Bobby followed the instructions. They flew around the corner at the Sunset. Bobby looked at his watch, but they were going much faster than normal and Bobby couldn’t see the exact time.
‘Don’t look at the time. Stay focused. Keep the breathing going.’
Anto sounded like he was in the boxing club. He was brilliant at giving the right instructions. Bobby always gave it that little bit extra for him. When they turned the corner behind Croke Park, Anto told him to get a breather on the downhill stretch behind the Hogan Stand. Bobby was determined to keep up. He knew Anto could run faster.
‘I think I’m going to have to stop,’ Bobby got out, despite the fact that his lungs were burning like never before and his legs felt like jelly.
‘Concentrate on your breathing. We’re nearly there.’
Bobby knew in his head that he wasn’t going to give up. He was going to beat eight minutes for Jay. If he beat his record, Jay was going to come back fitter than ever. If he didn’t, then he didn’t know what was going to happen. Bobby came up with scenarios like this all the time. He would make deals with God that if he stopped wetting the bed, his dad would stop drinking. If he stopped wetting the bed, he would never curse again. He knew he couldn’t keep some of the promises, but he made them anyway. He always talked to God before he went to sleep. God never answered him. He was never going to stop wetting the bed. He would never be able to get married, because he would pee on his wife in the middle of the night. He normally didn’t have thoughts like this when he was running. It must be the effort he was putting in.
When they got to the off-licence on Clonliffe Road, the pain became enjoyable. No matter how sore his legs were, he always had energy left to sprint near the end. That is what would win him an Olympic gold. Bobby picked up the pace. He turned right into Ballybough Road. Just the flats to run past and they were home. He picked up the pace again. Each time, Anto stayed alongside him. One hundred yards to go. Fifty yards to go. Bobby collapsed onto the ground and could feel his knees cutting as he landed. He turned over on his back and felt for the stop button on his watch. He was breathing so heavily that he couldn’t open his eyes.
‘Try and sit up, the blood will all rush to your head,’ said Anto, hardly sounding out of breath.
Bobby followed the order and looked at his knees. Both were bleeding, but there was no pain. Bobby knew he had beaten eight minutes thirty. He was afraid to look at the watch.
‘What time did you do?’ asked Anto.
He looked at the watch.
7:59.74.
He wiped his eyes and looked again. The time didn’t change. He couldn’t believe it.
‘Seven minutes fifty-nine seconds,’ said a panting Bobby.
‘Brilliant. That was an easy tenner for you,’ said Anto, not knowing how Bobby felt inside.
‘We’ll walk for a few minutes to cool down. Let’s walk down the avenue and back again.’
Just as he said ‘the avenue’, Bobby realised that he hadn’t thought about Jay much in the previous seven minutes and fifty-nine seconds. The thoughts started coming thick and fast. What could he do to make everything better again? He started to think everything was his fault.
‘I don’t want to have to ask this question, because I trust you like you are my little brother. My dreams are about you winning that All-Ireland title, maybe even going to box in the Olympics.’
‘I want to run in the Olympics.’
‘And you can if you want. You are going to be good enough, to box or run.’
Anto leaned down and looked Bobby in the eye. He put one hand gently on his shoulder. He put the other on the side of his face. It felt warm against his bare cheek.
‘Look me in the eye… Was the video robbed?’
Bobby didn’t hesitate with an answer.
‘Exactly the way we told you. Jay got a bloody nose because of that video.’
Anto kept looking in his eyes. All Bobby could think was not to blink as Jay said it made you the loser in a staring match.
‘Go on home. I’ll call for you on the way to boxing.’
Bobby was thinking in his head that he wasn’t going boxing, but he decided to say nothing. He felt comfortable telling lies to Anto because the truth would lead to more problems.
‘Did you know Jay was using heroin?’ asked his mam.
‘No, but I knew that they did it in the unknown house.’
‘Right on our doorstep there are people using heroin.’
Laura looked at Matt in absolute disgust.
