The Runners (10 page)

‘Are you all right?’

Jay mumbled something back. Bobby noticed vomit on the floor a few yards away. Jay had some on his T-shirt. Bobby could see the spoon that he had seen Willo using. It was black and had a needle lying beside it. There was also a roll of tin foil in the corner.

‘Jay, are you all right?’

He opened his eyes and they looked like they had been under the chlorinated water of Sean Mac for ages. They were as red as Bobby’s Liverpool shirt.

‘What have you done?’

‘Nothing,’ Jay mumbled in a barely audible tone.

‘Nothing? You’re like a corpse.’

Bobby put his hand on Jay’s arm. It was freezing.

‘Did you use a needle?’

‘They were laughing at me.’

‘About what?’

‘He said I would go to heaven and come back again.’

‘You’re back, you’re back. Wake up. Don’t close your eyes.’

‘He said I’d see my da.’

‘Your da is in prison.’

‘I saw him in the sky when I went to heaven.’

If that’s what drugs did to you, Bobby knew he would never be touching them. He couldn’t understand why Jay would go anywhere near Willo and Git. They were the losers that Bobby and Jay swore they would never become.
They
had dreams. Jay was a brilliant boxer, probably better than Bobby. He had more skill, but less determination. Anto said he would be a champion. Bobby was angry, sad and tearful but he knew he had to do something.

‘Is your ma at home?’

Jay started to nod off again.

‘Will I take you home?’

‘I want to stay here.’

Bobby knew he couldn’t leave him but he didn’t know if he could get Jay out the window.

‘I’m going to get you a can of Pepsi.’

Bobby was worried Willo might arrive back and do something to Jay. He sprinted like a million dollars depended on it. He got a Pepsi and was back in record time. Jay hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes were closed again.

Bobby had a technique to stop the can exploding after shaking. Half pull the lid up and let it bang off the top of the can. He did it seven times. The can opened without a drop spilling. He sat Jay up against the wall. He made him sip the can of Pepsi until every drop was gone.

‘You have to promise me you’ll never do that again.’

‘Where’s Willo?’

‘You need to get out of here before he gets back. Are you going to promise me?’

‘I feel weird, what do I look like?’

‘You look like a fucking eejit. You’re a spa for doing that.’

‘Don’t tell Anto.’

‘I won’t tell anyone.’

Jay couldn’t stand up straight when he eventually made it out of the window. He walked to his flat
hunched over like the flying-saucer lady. Bobby stayed with him until he was well enough for a shower. He helped him undress. He sat in the bath and Bobby held the shower head over him.

‘Is it hot enough?’

‘It’s nice.’

‘Will you promise me you will never go into the unknown house again?’

‘I promise.’

He kept the water as hot as Jay could take it. He kept feeling his arm to see if he was getting warmth back in his bones. It would make his life so much easier in the mornings if he had a shower. He wondered when he would stop wetting the bed. His mam told him he would grow out of it, but she had been saying that for years. He dried Jay and sat him on the edge of the bed.

‘I need to go asleep.’

‘Will I stay with you?’

‘No.’

‘I’m not leaving you on your own.’

‘Please, I’ll be grand.’

Bobby left Jay to sleep and kicked a ball against the wall of the pramsheds. It had graffiti all over it. The biggest letters spelt out H-BLOCK. He aimed for the H eleven times in a row, followed by the B, until he had kicked the ball sixty-six times against the wall. He had another sixty quid saved under
the carpet from Anto’s deliveries. He decided he was going to give it all to the parking fines man. He was sick of losing money in the bookies.

‘Sixty pounds!’

The fines man was surprised at the amount.

‘My dad won it on the horses.’

‘Another winning bet, sure he’ll have it paid off in no time.’

He hid the receipt with all the others. He totalled them up. Two hundred and fifty pounds.

Bobby knew Jay hadn’t knocked for him because he was embarrassed about what had happened in the unknown house. Two days seemed like an eternity. Two days of torture for Bobby. He wanted to call for Jay but couldn’t. He didn’t want to be chasing after him, and he wanted to avoid Anto. He had to go to boxing training if he wanted to fight in the All-Ireland, but he wanted Jay to call for him. He had kicked the ball off the H-Block about ten thousand times, hoping Jay would walk down Sackville Avenue and join him. He would pretend he was taking a penalty in the World Cup final. He tried to imagine what the pressure would be like. He never doubted he would score if the time came. He knew what nerves were like after everything he had been through. Jay overcame his nerves by thinking of something else. Bobby
would do the same when he got to the World Cup final. He would pretend he was in Ballybough. He would pretend there was an H in the left corner of the goal and he would blast the shot. The crowd would go mad, all cheering his name.

