15 | Kearney
— Dwayne Kearney
To: Joseph Kearney
Email received at 6:23
18/06/2003
wats up faggit?
how r things back in gay ireland? im off me fucking trolly right now so sorry if i talk a load of shite except im not sorry at all u little queer. haha im only messing with u joseph dont be so touchy u faggit. listen joe drop wat yr doin an GET DE FUCK OVER HERE — amerika is unFUCKING beleievable. trust me. im only hear a cuple of days but allredy i never want to go back to shitty ireland again. seeiriously. im working like a nigger but fuck it we slEEp on the job and take coke every day and there is a session EVREY NITE!!! book yr tickets right now nigga!! or wud u prefer to stay in dublin smoking shite dublin hash all summer!!! cos hears de ting. over here i can alreddy get watever de fuck i want. wen i want. theres dis guy called Stu and hes been sorting me out with whatever de fuck i want wink wink nod nod. seerieously yu hav to meet him hes a cool moterfucker. and forget them dry cunted irish mingers as well joe. when u come over hear ill have some real wimen ready for ya. cute little bitches man i meen it u wont beLEAVE it. u have to pay of course but u no what dey say — theres no free lunch joe!! except a fuckin dog or sumting. dont take my wurd 4 it come over and sea 4 yrself.
get on dat plane joe!!!
later homes!
yr loving brother Dwayne INsane
PS seeriesly i am off my fuckeng tits here i swere to fucking god. me mate egon says hello. seeriously egon dats his fuckeing name like the bleedin gostbusters. i am off mi fuckenng hed and heres the thing i dont even no the name of wat we took but fuck me joe its fucking great GET OVER HERE!!!!
PS haha jus like Mortel Kombat tho u wudnt no cos yr 2 young u fagget
16 | Rez
Rez woke early and hung about the house for a few hours, trying to read, not knowing what else to do with himself. Around noon he went into town to meet Julie. It was another drizzly, overcast day; it felt like the summer would never begin. When he saw her standing with her hands in her army-jacket pockets on the cobblestones outside Eamonn Doran’s, Rez shrugged off the heavy mesh of obsessive reflections he’d been entangled in, enough to offer her a smile. But instantly as he did so, he realized by the look on her face that something was wrong.
He took her hand and they started walking. But after a few steps, as they passed under the archway leading out to the Ha’penny Bridge, she slid her arm out of his and put her hand back into her pocket, muttering that it was chilly.
They wandered aimlessly for a while, saying little. Rez was tense, his mind crowded with grim and painful thoughts. He wished he hadn’t smoked that joint on the way to the bus stop before coming in to meet her.
Their wandering led them up O’Connell Street, across the junction and into the Garden of Remembrance, where only the odd tourist stood admiring the mythical-swan statue or throwing a coin or two into the long, low fountain. Inside the walls of the garden it was both peaceful and strangely desolate.
They sat down on a bench. Still they said nothing. Rez was growing sullen, irritated by her distance and moodiness. Julie looked away, watching a young couple who had just walked in, pushing a buggy and laughing together, both absorbed in a funny anecdote the woman was telling.
Then she turned to Rez and said, ‘Listen, I don’t know how I’m supposed to say this, but I’ve been thinking a lot and I don’t … I don’t think we should be together any more.’
He looked at her in silence, stunned even though he’d been half expecting it.
‘What do ye mean? What are ye talkin about? But … I’m in love with ye, Julie.’
She shook her head. ‘It hasn’t been the same for ages. Yer changing. I don’t know, I just don’t feel good around ye any more. Ye always seem so distant, like yer half in another world, staring off into space all the time.’
‘Look, I know what ye mean, I have been a bit off, but it’s just temporary, I’ve just been worried about a couple of things, there were just some things on me mind. But I’m grand, I’m fine. I promise ye I’ll be back like the way I used to be. I promise ye.’ A whining, pathetic quality had come into his voice but Rez didn’t care; he didn’t want to lose her.
But his pleading only had the effect of strengthening Julie’s resolve, which had begun for a moment to flicker, as if about to give in to comfort, pity and the lure of the familiar.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Rez. I’ve made up me mind. I do love ye, but it’s just better to be on me own at the moment. It’s not you, it’s me.’
She winced, as if embarrassed at having uttered such a cliché.
Rez was close to tears. ‘For fuck’s sake, Julie,’ he pleaded. ‘What am I goin to do? Ye can’t just do it like that. Ye can’t. The summer’s only after startin, I was just under a lot of pressure with the Leavin Cert and everything. Can ye not just give it another chance?’
Julie looked downcast but she remained resolute. The more he pleaded, the more she hardened against him.
She sighed. ‘Look, Rez, I’ve decided I’m goin InterRailing with Gráinne and Anne. I know I said I wasn’t goin to but I’ve changed me mind. So it’s better I say all this now, okay? I’m sorry, Rez.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ he said, hands on his knees, looking at the ground. The couple with the buggy walked past, having circled the fountain; they noticed the scene and lapsed into an embarrassed silence.
A while later Julie stood and walked back up the steps and out of the Garden of Remembrance, leaving him sitting there, alone and dejected, as a cold drizzle began to mist up the dull Dublin sky.
17 | Matthew
I got a job on the forecourt of the Shell garage down the road. It was easy work. On my first shift a dazed Ukrainian showed me what I had to do: fill up cars, occasionally go over them with the hose from the washer, and ‘keep an eye on things’, whatever that meant. By the second half of the day I was confident enough to get stoned off my face, smoking furtively over by the wall. I imagined a spark from my lighter sending the whole place up, a mushroom cloud expanding across the southside, like one of the videos Kearney was always watching. The wet and dreary weather had returned, which suited me fine. I stood against the wall and listened to the rain lashing down on the plastic Shell logo and the concrete, and when the car headlights came on they left lovely, blurring trails across the grey.
I was to meet Jen on Friday. On Saturday she was going away to Spain on holiday with her da — a present for all the study she’d done.
I hung around the house that afternoon, waiting for her to call. When my phone finally rang, I let it ring three times to show how cool I was. Then I picked up.
‘How’s a goin,’ I said.
‘Hi.’
‘So listen, where do ye want to meet? We can go see a film, or just hang around, or whatever. What do you want to do?’
She gave an awkward laugh then said, ‘I’m really sorry, Matthew, but that’s what I was calling for. I wanted to tell ye I can’t meet up today after all. I want to, but it turns out that this is the last chance I have to see Siobhan before she leaves on her trip. I thought I’d get to see her tomorrow morning but —’
‘What about later on, then? Can’t we meet in the evening?’
‘No, I can’t, Matthew. My dad’s taking me and Padraig out for dinner. Part of his big “Thanks for working hard for the Leaving Cert” effort.’
‘Oh,’ I said.