A Billy or a Dan, or an Old Tin Can

by Paul Kelly

  “Nothing ...nothing, Wattie ... nothing really” ... Willie replied as he continued to look to the skies/”

  Wattie sniffed and twisted his nostrils.

  “You’re just jealous, like my Mammy says, because she wouldn’t dance wi’ you.”

  Willie smiled complacently and sat quietly as Wattie continued his love saga. “She’s a big lassie for her age, isn’t she Willie. I mean, she’s big in the right parts, isn’t she?” Wattie gloated and his mouth hung open. He proceeded to cup his hands across his chest and suck in his breath as his eyes searched the skies for further information on the anatomy of the female form and his nervous pupils began to meet. Maybe I could study that at University, he thought and was about to elaborate further when Willie called out and jumped up from where he was sitting.

  “Craigie Craigie, over here,” he waved his hand in the air to attract the attention of his friend.

  Craig Daniells came over to where the two were sitting and he looked pale and drawn. There was an appeal and a hope for understanding on his face as Willie whisked him to the other end of the playground and Wattie looked on, wiping his nose with great care and with his own warm thoughts of University and what he might study there.

  “Are things any better, Craigie?” Willie asked.

  “It’s kwi... kwi ... quieter,” Craigie stuttered and Willie told him to take his time and to take a deep breath before he said any more. “He’s in Edinburgh for a week or two,” he blustered in one quick sentence and his eyes were wide and dark in his ashen face.

  Willie frowned. He was genuinely concerned for his friend.

  “You must tell someone about this Craigie. You must.”

  “Wh Wh Who could I t.t.tell? Wh who would l,l,listen? They would they would believe him and n,n,no’ me.”

  Willie knew that his friend was in a bad way from the manner of his speech. He always stuttered, but never as bad as he was doing at that moment.

  Sit there and be quiet for a while, Craigie. Just nod for yes and shake yer head for no do ye understand?” Craigie nodded and bit his lip as Willie went on.

  “He’s abusing you Craigie. That’s what it’s called. Do you know that?” Craig Daniells nodded through his tears. “It’s a sin as well not for you, but for him. Do you go to confession, Craigie?”

  The boy nodded again as he sniffed and rubbed his cold hands together.

  “Maybe the priest could help you. Do you think you could tell one of the priests what you’ve told me?”

  Craigie stared at Willlie and there was fear in his eyes.

  “I’m no goin’ to ... confession,” he said slowly and deliberately, “I .w.w.w wouldn’t know wh.wh.what to say.”

  Willie looked around and he could see Wattie looking at them from a distance as they spoke closely together. He kept waving his hands and trying to attract their attention, but Willie ignored him.

  “Tell the priest that old bugger keeps touchin’ ye and he’ll understand. They’re trained for that sort of thing and if you can’t tell him, then I’ll write you a note and you can pass it through the curtain in the confessional box . . . O.K?”

  Craigie began to cry.

  “Don’t cry Craigie. I canna stand tae see anyone greetin’”

  At that moment Wattie came over to investigate.

  “Och! He’s no blubberin’ again, is he?” he asked scornfully and Willie started at him; his mouth tightened.

  “Mind your mooth, Wattie . Shut it!”

  Craigie jumped up from where was sitting beside Willie.

  “I I have to to go now. Miss Carson wants me,” he said and bolted off.

  “What’s the matter wi’ him, Willie? He’s always greetin’ . . . Big baby.”

  Willie did not answer as he sat down again beside Wattie and watched his friend, Craigie disappear into the school’s back entrance and he hoped that Miss Carson wasn’t going to tell him off for being absent. Wattie took out a chocolate bar; whipped the wrapper off it as he shoved the wrapper into his pocket with a smile.

