Seeing the cruelty glinting in his eyes, I felt my chin go up. I unlatched the back gate and walked down the side passage straight for the front gate. The teachers spotted Major and Rex on their leashes padding along at my side.
“Put those bloody dogs back in the yard, then get in the car!” Keeley yelled.
Both dogs were pulling on their leashes, growling deeply in their throats. I kept walking, my eyes never leaving Keeley or Rollins.
“Stop arsing around, Faul!” yelled Rollins, sounding a little nervous. It always spooked teachers when I stared them straight in the eye and remained silent. Now there were two angry German Shepherds staring at them too.
I bent down and tied the dogs’ leashes to the small wire fence that ran on either side of the path protecting Mammy’s flowers. Tremors quivered through their bodies as they growled, their eyes nailed ferociously on the two men.
Next, I made a deal with myself. If the teachers unlatched my front gate and walked inside, I’d release the dogs. My fingers rubbed the metal clips on their collars in readiness. “You’re not taking one step on my property,” I said calmly.
Rollins hesitated, but Keeley took one look at the angle of my chin and strode forward. A vein pulsed at his temple as his fingers ran over the gate for the latch. “You’re going to regret this, Faul.”
“Step inside the gate, and I’ll set the dogs on you.”
He curled his lip at me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Last chance,” I warned.
He laughed. “Even you wouldn’t be that stupid, boy.” He flung open the gate and barged inside.
Really? I thought. Who’s stupid now?
Keeley hefted his cosh higher and marched straight for me, Rollins following fast at his heels.
I stood my ground and smiled my most terrible smile. Years of abuse at their hands came flooding into my mind. It was one of those moments where I knew my life was going to change forever if I went ahead and did the forbidden.
“Both you bastards have hurt me enough in the past,” I said calmly. “Now it’s my turn. See how you like this.” I unclipped both leashes at once, and the dogs shot straight at them.
The men had no chance. The expressions on their faces were pretty comical really, almost cartoonish, as they skidded to a halt and spun on their heels. Each tried to shove past the other to avoid being left behind. Major leapt up and grabbed Keeley’s shoulder. He screamed and tried to bolt through the gate but misjudged it. He bounced off a post, with Major’s teeth still buried in his shoulder. Squeezing through at last, he dragged the huge dog with him. Meanwhile Rex had grabbed Rollins by the leg, and the man squealed like a pig being slaughtered. Rex only tightened his hold and shook his big, shaggy head like he was shaking a rat, sinking his teeth in even deeper.
Somehow both men made it to the Fiat, yanked open the doors, and threw themselves inside, slamming the doors shut behind them.
“Back!” I shouted. “Major! Rex! Heel!”
Reluctantly the dogs padded back to me, both panting heavily. I placed a hand on each dog’s head and the three of us stood there, looking at the teachers trapped inside the car. Their wide-eyed faces stared out the windows at us.
My heart was hammering away in my chest but I felt good. For the first time in my school career those sadistic bastards hadn’t been able to simply flog me as much as they wanted. I’d finally triumphed against them. What a victory! But then I glanced up the street and saw Mammy pedaling home on her bike. I froze.
She dismounted as both bastard teachers got out of the car and started shouting at her.
I hadn’t eaten all day, and now I’d used up all my energy. I sank to the ground, wondering muzzily if those two sadistic bastards would flog me in front of Mammy. If they did, I wouldn’t be able to protect myself now.
Mammy made me go back to school the next day. I didn’t want to go, of course, but Dad left me no choice. That night I’d been belted harder than I thought possible and was banished to the coal shed again. Now so sore and exhausted, I felt completely detached from everything and everyone.
What could those teachers do to me anyway when I returned to school? They could flog me raw, but they couldn’t erase the memory of me setting the dogs on them. I’d fought back and that was victory enough.
Keeley and Rollins were at school wearing bandages. I was surprised by their quietness. They glared, but otherwise ignored me. There was no more talk about repeating kindergarten. Mammy must have made an official complaint against them.
