The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [105]
And
I
Won't.
24
It's said people of letters and fine conversation frequent this place and they call it a Palace. I'm keeping out of sight In my pocket is a ticket bought from the British & Irish Steam Packet Co., Ltd. Guarantees to get this flesh of mine to a civilized shore. At eight tonight Signed and sealed for delivery.
Sebastian lowered malt Walked out of this public house and moved swiftly under the portico of the Bank of Ireland. If this roof ever fell, boys, not even Skully could find me. Running across the street through the front gates of Trinity. Stopping at the notice board. Never know. May be a message from God. Peek into the porter's lodge. All of them in there smiling and rubbing hands round a nice cozy fire in the grate. Wearing nice black uniforms. Ready to give any little hope or help.
"Good morning, Mr. Dangerfield."
Boys, I give you me grin of guilt and paste it on the notice board because I won't be needing it soon. And good morning full of rashers and fresh eggs from the hot chicken rumps with coffee hopping on the hearth to the sound of the meaty sausages splitting sides in the ould thing of a pan. Good morning and how are you? Student's morning. Come follow me, students. Get the noses out from between the sheets of paper and get some of this air. You don't want this security, bad for digestion. You want something better than that Out under the trees. I am the piper. Beep beep. You up there in the garret with your arse white with sitting. Avast Ahoy and avast. Little right rudder. Left unfashionable. I see you all up there in your windows before dawn when you think there's no one looking, extending the piss stains down the walls. They say it has seasoned the rock. It's said the Junior Dean was hit on the head with a sackful of it wrapped in the Irish Standard. And don't think I've forgot when you invited me to tea and we sat round the winter fire friendly and full of cake.
Dangerfield was skipping, using the rotary step. Moving along the raised concrete at the side of the library. My passion purple, my pendant pink. Trinity covered by lovely soft rain and all its smooth carpets of grass, In the doorways over there are milk bottles which I drank. Handy for hangovers. And down here is the printing house, set back from the silvery black street where they print the exams. My little tortured dreams of breaking in to see. And along this iron fence with the chain from post to post with tops of tiny spires. And the trees in the square. Branches thrown like stale hair. And the lamp posts and inside the shiny glass. Boot scrapers on the granite porches. Seagulls wheeling from the stone buildings and standing in the street screaming. No world outside. Or hearts boiled in grief. Or scheming, cruel dying eyes. Nor spades hurrying into the soil for gold. Just micks.
A professor followed by a gray cat crossed in front of him in a dressing gown. Green white pajama legs catching a rim of wet and blue feet showing from his slippers. The professor nodded, a little early for smiling. I dip my head. I see him go up the steps and down the stone hall on his lonely academic legs with the milk whine of the cat behind.
Up in the windows here I see things that make me feel that I'm a tourist. See a man with a beard behind the grease and steam-stained glass. He's pouring tea in pots or something. Give me some. Think I met him at the Student Christian Movement. Hale and hearty fellow. OI remember reading about that in the calendar. They said the Student Christian Movement is a fellowship of students who desire to understand the Christian faith and to live the Christian life. This desire is the only condition of membership. I beg you, let me belong. Met that man there. Apt to forget a lot of things. I came to the Student Christian Movement with an open heart And mouth. And stood at the door of No. 3 shyly aware of salvation. A blond, curly haired young man came forward offering his hand in a strong warm greeting. Welcome to our little society, come in, let me introduce you. You're doing law? I've seen