Surviving Michael (21 page)

‘Listen to me,’ I tell him again and I shake his hands aggressively until he looks into my eyes. ‘He feels awful about this as well, but that doesn’t matter right now. Look, he doesn’t even want his name on the birth certificate.’

He looks away from me. He’s breathing heavily and tries to pull his hands away again but with less effort this time.

‘I don’t know,’ he says softly.

‘Please,’ I beg. ‘We can do this.’

His eyes fall down to my stomach as the door of the canteen opens abruptly.

‘Sorry to disturb, lads,’ Ricky calls out. ‘Ruby, I’ve to go down and change the Guinness keg, okay?’

Danny has already let go of my hands and is hiding his face from him. His body stiffens again, and he doesn’t move.

‘Alright,’ I say, quickly wiping my eyes. ‘I’m coming now.’

As the door closes, I reach out my hand for Danny, but he’s turned away.

‘Danny, please.’

‘No,’ he says without looking at me and walks toward the door.

‘Danny?’ I call out to him again.

He stops but doesn’t turn around to face me.

‘Can I have a hug please?’

He turns his head and looks back at me.

‘I could do with a hug,’ I say again. ‘Please?’

But he says nothing and does nothing, and I’m left standing alone in the cold white light, and I don’t drop my arms until the door closes behind him.

I RIP OFF a blank corner from a Sunday newspaper that someone has left on the table, and Charlie hands me a pen.

‘Right, here’s what we have so far,’ I say, and I call them out as I write. ‘One, run naked up and down O’Connell Street. Two, steal a double decker bus and pick up passengers. Three, dress up as a transvestite and walk around town. Four, pretend to be a busker for an hour on Grafton Street. And five, spend a night as a homeless person.’

Nick doesn’t look too impressed with any of them. Too fuckin’ bad.

‘But I still think,’ I say, ‘that we should do the penguin one.’

‘I’m not stealin’ a penguin, Liam,’ Nick says.

‘What’s he supposed to do with it when we get it,’ Charlie asks.

‘Keep it in his bath,’ I tell him.

‘I’m not keeping a fucking penguin in my bath,’ Nick says.

‘It could be like a pet,’ I suggest, but he’s not listenin’.

Danny comes back to the table.

‘Anyway,’ Charlie says, ‘it’s up to us to pick your dare. Not you, Nick, and I’m leaning towards the double decker bus idea.’

‘I have another one that I’ve been thinkin’ about,’ I say.

‘Go on,’ Nick says.

‘But it’d have to be somethin’ that we all agree with.’

‘Sounds deadly,’ Charlie says, and they all lean forward.

‘I was in the canteen at work, and I overheard these two drivers talkin’. They’ve been in An Post for a while, but I wouldn’t know them that well. Anyway, they were complainin’ that they were waitin’ over ten minutes for the cops to get their coffee. Said it’s the same every Monday.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Nick asks, ‘what fuckin’ cops?’

‘Look,’ I say, ‘this is how it works. Every Monday and Thursday, about ten An Post vans park alongside the GPO. For every An Post van there’s an unmarked Garda car with two detectives in it. A metal shutter door opens at the side of the GPO, and one of the vans reverses into it. They pull the shutters down and then fill the van with bags of cash. And when I say bags of cash, I mean bags of cash.

‘Me mate, Joe, does it sometimes as overtime. He says there are wads of bills inside the bags. The bags are made of cloth, and you can feel them in your hands. Some of the bags have coins in them and you can hardly even lift those ones.

‘When the van is full, an An Post driver and a postman get in and the shutters open. There’s enough money in it for about four or five post offices around Dublin. All the social security payments, mickey money, dole money, the usual shite they pay out. There has to be hundreds of thousands in the van.

‘Anyway, when the van comes out, it just drives off, and an unmarked cop car follows them, you know, like an escort, and they go from post office to post office giving out the money. They don’t tear around the place breakin’ lights or anythin’. You wouldn’t even know the van had any cash in it. It’s all done very low key.

‘When they get to each of the post offices, the postman in the passenger seat gets out and brings the money in, whatever bags they’re supposed to get, and the driver and the guards wait outside.’

Nick and Charlie look at each other like I’ve just been speakin’ a foreign language.

‘And?’ Nick says.

‘Well,’ I continue in a low whisper, ‘a lot of the time, well, most of the time, the cops get caught in the mornin’ traffic or at lights, and the postmen are always complainin’ that they have to wait for them.’

