His dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Is everything okay, Neil?” he asked with uncustomary tenderness.
“Yeah,” Neil said stiffly, maintaining his calm exterior. Inside he felt a strong urge to reveal all, gush it out onto his dad’s shoulder. Be his little boy again.
“It’s just…” His dad lowered his embarrassed gaze. “Your mother and myself, we’ve noticed that you haven’t been in the best of form recently.”
Neil swallowed the lump in his throat. “I think it must be the exams and all that,” he stammered, a slight waver in his voice. Now he really wanted to clasp his arms around his dad and cry his heart out.
His dad stood up and ruffled Neil’s hair. “They’re done now, no point in worrying about them anymore.” Neil could sense the tone of victory and relief in his dad’s voice. He could go back up to bed now and report to his wife that he was right after all, that it was the exams. But she would know better.
“Oh, and some other friend of yours phoned as well.”
“Who?”
“Someone called Eddie.”
“Eddie?” Neil wrinkled his nose in puzzlement.
“Well he asked to speak to Jackie then, so you better ask her who it was.”
Then it dawned on Neil who it was. The one and only Daphne. No wonder his dad’s voice had a slight hint of bemusement.
“Is Jackie in bed?” Neil asked, steering the conversation away from Daphne.
“Ah, she’s been in bed for hours, she was exhausted,” his dad said, going toward the door. “She has a long journey ahead of her tomorrow.”
Neil felt a sharp dart of pain. The events of the day had pushed his sister’s imminent departure from his thoughts.
“Time you were hitting the hay yourself, isn’t it?” his dad added, glancing at his watch.
“Yeah, I was just about to go.”
“’Night then.”
“’Night, Dad.”
As soon as his dad left the room, Neil closed his eyes and threw his head back in anguish. Things were getting complicated.
Chapter Six
As they drove up to the airport terminal, the enormous dark outline of an airplane loomed overhead, making a deafening roar as it soared into the night sky. Neil leaned out of the car window to watch the red flashing taillights grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Alongside him in the backseat, Jackie was making her hundredth last minute check of her hand luggage.
“Passport, tickets, money…” she muttered.
“Hairbrush,” his dad joked.
“Ssssh!” Jackie hissed, and Neil’s dad caught his eye in the mirror and winked conspiratorially.
“Well, if you’ve forgotten anything, it’s too late to go back for it now.” Their mum was the voice of reason. Jackie gave another panicky squeal as their dad turned the car into the short-term parking lot.
Neil smiled when he spotted Liam, lurking behind a pillar, way off down at the other end of the lengthy departures concourse. He was smoking a cigarette, his scruffy rucksack leaning against a video games machine. As planned, Neil pretended he had to go to the bathroom so he could give Liam the ticket Jackie had had for safekeeping.
“Thanks, man,” Liam beamed, flicking his long hair back from his face and slipping the plane ticket into the top pocket of his faded denim jacket.
Neil grinned. “Your name is dirt in our house.”
“Do they know I’m here?” Liam winced, his eyes open wide.
“Of course they do, but they’re pretending they don’t,” Neil said and Liam smiled.
“How’re you feeling, man?” Liam asked.
“Okay,” Neil answered and saw Liam eyeing him thoughtfully. There was something soothing, almost Christlike about his hair, his beard, his smile, that left Neil feeling totally at ease. Maybe Liam was the one to talk to. But, of course, he was going away, like everyone else who meant anything to him. Deserting him for his crisis summer.
“Fancy a pint?” Liam asked, handing Neil a cigarette.
“We’d never have time,” Neil said, leaning forward to catch the flame of Liam’s lighter.
“Course we will,” Liam drawled, slinging his rucksack up onto his back and loping gazelle-style past the lines of people waiting to check in their luggage and into the bar.
Jackie came rushing in before the froth had settled on their pints. She shrieked with nervous laughter when she spotted the pair of them.
“Give us a swig of that,” she said, taking a long gulp out of Liam’s pint.
“Where’s the old pair?” Neil asked.
“Brendan, if I don’t get a cup of coffee soon, I’ll pass out,” Jackie said, doing an exaggerated imitation of their mum.
