The Butcher Boy

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The Butcher Boy Page 2

by Patrick McCabe


  Joe said there was some crack in this town and there sure was. Hand me down the spanner I think Mrs Brady’s ankle needs tightening. Oh now, I said, what a laugh.

  There was some good laughs in them days, me and Joe at the river with our noses in the water, hanging over the edge. You could see the dartboard eyes and the what do you want me to do faces of the fish. Hey fish, Joe would say, fish? Fuck off! What do you think of that, fish? we’d say.

  Then we’d go off on our travels.

  It was all going well until the telly went. Phut!

  That was that then, a blank grey screen looking back at you. I fiddled with it but all I got was a blizzard of snow so I sat there looking at that in the hope that something would come on but it didn’t and there was still nothing when da came home. How did it happen he says and I told him. I was just sitting there the next thing – out like a light. He pulled off his greatcoat and it fell on the floor. Right, he says, all business, let’s have a look at this now. He was humming away to himself happy as Larry about it all. Then he says you know there’s not as much into these televisions as the likes of Mickey Traynor makes out. He had bought it off Mickey Traynor the holy telly man that was because he sold holy pictures on the side. He fiddled about with it for a while but nothing happened then he shifted it over by the window and said it could be the aerial but it only got worse there. He hit it a thump and then what happened even the snow went. After that he started to rant and rave about Mickey. He said he might have known better than to trust the likes of Traynor, him and his holy pictures don’t fool me. He’ll not sell me a dud television and get away with it. He’ll not pull any of his foxy stunts on Benny Brady. I’m up to the likes of Mickey Traynor make no mistake. He smacked it with his hand. Work! he shouted. Look at it – I should have known it’d be no good. Work! How long have we got? Six months that’s how long we have it, bought and paid for with my hard-earned money. But I’ll tell you this – Traynor will give me back every cent I paid him every cent by Christ he will!

  He drew out and put his boot through it, the glass went everywhere. I’ll fix it, he said, I’ll fix it good and fucking proper.

  Then he fell asleep on the sofa with one shoe hanging off.

  There wasn’t much I could do then I got fed up watching the birds hop along the garden wall so I went off up the street. I said to myself well that’s the end of John Wayne I knew it’d lie there glass and all and nobody would ever bother coming to fix it. Ah well, I said sure Joe can always tell me what happens and it was when I was thinking that I saw Philip and Mrs Nugent coming. I knew she thought I was going to turn back when I saw them. She leaned over and said something to Philip. I knew what she was saying but I don’t think she knew I knew. She crinkled up her nose and said in a dead whisper: Just stands there on the landing and lets the father do what he likes to her. You’d never do the like of that would you Philip? You’d always stand by me wouldn’t you?

  Philip nodded and smiled. She smiled happily and then it twisted a bit and the hand went up again as she said: Of course you know what she was doing with the fuse wire don’t you Philip?

  She thought I was going to turn back all red when she said that but I didn’t. I just kept on walking. Ah there you are Mrs Nugent I says with a big grin, and Philip. She looked right through me and it was one of those looks that is supposed to make you shrivel up and die but it only made me grin even more. I was standing in the middle of the footpath. Mrs Nugent held on to her hat with one hand and took Philip with the other would you let me by please she says.

  Oh no I can’t do that I said, you have to pay to get past. She had all these broken nerve ends on her nose and her eyebrows went away up nearly meeting her hair what do you mean what on earth do you mean she said and I could see Philip frowning with his Mr Professor face wondering was it serious maybe, maybe something he could investigate or do a project on. Well he could if he wanted I didn’t care as long as he paid. It was called the Pig Toll Tax. Yes, Mrs Nugent I said, the pig toll tax it is and every time you want to get past it costs a shilling. Her lips got so thin you really would think they were drawn with a pencil and the skin on her forehead was so tight I thought maybe the bones were going to burst out. But they didn’t and I says to Philip I’ll tell you what Philip you can have half. So what’s that then one shilling for Mrs Nooge, I said and sixpence for Philip. I don’t know why I called her Mrs Nooge, it just came into my head. I thought it was a good thing to call her but she didn’t. She got as red as a beetroot then. Yup, I said again, ya gotta pay the old tax Mrs Nooge, and I stood there with my thumbs hooked in my braces like a Western old timer. She got all heated up then oh yes hot and bothered. Philip didn’t know what to do he had given up the idea of investigating the pig toll tax I think he just wanted to get away altogether but I couldn’t allow that until the pig toll tax was paid, that was the rules of pig land I told them. I’m sorry I said like they always do when they’re asking you for money, if you ask me its far too much but that’s the way it is I’m afraid. It has to be collected someone has to do it ha ha. She tried to push her way past then but I got a grip of her by the sleeve of her coat and it made it all awkward for her she couldn’t see what was holding her back. Her hat had tilted sideways and there was a lemon hanging down over the brim. She tried to pull away but I had a good tight hold of the sleeve and she couldn’t manage it.

