At Swim, Two Boys - Jamie O'Neill [181]
It wasn’t himself had thought any that up. Connolly’s teaching was that. Yet these days he heard no talk of a general strike. The talk was all of them joining with the Volunteers. That together they’d take over Dublin. It was mad talk, mad as their sham attacks on Dublin Castle. It made him spit to hear it, and his forehead to frown like a ploughed field.
He heard something, and turning quick, he saw that quilt of a boots had climbed all the way along the rooftops carrying two mugs of tea. He put away the notes he was writing. “Mary and Joseph,” he said, “I don’t know but you’re a resourceful fellow. How’d you get them mugs through that skylight?”
He managed it some way or other, he wasn’t sure now.
“Did you put back the skylight after you?”
He had. They were in the dip between two pitches of roof, quite out of sight except of any pigeons passing. Doyler took a sup from his tea. “Get a job here meself, I think. They don’t give you hardly nothing to do.”
The boots sat down. He wasn’t chatty so much as anxious to talk. He was from Lucan, he said, he didn’t know anyone in Dublin. He nodded to Doyler’s badge and said he had a brother was a buttonman and his uncle too. Good for them, Doyler told him. He supposed Doyler was wondering why had he left his employment in Kingstown. He didn’t like to say, but he’d tell Doyler if Doyler wanted to know. Did Doyler want to know?
Doyler couldn’t give a tuppenny curse either way, but he chucked his head and the boots said, “D’you remember the walker was in Lee’s that time?” Doyler recollected a walker all right. Well, the walker had got his cards. He was away in England now. The boots hadn’t liked the walker anyhow. Only . . . Only . . .
“Only what?” asked Doyler.
“We was found out.”
“Found out about what sure?”
“Found out together like, me and him.”
Doyler felt his lip was curling. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want to be hearing any more of this. But the boy was telling away, his eyes on Doyler’s cup, only looking him in the face if Doyler brought his cup to his lips. There was a drip forming out of his nose.
“They had the polis called and they bate me up a bit. The walker had it worse. But anyway they sent to the parish priest at home. I can’t go back there now. I didn’t dare go back to me lodgings even. I came into Dublin but I didn’t know anyone here. I was a couple nights walking round. I was dreading the polis’d stop me and they’d find out then from the polis in Kingstown. Then I met a fellow in the Green, down where I met you, and he got me this position I have now. I was lucky that way, without any references. Except I don’t think I like him either.”
“All this happened you?”
He looked briefly up. “That’s right.”
“Can’t you get out of this and find a decent job?”
“Doing what?”
“Anything at all, man. Carting even.”
“Don’t want to do carting.”
“You can’t stop here if that’s going on. Does he take a liberty with you, this man?”
“I only wanted to have a friend. That’s all.”
“You have to do something. What about your folks?”
“They won’t write me. I thought you might be a friend.”
“What if they catch you with this new fellow, what’ll you do then?”
“I don’t care about that. I just wanted to be with somebody I liked. Just to go for a walk even.”
“They give you time to go walking? Mary and Joseph, I don’t believe you do a tap of work.”
“What’s it matter to you what time I have?” he said coloring. “If I have it easy at work, what’s that to you?”
“Nothing,” said Doyler. “Nothing. You’re right. Every man should have leisure to go walking.”
“Well then.”
“Well then.” The boots was looking sulkily at his knees. The color was draining. “Are you scared now?” Doyler asked.
He looked up, an angashore of a face. “I am scared.” He sniffed. “I was happy to see you. I thought I might talk with