The Gamal (14 page)

Signs

Dinky was cornerback but he had a long kick so he used to take the kick-outs instead of the goalkeeper. Then James used to be midfield. There are two midfielders in Gaelic football so for the kick-outs one would go on one side of the pitch and the other on the other side. Loads of times Master Coughlan had to insist that Dinky would kick the ball out to the side that James was on, at least some of the time, but preferably all the time cos James was one of the best young fielders of the ball in the county. If I was looking for signs at the time that was definitely one.

Remorse

N. 1. guilt; a strong feeling of guilt or regret 2. pity; compassion or pity [14th C. Via Old French
remors
from, ultimately, Latin
remordere
‘to torment’, from
mordere
‘to bite’.]

I feel remorse yes.

Ultimately. Ultimate.

Some words make you think of other stuff.

Ulterior

Adj. 1. underlying; existing in addition to or being other than what is apparent or assumed 2. lying outside; lying outside or beyond a point or area [From Latin, ‘further’, formed from assumed
ulter
‘beyond’.]

Ulcer

Watched a nature programme once. Monkeys getting ulcers and suffering from nervous disorders. When they feel left out by the rest of them or when all the other monkeys are mean to them. Monkeys can be fierce mean.

Ugly

Adj. 1.offensive or repulsive to the eye; disagreeable to look at 2. loathsome; vile especially
a.
morally offensive or repulsive; base
b.
very bad or disagreeable; offensive to the ear, nose, etc.; nasty 3. likely to cause trouble; threatening; dangerous 4. US (
informal
) given to or displaying violence, extreme irritability, etc.; very ill-natured [From Scandinavian (compare Old Icelandic
uggligr
dreadful <
uggr
fear).]

Same as Sinéad’s mother. It was more her treatment of people was ugly though.

Uilleann pipes

A type of Irish bagpipes played by squeezing the bellows under the arm [Early 20thC. From Irish
píob uilleann
‘elbow pipe’, from
uille
‘elbow’, from Old Irish
uilind
.]

Like the ones they played at the side of the grave. Everyone started crying. The uilleann piper played ‘Ar Éireann Ní Neosfainn Cé hÍ.’ Means ‘I’ll Never Reveal Who She Is’. Or ‘For Ireland I Won’t Tell You Who She Is.’ It’s some ancient Irish love song. And there’s an ancient Romanian song too with the exact same air. Travelled somehow. The tune of it would bring tears to a stone it would. Brought tears to everyone who wasn’t already crying at that funeral so it did. Except myself. I was after climbing up on the flat part of the roof of a house looking down at them all going about the business of the burial. Ritual. Rite. The difference between the bagpipes and the uilleann pipes is the difference between a shout and a cry. Anyhow everyone was crying except myself. I started vomiting. Nobody could see me cos I was off away from the crowd on my own. Then I think I passed out. Came round and they were in the middle of the Rosary. The Rosary is a prayer. Or more like a load of prayers repeated in some special order. The coffin was going down into the ground. Interred. In earth.

4

Words

It’s easy to say words and not mean them. Can’t fake the kind of singing Sinéad did. It’s either in you or it’s not isn’t it?

‘Blue Moon’ was one of their songs too. Whatever way they made the record it sounded like Elvis was right in the fucking room with you.

‘Blue Moon’

Walk to Newport

One time when we were in secondary school there was the walk to Newport for charity. A sponsored walk for Mother Teresa. There was a school from Newport and two schools from Mullinahone, St Brendan’s and the Tech. The Tech was a Christian Brothers school and that was all boys and the school from Newport was a convent and that was all girls. Our school, St Brendan’s was boys and girls.

The nuns in the convent wanted all the girls to be kept separate from the boys until the beginning of the walk so Sinéad and all the girls from our school had to go on a separate bus from us boys. When the buses and buses of girls descended on Ballyronan you could see that the organisers were starting to shit themselves. They had all us lads from St Brendan’s and the Tech inside the wall of the grotto, watching the more than four hundred young girls in hoisted school-skirts and perfume and make-up and fake tan and real tan and opened buttons and ties. The nuns had the girls all covered up as much as they could but it was pointless cos the hot sun and the girls had other ideas. They had the girls standing across the road from the grotto.

They weren’t one bit happy, them nuns. Would have struck us blind there and then if they could. A roar built up then all of a sudden, that stayed going for probably a whole minute. Hundreds of teenage boys and girls just screaming. Eventually they shut us all up so we could hear our principal speaking on the megaphone. He congratulated us all for all the money we raised and invited the first years to start walking together. Then second years, then third years and then us. Fifth and sixth years behind us then.

