He had a net bag for his messages. He took a brown bag out of it. I knew what was in it.
–D’yis want a biscuit, boys?
We queued up. We let Liam and Aidan go first. He was their da.
–Did you see his handbag? said Kevin when Mister O’Connell was gone.
–It wasn’t a handbag, said Aidan.
–It was so, said Kevin.
No one joined in.
There were fields past the Corporation houses but they were too far away now. Past the Corporation houses. Somewhere else.
We’d done the compass points in school the day we got the summer holidays.
–Which way am I pointing—NOW.
–East.
–One of you at a time.—YOU.
–East, Sir.
–Just to make sure you didn’t say that just because Mister Bradshaw got there before you.—NOW.
–West, Sir.
The Corporation houses were west. The seafront was east. Raheny was south. The north was interesting.
–The last frontier, said my da.
First there were more new houses. There was no one in them yet because they’d all flooded before they were finished. Past the houses was the field with the hills, the one that had been dug up and stopped and grown over, where we built our huts. And over the hills was Bayside.
Bayside wasn’t finished yet but it wasn’t the building sites we were after this time. It was the shape of the place. It was mad. The roads were crooked. The garages weren’t in the proper place. They were in blocks away from the houses. Down a path, into a yard, a fort made of garages. The place made no sense. We went there to get lost.
–It’s a labyrinth.
–Labyrinth!
–Labyrinth labyrinth labyrinth!
We charged through on our bikes. Bikes became important, our horses. We galloped through the garage yards and made it to the other side. I tied a rope to the handlebars and hitched my bike to a pole whenever I got off it. We parked our bikes on verges so they could graze. The rope got caught between the spokes of the front wheel; I went over the handlebars, straight over. It was over before I knew. The bike was on top of me. I was alone. I was okay. I wasn’t even cut. We charged into the garages—
–Woo wooo wooo wooo wooo wooo wooo!
and the garages captured our noise and made it bigger and grownup. We escaped out the other end, out onto the street and back for a second attack.
We got material from our houses and made headbands. Mine was a tartan one, with a seagull’s feather. We took off our jumpers and shirts and vests. James O’Keefe took off his trousers and rode through Bayside in his underpants. His skin was stuck to the saddle when he was getting off, from the sweat; you could hear the skin clinging to the plastic. We threw his trousers onto the roof of a garage, and his shirt and his vest. We put his jumper down a shore.
The garage roofs were easy to get up onto. We climbed up on our saddles and onto the roofs when we’d conquered the forts.
–Woo wooo wooo wooo wooo wooo wooo!
A woman looked out of a bedroom window and made a face and moved her hands, telling us to get down. We did the first time. We got on our bikes and hightailed it out of Bayside. She’d called the police; her husband was a Guard; she was a witch. I got straight from the roof onto the bike without touching the ground. I pushed off from the wall. There was a wobble but then I was gone. I circled the garages to make sure that the others had time to escape.
I’d got the bike for Christmas, two Christmases before. I woke up. I thought I did. The bedroom door was closing. The bike was leaning against the end of my bed. I was confused. And afraid. The door clicked shut. I stayed in the bed. I heard no steps outside in the hall. I didn’t try to ride the bike for months after. We didn’t need them. We were better on foot through the fields and sites. I didn’t like it. I didn’t know who’d given it to me. It should never have been in my bedroom. It was a Raleigh, a gold one. It was the right size for me and I didn’t like that either. I wanted a grownup one, with straight handlebars and brakes that fit properly into my hands with the bars, like Kevin had. My brakes stuck down under the bars. I had to gather them into my hands. When I held the bar and the brake together the bike stopped; I couldn’t do it. The only thing I did like was a Manchester United sticker that was in my stocking when I woke up again in the morning. I stuck it on the bar under the saddle.
We didn’t need bikes then. We walked; we ran. We ran away. That was the best, running away. We shouted at watchmen, we threw stones at windows, we played knickknack—and ran away. We owned Barrytown, the whole lot of it. It went on forever. It was a country.
Bayside was for bikes.
I couldn’t cycle it. I could get my leg over the saddle and onto the pedal and push but that was all. I couldn’t go; I couldn’t stay up. I didn’t know how. I was doing everything right. I ran the bike, got onto it and fell over. I was frightened. I knew I was going to fall before I started. I gave up. I put the bike in the shed. My da got angry. I didn’t care.
–Santy got you that bike, he said.—The least you can do is learn how to cycle the bloody thing.
I said nothing.
–It comes natural, he said.—It’s as natural as walking.
I could walk.
I asked him to show me.
–About time, he said.
I got up on the bike; he held the back of the saddle and I pedalled. Up the garden. Down the garden. He thought I was enjoying it; I hated it. I knew: he let go: I fell over.
–Keep pedalling keep pedalling keep pedalling—
I fell over. I got off the bike. I wasn’t really falling. I was putting my left foot down. That made him more annoyed.
–You’re not trying.
He pulled the bike away from me.
–Come on; get up.
I couldn’t. He had the bike. He realised this. He gave it back. I got up. He held the back. He said nothing. I pedalled. We went down the garden. I went faster. I stayed up; he was still holding. I looked back. He wasn’t there. I fell over. But I’d done it; I’d gone a bit without him. I could do it. I didn’t need him now. I didn’t want him.
He was gone anyway. Back into the house.
–You’ll be grand now, he said.
He was just lazy.
I stayed on. I turned at the top of the garden instead of getting off and turning the bike and getting back on. I stayed on. Around the garden three times. Nearly into the hedge. I stayed on.
We ruled Bayside. We camped up on the garage roofs. We lit a fire. We could see in all directions. We were ready for any attack. There were boys in Bayside but they were mostly smaller and saps. The ones our age were saps too. We got one of the small ones; we held him hostage. We made him climb up on the saddle, onto the roof. We surrounded him. We held him over the side of the roof. We kicked him. I gave him a dead leg.
–If we get attacked you’re dead, Kevin told him.
We held him for ten minutes. We made him jump off the roof. He landed the right way. Nothing ever happened. No one came after us.
Bayside was great for knickknacking. In the night. There were no walls or hedges, no real gardens. A straight row of bells. It was easy. There was a path or a lane at the end of each row. Escaping was nothing. The really great bit was doubling back and doing it all over again. Our record was seventeen. Seventeen times we rang the five bells in the row and escaped. One of the houses didn’t have a bell so I knocked on the glass. We were dizzy by the time we’d finished. We did it in a relay. Me first, then Kevin, Liam, Aidan, me again. The thrill was coming round to start again, not knowing if there’d be a door open waiting to catch you.
–Maybe they’re all out.
–No way, said Kevin.—They’re all in.
–How?
–They are, I said.—I saw them.
It was getting cold. I put my shirt and jumper back on.
–Is it morning yet?