  “My Mammy says you shouldn’t waste anything and everything can be used again in the effort to end the war. Do you think she’s right, Willie? I mean, I don’t understand how this wee wrapper could be used again, do you? Would they wrap another bar of chocolate in it again Willie, Willie?” Willie was trying to be patient and Wattie decided to change the subject. “Willie about that girl I danced with the other night ...she was well ... I don’t know really ... Willie, have you ever been in love?” Wattie drew himself up to his full height, straightened his spectacles and picked his nose in that order as he smiled contentedly to himself. Willie gave some considerable thought to the dilemma, but there was a hint of mischief in his eye as he replied.

  “Yes, I have Wattie ... I have been in love,” he said and Wattie looked at him with renewed admiration as he asked greedily.

  “Oooh! What’s it like, Willie? ...Tell me, what’s it like?” he asked, with his mouth literally drooling with crystal clear saliva.

  “I loved a woman once, Wattie . . . a real woman, you understand,” Willie went on and Wattie nodded frantically.

  “Yes Go on ...Go on Willie what then?” Willie closed his eyes and swooned dramatically as Wattie watched his every move. “What then, Willie?” he asked again, “Please tell me?”

  Willie opened his eyes slowly and held his wrist to his forehead.

  “I could have come just looking at her ...That’s what ... Ya silly bugger.” he said, but Wattie wasn’t at all disappointed or upset by the reply. He drew in his breath and opened his eyes wide as his lips formed a perfect miniature circle. Then he stuck his finger in his mouth. There was a poignant silence in the surrounding air before he withdrew his finger again and swallowed nervously.

  “Is that what it’s like Willie? Gosh! I wish I could come just lookin’ at somebody,” he muttered and stared into space, shaking his knees together violently as he contemplated this new fact of life that his friend had disclosed. Willie felt hypocritical. He wished he had thought of that phrase before Charlie had done.

  Wattie raced off to the toilets near the fir trees, finding life was getting too much for him and he would have to take all this knowledge in small doses if it was to stand him in good stead at the University. The next immediate step was in the men only domain.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rachael waited for Charlie as arranged, but she noticed he was late, as she pulled her cuff sleeve back to see what time it was on her watch. The evening was cool and the moon moved slowly behind the clouds as she looked up at the sky. It disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared again, more glowing, more silvery; more romantic than it had ever been before.

  “Waitin’ for someone?” a voice asked in the darkness. Rachael was frightened by the strange voice and she did not answer, but the voice came again. “I’ll take ye to the pictures, if ye like.”

  She still did not speak, but turned around to see a young man standing beside her. She had never seen him before.

  “No, I’m just going home,” she stammered and moved away from him, but he put his foot out to block her way.

  “No need for such a hurry ... is there?” he asked and his voice sounded hollow in the eerie darkness. She wished an Air Raid Warden would pass and shine his torch as her heart beat faster and louder and her voice seemed to abandon her in her fear. She could feel her throat becoming dry and she knew she would never be able to scream, desperately though she wanted to. She looked again at the tall figure, illuminated in the fading moonlight, with his gaunt, dark appearance as he threw back his head and laughed. She saw his eyes for a second, flashing and she did not like him, feeling sure that he meant to be trouble.

  “If you don’t stand aside, I will call the police,” she managed to stammer in her fear and hoped that the stranger would not trace the terror in
her voice.

  “Oh! Ho ... That’s a new line. Do ye fancy a policeman then?” he remarked with sarcasm as he sneered. “I’m only asking ye to go to the pictures. Surely there’s nae wrong in that?”

  “Push off Buster.” Rachael heard Charlie call out as he appeared suddenly from the shadows. “Rachael Come over here to me and don’t be frightened,” he said calmly.

  “So it’s Rachael, is it? Well that’s a nice name,” the stranger said in disdain, “Sounds like an Old Tin ...” but before he could finish his sentence Charlie had him on the ground and they were rolling about together. Rachael screamed and tried to separate them but they were determined to fight as Charlie sat across the man’s chest and hit him full across the jaw with his fist.

