by Kealan Ryan
Tim and Brian arrive. Hopefully the two lads will calm things down.
Nope.
They only add to it. Well, Tim does, anyway – he’s giving out stink. Brian says little – he’s too busy contemplating what he will do and whether or not he should call John tonight, let him in on what he’s thinking.
Get it right in my own head first, he thinks. Do I really want to go through with anything? If so what? Do I want to kill him? Simple – yes. Could I do it? Be honest now – yes. Do you really believe that or are you just telling yourself that to feel better about yourself? Think long and hard now, don’t fuck about. I don’t know – I think so. If you think so, talk to Tim. Will I ring John? No question, ring him and ask him to call over. What am I telling them? I don’t know yet. When this man gets out of prison am I going to be able to confront him and kill him?
Jesus, what am I thinking?
I’ll certainly be able to beat him, attack him with a hurl – beat the shit out of the fucker, but is that enough? Will that satisfy me? It’s certainly not getting even, just a beating – but at least it’s something. Do you really think you have it in you to kill; are you that kind of person? Maybe, when I think of him and what he’s done to our family – Pam, Robbie. He got off too lightly. Cripple him? How? Beat him with a stick till he’s almost dead; if he lives he lives, if not, then not. Get it right in your head, think long and hard …
He looks at our dad – who’d certainly never approve of how Brian is thinking. I have mixed feelings myself, to be honest. I would like him to kill Danny, I think, but only if there was no way in hell that he’d get caught. But also I’d feel sorry for Danny’s dad – he’d be the one hurt the most and I like him; he’s a decent man. Thinking about it, I’m leaning towards not wanting him to do it. Hopefully I’ll figure out a way to get my own revenge on Danny, although to be honest I’m kind of getting bored with that idea too – if ghosts were actually able to properly haunt fuckers who’d wronged them, then half the world would be scared shitless and you’d hear way more ghost stories.
The doorbell rings and this time it’s John and Pam with John’s dad, Jarlath. My dad’s happy to see him – it’s not that they are best buddies or anything, but they have been friends through the years and it’s nice of him to come.
‘Hey Jarlath, how are you doing?’ Dad says as Jarlath enters the kitchen.
‘I’m good, Frank,’ Jarlath says, shaking Dad’s hand. ‘How are you guys holding up?’
‘Well you heard the news, obviously,’ my dad says.
‘I did,’ says Jarlath, as he leans, arms crossed, against the kitchen counter.
‘We’re fierce angry, Jarlath; it’s just so unfair,’ Mam says.
‘I know, Kate; I truly wish there was something I could do.’
‘I know you do. Thanks for stopping by, though.’
Jarlath chances a grin. ‘Well, it was either this or the wife would have me working on God knows what.’
‘Jesus, you’d happily walk into the most depressing house in Dublin in order to get out of a little housework, would you?’ Tim says. ‘You’re one lazy bastard, Jarlath.’
They all laugh.
‘Well, when you get to my age, Timmy, any excuse will do,’ he says, throwing his eyes upwards.
Tim chuckles. ‘Right.’
‘Besides, I’ve only popped in for thirty seconds and then I’m up the road to the driving range – the wife won’t suspect a thing.’
‘Very shrewd, I like it,’ Tim says.
My mam is smiling. ‘Well, hang on a minute – you think I want to be a part of your lying and conniving?’
Jarlath shrugs. ‘We’re all friends here; I figured you could throw a blind eye?’
‘As soon as you’re out the door I’ll be on to Phil spilling the beans.’
‘Ah, I may as well stay so. Sure my swing is near perfect anyway, right, Frank?’
‘Practice could only make it worse, Jarlath,’ Dad answers mockingly.
Everyone is smiling now. The mood has changed since Jarlath arrived – he has a way of putting everyone at ease.
Mam looks down at her hands, entwined on the table. ‘When you were a guard, Jarlath, how did other people that you’ve seen deal with this kind of thing?’
At that question, Jarlath steps forward and puts a hand on Mam’s shoulder. ‘I’ll tell you now – you will never, ever get over this. But I promise you it will get easier. Time. It’s all time, Kate.’
‘I just can’t see it,’ Mam says, holding his gaze.
Jarlath squeezes her shoulder. ‘I know. It’s going to be gradual, so gradual that you won’t notice it, but the pain will ease.’
My mam nods and looks down. Jarlath looks at both my parents, then at my brothers and Pam. ‘Right now you think you will never be truly happy.’ My mam looks up at him as he continues. ‘I’m telling you that you will be; not in the same way, of course, but you will be. It’s just going to take you time – a lot of time, but together you’ll get there.’ Mam tries to smile and he smiles back. ‘You’ll get there, honey.’
He turns around and sees Pam hanging on his words – they all are. She smiles at him and he gives her a little wink that makes her feel better than any words could.
30
When the phone rings, John half-thinks about not answering it. He’s still not over the jet lag and has just been through a shitty day at the courthouse. All he wants is to relax and watch an old episode of Seinfeld. The only reason he picks it up is because the ringing is annoying him and he wants to get rid of whoever it is.