‘And our thirteen-year old son knows about it.’
‘It’s a disgrace. It’s destroying our city,’ added Matt.
‘It will destroy our family if we stay in this area.’
‘We’re not leaving,’ shouted Bobby, as if his opinion mattered.
Bobby was sitting against the H-Block wall when he saw the navy blue Nissan Bluebird pull up outside his house. Everyone knew the undercover cops drove them; it made them whatever the opposite of undercover was. Overcover, thought Bobby. One of them stood with his hand in his pockets, while the other one knocked on the door. He saw an arm reach out to shake hands but he couldn’t tell if it was his mam’s or dad’s. He thought about disappearing for a while but he knew he couldn’t run forever. He would have to tell them what had happened, even though Jay would call him a rat.
Matt didn’t have to shout for him. He saw Bobby looking his way and called him with a hand signal. He waited for him, attempting to pick him up when he was within arm’s reach. Bobby pushed him away, not wanting to be treated like a baby.
‘This is Detective McNeill and Detective Burns,’ said Matt.
McNeill stood up and offered his hand to shake. Bobby reached out and received what Anto would call a weak handshake. McNeill hardly touched his hand, just shaking the top of Bobby’s fingers. ‘Hold that hand and squeeze,’ Anto would tell them, ‘it’s a sign of strength.’
‘Firstly, Bobby, we would like to tell you that you are not in trouble. Somebody gave Jason heroin,’ McNeill announced, acting concerned.
‘Jay.’
‘Sorry, Jay. We are not sure where he got it. We thought that, as you were his best friend, he might have said something to you.’
Bobby could see that McNeill was going to do all the talking and Burns was going to stay quiet and take notes.
‘Like what?’
‘Something to do with drugs or knowing someone who was selling heroin.’
‘I think I know where he got it.’
Bobby knew Jay would never have touched the stuff if it wasn’t for Willo Brown and the unknown house.
‘What did you say?’
‘I think I know where he got it.’
‘Where?’
‘Number six, Sackville Avenue. We call it the unknown house.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I found Jay in there.’
Detective Burns was scribbling furiously.
‘Keep talking, Bobby.’
‘What else can I say?’
‘When did you find him?’
‘I found him the other day. All the junkies use it.’
‘What junkies?’
Bobby could see Burns was struggling to keep up with the pace. Like Jay on their last run to the swimming pool.
‘Willo and Git Brown. They made him do it, it’s their fault.’
‘How many times was he in the house?’
‘I found Jay there once before last night. He was passed out on the floor. I brought him home and made sure he was OK.’
‘How did you even think to look there?’
‘Willo told me he was there.’
‘And this Willo fella, where does he live?’
‘He lives in the flats, but he’s always in the unknown house.’
‘And Jay told you that Willo gave him heroin?’
‘Yeah. Willo and Git.’
The two detectives went outside to talk. Bobby could feel his mam and dad seething. Bobby knew he
had just made their minds up about leaving Ballybough.
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ asked his mother, who had a look of sadness and anger all in one stare.
‘I didn’t want him getting into trouble.’
‘He was already in trouble. You could have saved him from getting into more trouble.’
Bobby knew he was partly responsible. He could have done something, but he thought he was doing the right thing by staying quiet. Detective McNeill came back in to thank Bobby and his parents.
‘We’ll be back to talk to you again.’
‘Thank you, detective,’ said his mam.
They managed a smile at each other.
BOY, 13, IN A COMA AFTER HEROIN OVERDOSE
Bobby knew that when somebody was in a coma it meant they were really sick. He never expected that Jay’s story would be on the front of the Evening Press, because he didn’t realise that Jay was really sick. Anto had said he would be all right, and he was sure his mam had said that Jay would be all right. The story didn’t mention Jay’s name, it just called him a boy from the inner city. Anto convinced Matt that it would be best if Bobby did some extra training in the club to take his mind off things. Anto gave him one-on-one coaching, refusing to let him spar before his big fight. Normally, he would be nervous leading up to a club fight. He expected to be ten times as nervous leading up to the biggest fight of his life, but he couldn’t get nervous as much as he tried. There was something huge missing from the build-up.
