The Scrapper
Page 16
Sparrow motioned to Teddy to come forward and smiled at the man.
‘Yeh, I am, and the bad news is, Teddy, I get fuckin’ better.’
The two men closed on each other again. Sparrow got a jab off to the jaw, but his reach was not long enough. Teddy caught him with a punch to the ribs. It hurt. Teddy lunged again, this time using his sheer weight to get in a couple of jabs at Sparrow. One of them hit Sparrow across the bridge of the nose and blood began to pump from his nostrils.
Realising he couldn’t out-reach Teddy, Sparrow sprang back from Teddy’s lunging body. Teddy turned to face him again, more confident now. He began to move forward. Sparrow came in quickly, with a jab to the face and two body punches before Teddy could even gather himself.
Not many people realise it, but most fist fights or street fights last only thirty seconds. The amount of energy that’s required to fight a street fight is usually used up within that time. Teddy was a street fighter. Sparrow was not. As Teddy began to wilt, Sparrow moved in to finish him off. A left to the ribs winded Teddy, and a right-cross opened a cut beneath his left eye. Teddy reeled back against the bandstand rails.
Now furious again, Teddy lunged. Sparrow sidestepped him and Teddy went straight past again. Teddy was reeling across the bandstand, Sparrow following him staying perfectly balanced. Teddy turned to make another lunge, but took a three-punch combination from Sparrow. He was dazed, disorientated and hurting.
Sparrow went in low now and came straight up Teddy’s body with an uppercut. He heard the crunch of Teddy’s jaw breaking, and one of Teddy’s teeth flew out of his mouth. Dazed, Teddy reeled back against the rails. Sparrow went after him, but Teddy was now beginning to slide to the ground. Sparrow hauled Teddy up with his left hand and drew back his right. He heard the crowd begin to shout: ‘Men-en-dez, Men-en-dez.’ He heard Tommy Molloy, his coach, slapping the canvas and screaming, ‘Throw the punch, throw the punch!’
Sparrow began to loosen his grip on Teddy. Over Teddy’s shoulder he could see Froggy and Kieran Clancy standing together. He looked into Clancy’s face. Kieran smiled and nodded once. Sparrow tightened his grip on Teddy’s shirt, pulled him up and drove home a fifteen-year-old punch. Sparrow’s fist made contact on the left-hand side of Teddy’s face, just between his nose and his mouth. Sparrow let go his grip on Teddy’s shirt. Teddy’s head spun, blood spurted out of his mouth and his body tumbled over the edge of the bandstand onto the snow-covered grass.
Kieran Clancy smiled. He slipped his gun back into its holster. He put Teddy’s gun into his pocket and slowly began to clap. Froggy imitated him. Sparrow, now crying, started to dance around the ring like a champ, with his hands raised in the air. Froggy joined him and danced with him in an identical pose.
Fifteen years had passed, but at last Sparrow had thrown that punch.
* * *
The McCabe home, 11.30pm
Mickey was sitting on the fireside chair in his pyjama bottoms and an Aston Villa tee shirt. Although the television was on and the revelry had begun in the run-up to midnight on RTE One, Mickey paid no attention. Instead, he stared into the flickering flames. Eileen entered the room with two cups of hot milk. As she came in Mickey looked up and smiled. Eileen squeezed her way into the armchair beside him and handed him his cup. Together they sat in the fireside chair sipping their hot milk.
* * *
St Stephen’s Green, Shelbourne Hotel entrance, 11.45pm
Sparrow didn’t think there were this many police cars in Ireland, never mind around Stephen’s Green. It seemed that everywhere he looked there were flashing blue lights and white police cars. Teddy was put into a police car, with his hands tied behind his back. Bubbles was taken away in a police ambulance. A uniformed guard was handcuffed to Simple Simon Williams. They sat in the back of the ambulance. Just before the ambulance doors were closed, Sparrow met Simon’s gaze. It was cold and filled with hatred. Sparrow smiled at Simon Williams and gave him a little ‘bye, bye’ wave. The doors were slammed shut.
‘Well, that’s that, Sparrow. Lock, stock and barrel!’ Kieran Clancy slapped Sparrow on the back.
‘Yeh!’ is all Sparrow answered. Sparrow was dishevelled, his shirt torn, his arms, chest and face ripped. He was bruised and battered from the fight. He was in a mess, but he felt elated. Kieran and Sparrow were joined now by Michael Malone. Michael introduced himself to Sparrow and extended his hand.
‘Hello, Sparrow, I’m Michael Malone. I’m a fan. Jesus Christ, I don’t know where Menendez is tonight, but wherever he is, he felt that punch!’ As he said this, Michael let go with a big hefty West of Ireland laugh.
At first just a smile crossed Sparrow’s face, but then he too joined in the laughter, as did Kieran Clancy. When the laughter died down, Kieran put his arm around Michael Malone’s shoulders.
‘Well, Michael, this is the best way I can think of to start the New Year!’
‘New Year? New Year! Jesus! What time is it, Clancy?’
‘Quarter to midnight, why?’
‘Sam The Black!’ Sparrow said.
‘Who the black, what?’ Kieran was totally confused.
