The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [82]
"Look, Dangerfield. When someone farted in my house you could smell it in every room. At every meal there were seven pairs of hands reaching for a pile of spaghetti. Fights and yapping. Yap, yap, yap. I'm here because I want to get out of that forever and there's one thing that will get me out and that's money. I don't give a damn what you do, drink yourself to death, murder Marion, but me, I've had all I want What have I got to show for two years over here? This sack has everything I own in the world."
"I'm only trying to be of help, Kenneth."
"Well you're not You're sucking me down. I don't want you on my back"
"You don't mean that, Kenneth"
"I mean it I don't care if I never see you again as long as I live. You could be dying in the gutter, I don't care. All I want is my money and you can go and drink yourself to death"
"O hard words, Kenneth"
"What the hell have I got to show for all the time I've been over here? Nothing. And it's because of people like you. The Irish are all the same wherever they go. Faces compressed into masks of suffering. Complaining and excuses. And the Irish rasping, squabbling and bickering. Hear me? I'm sick of it I hate it I thought you got places when you learned to be an electrician. Good steady job. Good money. Have kids. I don't want kids. I don't want to be sucked down. And listen to some priested mick saying this is the second Sunday after Pentecost, there will be a communion breakfast next Sunday, and I want to see you all put a dollar in the basket. And every time I get a chance to get out of it, something screws me."
"O you're distraught, Kenneth. Now calm. And remember poverty is sacred. But don't strain to get away. All these other things will come. Let me sing you a little song."
All the way
From the land
Of Kerry
Is a man
From the dead
Gone merry.
This man
Stood in the street
And stamped his feet
And no one heard him.
20
They arrived in the Geary. The sea is right down those streets lashing and lapping. And have to bend down to get under these clouds. O madam bend over, I want to tell you something. Out here it's like soft bread and fish things burrow and hide. I used to climb around here. Get the tiny creatures caught in these crystal cradles of rock. Like me. Until they take the fearful sun away and give me a bosom of deep.
In the post office. Of the Geary. Dangerfield approached the counter abruptly. Clicked his heels.
"I say, my good man, would you see if there is a letter for Percivil Buttermere ? "
Clerk turning to the row of boxes. Dangerfield rotating on his ankles. O'Keefe standing glumly aside. An apostate. Man murmuring seeing is. Pound in the pocket is twenty in the post. There were guilty smiles.
"Have faith, Kenneth. They say they build a lot of things on that. OI wish the world had more faith"
"I've no sympathy for the grief it's causing you"
Clerk going through the butter. Pulls out a letter for a good look. Puts it back. Comes to the end. Grumbling is heard and mumbling.
"Sorry sir, no Buttermere"
"I say, doo ding dong, there must be some mistake. A mistake, I say. Or said"
O'Keefe drew his shoulders up around his head. And let them down slowly. A shift of the pack and he bent towards the door. Drove his weary self out into the street
"I'll take another look for you, sir"
"Would you. Very urgent matter."
Clerk, nearsighted and whispering.
"There's Butcher, Buttimer—there's Buttermede."
"I say, ding dong, that may be it"
"Blotted"
"Let me see it"
Sound of ripping.
"This is it Ding dong. Come up you numb bunch of bastards out of that hold and batten down or something"
"What, sir?"
"A sentiment"
"O."
A cat, his eyes afire. There were three five pound and broken notes. And a letter. And a moment of hesitation and instant of animal Reading these sweet Erse words.
TA GUIG PUINT STERLING INIOCTHA AS AN NOTA SO LE N-A SHEALBHOIR