“You’ll have time for one,” Liam said, going up to the bar to get a pint for Jackie. Neil and Jackie were alone. Jackie slipped the silver chain that was hanging around her neck out from beneath her T-shirt.
“Look what she gave me,” she giggled, holding the miraculous medal out for Neil to inspect.
“Holy Josephine.”
Jackie leaned forward and cupped Neil’s hands in her own. “See ya in September then, Gladys.”
“Yeah.” Neil lowered his gaze.
“We’ll be going to college together,” she enthused, squeezing his hands in delight. “It’ll be brilliant.”
But Neil was subdued.
Jackie moved closer so their faces were almost touching. She waited for the latest announcement over the PA system to finish before she spoke.
“What’s wrong, Gladys?” she asked, lifting his chin tenderly.
Neil’s eyes were moist when he met her gaze. “Gonna miss ya, Penelope,” he said in his American drawl.
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Look after yourself, Neil,” she whispered.
The tears were streaming down their cheeks when Liam returned to the table. He sat down awkwardly beside them. Neil wiped his face with a tissue before he made his way to the rest room.
He smiled to himself after he locked the cubicle door. Every time he came to the airport, he seemed to cry. Like at Christmas when his brothers Paul and Joe came home from New York. Neil and his dad went to collect them. The place was crazy. Christmas decorations and Welcome Home banners hung everywhere. Crowds and crowds of people were swarming around, waiting for the new arrivals. When a plane would land, the emigrants flooded through the arrivals gates, where they were practically assaulted by shrieking relatives and friends. Emotions were highly charged. But beneath the delirious joy lay the poignancy of the return to foreign lands. Neil had tried his utmost to hold back his tears, but when he spotted Paul and Joe sauntering through the nothing-to-declare customs gate, he found it impossible to contain himself. It was obvious that neither of his brothers, nor his father, were going to express their feelings openly. As always in the family, the real emotions were hidden behind jokes and banter. So Neil had pretended that he wanted to go to the bathroom.
Before she headed through the departures gate, Jackie slipped one of her love bangles onto Neil’s wrist. Neil noticed his mum smiling. But when he caught her eye, she looked away and pretended that she hadn’t noticed the little exchange. Jackie gave them all one last hug before she left to join her two imaginary female friends from college. Neil couldn’t bear to watch her going, so he strolled over to the window overlooking the runways. A huge, brightly lit 747 was taking off in the darkness outside. The roar of the engines shook the building as the plane lifted off up into the blackness. It reminded Neil of the time, years ago, when his dad brought Gary and him out to the airport for plane spotting. They were about nine or ten years old at the time. And Gary was so excited by the planes, that out of the blue, he had turned to Neil and blurted out that the two of them would always remain friends, no matter what. Neil remembered that he had simply grinned at the time, embarrassed by his pal’s openness. But Gary had tugged him by the sleeve and insisted that they pledge their everlasting friendship. A
nd they did. It was one of those touching moments that Neil would always remember, but he doubted that Gary would.
While they drove down Capel Street, Neil had difficulty concentrating on his parents’ conversation. His dad had missed the turning, so they were going to have to drive right past the gay pub. Neil’s imagination went into overdrive. There was going to be a traffic jam right outside the pub, and Daphne and a couple of his high-camp friends would be crossing the road at the very time they arrived. Daphne would knock on the car window and ask him, in his inimitable way, to join him for a drink. “Sister, won’t you come in for a little bev, and let me tell you all about the hunk I met last night.” And knowing Daphne, he would probably invite his mum and dad in as well.
“You’ll be glad to hear Charlie says you needn’t wear a suit,” his dad said, wakening Neil from his daydream.
“Huh?” Neil was lost.
“For the job,” his dad added.
“Oh, great.” Neil tried to sound enthusiastic but, inside, he was sighing with relief. There was no traffic congestion outside the pub. Then, his heart missed a beat. There was the unmistakable figure of Uncle Sugar hopping out of his car. Neil lay down flat on the backseat.
“You’ll have to get a decent pair of shoes and…” His mum turned around, “What’s wrong with you, love?”
