The sergeant reminded me of the clown in Duffy's circus not the way he looked but when he talked. Especially when he was telling you all the terrible things were going to happen to you now. H'ho! he'd say. And H'haw! Just the same as Sausage the clown. H'ho yewer an awfill man altogedder, Sausage'd say and away off round the ring with his stripey legs flying. Him and the sergeant must have been born in the same town or something.
He was off again. H'ho when a the priests get their hands on you there won't be so much guff outa ye h'ho. I said I'm sorry Sergeant Sausage but he stubbed the fag excitedly in the ashtray and said its too late for that me buck you shoulda thoughta that when you were in Nugents up to your tricks! H'ho aye!
Boo hoo, Sergeant Sausage, I said.
He was so excited he didn't even notice I had called him Sergeant Sausage. There were laurel bushes all along the avenue and a gardener forking manure and muttering to himself. When we went past in the car he stood looking after us with one hand on his hip and tipping his cap back. I made a face at him through the back window and he nearly fell into the manure heap. Up she rose out of nowhere the house of a hundred windows. This is a grand spot I said. H'ho says the sergeant we'll see if you say that in six months time! H'ha.
A man made of bubbles in charge of a school for bad boys it was hard to believe but it was true for there he was at the window his big bubble head and out he comes bouncing bounce bounce ah Howareye! he says to the sergeant, I never saw such a big bright white polished head as that old Father Bubble had. Howareye at all! he says again and the sergeant starts to huff and puff and try to dicky up his uniform. Oh not too bad now Father did ye have a nice trip not too bad eh Father thanks.
Ah that's grand said Bubble.
Then he looks over at me. So this is the famous Francie Brady, he says, doing tricks with his fingers and saying hmm hmm.
Yes Father, I said, Its the one and only Francie Brady.
You speak when you're spoken to says Sausage but Bubble raised his hand and said no problem Father.
I gave Bubble a big wink good man yourself Father I said and next thing his face goes all cloudy. He's a bad article says the sergeant and I thought he was going to make a go at me.
Bubble was staring at me with these two eyes like a pair of screwdrivers. You'd do well to keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr Brady, that's what I'd say to you now. The sergeant liked that he started rubbing his hands and going six months time six months time!
Then the two of them just stood there glaring at me for a minute I thought they were going to light on me and start kicking me down the avenue with these mad lets batter Francie Brady! eyes on them. But they didn't. You just heed my advice, says Bubble, and then he sank his arms deep into these slits in his soutane and smiled at Sausage and away off talking then about football and the weather. Sausage thought the town might win the county championship oh I don't know about that says Bubble. Neither did I but I thought a good result would be: The other team – 100 goals. The town – 0. I was going to say that to see what they'd say but then I says ah I'll not bother my arse. They went on jabbering for over half an hour and left me standing there like a gawk. Then Sausage says: Well I'll be off so. He looked over at me: I'll be keeping tabs on you, he says.
Yes, Sergeant, I said.
He backed off slowly as if I was going to pull out a revolver blam blam him and Bubble one in the head apiece but I wasn't then brrm brrm phut phut and h'ho that was the end of him.
Now, says Bubble stroking his chin and staring right at me, maybe we understand each other a little bit better. What do you make of your new home, Mr Brady?
Its grand says I, good enough for pigs.
What did you say?, says Bubble and he didn't like that either.
He gave my jumper a chuck.
You'll find no pigs here!, he says. But he could say what he liked I knew well it was a school for pigs.
The Incredible School for Pigs!, I said in my telly voice.
Did you hear what I said says Bubble there's no pigs! This is a school.
Indeed it is, I said – A school for pigs!
There's no pigs! he said and his voice squeaked a bit at the end it was a good laugh.
Welcome to the school for pigs, I said and pulled away from him.
Don't worry, he says, you're not the first and you won't be the last!
He was rolling up his sleeves. He didn't say the first what. I cupped my hand and the echo glided in low under the laurels.
Little pigs! Little pigs! Open up! I cried.
He tried to get a hold of me but I was too slippery for him and when I went down on all fours he couldn't manage it at all. I crawled around him and that near drove him mad. I let a few snorts out of me. There was an old priest above at a window. I went up on my hind legs and begged a bit for him. Snort I said and a big grin.
Then Bubble caught me a rap on the side of the head and I saw stars. That's nothing to what you'll get, he said. I was glad he did it. I wanted him to give me a proper hiding.
I said all sorts of things to get him to do it. I said welcome to the pig school. I stuck my face right up to his and scrunched it up into a snout. I snorted. Go on, I said and I stuck my chin out. But instead of laying into me he backed off and just looked at me with the screwdriver eyes. He wasn't afraid or anything. He was just looking and taking it all in so then I stopped. Are you quite finished now he said and I said I was. I was exhausted and I had a headache. All these crows on the telephone wires. What are you looking at cunts, I thought. Then he says get inside out of that and no more of your lip. I went upstairs to the dormitory where there was a saint on every window-sill, such a shower of dying-looking bastards I never seen. Bubble was right behind me as I humped the case. I pointed to Our Lady. She's in a bad way I said to him, she needs to suck a zube. He said nothing only to be down at Benediction in half an hour and up at six the next morning for footing turf in the bog. There was a little Jesus over on the window across from my bed. He was looking over at me. Poor poor Francie Brady he was saying: Isn't it a terrible pity too? I went over to him and says: Isn't what a terrible pity?
Oh oh er er I'm only saying he says. No, I says, you didn't answer me – Isn't what a terrible pity?
All right then I says have it your way so crack, off the side of the washbasin and down into the plughole goes his little head just sitting there sideways looking up glug glug. There was a gaping hole in my stomach for I knew Joe would have heard all about Nugents by now. I had let him down. I had nobody now that was for sure and it was all my own fault. I wouldn't blame him for not writing to me, why should he after what I'd done on him? I broke my promise and that was that. I tried to get at my wrists with the jaggy bit of the statue. I managed to get at bits but it was doing no damage you could still be at it in a hundred years time the way it was going. Then over comes this bogman fellow here's my head and my arse is coming. What are you doingoh my God luck he's broke Our Lord if the priest sees you with that he'll kill you! I looked at him with the statue in my hand. There was a little red Elizabethan collar round the neck of it where I'd been hacking with it. I never seen the like of that bogman. He had this big tuft of hair sticking up and two other bits like indicators on either side. O you're goanta bee in terrible trubble he says. His scarecrow trousers stopped at the ankles and he stood there hunched up with his bony arse cocked in the air like he was carrying an invisible bag of spuds on his back. I wouldn't like to be you he said again but I was fed up of him by then so I made a go at him with what was left of the statue and off he went as white as a ghost nearly skittering himself. Then I threw No-Head in the bin and lay down on the bed.