  Durn taxes, I said, ain’t fair on folks. When I looked again there was a tear in her eye but she wouldn’t please me to let it out. When I saw that I let go of her sleeve and smiled. Right, I says I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you by this time folks but remember now in future – make sure and have the pig toll tax ready. I stood there staring after them, she was walking faster than Philip trying to fix the lemon at the same time telling him to come on. When they were passing the cinema I shouted I ain’t foolin’ Mrs Nooge but I don’t know if she heard me or not. The last thing I saw was Philip turning to look back but she pulled him on ahead.

  A fellow went by and I says to him do you know what its a bad state of affairs when people won’t pay a tax to get by. Who are you he says. Brady I said.

  He was wheeling a black bike with a coat thrown over the handlebars. He stopped and rested it against a pole then dug deep in the pocket of his trousers and produced a pipe and a tin of tobacco. Brady? he says, would that be Brady of the Terrace? That’s right I says. O, he says, I see. You see what, I said. Your father was a great man one time, he says. He was one of the best musicians ever was in this town. He went to see Eddie Calvert, he says then. I said I wanted to hear no more about Eddie Calvert. You don’t like music, he says, do you think the town will win again Saturday? I told him I wanted to hear nothing about football either. You don’t think its a great thing the town won the cup? he says. No, I says. I said it was a pity they didn’t lose. I see, he says, well what’s this tax you’re talking about, you seem to care about that. He was all on for a discussion about the government and the way things had gone. There was a smell of turf fires and buttermilk off him. He tapped the bowl of his pipe against his thigh and he says which tax would this be now.

  He thought it was some outrageous tax the government had brought in and he was about to say its time they quit or they have the country destroyed when I said ah no its not the government at all. It was invented by me, and its only the people I say.

  And who are you, he says.

  Francie Pig the Toll Tax Man, I says and he shook his head and tapped the pipe again, that’s a good laugh he says.

  Laugh, I said, I don’t know where you get the idea its a good laugh. Then he said tsk tsk and you’re an awful man altogether. He puffed on the pipe. Pig Toll Tax, he says, that’s the first time I ever heard that now. He kept opening and closing his mouth over the brown stem like a fish smoking. Oh you needn’t worry your head about it I said, it has nothing to do with you. What it really should have been called was The Mrs Nugent and Nobody Else At All Tax but I didn’t tell him that. I see he says well in that case
I’ll be on my way.

  His index finger jumped off his forehead gluck now he said and away off up the town with the bike sideways and the wheels ticking.

  I went into the shop. The whine of the bacon slicer and the shopgirl licking a pencil stub racing up and down a wobbly tower of numbers on the back of a paper bag. The women were standing over by the cornflakes saying things have got very dear. Its very hard to manage now oh it is indeed do you know how much I paid for Peter’s shoes above in the shop. When they seen me coming they all stopped talking. One of them moved back and bumped against the display case. There you are ladies I said and they all went right back on their heels at the same time. What’s this? I says, the woman with three heads? When I said that they weren’t so bad. Flick – back come the smiles. Ah Francie, they said, there you are. Here I am I said. They leaned right over to me and in a soft top secret voice said how’s your mother Francie? Oh I says she’s flying she’s above in the garage and it won’t be long now before she’s home, They’re going to give her a service I says, hand me down the spanner Mike! Ha, ha, they laughed, that was a good one. Yup, says I, she has to come home shortly now to get the baking done for Uncle Alo’s party. So your Uncle Alo’s coming home! they said. Christmas Eve I said, all the way from London. Would you credit that now says Mrs Connolly with a warm little shiver, and will he be staying long? Two weeks says I. Two weeks she says and smiled I was going to say do you not believe me or something Mrs Connolly but I didn’t I had enough on my plate with Mrs Nugent without Connolly starting. He did well in London, Francie, your Uncle Alo, says the other woman. Then they all started it. Oh he did well surely he did indeed, a great big job and more luck to him its not easy in these big places like London. It is not! Mrs Connolly’d say and then someone else would say the same thing over again. It was like The History of Alo programme. But I didn’t mind. I said now you’re talking and all this. Mrs Connolly said: I saw him the last time he was home with a lovely red hankie in his breast pocket and a beautiful blue suit.

  I seen him too, he was like someone in the government or something.

  He was indeed. It takes the Bradys, they said.

  Every time, I said.

  Good man Francie, said the women.

  I’ll tell Alo to call down and see you when he comes home, I said, you can have a chat with him about London and all.

  Do that Francie, they said. I will indeed, I said. Then I said well ladies I’m afraid I can’t stay here I have to be off on my travels.

  Dear dear aren’t you a ticket Francie? they said.

  I’m away off up the town on business to do with the toll tax.

  Toll tax? I never heard tell of that now Francie. What would that be?

  Oh its invented by me, I told them. But of course Nugent won’t pay it. You might as well be trying to get blood out of a stone.

  Nugent? says Mrs Connolly, Mrs Nugent?

  Yes I said. Well, be it on her own head. She won’t be getting by so handy the next time.

  They were all ears when they heard it was to do with her.

  Getting by? But getting by where, Francie, they kept saying.

  On the footpath I said where do you think, where else would you want to get past?

