Rugby Warrior

by Gerard Siggins

  ‘Nothing to worry about, Eoin, just work on what Mr McRae told us,’ said the scrum-half.

  Both sides traded penalties during the first half, but with time ticking away before the break, Castlerock won a good heel from a scrum on their opponents’ 22. Rory snapped the ball back to Eoin, who spied a large gap appearing behind the St Osgur’s left winger. With a delicate swing of his right boot he chipped the ball over the forwards and watched as it bobbled along the ground towards the corner flag. Suddenly, and in a glorious blur of green and white, Dylan hared along the touchline past his marker, and dived just as the ball landed on the try-line. His hands landed with a ‘slap’ on the white ball, and he fell face down in the soft grass.

  He stood up, arms straight in the air, and waited for his team-mates to engulf him. After a few seconds, the referee broke up the delighted huddle, and directed Eoin to convert the try. As he walked back, he heard a weedy cry from the stands.

  ‘Brilliant, Dylan, you’re brilliant!’ came the call, which was easy to pick up in the near-empty stadium.

  Eoin grinned, and looked up to see Dylan’s sister Caoimhe waving down at him. They were sitting close to Eoin’s parents, but when Grandad pointed at the posts he knew he had to concentrate on the tricky kick. There was a strange wind swirling around the stadium, and Eoin was struggling to master it. He was too far out to try to spear it directly, so he just launched it in the air, trying to allow for the wind and hoping it would carry between the posts. Unfortunately, at the last second a gust tugged the ball in against the upright and it fell back to the ground as the touch judges brushed their knees with their flags.

  The half-time whistle blew, 10-8 to St Osgur’s.

  ‘At least that’s better than last year,’ muttered Rory as they walked off. ‘We were 10-0 down then, remember?’

  CHAPTER 35

  Mr McRae spoke quietly at half-time. He pointed out quickly where they were going wrong, but insisted that he wasn’t at all worried because Castlerock had the weapons to win the battle. He took Eoin aside just before they went back out.

  ‘Keep talking to your backs, Eoin. They need a bit of direction and have to concentrate more,’ he started. ‘Dylan keeps looking around into the stands – he’s probably a bit overawed about playing at the national stadium, but he could miss a long kick or a pass if he’s not tuned in.’

  Eoin looked at the clock and realised they had a couple of minutes to spare. He decided to visit the loo, just as he had the year before. And, just as then, Brian was there when he came out.

  ‘You’re playing well, Eoin. I wouldn’t be too concerned about being behind on the scoreboard. I like the look of that little winger, he’s very fleet of foot. I met your pal Dave Gallaher – he’s a bit sore about losing that memento, but he forgives you. Now get back on the field and let me see how much you’ve come on since last year.’

  The second half started with a bang as second row Pearse Hickey went on a thundering charge which was only halted four metres from the line. Castlerock controlled the ball through a series of rucks before Rory flipped the ball past Eoin to where Richie was waiting. He broke inside and was tackled on the line. As he released the ball Dylan snatched it and burrowed in to touch down. Castlerock try – and the lead!

  Dylan looked up to where his mum and sister had been sitting, but was surprised to see they weren’t there. ‘They must be late back from their half-time hot dog,’ grinned Eoin, as he prepared to slot the ball over for the conversion points and a 15-10 lead.

  ‘Has anyone ever scored a hat-trick of tries on their Lansdowne Road début?’ asked Dylan, as Castlerock enjoyed a break a few minutes later as one of the St Osgur’s props was treated by the physio.

  ‘Take it easy, Dylan,’ snapped Eoin. ‘The only thing that matters today is that we end the game with more points than them – it’s a team game, it’s not about one player’s glory!’

  Dylan nodded, and dropped his head, sheepishly. He walked back out to the left-wing and waited for play to resume.

  With five minutes left, Castlerock held their five-point lead, but St Osgur’s had been camped in their half for quite a while and were looking more and more likely to score. A trip by Eoin nearly caused disaster, as his opposite number saw the gap and almost made the breakthrough. A thumping tackle by Richie Duffy floored him, and Eoin nodded his thanks.