‘Bob-by. Bob-by.’

He could hear it was Jay cheering his name. All of a sudden, two hands appeared on the top of the wall. Bobby held the ball. The hands disappeared. Then Jay’s big smiling head appeared over the top. He pulled himself up and sat on the wall, dangling his legs on the H and the B. Bobby kicked the ball at him and ran over and grabbed his leg, pretending to pull him down. Instead, he climbed up his leg onto the wall.

‘I’m sorry, and thanks for finding me,’ Jay said.

‘I told you I was faster than you.’

Bobby didn’t want to express the emotions he was really feeling because Jay would call him a spa. He was just happy he was back.

‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t found me.’

‘The rats would have got you and eaten your toes, followed by your willy, if they could have found it.’

Jay pushed Bobby off the wall and jumped down himself.

‘Do you want to go up to the college?’

The two of them walked up the lanes to the college. They strolled past the open front gate, climbed up the electricity box and scaled the wall. They argued about how many times they had jumped off it. Bobby reckoned it was five hundred. Jay thought it was a thousand. They usually had a plan to rob an orchard, or make a raft, or climb a tree, or bonk into Tolka Park. They had no plan, so they just strolled, and chatted in a boyish way about what would happen if they lost each other. Bobby laughed about the time they became blood brothers, remembering when they had scraped their initials into their arms with a dirty blade they had found in the yard of the paper factory. Jay had jumped off the roof of the paper factory the same day. He had been afraid to do the dangerous ledge walk that was twenty feet above the river. So he had jumped off the roof, which was two storeys high. Bobby thought he was a lunatic for doing it.

‘Will we do my jump?’ asked Jay.

‘Are you mad?’

‘Come on, chicken.’

‘I’m not doing it; calling me a chicken won’t make a difference.’

‘Chicken, chicken, chicken.’

‘Saying it three times won’t make me do it either.’

‘Come on, I’ll jump first.’

‘OK.’

Bobby laughed, knowing that he would let Jay jump and then take the easy way down.

‘We have to do it together, then, because if I jump first, you will bottle it.’

Bobby hated it when Jay said he would bottle things. He never did. Just Jay saying it made him even more determined. And Jay knew it did.

They climbed up the back wall of the paper factory and ran across the roof. It wasn’t a flat roof. It had two triangles. Up, down, up, down and they were at the edge of a jump that only Jay had ever done. He said it didn’t hurt, but Bobby slagged him about walking funny for two weeks afterwards.

‘Hold hands and we’ll jump together,’ said Jay.

‘I’m not holding your hand.’

‘Come on!’

‘OK, on the count of three.’

‘On three, or after three?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is it one, two, three, go? Or is it one, two, three jump? Do we jump on go, or do we jump on three?’

‘What are you talking about? You say, one, two, three and when you say three, we’ll jump.’

‘On three or after three?’

‘One, two, threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.’

They landed with a loud thump, stumbling out onto the road. They stood up and looked at each other.

‘Are your feet stinging?’

‘No, are yours?’

‘No.’

They both knew the other was lying. They burst out laughing.

‘Do you still think we’re different?’ asked Bobby.

‘When did I say that?’

‘You said I was a poshie.’

‘I was only joking with you.’

‘I’m not a poshie.’

‘I know. Isn’t your da in the Sunset every day?’

‘So, we are the same?’

‘You’re my best friend in the whole world.’

Bobby always wanted Jay to say that to him. He was envious of Jay living in the flats. He had a real claim on being a Ballybough boy. Bobby pretended he was from the flats.

‘I lied to you about something.’

Bobby immediately got the worried feeling again. He wanted everything to be the way it was before they ever delivered a video for Anto.

‘You had your secret about wetting the bed.’

‘What’s your secret?’

‘My da isn’t in prison.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Glasnevin.’

‘He lives in Glasnevin? That’s only up the road.’

‘He’s buried in Glasnevin, you dope.’

Bobby didn’t know what to say. It was a strange secret to have.

‘He’s dead, Bobby.’

‘Why did you say he was in prison?’

‘I don’t know.’

Bobby was afraid to ask how he had died. Jay didn’t tell him.

‘Anto asked us to knock down before boxing.’

Bobby didn’t want to mention Anto’s name. He was hoping the deliveries would stop.

‘I’ll knock for you after my dinner,’ he said reluctantly.

‘Where have you been for the past two days?’ asked Anto. ‘Jay has had to do deliveries on his own. I want the two of you doing it together.’