Despite my small victory, I retreated into myself even more, tuning everyone out—even my brothers. I might have won the battle, but I certainly hadn’t won the war. Life was still terrible inside that bloody school.
A week later, my brothers and I were walking home for lunch. Side by side, we swung our hurleys, laughing and squabbling as usual. We stopped in shock.
A grey van was parked outside our house and Major and Rex were inside, scrabbling at the metal walls, barking their heads off. It was the dog warden.
“Stop!” we screamed racing towards the van. Hearing us, the dogs’ went manic, their paws clawing harder, their barking getting frenetic. But before we could reach it, the van slowly pulled away from the curb.
We were desperate and ran as fast as we could until we were running alongside the driver’s window. “Let our dogs go!” we screamed at the man. Maybe he’d stop if he understood how much we loved them. He stared at us through his window before accelerating.
We ran harder and shouted our hearts out as we chased after the van, hammering on the back doors with our hurley sticks. The dogs became even more hysterical. It tore my heart listening to them trying to scratch their way out through the metal.
The van sped up and soon was gone. I stood in the middle of our road, staring after it.
John and Andrew bolted inside to ask Mammy what was happening, but I already knew. Rex and Major were going to be euthanized for attacking my teachers, and it was all my fault. This was Keeley, Rollins, and Crowe getting their revenge.
I somehow managed to drag myself inside. Mammy was in the kitchen crying. John and Andrew wouldn’t look at me. Tears were running down their cheeks.
My heart was pounding wildly. “Are they going to be put down?”
Mammy lifted her eyes to me. They were red from crying. “Yes. The warden had a council order for their destruction for being dangerous dogs,” she said quietly. She looked away.
My heart was shriveling from guilt. There was only one reason those magnificent dogs were on their way to be killed: me. Charlie Clarke’s words came back to me. “The problem with most people when it comes to animals, is they don’t think of the consequences.” It was like I was murdering Major and Rex with my own hands. Andrew and John couldn’t look at me. I’d never felt more alone in my life—or hated myself more.
Mammy was adamant. “You have to go back to class this afternoon, Marcine. Show the teachers you won’t be defeated.” I was too devastated to argue.
Keeley was gleefully awaiting my return. Looking straight at me, he clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Now class,” he said, suddenly pretending to be very somber. “I’d like us all to give a minute’s silence for the Fauls’ dogs, please.”
Numb, I watched him bow his head mockingly like he was respectfully honoring the dead. He stood there for a few minutes, his eyes peacefully closed, an evil smile on his face. He was enjoying every second of his revenge.
The class tittered. Some even mimicked him, bowing their heads, smirking. Andrew, John, and I could only look at Keeley with complete loathing.
In honor of Major and Rex, we sought our revenge right after school. We were waiting for Keeley as he pulled out of the teachers’ parking lot. There he was, smirking at us through his windshield.
“Enjoy this instead, you evil bastard,” I murmured. We decided to give him a taste of how terrified Major and Rex must have felt inside the warden’s van.
“Let’s go,” sai
d Andrew. We stepped out in front of his car. Keeley skidded to a halt. Panicking, he quickly rolled up his windows, locked the doors, and stared at us in horror.
We raised our hurley sticks and started bashing his car as hard as we could. The noise was horrific. Our sticks banged against the metal like gunshots.
“This is for killing our dogs!” I screamed.
“Come on!” yelled Andrew. “Use our hurleys to tip him over.” We jammed our sticks under the car, trying to use them as levers.
Of course, the car was too heavy. Frustrated, we started leaning against the car instead, rocking it hard from side to side. The little car creaked and groaned as it tipped in each direction. Inside Keeley was white with terror. We nearly had it over when we heard a shout.
“What the Hell’s going on here?” It was Headmaster Crowe, storming out to see what the commotion was about.
We may not have been able to save poor Major and Rex, but at least we’d taught that sadistic bully a lesson. You could mock us, but not the dogs we’d loved and respected so much.
As for Major and Rex, nothing could erase my guilt about their deaths. I’d asked them to fight my battles for me. I should have realized how much danger I was putting them in. I’d been selfish. Worse, I’d been a coward instead of a true Celtic warrior.