Going to training with Anto was not the same as going with Jay. There was never a moment of silence between Bobby and his best friend, they just talked and talked. Anto walked with him and hardly said a thing. Just the odd comment that required short answers from Bobby. It wasn’t a real conversation. Bobby didn’t know how Anto felt.
‘The police called to my house,’ said Bobby, surprising Anto with the comment.
‘The police. What did they want to know?’
‘How Jay got the heroin.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told them the truth. He went to the unknown house and Willo gave it to him.’
‘I have been searching high and low for Willo, but he seems to have disappeared. I will find him though, and when I do…’
‘Will he get in trouble?’
‘He’ll get in more trouble if I find him before the cops.’
Bobby wanted to see Jay in hospital. His mam didn’t think it was a good idea. She made up excuses, none of which Bobby believed. He pleaded with his dad. Sometimes he was easier to convince.
‘If you don’t let me go I’m not fighting in the final.’
‘It will be your loss if you don’t fight.’
‘You’ll get a fright if you see him hooked up to all the machines.’
‘It’s better than not seeing him at all.’
Temple Street Hospital was only a few hundred yards from Croke Park. When the sun shone, Ballybough looked like the most beautiful place on earth. The swans in the canal looked whiter than white. Bobby’s mam had never once walked down the canal in fifteen years of living in Ballybough. She was surprised by the calm beauty of the water. Bobby explained that there were very few fish in that section of the canal. He pointed out the exact spots where fish were likely to be. A large sycamore tree hung out over the water, always looking like it was about to fall.
‘All the big fish hide in the shadow,’ explained Bobby.
‘To get out of the hot sun?’
‘No mam, to get away from fishermen’s hooks.’
Bobby loved making people laugh. He knew Jay was going to be asleep but he was still going to make him laugh.
The entrance to Temple Street Hospital was like the front door of a house. The old Georgian building was more modern inside than Bobby imagined. It had the immediate smell of hospital. There were signs for the different wards. Each one was named after a saint. Jay was in St Mark’s.
There was a big statue of Jesus in a glass cabinet on the wall. He had a long, red, velvety cape on. Bobby thought he looked more like a superhero.
‘Dad, he looks more like Superman.’
The ward sister looked straight down her pointy nose at Bobby.
‘That is St Mark.’
She pointed to a plaque on the wall. It had a description of St Mark that Bobby didn’t want to read.
‘Where is Jay?’
She led them down a short corridor. There were rooms with six beds and rooms with four beds. Jay was in a much smaller room. It had a window that looked directly at the large flats across the road. That was the best view Jay could have wished for. Bobby was a bit tentative. He didn’t expect the number of machines and wires, even though he knew they would be there. There was a constant beeping noise. Jay had tubes in both nostrils. His hands were down by his side. Laura held one of them and just looked at him. Bobby put his hand on Jay’s arm. He had light blue pyjamas on.
‘Thanks for coming, Bobby,’ whispered Bernie, as she made her way to the side of the bed.
She held Jay’s hand and put her arm around Bobby.
‘They said he is stable, which is good news, I suppose.’
‘It is, Bernie, it is.’
Laura moved to embrace Bernie. Bobby put his hand on Jay’s face.
‘I’ll be back with the All-Ireland trophy,’ Bobby whispered at him.
CHAPTER 13
Bobby had a feeling that he was going to win the fight. His dad told him just to concentrate on relaxing.
‘Win the fight and Jay will be OK.’
He believed his dad.
Laura had never been to see Bobby box. She hated it and it took months of protesting from Bobby for her even to allow him to go training.
‘Why in God’s name would I want to see someone punching my son in the head?’
‘You’ll be watching me avoiding the punches.’
‘I don’t want to see you punching anyone in the head either.’
She just didn’t get boxing. It disgusted her. She couldn’t even watch Barry McGuigan.
