A 15A bus comes around the corner, and Charlie starts to run for the bus stop not too far from us.
‘Here’s a bus. Come on,’ he yells.
‘Are you for real?’ Liam shouts after him, but I start to run as well, dragging Danny behind me.
‘Come on,’ I call to Liam. ‘We’ve no choice.’
Luckily there’s an old aged pensioner slowly stepping onto the bus, so we reach it in time.
We’re all sitting down when Liam gets on, completely out of breath. He starts to walk down the aisle when the bus driver calls after him, ‘Hey, who’s paying?’
Liam goes back up to him, rooting in his pockets for some change.
He turns and smiles to the three of us, ‘Have any of you got any cash on you?’
Charlie starts to laugh and looks at the gym bag. I shrug my shoulders at him.
Liam takes out his wallet and hands the driver a fifty euro note.
‘I can’t change that,’ he says.
‘Okay then, keep it so,’ Liam says and walks off.
The bus takes off as Liam sits down. He looks into the gym bag again.
‘There must be a few hundred grand in there,’ he says.
‘No, there’s more,’ Charlie says.
‘Danny, look,’ I say to him and stretch the bag over for him to see inside. He turns away from the window and looks into the bag. Giving us a smile, I get the impression that he’s happy for us, as if something good has happened to the just the three of us, and not him. It’s as if he has no part in either the present or the future of it all.
‘Everything’s going to be okay, Danny,’ Charlie says to him, but he just gives Charlie a half look and goes back to staring out of the window.
The wail of a siren is heard behind us coming in the direction from where we’ve come. We all freeze. The bus pulls into the side of the kerb as the Garda car with its blue beacons flashing comes charging after us. Charlie takes a hold of the bag but I grab his arm.
The blue lights flash through the interior of the bus as it overtakes and then passes us at speed. We all let out a sigh of relief, but as we relax back into our seats, I see the bus driver looking at us in his mirror.
‘We need to get off this bus,’ I tell the others.
‘But we just got on,’ Liam protests.
‘Nick’s right,’ Charlie says, ‘look at the time.’
I stand up and, taking Danny’s arm, make my way to the front of the bus.
‘Next stop please,’ I tell the driver.
Liam yells up at me, ‘Nick, there’s a taxi rank across the road.’
As the door closes on us, I see the driver reach up to the radio controls over his head.
‘North Wall Ferries,’ Charlie tells the taxi driver as we all get in, and head back into the city.
Charlie
NICK COMES OUT of the Irish Ferries office carrying four one-way tickets to Holyhead, Wales. We make our way to the ship; our getaway and salvation. It looms large in the harbour, the tiny waves gleaming its reflection like thousands of mirrors flickering on the surface. We’re all pretty relaxed but tired, like marathon runners with the finishing line in sight. As we walk between the last few cars that are waiting to board, no one speaks. I guess we’re all dwelling on our own thoughts, dreams and regrets. We keep walking until we all end up on the upper deck of the ferry, and we all look out towards Dublin, the city and the mountains in the distance. Liam walks over to Nick and me. Danny is holding the rail with both hands and looking down into the sea, its waves lapping off the side of the ferry a hundred feet below. Liam looks deep in thought, and I think for a second he’s going to say something nostalgic about leaving.
‘Tenerife,’ he says as if answering a question, and proving me wrong. ‘That’s the best place we should go.’
‘Why not just get out of Europe altogether,’ Nick says.
‘Is Tenerife in Europe?’ he asks.
‘Jesus, we could live like kings for years in the Far East,’ I say, holding up the sports bag.
‘Thailand, that’s in the Far East, isn’t it?’ Liam says. ‘Charlie’s right. Fuck Tenerife.’
‘Wait a second, Nick says, ‘the first thing we have to think of is...’
‘I have to go back.’
We all look at each other, uncertain which one of us has said that. Then we all look at Danny, standing just outside our circle.
‘You’re what?’ I say.
‘I have to go back,’ Danny says again.
