A Tiger in Eden (15 page)
It got so that every time I closed my aul peepers and concentrated on the circular breathing like yer man says to do I’d suddenly find myself somewhere in the past, it was weird so it was it was like I was there just watching the younger version of me. Good-looking cunt not as many tattoos or scars bit skinnier too sure I put the beef on once I started hitting the gym not to mention the Fenian punch bags we strung up like sides of meat. It was so realistic a couple of times I felt like putting my arm around his shoulders and pulling him aside to give him a wee bit of advice, fuck if only we could do that eh sure I’d go back and clip myself round the lugs and stop me from hurting people.
I seen things I’d buried and thought I’d never ‘member, they come up like fucking zombies climbing out of the grave. I’m talking times when I was a wee lad knocking about the Shankill estate playing football with the goals painted on the gable wall, there was no grass or nothing and there’d always be some cunt who would come along and take our ball some older lad and if ye gave him any aul lip he’d burst ye. That was how I got noticed by Big Jim and them sure I was a skinny wee fucker but I wouldn’t take no shit, I knocked the fuck out of this kid about five years older than me and about twice my size, he had me down on the ground and was whaling on me but it was just making me madder. I near bit his finger off, I don’t know where the strength came from but I knocked him off of me and stood up dead quick and stomped on his knees as hard as I could so he couldn’t get up and batter me no more.
My granda used to say, go for the knees Billy, it doesn’t matter how big they are kick any man in the knee and he’ll go down like a ton of bricks and then he’s yours for the taking. He’d fought in the war my granda hard as fuck like not like my da who just worked in the factory and kept his head down it was obvious who I took after. Granda had scars all over him like I do now from knives and bullets, he’d been shot five times by the Japanese in Burma but they couldn’t kill him.
When I was eight he told me about this time he was on patrol in the jungle and him and his mates ran into the enemy like walked right into them sort of thing everyone
had their rifles over their shoulders so it was hand-to-hand combat game on fucking wild so it was he said, one of the Japanese fellas had a fucking sword and was going all samurai chopping off arms and legs. Anyway he ran my granda through with it he was dead lucky though it went through his shoulder or something missed the vital organs granda fell back and the sword stuck in the ground on the other side of him. The Japanese fella was going to pull it out and finish him off but granda grabbed his arm he was dead strong so he was, he made him hold the sword in there ‘cos he had no other weapon and while he was leaning over trying to pull it out granda drew his knife out of his belt calm as you like and stuck it in the side of the cunt’s head, right in the brainpan he told me. Yer man couldn’t believe it, Granda said he breathed his last with a look of shock on his face like how could this pasty Irish cunt with ginger hair have defeated him a fucking big-shot samurai, just goes to show ye like.
Anyway it was about the time my granda died that I started going off the rails so to speak I was ten and it cut me up so it did sure I loved him, he had an aul budgie that used to fly around the room and perch on his head and sometimes it shit down his neck but he didn’t care. He told me all the war stories my da didn’t want to hear, about running round the jungle with the Ghurkhas, sure they didn’t even carry guns they were so tough just them big curved knives, they’d sneak up on the Japanese and slit their throats just for fun. He didn’t like authority neither but kept getting promoted
‘cos he survived battles and he didn’t want to be an aul officer so he’d punch some senior cunt in the gob and get busted back down to private.
Hearing the stories I just wanted to be there with him, my da was a different kettle of fish entirely a good man like just not interested in much, a bit boring to be honest. Suppose having a war hero for yer da wasn’t the best, Granda was probably tough on him but he thought I was the bee’s knees. The aul malaria used to come back on him in later years and sure all his pals had been killed or if they come back they were fucked up so he sat in his room drinking stout most of the time, I think he was just glad of my company.
Heart attack got him like so many, hard as fuck to the end though my granny said she found him doing push-ups in the lounge before he collapsed, died in the ambulance of course. Something about the way he died made an impression on me so it did, he must of known he was having a heart attack so what was he doing pushups for? To try and fight it off or to bring it on, either way how many 75-year-olds do you know that can do push-ups at the best of times never mind during a fucking heart attack. One tough aul bastard so he was.
Doing the meditation I could see now how I ended up under Big Jim’s influence sure I was just looking for someone to show me the way. My da should of stepped in but he was too busy aspiring to some sort of middleclass life out of the gutter. Fair enough you might say wanting something better for his weans than what his
own da gave him spending years off at the war and then all changed when he came back as a hardcore fucking killer but all the same what a load of aul pish, I mean catch yourself on there’s no room for middle class in Belfast there’s either poor as fuck or rich as fuck and the rest get preyed on by both. I know where I’d rather be at one end or the other, never in the middle no way.
Aye so it was all starting to become clear in my head what had happened and what a stupid cunt I’d been only of course I was young and impressionable so there’s not much I could of done about it. Big Jim had me and some other kids Johnny Robinson and them ones running about doing wee jobs for him, not much at first just delivering packages and messages. I done a good job sure I was dead sneaky and if any peelers pulled me up I’d say nothing only go fuck yourselves get your hands off me you bunch of cunts.
Fucking talk about misplaced loyalty I didn’t know what I was doing sure I’d of done anything Big Jim asked and did too. He had me climb a lamppost one time and run chicken wire across the street then when the army come round patrolling and some young soldier was sticking out the top of the Saracen he’d not see the wire and get decapitated. I ‘member watching it and saying holy fuck did you see that to the other lads, blood was spurting out the neck and the arms was flailing about the head rolled down the back of the tank and onto the road then we darted out and kicked it around like a football before running off. I can’t even imagine why we were doing that
sure the Brits were supposed to be on our side but Big Jim didn’t give a fuck it was just like a test thing to see if we’d do it and sure even if we got caught what could they say who done it who cut that poor bastard’s head off, a bunch of kids?
