Pack Up the Moon (33 page)

“Yes,” he nodded, brightening.

So I started the “Our Father” hoping against hope that he would join in before I got to the middle bit, which I definitely didn’t know.

“Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name …” Please join in.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done …”

Please, please, join in.

“… on earth as it is in Heaven.”

He’s joining in, thank Christ! OK, now I’ll just lower my voice so that I can mumble the middle bit.

“Nan nah nan nah nannahnana, and lead us la la la but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

Father Rafferty’s head was bowed.

I crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn’t launch into another prayer.

He didn’t. He blessed himself and smiled. “Thank you, Emma.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, relieved, still not having a clue why I’d even suggested it, but then I’d been acting really weird and I was beginning to worry it was more

than hormonal.

“I should go,- I said, attempting to get up.

“I hope that I’ll see you again,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed politely while struggling to move. He pulled back the shutter and! was left alone and still

kneeling. It felt like I was wedged in. Oh for fu—

“Father Rafferty!” I called out while knocking. The

shutter went back, revealing him.

“Emma?”

“I’m stuck,” I moaned, mortified.

He chuckled and the next time I saw him he had one

foot wedged against the door of the confession box while

attempting to haul me out.

*

Sean and I had decided that telling Noel about his son

over the phone was not the way to go and, as he was still in the western world completing the aid-worker

induction course, we felt it only fair that the news be delivered in person. Of course, when I say “we had decided ” I really mean “I had decided”. As I was unable to fly and no one else knew about the situation, it left Sean in the undesirable position of messenger.

Much later Sean had confided that it wasn’t Noel and

his problems or the fact that the plane seemed to be flying

a little too low that really bothered him on his way across

the Atlantic, although neither helped. Instead he spent most of his alone-time worrying about his own life and the new demands upon it.

When he later described to me the anguish he had suffered during that period of our life together, I have to admit I felt a little selfish. I hadn’t even noticed he was

stressed. Then again it’s so rare to catch a glimpse of someone else’s darkest fears. He told me that after the initial glow that came with the announcement of my

pregnancy had subsided and the reality of what fatherhood

would mean had dawned on him, he found himself in the unenviable position of being wholly terrified. It was probably not unusual for any man in his position to feel

somewhat panicky. After all, parenting is no joke. However, in Sean’s case there was more to it.

Sean had spent most of his life avoiding the issue of his

abandonment and to date he had found this tactic to be

successful. However, now while contemplating and awaiting the arrival of his own offspring, the fear and questions that had been instilled the day his mother walked out on

her family rose from deep inside and walls he had spent

years building slowly crumbled. As I grew bigger so did his fears. Would he be like her? Would he find rearing a child too difficult? Would he fail as a father as she had failed as a mother? His dad had often said they were alike; he had her eyes and her grin. Would he share her inability to be a decent parent? He ,hadn’t mentioned it to me; instead he attempted to fob off his obvious fears but they

refused to remain ignored, with the result that his every attempt only served to intensify them. He had tried to be reasonable, he was his father’s son after all, but the questions that he had never bothered with before were beginning

to choke him. Why did she leave? He knew why she left his father. Theirs was a marriage born out of duty as opposed to love. She had become pregnant with Sean and marriage was the only solution available at that time. His dad swore that she had loved her children but, if she had,

wouldn’t she have taken them with her? His dad had said it was more difficult for a single mother in the seventies but if

that was the case why didn’t she make an effort now that he

was an adult? He hadn’t really cared before. Initially, of course, he was devastated by her disappearance, as any child would be, but he got used to the situation, quickly realising that her absence coincided with the advent of a happier

household. Gone were the long arguments and the screaming rows and after a while he found himself more

contented and safer, ensuring her return would be met with anxiety and anger rather than with welcoming open arms. He had been very comfortable with her absence for such a

long time but now, on the cusp of fatherhood, he wondered whether his ability to walk away from his mother as she had

walked away from him was a sign that he was capable of

isolating those closest as she had done.

These fears were compounded by his track record. To date his relationships had been fleeting affairs, exciting but without any kind of depth. He loved me — he knew that. He had loved me a long time before it was decent. Initially he had wondered whether he was just coveting the kind

of relationship that his best friend had. Deep down though, he knew that wasn’t so. It had been hard and then his friend died and he drowned in his guilt, knowing that with John gone his way was clear and regretting every

second of the hope that that recognition brought. He had tried to stay away but that was too hard. Now he had all that he wanted for the first time but he wasn’t John: he wasn’t the steady one; he shouldn’t the first in the group to be a dad. He was the messy one, the guy who couldn’t hold down a relationship.

And he prayed: Oh please, God, don’t let me fuck this up!

So, on his way to see Noel, all these thoughts and memories tormented him and by the time the meal was

served he was a wreck. The airhostess who had served him alcohol kindly enquired how he was. He nodded that all was well, but deep down inside he was fighting the tears that hadn’t welled since he was a small boy. He tried to sleep but it wasn’t working out. The man beside him was snoring, his head against the window, his arm a little too close to Sean’s genitals for comfort. He wobbled up the aisle, regretting the last gin and tonic. He stood in the queue for the toilet hoping his nervous stomach would

keep it together, despite his mind refusing to do so.

And he worried. What if I can’t hack it? What if I run?