It’s the first time I’ve heard him say anything since Ricky died. His voice is weak and seems to come from somewhere in the past. A place the rest of us have already left behind. A place that we don’t want to go back to. I realise we never asked his opinion in anything we’d done since yesterday, but then again it wasn’t any of us who had shoved Ricky to the ground. With all due respect to Danny there is no fucking way I am going back willingly to face that mess we’ve left behind.
‘No, you don’t have to go back, Danny,’ Nick says.
‘I have to. I need to,’ he says with more determination this time. ‘I’m going to turn myself in. I’m sorry. It’s the right thing to do. I...’
‘The right thing to do,’ I interrupt him, ‘is to get the fuck out of here. We can all talk about guilt and what’s right and wrong when we’re sitting on a beach somewhere.’
‘I’m not saying you should come with me,’ he says.
‘Don’t fucking worry. We’re not,’ Liam says, and then turns to us for reassurance. ‘Sure we’re not?’
‘No fucking way,’ Nick says.
I get as close to Danny as possible and look him straight in the eye. ‘Danny, what the fuck did we rob the van for if you’re going to turn yourself in?’
‘I’m sorry.’
I hold the gym bag full of cash up to his face. ‘Well it’s a bit late for that now.’
Nick reaches out and takes Danny’s shoulder.
‘We’re all in this together,’ he says. ‘We’ll get through this together.’
Tears start to flood out of Danny’s eyes, but Nick keeps his hand on his shoulder and stands close to him. I can almost feel the weight of grief overcome him as he puts his hands up to his face and starts to shake. Nick grabs him by the other shoulder, but his tears are so strong that I can see them flowing through his fingers and down the outside of his hands.
We all stand there for a minute until he finally takes his hands down and wipes his face with his sleeves. He looks straight at Nick.
‘I’ve killed the father of Ruby’s baby,’ he says. ‘Do you not realise that? Do you not realise what I’ve done? I just couldn’t live with myself. That baby will never know its father because of me.’
He wipes his face again, trying to compose himself. He turns his gaze away from Nick, not looking at anyone in particular.
‘I should have stayed with Ruby,’ he says. ‘I’ve been a fucking eejit. What a waste. What a fucking waste. I’m so sorry, Ruby.’
Nick grabs him by the shoulders again. ‘Danny, don’t do this.’
‘I have to, Nick. I have to. I’m sorry.’
‘They’ll lock you up for years, fucking years,’ Liam shouts at him. ‘They’ll lock us all up. Fifteen, twenty years. Can you imagine that? Think about it.’
‘I’ve killed his dad,’ Danny repeats. ‘Do you not realise what that means? I’ve no choice now. I can’t live with the pain of it. Jesus, the guilt. Can you imagine that, Liam?’
He takes a few steps back away from us. Steps of determination.
Liam
WHAT THE FUCK is goin’ on? One minute we’re all happy as Larry, and the next Danny is breakin’ up the whole buzz of our group.
‘I’m sorry. And I don’t want any money. I won’t tell them anythin’. I promise. I promise. I have to go back now.’
As far as I’m concerned he can go back if he wants. Christ only knows the shite that’s goin’ on in his head.
Charlie walks over to him, but I think he�
��s wastin’ his time tryin’ to convince him to stay.
‘Danny, wait,’ he says to him, ‘listen to me.’
‘Charlie, don’t,’ Nick says.
‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ Danny says, ‘I just can’t live with it.’
‘Listen to me,’ Charlie says again.
‘Charlie, for fuck’s sake, this isn’t the time,’ Nick shouts. ‘Just leave it.’
‘And when is the time?’ Charlie says to Nick. ‘What the fuck am I supposed to do?’
Danny looks at Nick, and then Charlie and then at me, but I haven’t a fuckin’ clue what they’re talkin’ about.
‘You don’t have to go back,’ Charlie tells Danny.
‘I’m sorry,’ Danny says and then walks off.
‘Look,’ Charlie calls after him, ‘you didn’t kill the father.’
Danny stops and turns back around.
‘Are you crazy?’ he shouts, ‘I saw the nail in his head. I saw the cops at Nick’s place. He's dead, Charlie.’
‘No, I mean...’ Charlie says, but Nick interrupts him.