To get to the dressing-rooms in the National Boxing Stadium, Bobby had to walk through the main auditorium, where the ring was. He couldn’t believe the number of people in the crowd. He knew the stadium capacity was eight thousand. It was about a quarter full. The finals spread out over two days. It started with the lower weights and moved up to the heavier boxers. Bobby looked around the changing-room for his opponent. Anto wanted him to get in the zone. There was no talking while Anto strapped up Bobby’s hands. He massaged Bobby’s legs to get them loose, then put Deep Heat on them. Bobby loved the smell, even though it stung the inside of his nostrils. Anto took two red vests and two blue vests out of his bag. They had St Francis Boxing Club written on the back. Bobby turned them around to see the front. Two had the initials JMcC on them and two had BR on them. Seeing the initials gave Bobby the nervous knot in his stomach that he thought would have been there all week.
‘I’m wearing Jay’s vest.’
Anto smiled, knowing that was the decision Bobby was going to make.
‘You’re fighting for Jay tonight.’
Bobby didn’t answer him.
‘Stay calm and focused.’
Bobby nodded. He was in the zone and Anto knew it. He talked to him but Bobby didn’t really hear what he was saying. Bobby knew what he had to do. He repeated Anto’s words over and over in his mind. ‘Stay calm and focused.’
‘Do you know what you’re going to do?’ asked Anto.
Bobby nodded again. Defend and counter-punch. That’s what he would do for the first minute. Look for his opponent’s weaknesses.
‘Ryan in the blue corner, fighting Wilson in the red corner. Boxers to the centre of the ring please.’
Bobby stared into his opponent’s eyes. He didn’t see any fear. Bobby walked forwards with his hands held high. Wilson threw a flurry of punches at Bobby’s head, none of which were able to penetrate Bobby’s high guard. Bobby bounced on his toes and moved from side to side. H
e threw a left jab that connected with Wilson’s nose. Wilson retaliated with strong lefts and rights that stunned Bobby. He held on to his opponent’s arms to get a breather. He knew he had lost the first round. He would have to win the next two to be victorious.
Anto was calm in the corner. He had his routine. Gumshield out. Water in. Three small slugs. First one, gargle it and spit it out. Next two, drink them.
‘You need to start throwing more punches. You’re one round down. Don’t let him throw the first punch. Are you OK?’
Bobby felt a bit sluggish. There was no adrenaline driving him on.
‘He’s very strong.’
‘So are you. But not if you don’t try and hit him.’
Anto put Bobby’s gumshield in and slapped him on the side of the headguard.
‘Do it for Jay.’
Bobby walked out with determination. Only two rounds left. He was going to throw as many punches as he physically could. The bell went for the start of round two, and as he walked forwards, he could see it was Jay walking towards him. He froze and dropped his hands. Wilson hit him harder than he had been ever hit in his life. His head spun as he fell to the canvas. When he got to his feet he could hear the referee saying ‘five, six, seven, eight’.
‘Are you OK to box on?’
‘Yes,’ said Bobby, as he held his gloves up to show he was OK.
He walked forward and saw Wilson. He threw a few punches, none of which landed. Wilson sensed he had the fight won. He pushed Bobby away with both gloves, landing a few punches just as the bell sounded.
Anto had a look of disappointment Bobby could understand. He was about to lose without giving it his best. Anto was always able to get the best out of Bobby. Now Bobby was going to let him down. All the years of training, to lose in the final.
‘Sit down and listen.’
Bobby sat down and took a deep breath. In his nose and out his mouth.
‘You are lucky to be able to fight. Think about what Jay would do to be here now. Go out there and knock him out. He is coming in with his left hand held low. Fake to throw a left, and throw a big right hand.’
‘A big right hand.’
Bobby pictured the punch in his head. A knockout was now his only chance of winning. He stood up from his seat and shook his hands down by his side. His arms were getting tired. He walked to the centre of the ring. Jay walked towards him again.
The Runners Page 10