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Authors: Ciarán Collins

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BOOK: The Gamal
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—Where was My Boy playing?

or

—Jesus that was a great goal My Boy got, in fairness.

I dunno if James was ever embarrassed about him. I doubt he was. I think Sinéad was definitely embarrassed by her parents though.

Her father was the meanest alcoholic in Europe. Himself and Sinéad’s mother would go on holidays and he’d come back with plastic cutlery he took from the plane. And one time when Sinéad got a lamp for her room so she could study he took the bulb out of the ceiling light to compensate. He was the only man of his generation in the area not to have a car. They lived in a council house. That’s a house the council give to poor people for half the price of an ordinary house. Her mother didn’t want to move into a council house but her father was mad to get one. Pretended he had a bad back and couldn’t work around the time they got married in order to get his hands on one. Then sent his wife out to work. Then went off to work himself once he knew they couldn’t take the council house off him. They used to joke that the Kents wouldn’t be rich enough for any daughter of his. He didn’t drive a car cos he was too mean maybe or maybe he just preferred to be able to drink wherever he went.

—If he’s to pay for the wedding it’ll be below in Roundy’s.

—Tight-arse fuck!

Sinéad’s father went around the world trying not to be noticed. His daughter’s lack of fear for standing out made him nervous. Suspicious of her even. He was embarrassed by Sinéad hooking up with James from day one. Betrayal he thought it was.

—Fine thing you fucking stick to your own.

Lads in work would mock him about it. Henry Lee said to him in the pub once that if all went well with James and Sinéad he could become the landlord’s lieutenant. They were all laughing. Saw the same fella, this Henry Lee, blame James one time. James kicked a ball to a fella but it was a bad pass and the other team worked the ball back up the field and got a goal. This fella was cursing James after the match even though James was the best player on the field and scored seven points and set up another seven. And they wouldn’t have been within an arse’s roar of the final in the first place without James winning all the other matches for them. Henry Lee.

Sinéad’s mother did the office for a big panel-beating garage in Fermoy. Left early in the morning. Came home late. Sometimes she didn’t come home at all. There was trouble at home a lot in Sinéad’s house.


20

Found the euro sign. Button with Alt Gr on it and 4 if you’re ever stuck for it. Dollar sign is easier. $. People take care of their own. Anyhow the reason I wanted to say

20 was cos I was saying wouldn’t it be grand if you could just ring me and I could tell you what happened. For

20. Seems stupid now. Not even worth the trouble. But this writing lark is still sickening my hole. I’m going for a walk.

Closure

Dr Quinn sent me to another head doctor as well this week. This fella agreed that the writing would help me form closure. He wanted a hundred snots, but I had no money on me. I told him I was going to the bank and that was the last he saw of me. I’m still having the dreams though. And the headaches. I like writing at night. I see through the bullshit better. It’s like when you’re tired you remember the bad things as well. When you’re wide awake and full of life everyone’s great. Even the fuckers. Dinky and Teesh were some fuckers. ’Tis dark and quiet now and there’s a dog barking. The only other sound is the laptop. See in the daytime you’d think a laptop is quiet. ’Tis only at night you notice these things. The senses are rawer. And the mind is brave.

Why Did Crying Evolve?

I dunno. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s like I can think of nothing else only what happened. My headache’s at me all day now and it’s only getting worse thinking about telling my story. Not today anyhow. My eyes are watering mad now too. You’d wonder with all this evolution crack why did crying evolve?

Thinking

Sometimes I could spend the whole day thinking about something like what has jealousy got to do with betrayal. And what has love got to do with vengeance. Or what has hatred got to do with laughter. Heard some yank on the radio the other day saying that laughing evolved from the apes to tell each other that the lad who fell off the tree was OK and wasn’t after breaking his hole. I could think about laughter for ever. Like what has it got to do with pain. And how it can be an attack or it can be a defence. Laughter.

But mostly now I can concentrate with the tablets. I can sit and watch television for hours and not be thinking about Sinéad or not have some tune of hers in my head or some tune of somebody else that would only remind me of Sinéad cos it was someone else singing. Telly used to upset Sinéad. She used to say it was like death. Like how it sapped the life out of you. Like a hypnotist making you forget that you’re alive. Or like a traveller doing the three card trick. Bamboozled you. But you didn’t lose your money. You lost your life. The time of your life. Telly made her think of her death I think. So I missed a lot of telly when I was hanging around with Sinéad and James but now I can watch it away with the tablets and no thoughts of Sinéad upsetting my head. It was a madness is what it was isn’t it? To be thinking about music all the time. Sinéad and James and me that time I’m thinking now we were a small bit mad definitely. If they had these tablets they might have fitted in better. Been able to talk to Racey and Dinky and Teesh and everyone about
Friends
or
Home and Away
or
Coronation Street
. Or watch videos with them in Snoozie’s house like
Police Academy 6
or
Wayne’s World
.

Humpty Dumpty

We had this young teacher in fourth class long ago, Mr Costigan, for a few months. He was in from the teacher training college and he was always up for a laugh. We did a Rose of Ballyronan Contest in class one day. Sinéad wasn’t in school that day.

Course she’d have won if she was there. Then we had a Man of Ballyronan Contest. The teacher interviewed and the lads answered the questions. Most were all shy smiles, looking down at the ground and blushing and shrugging their shoulders saying, ‘I dunno,’ to every question.

—Hello and what’s your name?

—Ahmn . . . Tony.

—Tony what?

—Tony Desmond.

—And tell me a little about yourself Tony.

—Ahm . . . Like what?

—Well for instance what sport do you like?

—Ahm . . . Football.

—I see. And why do you like football?

—Ahm . . . I dunno.

—And who are your favourite team?

—Cork.