Back in his seat his arse felt sore. He pitied the gentleman who had been queuing behind him. His mind drifted back to the problem in hand. What would he say to Noel? How would he break the news that would surely break his friend? The safety-belt light blinked above his head and the captain announced that they were entering

an area of turbulence. He and his fellow-passengers bounced in their seats, lurching and bobbing until he felt his meal lodge in his neck. It was around this time that he wondered what the hell had made him agree to involve himself in

my brother’s life, when it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that he was losing control of his own. If he had disclosed his fears to me I could have told him that he had

nothing to worry about, that he was one of the most dependable people I knew and that he was his father’s son

in every way. I could have told him that we had something his parents never had and that a child would only strengthen

us. Then again, being hormonally challenged, I could have just told him to fuck off. Despite this, and maybe it was naďve, I knew deep down that we were going to be a family and we would have a happy ending as much as anyone in

this world can. He was either too kind or too scared to offload his woes on me. I wish he had. It hurts to think that he was twisted with fear, alone in the air and on the way to New York and a new set of problems.

He did manage to sleep, but it wasn’t for long. Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean he managed to push

his own worries to the back of his mind so that he could

focus on the job at hand.

Landing wasn’t as smooth as he would have liked, but nevertheless he found that he was grateful to be on solid

ground regardless of the wall of heat that seemed to

envelop him as he exited the plane. It was May and New York was unusually hot. He felt faint, but carried on regardless. Having only brought hand luggage he was grateful that he didn’t have to stand around a carousel for

an hour waiting for bags like his fellow passengers.

He made his way out to the taxis and handed an address to an old man in a grubby suit. It helped that the taxi driver spoke English and had appeared to live in the

city for longer then six months. The man spoke about a traffic jam on Amsterdam and shouted at a biker who had

cut across him. The radio was loud and the air conditioning wasn’t working. Maybe it was the heat or trepidation or exhaustion but within minutes he was asleep. The man woke him, laughing at the relaxed Irishman. He pointed towards an impressive-looking four-storey building, old by American standards.

Sean handed over the money and pulled himself out of

the car and onto the street. He stood watching the taxi pull away before he made his way to the door.

Now obviously I wasn’t there but Sean has a way of

telling a story so that you almost feel like you were there. So keeping in mind that this is not verbatim, it went something like this.

He went into the empty foyer, rang a bell and waited for a response, fixing himself as though he was picking up a girl for a first date.

A smiling middle-aged woman emerged. “Hot day,” she said.

“Yeah. I’m looking for Noel —”

“Father Noel?” she interrupted.

“That’s right,” he said, smiling for the first time that day At least he was in the right place.

“He’s in the diner on the corner,” she said, pointing. He thanked her and exited into the heat again, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

He could see Noel through the diner window before

he crossed the street. He looked good, wearing casual clothes. His hair was a little longer and he was laughing with the man seated opposite him, unaware of the bomb about to be dropped. Sean wondered if he should leave. It might be better to check into his hotel first, maybe shower and change his clothes. Maybe he should eat first, gain his strength. The closer to the window he got, the hotter it seemed to be. His stomach was annoying him again.

Christ, I hope it’s not an ulcer.

He entered quietly but the bell on the door gave him

away. Noel looked up automatically and then looked away before realisation crept upon his face and he turned back, focusing on his old friend. He jumped up and Sean braved a smile.

“What the hell?” Noel said, confused and delighted. Sean just smiled, hoping against hope that Noel wouldn’t worry until it was necessary. Noel’s eyes narrowed.

Too late.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hugging a weakened Sean.

“I’ve come to see you.”

“What’s wrong?” Noel asked, worried that something had happened to a member of his family.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sean lied while smiling at Noel’s friend.

The man returned the grin.

“You’re here on business?” Noel asked, leading him to the table.

“Yeah,” Sean heard himself saying. He sat.

Noel’s friend leaned across the table to shake his hand. “I’m Matt. It’s good to meet ya.”

Sean shook Matt’s hand. “You too,” he smiled, sick

that he had lied, yet relieved that he was facing a reprieve. “Matt’s a doctor — he’s worked all over the world.” Sean grinned at him. “Ever think of coming to Ireland?

We could certainly do with some more doctors.”

Matt laughed. “I think there’s probably more need in

the Third World.” He chuckled happily.

“Check out James’s St emergency room any night of the week and come back to me on that,” Sean said, grabbing the menu.

Noel laughed loudly, glad to be reminded of home even if it was its shit health system. “How’s my sister?” he asked and not before time.

“Good,” Sean smiled genuinely, possibly for the first time that day. “She’s getting big.”

“It won’t be long now,” Noel grinned.

“No,” Sean sighed and put the menu back. He wasn’t going to be able to eat now.

“Congratulations, man,” Matt said.

“Cheers,” Sean said, wondering whether or not Matt would be saying that to Noel any time soon.

They talked with Matt for a while. Sean reminisced about the time we had all spent a summer together

working in New York. Matt talked about 9/11 and the devastation that had overcome some of the areas that Sean

had remembered so fondly. Noel was excited about going to some distant land to make it a better place, anticipating what the future held. God love him.

Then Matt ran off to meet a girl. They didn’t hang about long. Noel was excited and wanted to show him some of the sights. Sean insisted he had been there, done that and asked if they could go back to Noel’s place. He used heat as the excuse and Noel seemed to buy it hook, line and sinker.

They walked back to his hotel. Noel was busy pointing out attractive buildings and cool cars. Sean was busy working out how to break his news. They reached the hotel and Noel talked briefly to the doorman while

Sean basked in the air-conditioned foyer.

“It’s raining at home,” Sean mumbled in the lift.

“It’s always raining at home,” Noel laughed. He let

them into the room and Sean parked himself in the chair. Noel fluffed his pillows and sat on the bed. “So what do you need to talk about?” he asked, kicking off his shoes.

“What?” Sean asked surprised.