She looked just the same.
–Will I get Francis?
She threw the cloth and it landed hanging over the sink.
She never threw things.
–We both will, she said.
She got the baby up and fitted her into her hip. Then she put her hand out, for me. Her hand was wet. We crept up the stairs. We laughed when they creaked. She squeezed my hand.
The funeral would be colossal. And a flag on his coffin. The saved person’s family would give me and Sinbad money. My ma would have one of those veils on, right over her face. She’d look lovely behind it. She’d cry quietly. I wouldn’t cry at all. I’d put my arm around her when we were walking out of the church with everyone looking at us. Sinbad wouldn’t be able to reach up to her shoulders. Kevin and them would want to stand near me outside the church and beside the grave but they wouldn’t be able to because there’d be so many people, not just the relations. I’d have a suit with long trousers and a good pocket on the inside of the jacket. The saved boy’s family would get a plaque put up on our wall beside the front door. My da had died saving a little boy’s life. It wasn’t going to happen like that though; that was only stupid. Dreaming was only nice while it lasted. Nothing was going to happen to my da. Anyway, I didn’t really want him to die or anything else; he was my da. I preferred to imagine my own funeral; it was a much better dream.
I saw Charles Leavy going out the school gate. I looked around—I didn’t want anyone else—and followed him. I waited for a shout; we weren’t allowed out of the yard for little break. I kept going at the same speed. I put my hands in my pockets.
He’d gone into the field. I kicked a stone when I was crossing the road. I looked back. The shed blocked most of the yard. There was no one looking. I ran. He’d dropped into the high grass. I kept my eyes on the place. I slowed down and walked into the grass. It was still wet. I whistled. I thought I was going right for him.
–It’s me.
I saw a gap in the grass, a hole.
–It’s me.
He was there. I had to sit down but I didn’t want to. My trousers were already dark from the wet. He was sitting on a soggy cardboard box. There was no room for me. I kneeled on the edge of it.
–I saw you, I said.
–So wha’.
–Nothing.
He took a drag from his Major. He must have got it lit in the time it had taken me to catch up with him. He didn’t pass it on to me. I was glad but I’d been hoping he would.
–Are you mitching?
–Would I leave me bag in the room if I was mitching? he said.
–No, I said.
–Then.
–That’d be thick.
He took another drag. We were the only people in the field. The only noise was from the yard, the shouting and a teacher’s whistle, and a cement mixer or something far away. I watched the smoke coming out. He didn’t. He was looking at the sky. I was wet. I was listening for the bell. How would we get back in? The quiet was like a pain in my stomach. He wasn’t going to say anything.
–How many do you smoke a day?
–Twenty about.
–Where do you get the money?
I didn’t mean it to sound like I didn’t believe him. He looked at me.
–I rob it, he said.
I believed him.
–Yeah, I said, like I did too.
Now I looked at the sky too. There wasn’t much time left.
–Did you ever run away? I said.
–Fuck off, would yeh.
I was surprised. Then it made sense: why would he have?
–Did you ever want to?
–I’d have done it if I’d wanted to, he said.
Then he asked a question.
–Thinkin’ o’ doin’ it yourself, are yeh?
–No.
–Why were you askin’ then?
–I was only asking.
–Yeah, maybe.
I was going to ask him if I could go with him the next time. That was why I’d followed him. It was stupid. I was stranded, away from the yard. I was with him but he didn’t care. If Charles Leavy ever ran away from home he’d never have come back. He’d have stayed away. I didn’t want to do that.
I didn’t want to get caught. I stood up.
–See yeh later.
He didn’t answer.
I crept to the edge of the field but it was no fun.
I wanted to run away to frighten them and make them feel guilty, to push them into each other. She’d cry and he’d put his arm around her. And his arm would stay there when I came home in the back of the police car. I’d be sent to Artane for wasting the police’s time and money but they’d come to see me every Sunday while I was in there, not for long. They’d think it was their fault, Sinbad as well, but I’d tell them that it wasn’t. Then I’d get out.
That had been my plan.
I stood up out of the grass. I looked around as if I was searching for something, looking worried.
–I lost a pound note, Sir. I was minding it for my ma for messages.
I shrugged, gave up. The money had blown away. I crossed the road. The worst bit, around the shed, back into the yard. No one waiting. Mister Finnucane coming out the door with the bell. I got beside Aidan and Liam.
–Where were you?
–Having a smoke.
They looked at me.
–With Charlo, I said.
I couldn’t help saying more.
–D’you want to smell my breath?
Mister Finnucane lifted the bell with his other hand holding the donger inside it. He always did it that way. He held it over his shoulders, then freed the donger and dropped the bell, and lifted it, and dropped it, ten times. His lips moved, counting. We had to be in our lines by the tenth one. Charles Leavy was in front of me, five places. Kevin was behind me. He kneed my knee.
–Lay off messing!
–Make me.
–I will.
–Go on.
I did nothing. I wanted to do something to him.
–Go on.
I kicked him backwards in the shin. It hurt him; I could feel it. He jumped and fell out of the line.
–What’s going on there?
–Nothing, Sir.
–What happened you?
It was Mister Arnold, not Henno. He’d been counting the boys in his row. He didn’t care too much what had happened. He was only looking over boys’ heads. He hadn’t bothered breaking a way through them.
–I fell, Sir, said Kevin.
–Well, don’t fall again.
–Yes, Sir.
Kevin was behind me again.
–I’m going to get you, Clarke.
I didn’t even look around.
–I’m going to get you. D’you hear me?
–No talking back there.
Henno had come out to get us. He marched down one side of us, counting, and up the other side. He passed me the second time. I waited for Kevin to hit. He thumped me in the back. That was all he had time for.
–That was only the start.
I didn’t care. He hadn’t hurt me bad. Anyway, I could get him back. He wasn’t my friend any more. He was a sap, a spoofer and a liar. He hadn’t a clue.
–Anois,[24] Henno shouted at the front.—Clé deas, clé deas—
We marched into the main school, around to our room. Henno was at the door.
–Wipe your feet.
He only had to say it once. The fellas at the front did it and everybody copied them. Last in had to close the door quietly. Not a peep going through the school. Henno always kept us till last so our noises wouldn’t mix in with the other classes. He made us stand for half an hour if he heard as much as a whisper. We had to wait till the two ahead of us were in the room before we were allowed to go in.
I was still going to run away, even without Sinbad or Charles Leavy. I’d wanted Sinbad most, like in Flight of the Doves, me in charge, carrying my little brother on my back when he was too tired, through the ditches and the bogs, over rivers. Looking after him.