‘Charlie, don’t,’ Nick says again, but he ignores him.
‘I mean to say,’ Charlie continues. ‘I mean he wasn’t the father.’
Danny’s head jerks back as if he’s been slapped.
‘You know who the father is?’ Danny asks. ‘You knew who he was? You knew, Charlie? And you didn’t say anything?’
Danny’s face turns red, and he takes a few quick steps towards Charlie and then pushes him hard against the rail.
‘What the fuck, Charlie. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I couldn’t tell you,’ Charlie says. ‘I tried to. Honestly, I did. I tried to.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Danny screams at him. ‘Why?’
‘Because,’ Charlie almost whispers. ‘Because it’s me.’
Danny takes a few steps back as if Charlie’s just punched him.
‘Jesus, I’m so sorry Danny. I wanted to tell you. Honestly I did, but I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Danny. I’m so sorry.’
For a few seconds, I think Danny is about to faint. His head rolls backwards as if he’s searchin’ for somethin’ in the sky.
‘We were going to tell you. Ruby and me, I mean,’ Charlie says to him. ‘I wanted to tell you but Ruby said to wait. Jesus, it was only one time, Danny I swear. We were both pissed out of our minds.’
Danny’s head straightens, but he walks as if in a daze. As if he’s just been given a knockout punch. He grabs the rail of the ship and looks out at the bay and the sea.
‘She loves you, Danny,’ Charlie tells him. ‘She’s crazy about you. You could raise the kid as your own. I told her that. You still can.’
Nick doesn’t look as shocked by the news, so I’m guessin’ he already knew. Charlie continues to plead with him, but Danny remains motionless.
‘I’m so sorry, Danny,’ he says. ‘We can make this right again, I promise. I know what you’re going through. I know how you feel for what happened to Ricky. I'm the one who pushed Mike, remember? And I’m the one who stopped Nick from trying to save him. It was all on me. Always has been. I know exactly how you're feeling. I live with that feeling every fucking day and it’s shit. My life is so fucked up and I don't want you to have to go through that as well. Please, Danny. Please forgive me. Please.’
Danny continues to stare down at the sea, but he doesn’t move. Almost like a statue. None of us move. I can’t tell if he’s goin’ to turn around and beat Charlie to a pulp, or just collapse onto the deck.
‘Fuck,’ Nick calls out.
I run over to him. Looking down at the harbour, I see a barrage of Garda cars and uniformed guards and detectives runnin’ towards the ferry.
‘Oh, shit,’ I say. ‘What do we do?’
Charlie looks over at us, and Nick merely shrugs. He doesn’t come over to us. Instead, he stays talkin’ to Danny.
‘Come on, Danny. We’ll all go back now.’ He reaches out and touches Danny on the shoulder. ‘It’s all over now,’ Charlie tells him.
Danny raises his head, and looks out over Dublin Bay.
‘It’s all over now,’ Danny repeats.
He turns around to face Charlie. His red eyes stare into him. His face goes into a rage and Charlie shuts his eyes and winces as if expectin’ a punch.
Then, it’s almost like what my eyes are seein’ is a lie and my brain refuses to accept it. In one fluid movement, Danny spins around on his heels, grabs the railing and jumps over it, legs first into the sea. One second he’s there. The next he’s gone.
I feel as if the ship suddenly dropped twenty feet, and my stomach goes into my throat. I stand frozen to the spot.
Charlie, not having heard, felt or seen anything opens his eyes. Not seein’ Danny, he looks all around him and over at us. Nick is chargin’ over to him.
I break out of my daze and run to where Danny was standin’ just a few moments ago.
All three of us look over the side but see nothin’. Not even a splash.
‘No,’ Charlie screams down into the water, pullin’ at the rail with both his hands as if locked in a cage. He takes the gym bag off his shoulders and balances it on the rail, then pulls off his shoes.
‘What are you doing?’ Nick asks him.
‘We have to try to save him,’ Charlie says.
‘You’re mad,’ Nick pleads with him, ‘you'll get caught up in the currents.’