“Just feeling a bit tired,” he said, grinning up at her.
She wrinkled her brow. “You’ll have to start going to bed earlier.”
“He’ll be going to bed early all right when he starts going to work,” his dad added with a chuckle.
Later that night, Neil had just climbed into bed when he heard the soft purr of a car engine outside. He dashed over to the window and peeped out in time to glimpse Uncle Sugar’s BMW crawling slowly away off down the road.
“I think they’re fine, Neil.”
Neil said nothing.
“Don’t you like them?”
Neil shook his head.
Again, his mum turned apologetically to the shoe shop assistant with the slicked-back hair. The willing young assistant came forth with yet another pair of shoes from the storeroom, stooped down on his haunches, and held Neil’s ankle gently as he slipped them on. Is he gay or what? Neil wondered, struggling to control his mounting hard-on. Heaven for a foot fetishist. Such a friendly young man, his mum had said during one of his many wiggly bummed sorties into the storeroom. The enjoyment of watching his athletic physique compensated slightly for the embarrassment of going shopping with his mum. “I don’t want you buying a pair of Doc Martens,” she had said, “not if I’m paying for them.” And she had insisted on being there to oversee his selection. He had been tempted to throw a tantrum and announce that he’d buy his own shoes, but years of holding himself back had come to his wallet’s rescue. A steely calmness under pressure, his rugby trainer had called it. Little did he know. But it felt funny being in town with his mum again after a gap of so many years. He was glad he had come, though; it was worth it just to watch her try to hide her happy expression as she fussed over him.
Eventually, they came to a compromise. A sensible pair of black shoes, the type that Penelope probably wore when he was in his man mode. But they did have a little frayed-end flap hanging over the laces, and this stylish feature won Neil over to the otherwise dorkish clodhoppers. The assistant grinned delightedly, more from relief than anything else, Neil suspected. His shop was in a mess, just for one measly sale. We might meet again, Neil thought, giving him a seductive little wink as he left the ravaged shop.
With the shoe box tucked beneath his arm, Neil held on to his mum’s shoulder while they descended on the steep escalator into the bowels of St. Stephen’s Green Shopping Center. The huge glitzy clock ticked toward midday. Hoards of shoppers passed them on the upward-bound escalator.
“You’re so vain.” His mum slapped his hand playfully when she caught him admiring himself in the sidewall mirror.
“At least I’ve got something to look at,” he replied.
“Cheeky brat,” his mum smiled.
But then, Neil’s heart froze. Daphne was approaching on the up escalator. No sly glances in the mirror for Daphne. No; he stood facing the sidewall mirror, preening himself, oblivious to the looks of amusement he was attracting. He had an AIDS Action collection box tucked under his arm. There was no escape. The moment of meeting was almost upon them.
Oh Jesus, please don’t let him see me, pleaded Neil. Please, please, please, I’ll never have another bad thought in my life if you just let him float on past. His mum gave him a funny look, wondering why he was ducking down behind her.
“Sister! Sister!” Everyone in the shopping center must have heard the shriek. Neil didn’t budge. All around him, heads turned to look at the strange-looking individual rattling the collection box across the escalator wall.
“Sister! Sister! Help the cause!”
“Who’s that?” his mum asked.
“Some nut,” Neil muttered, turning his head slightly to give Daphne an icy glare. Daphne understood immediately. He clasped his hand to his mouth comically before proceeding on his journey as though nothing had happened. All the subtlety of a double-decker bus, Neil thought.
“He seemed to know you,” his mum looked puzzled.
“Never seen him before in my life,” Neil “Judas” Byrne replied.
“Very peculiar-looking fellow,” his mum added in typical understatement.
Before they left the shopping center, his mum tossed a pound coin in another AIDS Action collection box, bringing a loud “thank you” from the young man collecting, who was also eyeing up Neil.