‘Hello?’ he barks.
‘Alright John, it’s Brian.’
‘Oh, hi Brian – how’s it going?’ Brian rarely rings him but he doesn’t find it at all strange with the day that’s in it.
‘Grand. I was hoping we could get together and have a chat – me, you and Tim.’
‘Yeah of course – when?’
‘Now, actually. Is that okay or are you doing anything?’
This is where me and John differ. If I was feeling wrecked and all I wanted to do was crash out and watch Seinfeld I’d come up with an excuse as to why we’d have to wait until tomorrow to hook up. Even if I didn’t, I’d at the very least be pissed off that I had to go out and I’d hesitate slightly. But John doesn’t. He can hear it in Brian’s voice that he needs to see him. Brian is like a younger brother to him too, so John doesn’t waste a second.
‘Of course – now is fine. Where?’
‘Is Niamh home tonight?’
‘Yeah, she should be in in about a half hour,’ John says, checking his watch.
‘Can we make it our place then?’
‘Okay. Right now?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m on my way.’
***
He gets to Brian and Tim’s apartment just before half eight. Their place is pretty cool. It’s in-between two blocks of offices and stepped back from the street so, despite being close to town, they have no neighbours. There is a handy little lane leading up to the gaff and the pair of them are there when John arrives, both of them looking at Tim’s new moped. It’s a heap of shit, but Tim is delighted with it.
‘Alright John, how’s it going?’ Tim calls. ‘My new moped – what do you think?’
John hesitates. ‘It’s lovely – I think my granddad had the same one when he was a young fella.’
‘Did he?’ For a second Tim doesn’t realise that John is taking the piss out of him. Catching on, he says, ‘Oh fuck – prick.’ Then smiles. ‘It’s cool, though, isn’t it? Kind of retro.’
‘Flares are retro, man; this is an antique.’
Tim’s face looks slightly hurt so John backpedals. ‘Ah no – I’m only messing; it’s quite cool alright.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Yeah – I could see you spin
ning around Dublin with some lash clinging on to you from behind. Real French-movie style.’
Tim has a grin from ear to ear. ‘Deadly – I can’t wait.’
‘Where are you going to get some French lash to go for a spin with?’ Brian asks sarcastically.
‘Don’t worry yourself about it. They’ll come to me,’ Tim says, looking down proudly at his gammy bike. ‘It may not look like much, but I can almost smell the pussy I’m going to get from it.’
‘No, I think that’s just the smell of your rank-ass bike,’ Brian says.
The apartment is open plan, so the kitchen is linked with the living room. John and Tim sit down on the couch while Brian puts on the kettle. ‘Sugar or anything, John?’
‘Lots of milk – till it’s almost cold.’ Brian thinks this is weird but says nothing – he figures he’ll overdo it for the craic, put in half milk and half tea. Only thing is that’s just the way John likes it, so Brian is slightly disappointed when John takes a sip and says, ‘Perfect.’
‘Jesus, you really do like it cold, don’t you?’
‘Yeah – it means you can take bigger sips.’
‘Why not just have a glass of milk then?’
‘I don’t really like milk by itself.’
Brian’s a bit puzzled, but he lets it alone – there are more important things to talk about than John’s odd taste in drinks. He finishes pouring himself a cup and sits down opposite the two lads.
‘Listen, thanks for coming out tonight.’
‘No problem – mad day what?’ John says.
‘Sure was.’
‘You guys okay?’ John asks, taking another sip of the milky tea.
‘You know.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You okay?’ Tim asks.
‘Ah, the same.’
The three of them are silent for a second, then John pipes up. ‘What did you want to see me about?’
‘Well, I don’t really know how to say this …’ Brian hesitates. Tim glances at Brian, not knowing what to expect – Brian hasn’t told him the reason for this meeting either – but he can see how much our brother is struggling to find the right words.
‘Jesus – what?’ Tim snaps.
‘That prick didn’t get enough,’ Brian blurts out. ‘He didn’t get punished enough – you know what I mean?’
John nods. ‘Yeah, I’m so sorry, lads.’
‘Don’t be sorry, John – it hurts you every bit as much as us,’ says Tim.
John shrugs. ‘I guess.’
‘Listen.’ Brian’s still trying to get to what he wants to say. ‘I can’t have this fucker running free after only a year or so.’
‘What do you mean?’ Tim asks.
‘I mean, I don’t think I could live with myself if he was out enjoying life while we’re left without a brother and Robbie without a dad.’
John puts his cold drink down on the coffee table. ‘What are you saying, Brian?’
Brian looks down at his hands, is surprised to see that they are balled into fists. ‘I’m not sure yet – but you are the only two I can talk to about this. The way I’m feeling now, I don’t know. I’m not asking you to do anything with me, but if something happens when he gets out, will you stick up for me?’
‘Stick up for you?’ Tim queries.
‘Yeah – you know what I mean, say we were together or something?’
Tim and John look at each other with matching expressions of not knowing what the fuck to say. John leans forward towards Brian. ‘Listen to me, Brian. I’m so, so sorry for what you are going through, believe me I know how you feel – Chris was the only brother I ever had.’