  The St Osgur’s scrum-half flipped the ball out the line, and the centre tried a long pass out to the left winger, who was standing on the touchline. With remarkable speed of thought and foot, Dylan burst into the gap and snatched the ball from the air. He tucked it under his right arm and hared off up the field as fast as his legs could carry him. The opposition’s backs chased as hard as they could, but realised there was no catching the little winger.

  Rory, who had spotted the move and chased off to support Dylan, was on his shoulder as he reached the try-line. Dylan looked back to see his former rival for the scrum-half spot, and slowly and gently tossed the ball back to him. Rory grinned, and touched the ball down between the posts, before turning to embrace Dylan.

  The pair trotted back to the half-way line each with an arm over the other’s shoulders.

  Eoin patted the pair on the head in turn, giving Dylan an extra one for his selfless action. With the conversion Castlerock were now 22-10 ahead and there would be no way back for St Osgur’s.

  When the final whistle came, Dylan ran up to Eoin, but he didn’t look at all like a player who had just won the cup for his school at the Aviva Stadium.

  ‘Have you seen Mum and Caoimhe?’ he asked. ‘I haven’t seen them at all during the second half. That’s not like Caoimhe at all – and she’s hard to miss.’

  Eoin turned to see Mr McRae jogging onto the field and heading straight for them. And he was followed by Mr McCaffrey and a member of the Garda Siochána.

  CHAPTER 36

  ‘We need you to come with us now, Dylan,’ said the headmaster. ‘There’s been an incident and we need to make sure you’re safe.’

  ‘Of course I’m safe,’ said Dylan. ‘I’ve been playing rugby for the last hour and a half, but besides a few knocks I’m fine.’

  ‘No, son,’ said the Garda. ‘We need to be sure you’re in a safe place for the next while. Your sister has disappeared and we’re searching everywhere for her. We have reason to believe you are also a target.’

  ‘A target!’ said Dylan. ‘For who?’

  ‘We think your father has taken Caoimhe,’ said the headmaster. ‘He was spotted near the ground today. Your sister went to buy a drink at half-time and never came back to her seat. Your poor mother is in an awful state. Now come along with Inspector Condren here and he’ll make sure no harm comes to you.’

  Dylan left immediately, with the Garda keeping his hand firmly on the boy’s shoulder as they walked off the pitch.

  ‘I suppose you better go to collect the trophy now, skipper,’ said Mr McRae. ‘Don’t mention this to the team. They’ll find out soon enough and they need to enjoy the moment of victory – and congratulations by the way; that was a superb win.’

  Eoin walked slowly from the field, his head reeling by what he had just heard. He knew Dylan’s father was a criminal, but this seemed a terrible thing for anyone to do.

  The Castlerock supporters cheered and he received dozens of claps on the back as he went up the steps to the VIP box to collect the Begley Cup. He made a very short speech which thanked everyone he needed to thank, but no more. He wanted to get back to the dressing room as soon as possible.

  He collected the cup and his medal, before taking the steps down two at a time. At the bottom he handed the trophy to Mr McCaffrey and headed inside.

  Passing several Gardaí on the way, he reached the dressing room just as a now-dressed Dylan was leaving. His team-mate was very upset and Inspector Condren shook his head at Eoin.

  As Dylan left, Eoin placed his hand on his shoulder and whispered, ‘Everything will be fine.’

  The rest of the team ar
rived in the dressing room soon after, but their delight was soon cut short when Rory piped up.

  ‘What was all that with Dylan at the final whistle? What was the Garda doing on the pitch?’ he asked, looking at Eoin.

  ‘I can’t say,’ the captain replied. ‘Just enjoy the win guys – we may have been in this very same place last year with our winners’ medals, but that’s no guarantee that we’ll ever be here again. Savour this victory, you’ve really earned it.’

  But no one really had the stomach for any celebrations – no matter what Eoin said, they all knew something was very wrong with Dylan.

  Eoin went into the bathroom once again, more to escape the questions and gloomy mood that had descended over the victors.

  As he stood looking in the mirror, Brian suddenly appeared over his shoulder.