The summer evening’s crowds of teenagers had gathered in clusters outside Stillorgan Bowling Alley, around McDonald’s, on the shopping center wall, and outside the cinema. Openly drinking cans of beer, the gangs engaged in a seemingly endless banter, a banter that Neil had never felt part of. He watched them from the pay phone booth while he waited for his unknown caller to phone. But his thoughts were elsewhere. Was he being watched? Did the vice squad place the ad in the personals column? A carefully laid trap. The phone booth was under surveillance. It would all happen in an instant. The screech of tires. Burly undercover detectives swarming everywhere. Dragged from the phone booth. Bundled unceremoniously into the back of an unmarked car. “A pervert,” one of the detectives would say by way of explanation to the swelling crowd of nosy onlookers. “That’s Neil Byrne, isn’t it?” he’d hear someone shriek. And he’d see all the leering faces pressed against the car window as they drove away.
Neil’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted Ian cycling up to the crowd on the shopping center wall. His beloved had to scrape his runners along the ground to stop his brakeless bike. Then a girl ran over to him and hugged him before he even had time to dismount, making Neil’s heart sink. One of the gang handed Ian a can of beer, and the golden boy took a furtive look around him before he put the can to his lips. Oh, to be that can. Neil sighed, parting his lips slightly. Another two fellows from Ian’s class arrived and Neil was delighted to see the girl give them each a hug as well.
Bleep-bleep, bleep-bleep. The phone started to ring. The receiver nearly slipped from Neil’s grasp, his palms were so sweaty.
“Hello?” He felt dizzy as he spoke.
“Is that Ian?”
“Yeah.”
Then there was a pause. Neil smiled to himself, the ludicrousness of the situation occurred to him. Here he was, holding the receiver in his left hand, hoping to forge romantic links with a complete stranger, while across the street, the passion of his life was pretending he was drunk, unaware of being watched from the nearby phone booth.
“I got your letter,” the cautious voice muttered.
“Well, obviously,” Neil said.
But the caller wasn’t amused. “D’you want to meet?” he asked in a flat voice. This guy is quick, Neil thought, smiling as he watched his beloved grab a baseball cap off one of his pals and toss it frisbee-style into the shopping
center parking lot.
After further careful non-revelations, they finally arranged to meet on the steps of Trinity College chapel in an hour’s time. Details of each other’s appearance were exchanged and the show was on the road. The meeting point was Neil’s suggestion, but the irony was lost on his compatriot in shady romance, whose sole concern seemed to be to discover whether Neil was part of a gang intent on beating him up. Neil stepped out of the phone booth and waited for the burly detectives to grab him. “Excuse me, sir, could you accompany us down to the station please.”
“Of course I can. Men in uniform!” he’d shriek in his best Daphne imitation. “My fantasy come true!” He allowed himself a small, self-mocking smile when he reached the bus stop unhindered.
Neil strolled over to the chapel steps and sat down, donning his red baseball cap and resting the newspaper on his knees, as agreed. The cobblestoned grounds of Trinity were swarming with camera-clicking tourists and Neil bowed his head anytime he noticed a camera lens pointed in his direction. He could picture himself on the cover of some tabloid, with the headline reading: Trinity’s Gay Meat Rack Exposed! Steps of Chapel to Be Blessed by Archbishop! An appearance on The Late Late Show would follow during which he would be heralded as Ireland’s first gay teenager.
A light breeze ruffled the colorful roses lining the pathways. Students engrossed in conversation wheeled their bicycles past him. Their relaxed and happy faces, as well as the beauty of the surroundings, made Neil wish that he had applied to Trinity instead of UCD. The big clock over the archway ticked past eight o’clock. Gay guy, twenty-two, good-looking, own pad, was late. Neil was surprised at how relaxed he felt now. A Japanese woman smiled at him when she and her husband passed to get a closer look at the chapel. Neil smiled to himself, remembering what his mum had said to him at breakfast that morning. “You were talking in your sleep last night, Neil.”
Of course, at first, he had nearly suffered heart failure, wondering what dark secrets he had unwittingly divulged. But his mind was set at ease when his mum went on to remark that it sounded like he was speaking Japanese. In his relief, Neil had pulled his eyes into slits and spoken in a Japanese accent. His mum had laughed. “You better not behave like that when you start your job.”
