The Gamal (25 page)
—Yeah.
—Very good. I suppose you’ll miss James too will you?
—Yeah.
—I’ll miss him myself. As will his mother. You know, his mother now will be awful quiet in herself for a few days. Then she’ll get used to the idea of him not being around. Went to Greece for a week without him when he was about two. Took her a few days to get used to him not being around then too. She’ll be fine in a few days.
He stared at me suddenly then, half worried-looking, same as a child after dropping something and he goes,
—Do you think?
—Ha?
He stared off into the dark tunnel then where the trains go off to Dublin. Then half to himself he said,
—At least I hope she will.
Silence then again. He looked over to where James and Sinéad were. They were beside an old steam engine that the rail crowd had there for people to be looking at. James had her hands in his and was talking to her. They hugged and kissed. Talked. Hugged and kissed. Talked. James’ father turned his attention back to me then.
—I hope he keeps up the football now in college. Good for the body. What’s good for the body is good for the mind. Isn’t that right Charlie?
—Yeah.
—Christ I dunno how he’ll ever manage without her. They’ve been side by side ever since we came to Ballyronan. Doesn’t seem natural somehow that they’re parting. Such a shame. Such a shame she couldn’t go. He’d settle much better with her up there you know. And she’d be a damn sight happier too, I fancy. I really don’t know. Maybe I should have spoken to her parents. James told me not to, you know. Didn’t think it was my place. Still. They shouldn’t be holding her back like that. We all have our misfortune. This is her hour. Her season. This is when Sinéad should come into her own. Dublin is the place for her. Art college is the place for her.
He looked at me then like he didn’t recognise me for a second.
—Isn’t that right Charlie?
—Yeah.
—Yes indeed. I go on Charlie. I do go on you know. Don’t mind me.
I didn’t mind him. He looked at all the people around. From head to head to head like he was looking for someone.
—Youth. Christ youth is important though isn’t it? All we have is our youth. All we’ve ever lived for. Let them live damn it all. Let them live. That’s what I say. What do you think Charlie?
—Yeah.
—He’ll not get a seat on that train you know at this stage. I suppose he doesn’t care. He’d stand for seven days for another minute with her I fancy, let alone the few hours’ train journey. And who’d blame him Charlie. Am I right? Hmmm?
—Yeah.
—Still. They’ve five minutes. He’ll have to go underneath the track in the tunnel to the other side to get on that train. He’ll have to get a move on. Charlie would you ever go over to them and tell them it’s five to six. Like a good fellow.
—Yeah.
There was a train on the near track as well as the one on the other side so we couldn’t see him to wave goodbye as the train pulled off. Sinéad puckered up a little on the way home. James’ father spoke nice words to her. Made her cry a little but made her feel better at the same time.
—Sinéad you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. And he’s the best thing to ever happen to you too I fancy. You’ll be together soon. I’ll bring you to the train station next Friday. You can go up to him for the weekend. Don’t worry. Hundred years ago he could be emigrating to America. Or going to war. You’ll be fine.
He dropped Sinéad home first. Then me.
About two hours later I was up in my room when I heard gravel hitting off my window. James it was.
—I forgot to get on the train! Bleddy thing went off without me.
—Ha?
—Ha yourself. I wanna spend another night with Sinéad. We need it.
—OK.
—Will you mind my bag? I’ll collect it in the morning.
He threw it up and I caught it.
—Cool. I’ll be over for it in the morning. Think I’m mad?
—No.
—Do you think your mother would miss a few roses from her rose bush?
—Probably. But she wouldn’t mind if she knew where they were going. Where ye gonna stay?
—Dunno yet. Somewhere nice hopefully.
—Don’t get seen.
—I won’t. See ya.
—Bye.
Early in the morning same thing again. Gravel at my window. Looked out the dreary window at the dreary morning and I saw the smiling faces of Sinéad and James looking up at me. Two candles in the dark.
—G’morning Charlie.
—Gimme the bag and come on. We’re getting the seven o’clock bus to the train station.
I threw on my clothes, went for a pee and went straight out the window to them. We’d the bus all to ourselves. We were down the back seat. James was leaning on the window at one side with Sinéad between his legs. I was leaning on the other side facing Sinéad and James.
—You’ll mind Sinéad for me Charlie won’t ya?
—Yeah.
—Do you swear?
—Yeah.
—Thanks Charlie, but we both know ’tis James needs looking after.
When he was gone Sinéad cried again for a bit. We had a wait up in Cork for a bit then before the next bus. She told me about a swimming final I never knew about. Sinéad was way out in front but tried so hard that she forgot to breathe and a few strokes before the finish line she panicked and nearly drowned. She lost the race. How she tried so hard and couldn’t believe she was winning and was going to get a gold medal, a gold medal around her neck, and bring it home to show it to her mammy and daddy who couldn’t go to the competition and that she’d be so special and loved when she won this and it would make everyone proud and when she knew she was winning she tried even harder harder harder so that she’d definitely win and next thing near the very end of the race she left it too long to breathe and panicked and then inhaled some water and was flailing around in the pool for air while all the rest passed her out and she came last instead of first. She was nine years old and she cried and she cried. Anyhow. People do be failing isn’t it? We walked back to Merchant’s Quay from the train station. We sat on the benches overlooking the dirty mossy green River Lee.