  ‘Eoin, come quickly,’ he said. ‘I saw something terrible happen and you can help.’

  ‘What, what is it?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘I was up on the middle deck at half-time,’ said Brian, ‘just wandering around minding my own business, I was. And just as I was heading up the steps for the second half I spotted a big, burly man grab this little girl with red hair. He came up behind her and put a handkerchief over her mouth. I knew he was up to no good, so I followed him.

  ‘He went down in the lift and carried her out along the tunnel. It was quiet at that stage and nobody saw him. He put her into the back of a red van in the corner of the car park and came back towards the stand. I was watching him all through the second half and made sure he didn’t move.

  ‘I spotted Dave Gallaher down by the pitch and he’s been helping me. He’s out the back now keeping an eye on the van. He’ll give me a whistle if your man comes back.’

  ‘And where is the kidnapper now?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘He’s just outside the door here,’ said Brian. ‘Who is he looking for?’

  ‘He’s looking for Dylan, the left winger,’ explained Eoin. ‘He’s his father. The girl is Dyl’s sister.’

  ‘What will we do?’ asked Brian.

  ‘I’ll go outside and try to find a Garda – there were plenty of them around earlier on,’ Eoin said. ‘Can you try to find my mate, Alan? He was able to see Dave Gallaher this week so he may be able to see you. Show him where the van is and get him to tell the Gardaí.’

  Eoin went back to the dressing room and quickly pulled on his tracksuit. Throwing his kit-bag over his shoulder, he rushed out of the room and down the corridor towards the tunnel under the stands. As he reached the doorway, he found it was blocked by a familiar figure – it was the man he had met at the Young Historian Exhibition.

  ‘Have you seen Kevin? Or “Dylan”, as you call him?’ he growled.

  ‘No, he’s still in the dressing room,’ said Eoin, eager to get away.

  ‘He’s not. He left there ten minutes ago,’ said the man.

  Eoin turned, and made to go back down the corridor. The man grabbed him by the back of his collar, and pressed a handkerchief over his mouth. Eoin inhaled, and could just taste a nasty chemical when he blacked out.

  CHAPTER 37

  Eoin woke up soon afterwards to find he was in a dark, smelly place. He still felt groggy from the knockout drug, but he could hear the sound of someone crying close by. He opened his eyes wider, and could just make out the shape of a head. As his eyes got used to the darkness he recognised the curly hair – it was Dylan’s little sister.

  ‘Caoimhe,’ he whispered, ‘this is Eoin. Remember? I called to see Dyl in Ormondstown.’

  ‘Yes, I remember.’ she sniffed. ‘What’s going to happen? Where are we?’

  ‘I think we’re in a van in the car park of the stadium. It hasn’t moved so I think we’re still there. Hold tight – he’s trying to find Dylan.’

  But the man wasn’t having any luck in the hunt for his son. He dodged the Gardaí as he wandered the stadium, but couldn’t find his son anywhere. He decided to cut his losses and head back to the van. ‘At least I’ve got the one of them,’ he muttered to himself.

  On the way he debated with himself about what he was going to do about Eoin.

  Meanwhile, Brian had scoured the faces of the Castlerock fans milling around the food and drink outlets after the game. Some were staying on for the Leinster match, others were keen to get back to the school to continue the celebrations. He went back out to the car park, where Castlerock’s buses were idling just inside the gate. Brian looked across at the far corner where the red van was still parked.

  He watched as all the pupils climbed aboard the bus, before he spotted a small boy with scruffy blond hair staring right at him. He waved at him, and called out ‘Alan?’

  Alan continued to stare as he walked towards him.

  ‘Alan – I’m Brian,’ he gasped.

  ‘I think I worked that out,’ said Alan, not noticing the funny looks his fellow students were giving him as he spoke, apparently, to fresh air.

  ‘You have to come with me – Dylan’s little sister is in trouble. I need your help!’

  ‘What can I do?’ he said, walking around to the back of the bus where he could avoid the curious stares of the boys who thought he was talking to himself.

  ‘Do you see that red van over there?’ Brian pointed. ‘Well a kidnapper put her in the back of it.’

