At Swim, Two Boys - Jamie O'Neill [238]
“Ye can stow that, Southside.”
“Who’s the ball?”
“This one’s with me.”
“Lord have mercy on our souls.”
“Stow that and all.”
Over and over the sergeant told Jim what he was to do. He wasn’t to move till the word was gave. Then he’d crawl out behind the sergeant. He was to follow the sergeant exactly what he did. He’d keep his head down in the daisies. They’d get out of this safe, Jim would see.
Still that boy by the park gates. There were other bodies about, but his looked so very much apart. It seemed nearly wicked to be carrying on without him. Jim wondered what had he done to be lying there alone, for he had seemed a friendly chap. A goner, somebody had called him. Jim swallowed, finding a difficulty in the action. He brought his hand to feel about his throat. He had a scarf round his neck that he woke up in the night to find the sergeant had wrapped there. His shoulder was hurting a bit now.
Last night, when they had relieved him from the barricade at last, he had joined a group of men in the dark in the park. He’d thought they might be talking tactics or making bombs, and he was a little disappointed to find it was only the Rosary they were at. But he took out his beads and knelt beside. This sergeant shook his head at him, but presently he gave Jim the calling of a gaudious mystery. After, when they took their places in the trenches, he bade Jim stay near. Commandant Mallin made a tour of the posts and he told them the news, how the country was up. Cork was taken, Limerick was taken, the West was awake and marching for Dublin, the boys of Wexford were on the march once more. They had only to hold out till help came. And Jim had thought while he lay in his trench and the moon only risen and clouding over, had thought of Doyler and MacEmm in the big house together. Boy, they was in for some waking up.
Now all of a sudden a woman appeared on the sward before him. She took her aim—it was hard to say, a giant pistol or a miniature rifle—calmly stood there and took her aim. She fired. A machine gun was silenced, actually silenced. She returned, waving her arms, directing the withdrawal. She saw Jim gulping. “Can’t have the rotters have all the running,” she said.
Oh boy, my gracious, good grief—they better come soon, Doyler and MacEmm. There wouldn’t be nothing left them to do.
Blackrock, and the world awake. Knots of workmen gathered about the tram-stops, unwilling to walk but uncertain of holiday. The church doors were open, chapel as they still insisted in Ireland, and the hour drew its chain of pilgrims. Every passenger was pumped for his news, and that smidgen added to the general murmur. The soldiers, the rebels, the men of the north, the mountainy men, all of them up, marching all, the Prussians indeed on the Naas road.
It was disconcerting to be told such startling truths and never a hint of the teller’s opinion. They had as well been gabbling of Poland or Salonika, such little consequence these rumors bore. The news itself was the marvel and the faces told the marvel of telling it.
Doyler went among the men, asking was anyone on strike, was any man of them here present called out on strike. He insisted on this point, and some of the men did look sheepish a touch, as though they believed they had ought to be on strike. But rumor soon had the better of that. Dundalk was known to be agitating. Galway was worse. Belfast for gospel was brung to a standstill. And did MacMurrough know three bishops had been shot dead in their miters?
Who was it was out, Doyler asked, was it the Volunteers were out in Dublin? Sinn Feiners, he was told. The Sinn Feiners hadn’t any arms, Doyler told them, did they mean the Volunteers? What the heck did it matter their name, weren’t they out anyway? Then a young chap said, My brother’s a Volunteer and he’s not out. So’s mine and me cousin, said another.
“Well, who is it out?” said Doyler. He was becoming angry, and MacMurrough too was sensible of a rising animus, a want to separate from all by-standers and fire his Webley at their hats. See how I shoot?