‘Yeah, well maybe I deserve to,’ Charlie says and stands up on the rail.
‘Gardaí,’ someone screams behind us. ‘Nobody move.’
Charlie looks over as more guards make their way onto the deck.
‘Hands in the air,’ a detective calls out, pointin’ a gun at us.
We all raise our hands, including Charlie. He looks down at us and we look up at him.
‘Fuck it,’ he says, and with his arms still raised, dives off the side.
We watch his body fall down the side of the ship and then disappear under the water.
Nick
EVERYTHING IN MY mind seems to fall apart and unravel. I feel dazed. My head is spinning. I can hear the guards shouting at me, and I try to focus, but my head feels so light. I grab the rail to steady myself, but my hand grabs the gym bag full of the money instead and knocks it over the side.
I almost fall after it but a hand grabs me as I watch the bag fall into the water and then vanish below the surface. Liam pulls me back and steadies me to my feet.
‘Hands in the air now.’
They must have been yelling at us for half a minute or so, because I finally gain my composure and see two guards charging at us. They dive as if they’re performing a rugby tackle. Of course, I crash to the ground with the guard on top of me.
When the other guard hits Liam, he hits him head on, and Liam barely even notices as the guard collapses at his feet unconscious, like a bird falling to the ground after smashing into a window.
When I raise my head to look up at Liam, he’s looking down at the guard. Then I see the detective, and I’m almost sure it’s the one from the car chasing us, raise his Taser gun at Liam and fire.
The Taser races across the deck with its thin electrical lead trailing behind it. Unfortunately, for him anyway, he’s too far away to have fired because the electrical points of the Taser fall short of hitting Liam, and land on the Garda at his feet.
Well, I’ve never seen any unconscious man come to life so quickly. The poor Garda jumps up and down on the deck as if having an epileptic fit.
‘Turn it off. Turn it off,’ one of the detectives calls out.
Two other detectives race towards Liam with their guns raised.
‘Get down,’ they yell, but keep their distance, as if it was Liam’s fault that the Garda is unconscious at his feet.
Liam obeys and they handcuff him. Then they pull me up and onto my feet and they handcuff me as well.
Back in the harbour they put us in separate cars. As we drive away. I watch the surface of the s
ea, hoping to see some trace of Charlie or Danny.
I pass the car that has Liam in it, and I can see he’s doing the same.
One Year
Later
July 5, Friday, 3pm.
Nick
MY DAD ONCE told me that the two best decisions he ever made in his life were giving up cigarettes and marrying my mother; and that the two things he missed most in life were smoking and being single.
I didn’t realise what he meant at the time, but I think I do now. He was trying to tell me, or possibly warn me, that I was living my life with one foot on either side of the fence. I was always thinking the road was smoother on a different path than the path I was taking, and because of that I was missing out on what was right in front of me.
For the first three months in Mountjoy Prison I cried every night, but not because I was in prison. You don’t need four walls and a locked door to be in prison. Some men I’ve met in here are freer than I ever was outside. I led a life that was walled by fears, and by the lies those fears told me.
I cried for Aoife. I cried for Danny. For Charlie. For Michael. I cried for all the messed up opportunities and all the wasted time, and it took them taking everything away from me, including my time, for it all to finally make sense to me.
I miss Aoife every day. I always did. But the difference now is that longing and that pain is a part of me, not something I’m trying to hide and bury all the time. A scar, like any physical scar. It’s surprising how much energy is required in denying to yourself and to everyone else that those scars don’t exist.
My final sentence was reduced to five years, but my lawyer said I should be out after three. That’s only two more. The time goes by pretty fast in here. One day bleeds into another, and if you don’t spend all your time watching the days, soon another month is gone.
I’m seeing a therapist, Sandra Kennedy, once a week, and she’s nice. Sometimes I barely say anything and other times she can’t shut me up. Either way, I always feel good after our sessions. I tell her about when I was a kid. When we all were. Carefree summer afternoons drinking by a lake. I wonder if the boy then, if he could see me now, would he be happy with the man he’d become. Most likely not. But I’m trying to be that man.
Surviving Michael Page 20