How oft do my thoughts in their fancy take flight
To the home of my childhood away
To the days when each patriot’s vision seemed bright
Ere I dreamed that those joys should decay
When my heart was as light as the wild winds that blow
Down the Mardyke through each elm tree
Where I sported and played ’neath the green leafy shade
On the Banks of my own lovely Lee
Ballyronan is in County Cork. Each county in Ireland has its own song. The Cork one is ‘The Banks of My Own Lovely Lee’. When the county team wins a big match everyone gets drunk and sings their county song. And other songs as well. We’ve a million songs. Most of them are about fighting off the English. Except the Dublin song, ‘Molly Malone’. That’s about a prostitute. They’d a red-light district in Dublin before red lights.
Dunno what the song of County Leitrim or County Louth is cos they’re shit at football. Maybe they’re good at chess or draughts or something and get drunk and sing their song after a big chess match. Or maybe they’re just shit at everything. Never heard of no one from Leitrim or Louth. I suppose they just don’t give a fuck. I’d say Leitrim was the easiest county of them all to get back off the English cos they were probably sorry to be stuck with it in the first place.
Anyhow. Sinéad told me stuff. She told me stuff she didn’t even tell James. Stuff I never told nobody cos she asked me not to. About when she was only small long ago.
But she calmed down anyhow watching the Lee like she learned something from the river just by looking at it. Cos the river didn’t give a fuck, far as we could see. The last little cry she had I didn’t know if it was for James gone away or for the troubled little girl she was long ago who inhaled some of a swimming pool instead of the air above it.
—You’d never let me down Charlie would you?
—No, I said. I would never do that, no.
We went upstairs in Merchant’s Quay shopping centre and had some coffee and scones in the café up there. She went up to the till and paid before we even got the second cup off the girl. Felt strange. I always had money cos I’d be doing jobs. But now she had money too. I kinda didn’t like it. Thought of her being a woman with a handbag. Saw her mother in her for the first time in my life. Wasn’t the Sinéad my dreams were made of and I hoped it wasn’t becoming hers. We sat across from each other over at the window. I was looking south down along Patrick Street, she was looking north across the river. Up over the hill of the northside where the sky was clear and blue and stretched up towards Dublin and beyond. James’ sky now isn’t it?
—You’d never lie to me Charlie would you?
—No, I said.
—Do you think he’ll forget about me?
—What do you mean?
—Do you think he could find someone else?
—No.
She bit her nails and stared at the few bubbles still whirling slowly in her coffee.
—Sometimes . . . it’s like. I dunno.
—He’d never, I said. He’d never.
—Ah no, I don’t . . . think like. It’s just . . .
—Yeah.
We spoke about what it would be like in Dublin then, when she did get to join him. I said she could still go up before too long and just work somewhere until her course started again the following October. She said,
—Yeah . . . yeah.
But I was starting to see she was starting to doubt it would happen. The doubt was in her voice and in her eyes. I pressed on.
—Ye could get a gig in the Ruby Sessions.
—Yeah.
—Go to it some night first though. Meant to be like, intimate like.
—Yeah.
—And like in the college as well. Music like, there’ll be loads going on for ye.
But she wasn’t listening to me any more.
—Yeah, she said. Yeah.
—What time are you working tonight?
—Eight. Eight to close.
Her eyes welled. I wanted to say something good like James would but I just said,
—He’ll be up around Limerick Junction now I suppose, or even further up maybe.
—Yeah, she said.
—Have you done anything since on that song?
‘Faraway’ was the name of the song.
—No. I think it might be kinda crap, she said.
It was.
—Still. Some of your lyrics were nice, I said.
—Thanks. I think James kind of likes it.
—He likes them all when they’re new. Does be thinking too much about them. Keys and chord sequences. Only hears the melody when he’s the thing learned.
She laughed and said,
—Yeah that’s true. Gets all caught up in the mechanics of it.
She laughed again and said,
—He’s just afraid that he’ll forget it.
—Yeah I said. When he’s the keys worked out he has a map to go back to. Some trail back to the tune.
—Yeah. Could you forget a melody?
—No, I said. Could you?
—No. Not a good one anyway.
She laughed again and said,
—He wouldn’t have room in that head of his. My brain is a fat lump of a couch potato in comparison to his. Sometimes I think his mind is like a miracle. That it can do all the stuff it does like. Like sometimes I just can’t believe he can do all the ordinary stuff like dressing himself and being able to write when there’s so much other stuff going on like the football and the music and the studying and the plans for us and everything. He can do so much like, can’t he? He’s a miracle. Isn’t he though?
—Yeah, I said.
—Like . . . sometimes I wonder like . . . and I know I’m terrified of it like but . . . if he did lose interest in me and found someone else . . . I’d still be like . . . I’d be heartbroken but I’d still have to be happy with God just for having him in my life for the time I did.
—Sinéad.
—I know. He loves me, I know, I’m just saying, that’s all.
—Your gift is a million times rarer, I said.
She looked at me and there was a moment when our eyes met that had never happened before. Then she looked at me in some kind of disbelief. Hint of disgust even.
—I must go to the loo, she said, already on her way.
Things were a bit funny then for a while when she came back and I thought she was gonna ask to go away by herself.
—What I said was the truth, I said. Your gift is a million times rarer than his. Your voice. Your melodies. He knows that himself. I said I’d never let you down. I’d never let him down either, I said.
—I know, Jeez I know Charlie, she said as if I was making a mountain out of a blah.