—And who’s your favourite player?

—Larry Tompkins.

—Larry Tompkins. By God yer all big Larry Tompkins fans. And tell me Tony what would your ideal woman be like?

—Ahm . . . I dunno.

—You don’t know?

—Ahm . . . Good-looking.

—Good-looking. Very well Tony. Can you think of any famous girl that you think might be good-looking?

—Ahm . . . that one in
The Bangles
. Susanna.

—Susanna. Is that the girl that all the other lads said as well?

—Ahm . . . yeah!

—My goodness, I’ll have to check out this band The Bangles.

The whole class laughed then all lick-arsy.

—And tell me Tony, have you any party piece you’d like to do for us?

—Ahm . . . no.

—Very well then Tony. Well done. You can go back to your seat. Good man yourself.

Tony went off back to his seat, head down smiling and the sweaty red face on him. The whole bleddy lot of them were the same. Smiling and looking down at the ground and shifting their weight from one foot to the other. No one took up an offer to do a party piece like all the girls had before half ten break. Most girls did a poem. A few sang. Just made everyone think of Sinéad not being there. Three girls did a few Irish dancing steps. But the lads were just too cool for any of that. Then it was Dinky’s turn.

—Hello what’s your name?

—Denis.

He had both hands in his pockets and he was just staring out the window, half bored-looking with his lips pursed. A few of the girls giggled.

—And tell me about yourself Denis.

—What can I say? Play a bit of football. Bit of a lady’s man.

The class laughed mad at this.

—Very good. And tell me, what would you like to be when you’re big?

—I think I’d like to be an actor or join the army.

—Very good. Do you know anyone in the army?

—Yeah my uncle is in the army.

—Is he?

—Yeah.

—And does he serve with the UN? The United Nations?

—Dunno.

—Does he go out foreign?

—Yeah sometimes he does be gone a good while.

—Very good. And what do you think is the best thing about being a soldier?

—Having a gun of your own.

A little giggle came from the class again.

—And tell me Denis have you a party piece for us?

—Not a chance, Dinky says.

The class all laughed when Dinky gave a peace sign walking back to his seat.

Next was James.

—Hello young man.

—All right man, how’s tricks?

The whole class laughed at James grabbing the chance to be all casual talking to the teacher.

—Not so bad, thank you. And tell me, what’s your name?

—James Kent.

—Kent. That’s not a very common name around these parts.

—There are fourteen in the phone-book in the whole of Cork. I checked it out. So no, it’s not that common in Cork.

—And where does the name Kent come from?

—England. Sure everyone knows that England is full of Kents!

Even Mr Costigan gave a flicker of a smile that time. The class were in stitches.

—OK, right! Settle down. If I don’t get silence now the Man of Ballyronan contest is over.

That shut them up.

—And tell me James, do you have any hobbies?

—I like knitting!

More laughs.

—Right OK, settle down. Any other hobbies?

—I like playing flog.

—Flog?

—Yeah flog. It’s my favourite sport.

—Flog? Never heard of it. Tell me about it.

—Yeah. I made it up myself. It’s golf backwards. You start at hole eighteen and work your way back to one.

More laughs.

—Right, that’s very good James. Tell me have you any party piece?

—I do. I would like to sing.

—What would you like to sing?

—I’d like to sing a song called ‘Humpty Dumpty’.

He sang ‘Humpty Dumpty’ as a sincere slow plaintive lament. Doesn’t seem too funny now, but to a roomful of ten-year-olds it was the funniest thing ever.

Out of sixteen girls James got fourteen of the votes. Didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I should have. That a certain per cent of the girls didn’t like James’ funny antics or his good looks or his jokes should have got me thinking at the time. It wasn’t only the lads who resented James, it was some of the girls too.

Sometimes even when they knew he was right people would disagree with James. I seen that too always. Just for the sake of it. Gang up on him even. Even stuff that didn’t even matter. Like the score of a match. Or whether some show was good or not. I seen people change their minds just to disagree with him. As a group. I seen it a million times. I won’t tell you the million.

But James had a weakness. Like the time on the Ballyronan under-eighteen team when James started letting Dinky come up from corner back to take the penalties even though James was one of the best penalty takers in the county and was taking them for the county team. A team that Dinky wasn’t within an arse’s roar of making. And the coach who was Roundy, the other publican in the village and the other players delighted to be taking James down here with the rest of us. See James thought no one ever could pose a threat to him. Dangerous thing it is to have no fear. Fear is what keeps us safe isn’t it? He usen’t realise it at the time but fellas would be seeing if James was. What’s the word you’d say? Challengeable. Little things like. And little fellas. Not all types. The littlest mostly. And I don’t mean the size of them to look at. I mean the size of who it was they were as men. Or as boys. Because that kind of size never changes. A man apart. That’s what the father’d call James, maybe. And some lads who recognised this about James wanted to bring him down in small ways. The worst thing for them though was that James would only be nicer to them. He’d yield in whatever way the challenge was because in the great scheme of things he discounted the little things as having no importance. He was wrong to do this. Like letting Dinky have his moment and take the penalty just cos it meant more to Dinky than him.

When a fella sizes you up you should leave him knowing you’re not one to be fucked around with. Should let him know for sure too. Instead of being nice to him and feeling sorry for him. Sometimes I think James thought he was some kind of saint or something. Fucking eejit. Never thought anyone could ever pose a challenge to him. Maybe that was his main trouble. He never saw anyone as a threat. James was nice to everyone. He went out of his way to be nice to people. People didn’t expect it from him. Some people distrusted him because of it. Thought he must have been fucking around with them in some way or form, somewhere in the dark black monkey parts of their brains. They didn’t trust his niceness.

BOOK: The Gamal
12.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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