CHAPTER 14
Sterner Stuff
NOT A DAY WENT BY THAT I DIDN’T THINK ABOUT MAJOR and Rex and what had happened to them, but my new family of dogs constantly kept me on my toes. We were also about to get a new addition. Skitty was a new dog who moved in to the barn with a bang.
The day started ordinary enough. We were all lying around the hay in Joe Duffy’s barn listlessly. We’d moved in here almost a year ago after we finally outstayed our welcome at poor Padraig’s. Joe was another quiet Garryowen bachelor farmer, and luckily for me, he seemed half deaf too. The dogs and I were looking at another endless afternoon stretching out ahead of us. Outside the rain was hammering down on the roof.
“I’m so bored, bored, bored!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Let’s go run around in the rain?” I suggested hopefully.
Lightning flashed, thunder rolled nearby.
The dogs lowered their ears and slouched lower in the hay as if to say, No, thanks.
The next minute, a bedraggled mongrel we’d never seen before slunk up the haystack and bolted past us for the far corner. We all watched, our mouths open in shock. “Wuff!” barked Mossy in astonishment. The strange dog shook itself, then lay down behind a pile of hay out of sight. Suddenly, my dogs tore after the newcomer, outraged at being caught off-guard.
“Leave it!” I yelled. There was wild yelping and vicious barking until at last I got them apart. I sat back in the hay, holding Mossy tight in my arms. He wriggled, determined to show this uninvited gatecrasher who was top dog. “Enough!” I snapped. “Leave it.”
Mossy stopped struggling and went quiet.
I looked at the new dog cowering in the corner and my heart went out to her. She was some sort of whippet mix shivering all over. Skinny, hungry, and with big, terrified eyes.
Lightning flashed again and thunder rolled low overhead like a giant wooden ball rolling across the sky. Our candle flickered but stayed lit.
I called my dogs to me. “Come on. If we leave her alone, she might relax a little,” I said. “Maybe she’ll come over when she’s ready.” I walked back to where we’d been, sat down and relaxed, and yawned until my dogs started lying down around me in a circle.
“Let me tell you a story,” I said. “About how a warrior boy called Finn Mac Cool got great wisdom from cooking a magical salmon.”
The dogs lay down with their chins on their paws. Listening to ancient Irish stories always bored them into dozing off.
I glanced over at the new dog and caught a glimpse of her big brown eyes before she ducked down into the hay in terror again.
We barely saw this new dog for three days. She snuck out to scrounge for food when we were asleep and hid the rest of the time among piles of hay in the far corner. Since I ignored her as though she didn’t exist, my dogs decided to ignore her too. And because my point score was much higher than theirs, they followed my wishes. If I saw her brown eyes peeping over the hay at me, I’d slowly yawn and sleepily closed my eyes for a long moment. I wanted to convey to her, You’re safe here with us. Just relax. Take your time. After the third day, I said in my calmest voice, “You’re a shy one, aren’t you? I reckon we’ll call you Skitty.”
Skitty ended up staying and joining our gang, which was unusual. We’d had many new dogs pass through our barns, but most of the time they put strain on everyone. “Bit like having an uninvited guest come and crash on your couch,” I grumbled once. We had an extremely annoying mongrel called Billy for two exhausting weeks. He’d definitely overstayed his welcome. He kept trying to sniff Missy in a rude way. He did it once too often, and Red—always the knight in shining armor for his beloved Missy—chased the mannerless Billy out of the barn. We never saw him again. After similar bad experiences, I decided not to let new dogs stay more than a week. Of course, I found them fascinating to watch, but they invariably caused too much stress if they stayed under our roof for too long. “Blackie!” I’d find myself saying repeatedly. “Stop growling. Leave the new dog alone!”
According to the rules of the dog world, any new dog that arrived had to start at the bottom of the pack and socially climb its way up by winning lots of challenges. For us, this meant we had to learn each trick the new dog tossed at us. “Haven’t seen that challenge before,” I’d often find myself saying as the new dog won vital points off me.
