– Fess Parker, said my da. -What sort of a name is that?
I liked the Indians. I liked their weapons. I made an Apache flop-head club. It was a marble, a gullier, in a sock, and I nailed it to a stick. I stuck a feather in the sock. It whirred when I spun it and the feather fell out. I hit the wall with it and a bit chipped off. I should have thrown away the other sock. My ma gave out when she found the one I didn’t use, by itself.
– It can’t have gone far, she said. -Look under your bed.
I went upstairs and I looked under the bed even though I knew that the sock wasn’t there and my ma hadn’t followed me up. I was by myself and I got down and looked. I climbed in under. I found a soldier. A German World War One one with a spiky helmet.
I read William. I read all of them. There were thirty-four of them. I owned eight of them. The others were in the library. William The Pirate was the best. I say! gasped William. I’ve never seen such a clever dog. I say! he gasped, he’s splendid. Hi, Toby! Toby! Come here, old chap! Toby was nothing loth. He was a jolly, friendly little dog. He ran up to William and played with him and growled at him and pretended to bite him and rolled over and over.
– Can I’ve a dog for my birthday?
– No.
– Christmas?
– No.
– Both together?
– No.
– Christmas and my birthday?
– You want me to hit you, is that it?
– No.
I asked my ma. She said the same. But when I said two Christmases and birthdays she said, -I’ll see.
That was good enough.
William’s gang was the Outlaws; him, Ginger, Douglas and Henry. It was Ginger’s turn to push the pram and he seized it with a new vigour.
– Vigour, I said.
– Vigour!
– Vigour vigour vigour!
For a day we called ourselves the Vigour Tribe. We got one of Sinbad’s markers and did big Vs on our chests, for Vigour. It was cold. The marker tickled. Big black Vs. From our diddies to our tummy buttons.
– Vigour!
Kevin threw the cap of Sinbad’s marker down a shore, an old one on Barrytown Road with goo at the bottom. We went into Tootsie’s shop and showed her our chests.
– One two three -
– Vigour!
She didn’t notice or say anything. We ran out of the shop. Kevin drew a big mickey on Kiernan’s pillar. We ran. We came back for Kevin to draw the drops coming out of the mickey. We ran again.
– Vigour!
The Kiernans were only Mister and Missis Kiernan.
– Did their children die? I asked my ma.
– No, she said. -No. They had no children.
– Why didn’t they?
– Oh, God knows, Patrick.
– That’s stupid, I said.
They weren’t old. They both went to work, in his car. She drove it as well. We got into their back when they were at work. It was a corner house; it was easy. The wall was higher because of the corner so we could stay in there for ages and no one would see us. The biggest risk was climbing out and that was brilliant. It was great being second; first was too scary. Your ma could have been walking by with the pram. You weren’t allowed to look first; that was the rule. You had to climb straight and slide over the wall without looking to see if there was anyone there. We were never caught. Missis Kiernan’s knickers were on the line once. I took the pole away and the line dropped closer to us. We grabbed Aidan. We hadn’t said anything but we knew. We made him, we shoved his face into the knickers. He sounded like he was being sick.
– Lucky they’re not dirty ones.
I put the pole back. We took turns. We ran, jumped and headed the knickers. It was brilliant. We did it for ages. We didn’t take them down off the line.
My ma saw the V when we were having our bath on Saturday after tea. Me and Sinbad were in together. She always gave us five minutes to splash. She saw the V. It was nearly faded. Sinbad had one as well.
– What are they? she asked.
– Vs, I said.
– What are they doing there? she asked.
– We just did them, I said.
She made the face-cloth real soapy. She held my shoulder while she rubbed the V off. It hurt.
I was in Mister Fitz’s shop getting a half block of ice-cream. It was Sunday. Ripple ice-cream. I was to tell Mister Fitz to put it on my ma’s list. That meant she’d pay him on Friday. He wrapped the ice-cream in the paper he wrapped Vienna rolls in. He folded it up. It was already wet.
– There now, he said.
– Thanks very much, I said.
Missis Kiernan was at the door; she was coming in, her shape was in the door. My face went hot. She was going to see my face and catch me. She’d know.
I got past her. She was going to stop me, going to grab my shoulder. There were people; they were talking on the path. They had newspapers and cartons of cream. They were going to see. Kevin’s ma and da were there. And girls. She was going to catch me and shout.
I crossed the road and went home the wrong side. She knew. Someone had told her. She definitely knew. She was waiting. She’d followed me into the shop to see if I’d go red. She’d seen it. My face was still red; I could feel it. Her hair was longer than my ma’s. It was fatter as well, thicker. Brown. She never said Hello. She never walked to the shops. They always drove and their house was only a bit down the road. He was the only grown man in Barrytown with locks, and he had a moustache as well.
I looked back. Safe; she wasn’t following. I crossed back to our side. She was lovely. She was gorgeous. She was wearing jeans on a Sunday. Maybe she was waiting, for the right moment to catch me.
I whisked the ice-cream with my spoon till it was soft. I made mountains on it. The ripple was gone. All the ice-cream had gone pink. I always used a small spoon; it made it last longer. My face went hot again, thinking, not as bad though as earlier. I could hear my blood. I could see me going to the door and Missis Kiernan would be there; she’d want to see my ma and she’d tell her about what I’d done to her knickers, and my da. I could hear the steps. I waited for the bell.
If the bell didn’t ring by the time I’d finished all the icecream she wouldn’t be coming. But I couldn’t rush it. I had to eat it the slow way I always did, always the last one to finish. I was allowed to lick the bowl. The bell didn’t ring at all. I felt like I’d done something; my mission had been accomplished. I waited till my face felt normal again. It was very quiet. I was the only one left at the table with them. I didn’t look at them when I asked.
– Are you allowed to wear jeans on a Sunday?
– No, said my da.
– It depends, said my ma. -Not till after mass anyway.
– No, said my da.
My ma looked at him with a face, like the look she had when she caught us doing something; sadder, though.
– He doesn’t have any jeans, she said. -He’s just asking.
My da said nothing. My ma said nothing.
My ma read books. Mostly at night. She licked her finger when she was coming to the end of her page, then she turned the page; she pulled the corner up with her wet finger. In the mornings I found her book marker, a bit of newspaper, in the book and I counted back the number of pages she’d read the night before. The record was forty-two.
There was a smell of church off the desks in our school. When I folded my arms and put my head in the hollow, when Henno told us to go asleep, I could smell the same smell as you got off the seats in the church. I loved it. It was spicy and like the ground under a tree. I licked the desk but it just tasted horrible.