The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [107]
"I say, Tone, what's happened?"
"I moved everything out. Sent Terry and the kids down to the country. I'm in this tomb holding out just in case they give up trying to evict. It's good, isn't it."
Sebastian sat on the window sill. Tony leaning against the stove, grinning over his folded arms, a pair of pampooties on his crossed feet. This bare room with a single pot hanging over the stove and their voices echoing on the damp thick walls. Looking at each other. Dangerfield bent himself double. Squealed. Tony put back his head and laughed. The windows shook.
"Would you say Tone that there is no end to it? Would you say that now?"
"Jesus I would and I haven't even got a spare bullet for the gun."
"Would you say you're ready for a little bit of sleep, a nap in the 'Nevin' ? Here lies the body of Tone who left only a moan. Would you say that ?"
"Sebastian we're all finished. This last month has really been the worst. When things are bad you keep telling yourself they can't get worse. Then they get worse. And stay that way until you're so weary and screwed you can't even worry anymore. It gets like that. So damn bad that you have to cheer up or die. Clocklan was right, the whore. Up there selling God clouds."
"Kenneth told me."
"That was the way to do it. A bottle of Jameson and off the mail boat I've been reading in the papers to see if the old whore will wash up somewhere. Just like him to come up on some bathing strand next summer and frighten the life out of some poor defenseless kids"
"Do you really think he went off the boat, Tone?"
"I don't know what to think. No one's heard from the ould whore since. It wouldn't surprise me if he's off somewhere like Cardiff screwing some old hag for the few quid she's worth. O'Keefe's finally gone. It's a shame,"
"On the high seas."
"A pity."
"Well, Tone, what are you going to do ? n
"I haven't a whore's notion."
"Where do you sleep ? "
"Come here till I show you. This will give you a laugh."
Sebastian followed him down the long passage, their voices echoing from the dark deep rooms. Sebastian stopped at the door. Malarkey went over to the wall and striking a match on the scaly stone lit a gas mantle.
"Twisted Jesus. I say Tone that's a little bit of the fantastic."
"I knew it would give you a laugh."
In this long pink room. At both ends there were huge railroad spikes driven into the wall to which were attached stout ropes suspending a gigantic hammock lined with a black overcoat.
"Tone, may the Blessed Oliver pray for us all."
Tony with a swift skillful leap landed in the center of this mammoth black cradle. He reached out his hand.
"Hand me that cord on the wall, Sebastian."
Grinning Malarkey pulled on the cord drawing himself towards the wall, releasing it to slip through his fingers. The hammock rocking gently back and forth. From the door faint animal squeaks of Dangerfield.
"Tone, if this weren't the Catacombs, if I weren't deep down here in the cats with an honest man such as yourself I would say it was lies I saw but seeing is, and watching is, believing"
"I'll tell you something. I would have gone out of my mind if it weren't for this, Sebastian. It's been the saving of me. I had nowhere to sleep and just this coat and ould junk. I couldn't get a night's rest on the floor with the suburban community of rats. So with the coat a rich American gave me and this rope I found while looking for something to whip into the pawn I got to work."
Tony lifted up the coat
"I braided this out of some old bits of string and rags. It's the good gas."
"Tony, you've got so much brains you'll never amount to a thing."
"Isn't it the way, Sebastian. Tell me. what's new?"
"I'm going to