Pleased with its victory, the dog would walk off while the others glared with loathing. I already had enough problems managing six dogs without refereeing any more drama.
Then I’d remember how my triplet brothers and I had squabbled ferociously over absolutely everything. “Yeah, okay, I get it,” I’d say with a sigh. “But can’t you dogs leave me out of it?” This was impossible. Since I was the leader of the gang, it was my job to sort out any disputes.
Surprisingly, Skitty was made of sterner stuff than I first thought. She might look like the world’s puniest coward, but she had a steely stubbornness none of my dogs could break. I soon learned she was a master manipulator and a cheeky little devil! Missy, of course, hated her. She and Skitty, the only females in our gang, were like two great Hollywood divas vying ruthlessly for the limelight.
“Look at you, Skitty,” I said to her at one point. “You’re winning most of the challenges. Only Mossy and I are beating you now.” One thing she taught me was what good actors dogs could be. Being around her I learned how to read the energy coming off dogs. It was the only way to tell if she was lying about being scared or not. Energy always tells the truth.
The other dogs had a way of discovering the truth from her: They could smell it. Since my human nose lacked their keen sense of smell, I had to pretend. “Hmmm, are you challenging me, darlin’?” I’d bend over and sharply sniff the air near her tail. Knowing that I was trying to smell her real feelings, she’d quickly jam her tail between her legs to stop the truth from coming out. She was faking fear to win lots of points. “Ha!” I’d say. “You weren’t scared, you liar. You’re just faking it.”
I became extremely gifted at reading the energy of any dog I met. Even more amazing was that I learned to read human energy, too. It was like discovering I now had the best warrior armor protecting me. At last I had the confidence to begin seeking out kids my own age again.
“Hi, how’s it going?” I’d say shyly to any kind-looking boy I met in Garryowen. Most said “hi” back and started chatting. Meeting kids through my coal delivery job was no problem because I always felt safe with Brandon at my side. It was the local kids I was most wary of—the ones I didn’t know except by sight. I’d been teased too often and without provocation. However, now that I could read human energy well, I could relax a bit.
I gradually made more fri
ends. The other members of my hurling team had always been very welcoming and there were other nice kids around the neighborhood. Brandon made a real effort to introduce me to his friends from his school.
However, it remained pretty daunting for me to meet anyone new. The longer I spent away from people, the more I wanted to stay away. Being a hermit was like a drug and my privacy had become addictive. It took the suicide of a local boy for me to realize I had to drastically change my life. The poor bastard had taken a gas camper bottle with a hose coming out of it, tied a plastic bag over his head, and laid down in a field, breathing in the noxious gas until he died.
Not long after that, another very depressed and troubled boy died sniffing glue. He passed out while sniffing the bag and when it stuck to his face, he suffocated.
When I found out about both these deaths, I sat with the dogs in the barn, shivering and wrapping my arms tight around my knees. I’d known both boys. “Oh Jesus,” I said over and over again. “Am I going to die like that? Alone in one of these barns with you lot hanging around ’til someone discovers my body?” Smelling my fear and sadness, the dogs licked my face as if to reassure me, You’re okay, Martin. You’re safe here with us. Don’t worry.
I rubbed their ears in gratitude while I shuddered in shock. “Oh God, oh God. What might have happened to me if I hadn’t met you dogs?” Deep down I knew I could have easily committed suicide or sniffed glue or taken up drugs. These wonderful dogs had saved me from all those nightmare scenarios. But the real reason I couldn’t shake my fear was because I couldn’t see any sort of a future for me. I had no education. No skills. No talent. I was just a feral street kid, and the only thing keeping my mind, heart, and soul together were these six stray dogs. “If you can see a nice future for me, now would be the time to share it,” I said grimly to them.
Desperate for some adult human advice, I sought out Sean Fitz, a merchant seaman who’d retired to Garryowen after a lifetime of travelling the world. I’d met him recently through Brandon and he was always patient enough to listen.
The Boy Who Talked to Dogs Page 17