Brian’s nose starts running and he puts his fingers to his eyes to try and stop the tears. ‘I know he was, John.’
‘It’s all still so fresh, and you’re right – that prick didn’t get enough time, it’s a fucking outrage. But there is nothing we can do about it.’
Brian just looks at him and John knows what the look means. ‘Brian – you can’t.’
I’m surprised Tim is so silent through all this; he’s usually way more vocal. He’s basically trying to figure out what to think. He can see the hurt and anger in Brian but doesn’t know if our brother really means what he is hinting at. Is he just trying to get something out, in the same way that Tim had been right after my death? Tim has in some ways gotten over the idea and he’d assumed that Brian had too, since he had been the one who shot down any talk like that the first time it came up.
Brian isn’t just saying it, though. I can see deep down inside of him; there is no doubt in my mind – if somehow he could come face to face with Danny Murray, Brian would try to kill him.
‘You don’t really mean what you’re saying, do you?’ John asks.
Brian’s not meeting John’s gaze. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that I have never felt like this before – and if this feeling isn’t gone in eighteen months then I don’t know what I’ll do.’
‘It will pass, and any time you feel like this I want you to ring me.’
‘I feel like this all the time,’ Brian admits, wiping his nose.
‘Then ring me all the time. Or talk to Tim, we are all here for each other. To get each other through this. But you cannot do anything stupid when Murray gets out; you have to let it go.’
Brian shakes his head. ‘Dublin’s a small fucking town – what if I bump into him?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, but even if it does you can’t do anything. It would do none of your family any good if you wound up in jail.’
‘That’s why I asked you if you would stick up for me.’
John feels the strong need to drill some sense into Brian. He becomes more animated as he continues. ‘I’m not entertaining this, Brian – we are not in a movie and I’m not somebody’s alibi. This is real life and if you do something you will get caught – no matter how many people say they were with you. You are one of the first people the guards would look to if your man got killed.’
Tim finally joins in. ‘John’s right, Brian – I know how you feel, I kind of feel it too, but no good will come of it.’
Brian looks up at Tim and wipes the tears off his cheek. ‘Okay,’ he whispers.
Tim continues. ‘It’s not okay, this is mad talk and I think we all know that it’s not in you to murder someone. But if you ever want to talk about it again, like John said, ring him or talk to me and we’ll help each other, alright?’
Brian feels no better after talking about it – feels no different, but he decides to let it go.
‘Do you agree with us? Do you understand?’ John asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yeah – thanks lads, sorry about this.’
‘That’s alright man, any time you feel like this I want you to talk to us, okay?’
‘Okay,’ he nods.
He’s sorry he brought it up with them and knows he never will again. But he also knows that the feeling he’s spoken about will not go away. Tim’s relieved, taking Brian at his word; John too starts feeling better about the situation and good about himself that he’s been able to help.
John smiles at him, ‘You promise?’
Brian stares back at John blankly. ‘I promise.’
31
When you’re a kid you have lots of worries about growing up. I remember hearing horror stories about people’s first wet dreams – Wet Dreams Gone Wrong. I was about eleven when I first knew what a wet dream was, or kind of knew, anyway. It sounded great at first, but then you’d start to hear horror stories around the schoolyard that so and so’s cousin had a wet dream about their mam, or worse yet, their dad.
I was terrified because dreams are something you have no control over. I remember hearing that this guy a few years ahead of me, Gavin Hick
ey, had his first wet dream about Wizbit. You know, that spongy yellow triangle creature from The Paul Daniels Magic Show. I heard that the theme song was playing in the background as your man rolled around with Wizbit:
Wizbit grew about 3 feet high.
Ha ha this-a-way,
ha ha that-a-way,
ha ha this-a-way,
my oh my!
I could never quite look Gavin in the eye after hearing that, even years later when I figured it was probably bullshit. Every time I saw him I’d always have that theme tune playing in my head and think about what a pervert he was.
You soon learn that wet dreams aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, anyway, because you are beating off long before you have one.
I used to worry about not having as much fun as an adult too. When you’re a kid you’re always running around playing chasing, playing guns – adults always seemed to be having less craic because they’d just be sitting around a table or something. I asked my mam about it once and she told me in no uncertain terms that being an adult was way better than being a kid. I didn’t get it. ‘But what about all that “school days are the best days of your life” stuff?’ I asked.
‘That’s completely untrue – being an adult is so much more fun.’
I couldn’t see how that would be the case at the time, but I still totally took her word for it. From that moment on, I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I wasn’t great at being a kid – I hated school and always being told what to do – so the thought of having more fun as an adult sounded great.
She was right too, being an adult was great craic – I loved it.
Danny had the same kind of worries as me when he was young – not the Wizbit thing, of course, but other ones. Like being terrified that one of your parents might die – which of course came true for him. Or how when you’re a kid you’re afraid that when you grow up you might go to jail – which of course has also come true now. That’s all Danny can think about during his first night in Mountjoy – how did it get to this point that he is now a criminal? One of the bad guys. As long as I’ve known him he’s been a bad guy, yet he’s still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