They had nuns and Brothers and old fusspot parents along the whole nine miles every hundred yards to stop any boys and girls going away into the countryside for a shift. A shift is a kiss.

Something gave the air a kind of an electricity that day. Youth. Sun. Dunno. Probably it was the best day of my life.

After a few miles we were coming up towards Pontoon Castle. Pontoon Castle stands on the wooded valley of the river Crandon between Ballyronan and Newport.

—We have to escape, said James.

—Yeah, said Sinéad, it’ll be raining tomorrow.

—We need a distraction, said James.

—Yeah said Dinky, someone to get shot or something.

We walked on. People and parents and concerned citizens and volunteers and whoever else walked along with us in pairs. Pair of these fifty-year-olds walking along with us every fifty yards about. A yard for every year. A fly landed on Sinéad’s forehead and she made a fierce nice and funny face and she brushed it away from her fierce quick and shook her head a little bit. Next thing at that very exact moment something miraculous happened.

—What’s going on above?

—What the fuck?

Two fifty-year-olds did a fat-ass run to where the crowd was gathering up ahead of us. Girls were screaming. James ran ahead and Dinky followed and I followed then.

—Antoinette O’Riordan is after fainting.

—Is she all right?

—She’s fine.

Antoinette O’Riordan was the whole time fainting the poor thing. Fainted before exams. Fainted during them. Fainted after them. Fainted in Mass. They were all helping her to her feet when James grabbed me and Sinéad by the arm and said to come on. He went first, helping Sinéad over, and I hopped over beside them, landing on Dinky who was after hopping over it already with Racey.

—Fuck ya Charlie, Dinky goes and they all giggling mad.

Biggest fear was standing on branches cos the crackling would be heard by whoever was on the road above us. We crouched and stayed silent while the fifth and sixth years passed. The sparkling river way down in front of us. Tempting us through the trees.

James climbed up again and said the next group was a hundred yards back the road so if we ran to the far side of the castle we could run into the woods and down to the river. We went for it and we made it. We sat down then, leaving the grey stupid obedient road behind us. When the last of them were gone we got up to stretch our legs.

—We’re gonna be killed you know, Racey said.

—We won’t be killed, said Sinéad, I promise we won’t be killed. We’ll get in a world of trouble but they won’t kill us.

We laughed all nervous and giddy.

—Will there definitely be a roll call in Newport ye think? asked Dinky.

—Dunno. Maybe not, went James.

—Well that’s our only hope, Dinky said.

—What if we’re expelled? Racey asked then.

—We’ll be suspended but we won’t be expelled, said Sinéad. They’d never expel the lot of us.

We walked down the path through the woods down, over the wooden footbridge over the waterfall and then the river appeared like you were at the cinema and it was on the screen all bright in the dark. At the other side of the river there was a small dock and a big red rowing boat.

—Pity that boat is on the other side, said Dinky.

—Pity we’re on this side, James said.

James lay down on the soft grassy river bank and Sinéad lay at a right angle to him with her head on his belly looking up at the sky. Racey lay her head on Sinéad’s tummy then and Dinky lay his head on hers. This was them.

This was me.

They all watched the blue sky and spoke about what kind of trouble they thought we were going to get in and I skimmed stones and then they were planning how to get to Newport without being seen.

—We could go down to the village and hitch a lift to Cork and then hitch a lift to Newport on that road, James said. That way we might get there before roll call.

—How long does it take to walk nine miles?

—Quarter of an hour a mile so that’s about two hours. Be lucky to make it.

There was silence then for a long time.

—I wonder is that river deep?

—Don’t be getting any crazy ideas James, Sinéad said.

—Seriously though.

—Stop.

—What do you think Charlie?

—I dunno, I said. Maybe.

—What ya reckon? he asked Dinky.

—Deeper than a spit, said Dinky.

—I must go for a wee, said James.

He went off down the river a bit and into the woods. He was gone a while and next thing we heard a bit of a splash and there’s James wading through the water in his boxer shorts.

—James, said Sinéad. Come out of it.

—Aaagh, said James, it’s freezing.

—Please come out James, she said.

—I’ve seen fishermen out here when the river’s a lot rougher, he called back.

—Please come out James.

—I will in a minute, he said.

He looked back at us and gave us a big mad grin.

—Jesus Christ James, Sinéad said.

We were all laughing nervously as he went deeper and deeper. Next thing Dinky stands up and starts stripping off too.

—What are you doing? said Racey.

—I’m goin’ in too.

Dinky stripped to his jocks and waded in too.

—Oh, he said. Tá mo liathróidí fuair.