Brilliant (6 page)

“You'd want to mind that poor lad,” said their granny.

Gloria saw her granny's feet move. She was standing up.

“What d'you mean?” said their dad.

“Depression,” said Gloria's granny.

Gloria saw her granny's feet turn. Her slippers were two dogs' heads, and the ears bounced on the floor. They were like a pair of mad twins.

Una's mother looked at Pat.

“The black dog of depression has climbed onto that poor fella's back,” she said.

Pat and Una both nodded. They knew what she meant. Ben might be suffering from depression. They accepted it, even though it was horrible to hear and they both wanted to cry.

“I'll tell you,” said Una's mother. “The whole city seems depressed. So many people you see out there look so unhappy.”

They nodded again. She was saying exactly what Pat and Una thought.

“But anyway,” said Una's mother. “That's the way of it. I've lived through hard times before, but I've never known anything like this. I've seen the black dog's bad work before, but I've never seen him take over the whole city. I'd be worried about that lad, so I would.”

Raymond heard his granny put something on the table—the teapot.

“There's more tea for you,” she said.

“Are you not having a cup yourself?” said their mam.

“No, no,” said their granny. “I'm off to bed. The politicians can tell their lies, but your bed will never let you down.”

Gloria watched her granny's dog slippers as they started to turn again. Gloria saw one heel step on a dog's ear. She saw her granny trip. She heard her granny hit the table.

“Oh God!”

“Are you all right?” said their mam.

Gloria saw their mam push back her chair and start to stand up. They were going to be caught. Their mam was going to see them.

“I'm grand,” said their granny. “But I whacked my funny bone.”

They heard her groan.

“And it isn't funny at all,” she said.

“Are you sure you're all right?”

“I'm grand, I'm grand,” said Raymond's granny. “But it makes me think. The funny bone. That's what's happening. The city's funny bone is gone. There's no one laughing anymore.”

“You might be right,” said Raymond and Gloria's dad.

“I think I am,” said their granny. “There's a thought. The black dog of depression stole Dublin's funny bone.”

Raymond watched his granny's slippers continue the journey to the kitchen door.

“It's desperate,” she said. “What's happening to young Ben and all the others. And no one seems to be willing or able to do anything about it.”

She opened the kitchen door.

“Anyway,” she said. “I'm off to my little damp granny flat. Night-night.”

She walked out and didn't look back. So she didn't see Raymond and Gloria under the table. They heard her walk down the hall. They heard the front door opening, and closing.

Raymond watched his parents' legs and feet. He could tell: They were getting ready to stand up. There was a tiny hole in his dad's sock. He was tempted to lean over and tickle his dad's toe. He really wanted to. But he didn't—he resisted. Something told him his parents wouldn't have liked finding him and Gloria under the table. Not after what they'd been talking—mumbling—about. It wasn't a game, not tonight.

Gloria was looking at her parents' feet too. They'd been getting ready to stand. But they stopped—they paused.

“Her flat isn't damp, is it?” said their mam.

“She's damp,” said their dad.

“Ah, stop.”

“No,” said her dad. “The flat's grand. And I don't know why she said it was damp.”

“She was only joking.”

“She's hilarious.”

“She used to be,” said Gloria's mam. “She really was.”

Gloria heard her mam sigh.

“Anyway,” she said.

Gloria's mam often did that—said “Anyway” and nothing else when she was distracted or a bit low.

Raymond and Gloria watched their parents stand up. They felt closer to each other, even though they hadn't moved. They were trying to make themselves smaller, so their parents wouldn't spot them.

Raymond heard them pick up cups and stuff. He heard their dad.

“Leave them. I'll do them in the morning.”

He heard their mam. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“It'll be a pain in the neck in the morning, love,” said their mam.

“It'll be a bigger pain now,” said their dad.

Gloria heard their mam laugh—or trying to. It came out a bit like a snort.

“Are you worried about Ben?” their mam asked their dad.

“I am, yeah,” said their dad. “A bit.”

He sighed.

“She's probably right about the depression,” he said. “The black dog thing she was talking about. It's a good way of describing depression, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“Black dog,” said their dad. “Woof bloody woof.”

Gloria watched her mam's feet, then her dad's, his legs, then nearly all of him as he got nearer the door and farther from the table.

He switched off the light. It was suddenly dark—Raymond tried not to gasp.

“We'll keep an eye on him,” said their mam.

“I suppose so,” said their dad. “But I wish there was more we could do. I just feel so bloody powerless.”

He sighed again.

“What a bloody country.”

The door clicked shut.

CHAPTER 5

G
loria and Raymond crawled out
from under the table.

It wasn't too dark now. There was some light coming in from the kitchen window.