I hadn’t thought about that day in years but when I was sitting in the temple it flashed before me like I was there standing right beside Big Jim as he watched us run out into the diesel fumes of the armoured vehicle to kick some nineteen-year-old’s severed head, a wee sly grin on his face as he took a drag on his cigarette. Can you imagine being in that tank when your pal’s body falls down in beside ye with no head on it squirting blood all over ye? I mean fuck me. Fuck me.
Like yer man said after a couple of days the numbers started to dwindle, people going mad I suppose with whatever was in their head and not being able to talk about it or just not sleeping on the aul wooden boards or used to getting their dinner at night and not liking being hungry sure it was no picnic but what the fuck did they expect, Euro Disney? Bunch of soft cocks I reckoned sure how many of them would of had stuff like mine to deal with, round about zero like no messing, I hope so anyway.
Apart from doing the yoga all the time to give myself wee goals like seeing if I could bend over backwards and do yon bridge manoeuvre the other thing keeping me from going off my rocker was looking at the women. There was no bikini action or nothing sure that wasn’t
allowed so you had to use your imagination. The more I looked though the more I realised I’d been beholden to the fanny for a long time it was like my church or something sure I kneeled down and worshipped at it my own wee triangular deity like kissing the lips of God so it was.
Still you can’t just be thinking about that all the time you have to move on and work things out for yourself never mind about jumping from one bed to the next it’s distracting so it is I mean it’s brilliant and everything too, I always thought there was no better way to spend your time as a human being than fucking but the problem was I was just using it as a way to distract myself and forget who I was and that’s not healthy like. The aul shagging should just be part of your life not the be-all end-all not the whole point of your existence, I mean you shouldn’t be wandering around just thinking who am I going to stick my knob in next aye her over there she’ll do right very good that was brilliant love now who’s next. It’s madness living like that so it is sure there’s no end to it the ultimate loneliness is not when you’re fucking no one at all sure it’s when you’re trying to fuck everyone.
Hard habit to break though when you’re totally addicted but I was thinking maybe I should just try admiring women and learning from them like with Tanya rather than just imagining them in the buff with their arse in the air though fuck me that’s a tricky image to shake, not entirely unpleasant you know what I mean like. Anyway the aul meditation was clearing my head a wee bit on these matters and so I was trying to put
the aul rampant sex stuff to the back of my mind and not let it dominate me focus on myself and working out who the fuck I was for a change instead, it was a bit of a relief actually, like lifting a breeze block off of your shoulders something was changing inside me sure I could tell that even though I wasn’t sure what the fuck it was, maybe not good. I didn’t know nothing else to do but ride it out and see where I ended up after the ten days quite interesting really better than just being the same boring cunt your whole life, right?
It was good just looking at the women after that and appreciating them as something beautiful, a wee nape of the neck here a crooked smile there hair like smoke blowing in the wind I’m no poet or nothing I don’t have the words or the sense to be able to describe what I was seeing but you know there’s something humbling about being in the presence of beauty and not just wanting to debase it, this was a new thing for me. For the first time in my life I had this weird feeling down in my gut when I looked at people sort of warm and I hesitate to say this but kinda happy like being on a pill or something only not wanting to dance to Paul Oakenfold.
It was like I felt love for my fellow man sort of thing, fuck me that sounds dead embarrassing just as well I couldn’t say nothing though you could tell from the way some of the others carried themselves that they were feeling it too. My neighbour the aul fella sure I could tell he was dying to give me a hug.
The worst was this redhead. Fuck me she was just
about the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen on the planet like she was from somewhere else I don’t know people say angels but that’s dead cheesy so it is and I don’t believe in all that shite anyway but I could see why people say it ‘cos there’s no words in our language to describe someone like that when you see them. Apart from the long straight red hair her skin was pale but covered in freckles I suppose she had to watch out for the sun, she always wore this loose white blouse thing and a pair of fisherman pants, your classic spiritual backpacker sort of get-up.
I’d seen her wandering around looking at the plants and bugs like I done except the smile on her face could of ended wars. I gave her a wide berth ‘cos I didn’t want to be fixating on her or freaking her out or nothing but it was hard not to keep glancing over at her in the temple. It was a good aul test of my resolve not to think about fanny all the time, every time I started undressing her in my mind I threw a bucket of freezing-cold water over myself mentally like and concentrated on something else like an ant walking on the ground or something.
When I first started noticing her because she was a ginger my first thought was fuck no she must be Irish sure that’s all I need but the more I looked I couldn’t believe she was one of ours sure they don’t make them like that back home or if they do it’s not long until they’ve got an aul pinched face from squinting against the rain and the bullshit. Hers was all soft and open and wideeyed obviously not from back home but I couldn’t figure out where the fuck she was from, it was good fun
wondering though in the end I decided it must be some planet orbiting a sun far from our wee candle and she was just visiting us primitive humans for a laugh or to write an article for the
Proxima Centauri Guardian
about what dickheads we were.
It was funny being dead quiet all the time and only hearing the sounds of birds and the monks and the aul donging bells. I was glad I’d picked the chore I did, in the end it was about day four when I had to read something out from the Tripitaka. The tough monk with the monkey scars gave me a bit of paper with the words on it that I had to read the day before so’s I could go through it and make sure I didn’t fuck it up or nothing.