‘Sam The Black. Ah, it doesn’t matter.’ Sparrow waved a hand at Kieran and began to look furtively beyond the police cars.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Kieran.
‘A taxi. I have to get home! Now!’ Sparrow’s mind seemed to be somewhere else altogether.
‘Sure, I’ll drive you home – come on!’ Kieran began to pull Sparrow towards the police car. With sirens blaring and lights flashing, they sped through Dublin city. As they reached the edge of Snuggstown at the Fairy Well, Sparrow said aloud, ‘Happy New Year, fairies!’
Kieran gave him a sideways glance but made no comment. Suddenly, just as they came to Snuggstown village, Sparrow screamed, ‘Stop the car!’
Kieran screeched to a halt. ‘What? What’s up!’
But his question was lost as Sparrow leaped from the car. Kieran jumped out too, looking confused. He became even more confused as Sparrow kicked at the large corrugated tin gate of a coalyard. Kieran looked around to make sure there were no police in sight, and made his way to Sparrow.
‘Sparrow, Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you doing?’ The question arrived simultaneously with the bursting of the gate. Without reply, Sparrow disappeared through the gateway. By the time Kieran reached the gate Sparrow was coming out again.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got it!’ Sparrow said as he sprinted past Kieran back to the car.
‘What the fuck …’ Still confused, Kieran sprinted back to the driver’s side of the car. As he slammed the door, Sparrow prodded him on the shoulder.
‘Move, Kieran, move!’ Sparrow said, sounding as excited as a little kid.
* * *
The McCabe home, 12.00 midnight
Eileen and Mickey were sitting side-by-side on the fireside armchair. Eileen had her arm around Mickey and he was dozing lightly. On the television screen the revellers had nearly gone berserk. Thousands of people were gathered around Christ Church cathedral, awaiting the striking of the midnight bells. Eileen took the mug from Mickey’s hand and placed it on the fireplace. She sat back and Mickey snuggled up to her, the light of the fire flickering across their faces. Mickey began to suck his thumb just as the Christ Church bells began to ring out midnight. The crowds cheered and the party was in full swing.
Suddenly there was a loud banging at the front door. Both Mickey and Eileen sat up with a start. Mickey looked at his mother.
‘Sam The Black?’ Mickey asked excitedly.
Slowly Eileen got up. She made her way to the front door with Mickey just a few paces behind her. A little frightened, Eileen slowly opened the door. Standing on her doorstep was Sparrow McCabe. He was dirty, dishevelled, wet and covered in blood.
Eileen and Sparrow stared at each other for a moment. It then dawned on Eileen that the man standing before her was not the Sparrow McCabe who had left her home fifteen days before, but the Sparrow McCa
be who had left her life fifteen years before.
Sparrow had tears in his eyes. He tried to hold them back but he couldn’t, and they streaked down his face as if he was wearing mascara. Slowly he brought his hand up to chest level. It was closed in a fist. He opened it. In the palm of his hand was a lump of black coal.
‘Happy New Year, Eileen,’ Sparrow said.
And Eileen knew it would be.
About the Author
An acclaimed author, actor, director, scriptwriter and playwright, Brendan O’Carroll is one of Ireland’s most successful entertainers. Over the last fifteen years he has turned his Midas touch on a whole range of projects, from his much-loved radio show, Mrs Browne’s Boys, to his best-selling novels, The Mammy, The Chisellers and The Granny, his screen debut in Roddy Doyle’s The Van, his TV quiz show Hot Milk and Pepper, his stage successes, the release of the film adaptation of The Mammy, (called Agnes Browne and starring Anjelica Huston), and the smash-hit success of his TV sitcom, Mrs Brown’s Boys.
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2012 by
The O’Brien Press Ltd.,
12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland.
Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777
E-mail: books@obrien.ie
Website: www.obrien.ie
This edition published as The Scrapper, 2011.
First published as Sparrow’s Trap, 1997
eBook ISBN: 978-1-84717-448-2
Copyright © for text: Brendan O’Carroll
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British Library Cataloguing-in-publication Data
A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
Cover photographs:
Background image by Corrado Bosi.
Image of boy courtesy of Corbis
Typesetting, editing, design, layout: The O’Brien Press Ltd
THE MAMMY
Agnes Browne is a strong woman – strong enough to cope with widowhood, seven children, a tenement flat in The Jarro in the heart of Dublin city, and the daily grind of her Moore Street stall. But even strong women need a little help and a dream of their own to keep them going …
THE CHISELLERS
Three years after her husband Redser’s death, Agnes Browne soldiers on, being mother, father and referee to her family of seven. Helped out financially by her eldest, and hormonally by the amorous Pierre, Agnes copes with tragedy, success – and relocation to the ‘wilds of the country’ in suburban Finglas. And when an unscrupulous gangster threatens the family’s dreams he learns a costly lesson: when you take on one of Mrs Browne’s children you take on them all!
THE GRANNY
Agnes, now forty-seven, a granny and happily widowed for thirteen years, watches over the changing fortunes of her family – marriage, prison, broken relationships, literary success. Then the family begins to fragment and it seems that not even their mammy’s iron will can bring them together again. But you can never write off Agnes Browne!