‘And?’ Charlie says this time.

‘There’s literally hundreds of thousands in the back of them vans. Bags of cash. And no security. Well, that’s if you don’t count the two postmen who are only doing a few hours overtime and couldn’t give a fuck anyways.’

Charlie looks at Nick. ‘Is he saying what I think he’s saying?’

‘All I’m sayin’ is, it’d be so easy. These two drivers were bitchin’ that in the Limekiln post office every Monday, they have to wait over ten minutes ‘cause the cops always stop to get coffee in Walkinstown.’

‘And by any chance,’ Charlie asks me, ‘when the two cops do turn up with their cappuccinos, would they have, em... what do you call them things? Oh, yeah… guns?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say, ‘they’re detectives, so yeah. I think they have Uzis, don’t they?’

‘Uzis?’ Charlie yells at me.

‘Shhh,’ I tell him.

Nick leans back into his chair. ‘Hold on,’ he says, ‘is this supposed to be my dare?’

‘Well, I was thinkin’,’ I say, ‘we could do it collectively. As a group, so to speak. I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while. There’d be enough cash for all of us to do anythin’ or go anywhere we wanted.’

‘I think he’s lost the plot,’ Charlie says to Nick.

‘I think we’ll all lose the plot if we don’t get some sleep,’ Nick says.

‘Danny, what do you think?’ I ask him, but the bollocks is just starin’ over at the bar. Wastin’ me bleedin’ breath on him.

WE SPEND SO much time worrying about bullshit that never happens, but it’s always, inevitably, those unimagined and unimaginable sidewinders that come out of nowhere and catch you off guard and knock you for six.

‘Danny, we’re heading off,’ I say to him.

He half turns to me, ‘what?’

‘We’re splitting. Are you right?’

‘In a minute,’ he says, and his eyes turn their attention back to Ricky, who is standing beside Ruby drying a glass with a towel. He says something to her and puts the glass down. Opening a small cupboard, he reaches up and takes down what looks like a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A customer walks up to the other end of the bar, and Ruby walks down to serve him. Ricky lifts the service hatch and walks towards the back. Danny’s head looks from Ruby to Ricky, as Ricky opens the emergency exit and goes outside.

‘Hold on,’ Danny says, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

He gets up and marches off to the back, opens the door and is gone.

‘Shit,’ I tell the others, ‘we’d better go after him.’

‘Why, where’s he gone?’ Liam asks as both Charlie and I get up and follow Danny.

The back of the pub looks like the back of any pub; empty kegs stacked up, cigarette butts on the ground, crates of empty bottles, black and green bins overflowing. To one side there’s a half built wall and the beginnings of what looks like a mini beer garden with various building materials and equipment abandoned on the ground.

Just beyond that, I hear raised voices, accusing and defending. I walk quickly in their direction. Ricky has both of his arms in the air, a full cigarette in his right hand. Danny is pushing him in the chest and yelling at him.

‘Admit it, you prick.’

‘It’s not me, Danny,’ Ricky pleads.

‘So, you know about it then?’

‘Yeah, she told me.’

‘Did she? She told me that she told the father before me.’

‘You’ve got it all wrong. I swear.’

‘Admit it.’

‘Mate, you’re losing it.’

‘I’m not your fucking mate.’

I run over to Danny and grab his arms.

‘Take it easy, Danny,’ I say. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

I hear the emergency door open and close and then Charlie grabs the other side of Danny. We try to pull Danny away, but his whole body is so tense that he feels stronger than Charlie and me.

‘Prick,’ Danny spits at Ricky, as we slowly drag him away.

Ricky is quite shaken, and I see his hand shaking as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

‘Come on, Danny,’ I say, ‘let’s go home.’

‘This isn’t the time,’ Charlie says.

Liam’s standing behind us but now turns and walks off as we approach. Danny’s body relaxes and he turns his back on Ricky. He’s standing on my left and I let go of his arm and slap him on the shoulder a couple of times to soothe him, or something to that effect. To Danny, however, it’s more like a slap you give to the rump of a horse to jolt it forwards.