They waited till they heard their parents moving around upstairs. They knew exactly what was happening, as if they were reading a story and the words were written across the ceiling. Their mam went into the bathroom, and their dad went into their bedroom. Their mam turned on the water, their dad closed the bedroom curtains.

Raymond and Gloria waited.

Their mam brushed her teeth, their dad threw his trousers on the floor. Their mam hummed a bit of a song, and their dad did one of his big yawns.

They waited.

Their parents swapped places. Their dad went into the
bathroom. He said something to their mam, and she laughed—but it wasn't a real laugh. Their dad turned on the water, and their mam dropped a shoe on the floor. Their dad crossed the landing, into their bedroom. He closed their bedroom door quietly. They heard their dad lie back on the bed.

Gloria and Raymond looked at each other. And they listened. A few more minutes and they'd hear their dad snore, and the noise of their mam making him move onto his side.

Raymond whispered, “Did you hear what they said?”

“Granny's damp,” Gloria whispered back.

“Not that,” Raymond whispered. “The other thing. The thing Granny said.”

“The Black Dog.”

“Yeah,” said Raymond. “The Black Dog of Depression took Dublin's funny bone.”

They heard the snore—their dad had started. They heard the bed creak, and their dad stopped, as if the snore had been broken in half.

They waited for a few more seconds.

“Yeah,” Gloria whispered. “And they're worried about Uncle Ben.”

“The Black Dog's been on his back.”

“I didn't see him on Uncle Ben's back,” Gloria whispered. “Did you, Rayzer?”

“No.”

It upset them. It was horrible. The Black Dog of Depression definitely wasn't a nice dog, and he'd been climbing onto their uncle's back. They didn't know what the Black Dog did then—licked
Uncle Ben with his horrible tongue or whispered horrible things into Uncle Ben's ear. They didn't know. They'd only just heard about the Dog.

They both shivered.

“We have to do something,” said Raymond—he whispered.

“What?”

“Get the funny bone back from the Black Dog,” Raymond whispered.

“Yeah,” Gloria agreed—she whispered too. “It'll cheer up Uncle Ben and make him better again.”

“Let's go.”

“Hang on,” said Gloria. “What's a funny bone?”

“It's the bit of the body that makes you laugh,” said Raymond. “You know the way the heart is where your blood goes and the lungs are where your air goes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Raymond whispered, “the funny bone's where the laughs are stored, before you use them.”

“And the Black Dog wants to rob Uncle Ben's funny bone?”

“Not sure,” said Raymond. “Think so.”

“So Uncle Ben can't laugh.”

“Yeah,” said Raymond. “Or even smile—without trying really hard.”

Gloria nodded. It all made sense. She'd seen her Uncle Ben trying to smile.

“And does Dublin have a funny bone as well?” she whispered.

“Granny said so,” said Raymond.

“Ah, well, then,” said Gloria.

She trusted her granny, and it still made sense. No one in the city seemed to laugh anymore. No teachers, or any of the other adults she knew.

“Let's go,” said Raymond.

“Now, like?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Gloria ran to the back door—it was the nearest way out—but Raymond ran to the other door, the one their dad had closed a few minutes before.

Gloria was confused.

“Where are we going, Rayzer?” she whispered.

“Upstairs, to get our clothes on.”

“Oh yeah,” Gloria whispered. “I forgot.”

They were still in their jammies. They'd no shoes or socks on, or anything. She laughed—quietly.

“There's nothing wrong with my funny bone, Rayzer,” she whispered.

They crept out into the hall and went quietly back up the stairs. They crept into Raymond's bedroom. They didn't turn on the light. The click of the switch would have been too loud. They took off their pajamas and put on proper clothes. They didn't sit on the bed, so the bedsprings wouldn't creak or squeal. They crept back out to the landing. They went back down the stairs, very carefully over the loose nail in the second-to-last step. They shut the kitchen door again, carefully, quietly.

They sat on the floor and put on their shoes.

“Will we bring our coats?”

“I hate my coat.”

“Me too.”

Raymond was unlocking the back door, about to step into the night.

The door was open now. The new cold air was all around them.

“Where are we going, Rayzer?” Gloria asked.

“Don't know,” said Raymond.

He gulped—it was dark out there.

He took a big breath.

“But we have to find the Black Dog,” he said. “And he's not in here. So come on.”

They ran out into the back garden. The security light from
O'Leary's house next door went on, with a click and a blast of white light.

“Oh my God!”

“Come on!”

Raymond led the way to the side of the house. It was cold, and there was a smell of old trash bin. O'Leary's security light clicked off.

Raymond stopped.

“I can't see.”

He tried to sound casual.

“I might step in something yucky.”

“Brilliant,” said Gloria, and the word popped open above them and filled the passage between the houses with gentle yellow light. They were shocked but not all that surprised.