At Swim, Two Boys - Jamie O'Neill [174]
Still Doyler went on. “With your badge on your cap and three stars on your sleeve”—his fingers flipped the peak of MacMurrough’s cap, they flicked at his sleeve. “Is it the spring fashions you was at?”
“Will you stop pushing, you damned fool. This has nothing to do with the Volunteers.”
“I’d say that’s true and all. Devil the chance of yourself volunteering, but your aunt pushed you. I pity any men you lead, MacMurrough. Your kind never failed at nothing yet, for you never stopped at nothing long enough to find out.”
“Will you shut up and listen?”
“I’ll listen when I’m good and ready.”
There was nothing for it but MacMurrough grabbed the boy’s wrist and twisted it. “This isn’t about me, you little toe-rag, it’s about Jim.”
“What about Jim?”
“Anthony?”
“I want you to go and see him.”
“What are you talking about?” He shrugged his arm free.
“He’s with the band. They were at the parade, now they’re visiting the pro-Cathedral. Go say hello.”
“Anthony?”
“What’s Jim to do with you?”
“Tell him you’ll be there at Easter. He’s worried frantic. Jim, do you understand?”
“Anthony? What is this?”
“Oh, Aunt Eva, not now.”
“What’s Jim been saying?”
“He hasn’t said anything.”
“Have you laid a hand on him?”
“You, boy. Shoo, now. Go away.”
“If you laid a hand on Jim, I’ll fucking murder you. I’ll crucify you, you hear me.”
“Stop this. Go away. Shoo.”
“Aunt Eva, leave the umbrella down.”
“You hear me, MacMurrough? I don’t know what I’ll bloody do, but you’ll wish you was never—”
“I shall fetch a constable and have you in charge.”
“You, lady, can fetch a fucking priest for I’m telling you now—”
But he did not tell, for MacMurrough caught him by the shoulders, pinning his arms with his elbows, and shook him against the railings. “You will not talk to my aunt that way.” He had his hand over the boy’s mouth and a knee poised in his groin. “Do you hear me? Good. Now listen. Your friend is with the band and they are visiting the pro-Cathedral. He was hoping to see you at the parade. Give up your letch with the flowers and frolics here and go say hello. It’s the least he deserves.”
MacMurrough lifted his hand from Doyler’s mouth. The mouth was in a fleery grin like a horse’s with the bit pulled. Doyler laughed. “You never had him, had you. Oh but you’re cursing to. Has you ate up. But you won’t never have him, MacMurrough. You’re nothing to Jim and you know that. Nothing at all while I’m there first.”
With no anger, with a feeling almost of its being foreordained, MacMurrough let his knee into the boy’s groin, while the boy spat at him full in the face before the pain gripped and his bend began, into the groin where often by the sea in the summer gone he had enjoyed to let his mouth and his tongue.
It was a dismal lunch. MacMurrough pecked at his food. Aunt Eva soldierly knifed and forked her way through, her face in grim Dickensian way, an index to her mind. At length she said, “I have been giving some thought to your problem with Turkish cigarettes. I have the address of a cigarist’s who I believe will have what you want. You might visit there this afternoon before you train to Ferns.”
“Aunt Eva, don’t let’s pretend. I’m sorry about what happened. I was foolish and inept.”
“Oh, that is what you were. You were foolish and you were inept. I see. I have a foolish and inept nephew. And in what way is my nephew inept? Why, he cannot contain himself half an hour without dragging his corner-boy minions before his aunt.”
“Of course you are right. It was much worse than inept.”
“I say nothing of the vulgarity,” she continued, “I believe that has spoken for itself. I say nothing of the exhibition: I have never cared for the general, nor ever will. But I had thought it was over. I had heartfully thought you had come to your senses.”
“But Aunt Eva, it’s not ever going to be over.