Danny spins around between Charlie and me and bolts back to Ricky quicker than even Charlie or I could turn our heads. By the time we turn around, he had reached his target. Ricky’s facing in a different direction so he’s caught off guard as he’s shoved violently from the side. His legs take a couple of steps in an attempt to avoid the inevitable, but the momentum is too strong and his upper body begins to collapse to the ground. His legs quickly follow and I think that for a few moments his whole body is actually clear off the ground. It all happens so silently, a shove and then a thud; like a kid pushing a snowman over.

Charlie, Liam and I just stare at Danny as he walks back to us.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ he says, but we don’t move. We look at Ricky lying on top of the building rubble, his face to the stars. Danny walks past us, but when we don’t move, he turns back around. He looks over at Ricky.

Charlie is the first to step forward. He walks slowly over to Ricky cautiously, as if Ricky were about to jump up and hit him. He looks down at him for a few moments.

‘I think he’s unconscious,’ he says.

I walk over to him, and possibly encouraged by Charlie being there as well, I bend down. Gently, I touch Ricky’s chest as if I’d be electrocuted at any moment. I swallow hard and look at his face. I can feel the blood drain from my own face when I look into his eyes.

I turn my head and look over at Danny, who hasn’t moved from his spot. When he sees my face, he takes a step back. As I turn back to Ricky, his head flops to the side, giving me such a fright that I fall backwards onto my arse, grabbing Charlie by the arm and causing him to fall back as well.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ he says.

I stand back up, but can feel my legs go weak, and I start to gently shake.

I can only see the base of the nail in the piece of wood. I can’t tell how much has pierced into the back of his head but by the thickness of the part that I can see, there has to be at least three or four inches lodged into his skull.

I don’t hear Liam running to us, so I’m surprised when he grabs me.

‘Holy fuck,’ he shouts, ‘holy fuck. Holy fuck.’

Everything goes silent. I look at Liam and he’s shouting something at me, but I can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth. Charlie takes a few involuntary steps back, then twists around and vomits up two pints of Heineken onto his shoes. Liam is still screaming something as I look over at Danny.

He hasn’t moved but his expression is more frightening than Liam’s screaming or Charlie’s vomiting. A look that goes beyond despair. Beyond mere shock. A look with a primordial knowledge that everything has just changed and that from this moment, nothing will ever be the same.

I feel myself go dizzy and lightheaded, and then as quickly as the noise had stopped, it floods back to me, like someone has switched off the mute on a television set.

‘Holy fuck,’ Liam is still yelling. ‘Holy fuck.’

My senses come back to me like a slap in the face.

‘Shut up,’ I yell at Liam. ‘Shut up.’

I take deep breaths. Charlie, still half bent over, looks at me and then Danny. He stands up straight and faces me.

‘What are we going to do?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know,’ I almost whisper.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.’

Liam is staring down at Ricky’s body. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,’ he says.

‘What?’ I say. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Nobody saw us,’ he says looking up. ‘There’s no cameras here.’

‘And what,’ I say, ‘he just fell?’

‘Yeah, he fell,’ Charlie agrees, ‘he tripped and then he fell.’

‘Charlie, there’s no way...’

‘Happens every day, Nick. He tripped on that wood there and then… and then… he fell.’

‘What have I done?’ Danny says, standing beside us.

‘Danny, it’s okay,’ I tell him, ‘we’ll sort it out.’

‘Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. What have I done?’

‘How are we going to sort it, Nick?’ Charlie asks.

‘Give me the keys of the car,’ Liam says, but when Danny doesn't move, he reaches into his pocket and takes them. ‘I’ll get the car.’

‘Let’s get the fuck out of here, quick,’ Charlie says.

‘I don’t know, Charlie,’ I say, ‘I’m not sure about this.’

‘Oh, my God,’ Danny says and begins to cry.

‘Nick, help me,’ Charlie shouts at me, grabbing Danny by the arm.

‘Fuck,’ is all I can say, and I take Danny’s other arm and walk him towards his car as Liam reverses it down the back lane. We put him into the passenger seat.

‘Let me drive,’ I say to Liam, and he gets out and sits in the back with Charlie.

As I drive off, I glance in the mirror and I can still see Ricky’s body. The whole scene is flooded in red from the brake lights of the car. I put the car into first gear and take my foot off the brakes, and like flicking a switch, there’s darkness again and the crunching of gravel as the tyres turn slowly out of the lane.

I look into the darkness again as we drive off and I see a tiny red glow flicker for a moment and then go out. I realise that it’s the ember from Ricky’s cigarette burning out and going cold.