  With that, another figure came around the side of the coach. It was Dave Gallaher.

  ‘Brian, Alan, you need to come quick,’ he told them, ‘He’s got Eoin now. He put him in the motor and went back inside. But he’s on his way back out now.’

  Dave pointed at the man as he walked down the steps and into the car park.

  Thinking quickly, Alan rushed over to where two Gardaí were standing.

  ‘Sir, are you looking for a missing girl?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said the officers. ‘What do you know about that?’

  ‘I think I saw that man over there carrying a girl into the back of his van,’ Alan gasped.

  The Gardaí looked at each other before sprinting across the enormous car park.

  ‘Stop right there,’ they called, as the man reached his vehicle.

  Dylan’s dad jumped inside and got it started immediately, and drove the van at speed towards the two policemen. They dived out of the way but were left floundering on the ground as the kidnapper headed for the exit.

  However, Alan had filled in Mr McRae on what was happening, and the quick-witted teacher hopped into the driver’s seat of the school bus. He stepped on the pedals and quickly guided the bus sideways across the exit to the car park, before telling the boys to get off the bus as quickly as they could and to run towards the West Stand.

  When the kidnapper turned his car to face the exit, he saw that his way was blocked – and that he was trapped inside the car park. He sped up to the gate and jumped out of the car, but saw, to his dismay, that Mr McRae had parked the bus so tightly against the fence that he couldn’t even escape on foot. His shoulders slumped, defeated, and he was quickly pounced on by several Gardaí.

  Mr McRae rushed across to the red van with Alan and they opened the back doors of the kidnapper’s vehicle just as Dylan walked out of the back door of the grandstand with his Garda escort. The boy stared at the scene, before quickly understanding what was going on and making for the back of the van.

  Mr McRae took his penknife to the ties that bound Eoin and Caoimhe hand and foot, and the pair emerged blinking into the sunny afternoon. Dylan’s mum came rushing out of the stadium, accompanied by Mr McCaffrey, just in time to see her husband being bundled into a Garda car and her son and daughter embracing joyfully.

  ‘Did you win?’ was the first question Caoimhe asked Dylan. ‘After all that’s happened, I really hope you did.’

  CHAPTER 38

  After Dylan’s dad had been driven away, and the Gardaí had finished questioning Eoin and Caoimhe about their ordeal, Mr McCaffrey returned to the stadium to collect them.

  ‘Alan Handy was quite a hero,’ the he
admaster said, as they sipped tea in his office in Castlerock. ‘If he hadn’t told the Gardaí and Mr McRae about the van, who knows what might have happened. I’m still not sure how on earth he spotted the little girl being put in the van, but all’s well that ends well.’

  ‘Well, I’m just delighted that everyone came out of it unhurt,’ said Dylan’s mother. ‘I was truly terrified for a while there. Caoimhe and Eoin were very brave too.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t do very much,’ shrugged Eoin.

  ‘No, you were very good to Caoimhe,’ replied her mum, ‘and she was much happier when you were in the van.’

  ‘Well, I’m just glad it’s all over – and we have another lovely trophy to remind us of the drama,’ chuckled Mr Finn, who had just come into the office with Dixie Madden and Eoin’s parents.

  ‘Yes, but a trophy wouldn’t have mattered very much if any of these fine youngsters had been hurt,’ said Dixie.

  Eoin smiled at his grandad.

  ‘And I understand extra congratulations are in order,’ Grandad added. ‘It has been quite a week for you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Eoin blushed, ‘I suppose it was.’

  ‘Where are you going on that trip with your class?’ the old man asked. ‘And can I come too?’ he joked.

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible Mr Madden,’ interrupted the headmaster. ‘They only pay for twenty-two boys and three teachers. But we are going to the place Eoin requested – the battlefields of the Western Front in the Great War. I’m sure the boys will learn a lot from it and we can pay our respects to Dave Gallaher too.’

  Eoin smiled, relieved that the headmaster had agreed with his suggestion. But talk of Dave Gallaher only reminded him that he had failed his ghostly friend by losing the precious piece of cloth.