Ghosts and Lightning by Trevor Byrne

Author:Trevor Byrne [Byrne, Trevor]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-385-53163-4
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2009-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

THE MAN COMES AROUND

Took me two days o shiverin and pukin and starin at the telly to get over that fuckin party. Watched a load o old wrestlin videos; the nineties was the best for wrestlin. Paula’s worse than me; she’s barely set foot out of her room. She just appears at the top o the stairs sometimes and shouts down to me for a cup o tea. I had a shower this mornin, shaved and that, and ran the car down to the shops. Don’t think I’ll be botherin with pills for a while.

I pull the last bag o shoppin out o the boot and slam down the door and that’s when I notice the two gyppos in the glass behind me. Two gypsies on a horse and cart, one old and one young, the cart’s wheels cuttin through the grey, slushy remains o the snow. The older gypsy’s broad and redhaired and the younger one’s lean and grinnin, me own age or younger and he’s wearin a titanic pair o workmen’s boots with the leather tongues flopped out like a couple o Beagle’s ears. They stop the cart a few feet from the car. The young one winks at me.

—You Denny Cullen?

I look round, the estate emptied by the cold, then back at the gypsies. —Yeah, I say.

There’s a huge grin on the younger fella’s face. He rubs his palms on his jeans and sniffs. —I know yer brother Gino well, he says. —He’s great pals with me brother Paddy.

—Gino doesn’t –

—I know. He’s up in Ballyer now. I don’t want Gino.

I set the shoppin bags down at me ankles and place me hands flat behind me on the bonnet o the car. —Can I do somethin for yiz?

—I dunno, Denny. Maybe yeh can. Yer mates with that Gillespie fella aren’t yeh?

—Maggit?

—That’s the one. The young guy looks at the older one, winks a huge wink. The older gypsy gives a little half smile and nods his head. —Him with the big ears and supposed to be on the IRA security council. Gerry Adams’s right-hand man I believe.

—Well, he’s not, but he probably did say that. He’s –

—Where would he be now, Denny?

I shrug. —Dunno, man. Haven’t seen him for a few days.

Haven’t seen him since the party, actually. All of a sudden I remember the girl, the girl in the Adidas tracksuit. Don’t really wanna remember her, though, cos it gives me this stupid sense o loss, even though I don’t know her and never will. It was nice, though — just that closeness. And then the thought hits me — yer on yer own, Denny, and yeh always will be. No surer thing. The certainty of it nearly knocks me off me feet.

—Yeh sure now, Denny? says the gypsy. —Not seen him at all?

—Yeah. I … look, I dunno what’s goin on but I haven’t seen Maggit in a while and I don’t know when I’m likely to. Is there some trouble or somethin?

The older fella picks his nose.

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