  The footpath? they said.

  Yes, I said again, the footpath. You’d think the three of them had gone handicapped all of a sudden the way they were staring at me.

  I could see Mrs Connolly fiddling with her brooch and saying something out of the side of her mouth.

  Then she said: There’s no denying it Francie, you’re a rare character!

  The other two were hiding behind her now I think they must have thought I was going to stick them for a few bob tax as well.

  Oh now I said and off I went out the door as I went by the window I could see Mrs Connolly saying something and the other women nodding then raising their eyes to heaven.

  I stood on the Diamond. A tractor went farting off home to the mountains with a trailer of muck. Who’s this only Father Dominic swish swish and the creak of his polished shoes well Francis he says and how are you today, drrrumm drrrumm. By God Father that’s a cold one I said rubbing the hands real bogman style, Hmm, he says, it is indeed, are you waiting for someone?

  No, I said, I have a bit of business to do.

  Business he says, what business would that be now?

  I knew what he’d say if I told him about the Pig Toll Tax. Toll Tax hmm that’s very interesting now yes we’ll have to see if we can put a stop to that so I told him nothing. I’m waiting for Joe Purcell, I said but I wasn’t Joe was away at his uncle’s.

  Ah I see, says Father Dom with his two thumbs like dwarfs doing an old-time waltz in and out of his little black buttons.

  How’s your father? he says.

  The best I says, never better.

  Good good, he says, and your mother will be home soon?

  She will. She’ll be back on the road by Christmas.

  Christmas, why that’s wonderful news he says.

  Yes, I said Alo’s coming home.

  He wanted to hear all about Alo.

  Alo, he says. You must be proud.

  I am, I said.

  Christmas Eve you say.

  That’s right I said.

  Well with a bit of luck I’ll run into your Uncle Alo. This town should be proud of him. Your mother was telling me all about him and the great job he has over in London.

  Ten men under him, I said. Then he smiled at me and looked me up and down. When he was ready to leave he leaned right in towards me so I could see the wiry brown hairs up his nostrils like the inside of a mattress and he says would you not run on home now Francis like a good lad, mm?

  The way he said it sounded like he was nearly going to give me a few bob if I did. I should have said yes indeed I will Father if you will just be so kind as to oblige me with a small fee of five shillings Going Home Tax. But I didn’t. I just said sure Father I will indeed. But I didn’t. I went off down the street and as soon as I seen him going into the presbytery I hopskipped back round by the Newtown Road. There was a drunk lad with a ripped coat lying in the doorway of the Tower singing I wonder who’s kissing her now into a bottle. Then he’d quit for a while and say: Uh! Uh! for a while with his head nodding like a cloth doll you’d see in the back of a car. He shouted over at me: Do you know me do you, do you know me? I just stood there looking at him. I didn’t want to go home and I didn’t want to stand there. He kept on saying it with the eyes wild in his head do you know me do you? It was getting dark and when I looked up there was one of them moons you’re not sure if its there or not and the first dusty flakes of snow were starting to fall. We’re early this year they said but sure all the better. That’s right I said as I caught one of them on my tongue and licked it.

  Fuck me said Joe the face of that, it was a monkey banging a drum in the window of the fancy goods shop with a chin bigger than its head. Farmers drove off to the mountains with big blonde dolls saying mama roped to the roof racks. Tyretracks of slush webbed the streets and there was music all night long in the upstairs of the Tower. Someone was battering Nat King Cole to death and an accordion wheezing help! half strangled. There were children and a dog on the white fairgreen and the town band marched again on its fourth lap of the town as if it was condemned to wander for all eternity until all the tunes came right. It was a powder country, ice floes bobbing on the freezing water of the river.

  What will youse do now fish, said Joe, youse have had it now!

  We stuck our noses in it but there wasn’t a dartboard eye to be seen. Sorry: Gone away, signed Fish. Our twin fishing poles sat there for days without being touched.

  Back from the garage there was no holding ma, talking nineteen to the dozen whiz here one minute, there the next, it wasn’t just the floor you could see your face in but everything. One minute she was up the stairs and the next she’d be standing right beside you talking then away off into something else. She said we’d never be run down in this t
own again we’d show them we were as good as any of them. She looked into my eyes and said: We don’t want to be like the Nugents. We don’t want to be like any of them! We’ll show them – won’t we Francie? They’ll envy us yet! We’re the Bradys. Francie! The Bradys!

  I said we sure were. I was proud as punch. Everything was starting again and this time it was all going to work out right. Look look she says to me look what I bought she says its a record the best record in the world. I’ll bet you never heard a record as good as this Francie she says. What’s it called ma I says its called The Butcher Boy she says come on and we’ll dance. She put it on hiss crackle and away it went. Whee off we went around the room ma knew the words inside out. The more she’d sing the redder her face’d get. We’ll stop now ma I said but away we went again.

  I wish my baby it was born

  And smiling on its daddy’s knee

  And me poor girl to be dead and gone

  With the long green grass growing over me.

  He went upstairs and the door he broke

  He found her hanging from a rope

  He took his knife and he cut her down

 

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