Jay had failed to mention doing deliveries on his own.

‘Take this up to Micka. He’ll be at the pool in fifteen minutes.’

‘We could jog it in five. Well I could, I don’t know about Jay.’

‘Don’t be hanging around there too long. He’ll be there at seven on the button.’

‘How many deliveries did you do on your own?’

‘Twenty in two days. I think that’s a hundred quid.’

‘You’re getting good at maths. There’s no way you did twenty deliveries.’

‘Ah, no, it was just one to Micka and one to Johnny.’

Bobby got a knot in his stomach. Jay had lost the race and he was still delivering.

‘You lost the race.’

‘What could I say to Anto?’

‘Did you go back to the unknown house?’

‘No.’

‘You’re a liar.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know by the look on your face. Am I going to find you on the floor again?’

‘No. Let’s go.’

Jay sprinted off. Bobby tucked in behind him and watched the video in Jay’s left hand. He could see that Jay’s knuckles were white he was gripping it so hard. It was like a relay baton in his hand. He could feel Jay slowing down as they passed the Sunset. He came up alongside him and then jogged two yards past. He wanted to turn around and do what Eamonn Coghlan had done in 1983. He couldn’t do it, though. He slowed to Jay’s pace. Bobby could hear him breathing harder than he normally would.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Just not as fit as you.’

‘Let’s walk together the rest of the way.’

The handover of the cassette was like a smooth relay change. Jay gave it to Micka. Not a word was exchanged.

Anto was already at the boxing club collecting subs from all the boxers when Jay and Bobby arrived. They still had to pay subs, but Anto didn’t fine them the five pence for being late. Bobby knew there was a vibe between himself and Jay, and he thought Anto could see it too. He could feel Anto staring at him. He felt his every movement was being watched.

‘The All-Ireland final is on next week. How are you feeling?’

‘Fine.’

‘Bobby, if there is ever anything worrying you, you know you can talk to me.’

‘OK.’

‘Is there anything worrying you?’

‘Like what?’

‘If I knew what, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?’

Anto stared at him for longer than normal. Bobby thought he had an intensity of a stare that could look into his brain.

‘I want you to fight Jay in sparring tonight. I want you to think it is the All-Ireland final. There will be hundreds of people there. Concentrate tonight on blocking out everything outside the ring. No taking it easy. I want you to punch him
harder than you have ever done before. Do you understand?’

Bobby nodded his head. He had never fought Jay like it was the All-Ireland final. Sparring was different to competition. You never went flat out in sparring, or threw your hardest punches. Especially at your best friend.

Bobby climbed into the ring. He looked across to see Anto putting Jay’s gumshield in. He slapped him on the side of the headguard and shouted one final instruction. He called them into the centre of the ring.

‘Touch gloves.’

They looked each other in the eye.

‘Good luck,’ offered Bobby.

‘You’re going to need it,’ laughed Jay, who was relishing the change in rules.

Bobby knew he’d better get serious. He stepped towards Jay with his hands close to his face. Jay swung a punch at Bobby’s ribs and winded him slightly. He tried to punch Bobby in the head, but he couldn’t get through his gloves. Bobby remembered Anto always telling him to relax.
Relax when running, relax when boxing. Your feet get lighter when you’re relaxed, enabling you to move faster
. He relaxed and could feel himself moving quicker. He threw a quick right-left combination that he had been practising in the mirror at home. The right punch hit Jay’s right glove. It moved it enough to give
Bobby a clear shot at the head. He rocked Jay with the left hook more than he had ever done before. He quickly pounced and hit Jay with a flurry of punches, knocking him to the canvas. Anto told him to block out the outside noises but he couldn’t. All the lads in the club were getting closer to the ring, shouting all sorts of encouragement for both of them. Anto told him if he could hear noises, he wasn’t in the zone. Jay ran at him after Anto wiped the top of his gloves on his shirt. He threw as many punches as he could. Bobby easily got out of the way. He felt like Jay’s punches were moving in slow motion. He saw a gap in Jay’s guard and landed a fierce right hand, flush on Jay’s nose. It rocked Jay back a few steps. Normally that meant an eight-second count, but Anto said ‘fight on’. A trickle of blood started to meander towards Jay’s lip. He tasted it with the tip of his tongue, and then started to feel angry. Bobby felt calm, surprisingly calm. He couldn’t hear any noises again. Jay ran at him, swinging wildly. Bobby moved sideways to avoid Jay’s punches, then, when he saw the moment to pounce, he nailed Jay again with a left hook. He followed it with a right and another left. Jay slipped back onto the canvas, landing on his bum.