  “Ya bastard Ya Papish bastard,” the man screamed and Rachael could see the glint of a knife blade in the moonlight. Her response was more of a nervous reaction, rather than logic as she kicked the weapon from his hand and it spun about in circles on the pavement, before landing with a sharp crack against the wall. Charlie kept hitting out with his fists until the man, with a sudden surge, pushed him away from him and stuck his knee in his groin. Charlie groaned and sat up, clutching himself in pain and the stranger took the opportunity to run, when he knew that he had the moment of freedom.

  “Billy or a Dan or a bloody Old Tin Can,” he screamed as he ran and Rachael bent down to attend to Charlie.

  “Are you alright Charlie? Charlie, Charlie Are you alright?” she called out and he lay breathless for a moment as he continued to screw his face up in pain. “Oh! Charlie. What can I do to help?”

  He rose up, but still held his groin as he straightened his face and smiled at her.

  “Maybe if you rubbed it, that would help,” he laughed and she threw her arms around him.

  “I love you Charlie Blair ...I love you,” she said.

  “Well, don’t touch me there then, or I’ll get fits,” he giggled and pulled her towards him into a lingering kiss. She dried her tears and rested her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her and they strolled off together. The clouds rolled away and the moon came into full view again as Charlie looked up at the sky.

  “What a beautiful night,” he said, as Rachael followed his gaze to the stars.

  “Rachael?”

  “Yes Charlie?”

  “Don’t ever let me kiss you like that ever again, do you hear me?”

  She thought for a moment about his strange request as she looked down at the street and did not raise her eyes again until she asked her next question.

  “Why ever not, Charlie ...”

  “Because if you do ... I’ll have to marry you.” he said.

  Rachael took his arm in hers and wound it round her waist.

  “That’s what the girl should say, Charlie, when a boy . . .”

  “Yes Rachael?”

  She kissed his forehead and pressed her cheek to his cool face and he found her lips before she could say another word. His tongue pleaded a gentle insistence and Rachael forgot all about the incident of the evening in the wave of love that possessed her in that moment of magic.

  ***

  “You smell of a nice perfume tonight, Charlie.” Willie commented as he slid under the clean, crisp sheets and Charlie moaned with satisfaction. He did not answer, but his brother would not leave the subject and dug him firmly in the ribs. “I said you pong very nice tonight, Charlie Blair.”

  Charlie opened his eyes lazily and looked at Willie through half-closed lids before he smiled.

  “Do ye fancy me then?” he asked with a wry grin on his face and Willie sat up angrily.

  “You’ve been wi’ a lassie, haven’t ye?”

  “I’ve been wi’ a fella, most of the evening and I didn’t like that very much,”

  “What? What do ye mean?”

  “I had a fight wi’ Blackie ... you know the Protestant fella from Middleton High. He tried to push himself onto Rachael and I let him have it.”

  Charlie started to laugh and rolled over in an attempt to get back to sleep, but Willie was worried; worried about the fight ... worried about Charlie’s feelings for Rachael and worried about a lassie who liked chips.

  “Have ye been doin’ dirty things tae lassies, Charlie Blair, “ he asked as pictures formed in his mind of his handsome brother and the smell of chips lingered in his nostrils.

  Charlie fantasized for Willie’s benefit and lied with enthusiastic glee, since it was obvious he would get no rest until he settled this serious discussion, once and for all.

  “She wouldn’t be content with just a bag o’ chips tonight, Willie,” he went on.

  Willie was startled for a moment as he turned to stare at Charlie who was lying on his back with his arm behind his head. “I had to get her fish an’ chips tonight, Willie. Gosh... she was hungry. She scoffed the lot and then had a big black puddin’ as well . . . and then Willie ...”

  “Yes Charlie? Willie was apprehensive but he wanted to hear all that was to be said.

  “Then Willie ... when she had eaten the lot, she let me have her body; a full half hour’s worth of pure sexual delight, it was ... I was transported to the moon and back. I was spent with emotion and lust, Willie. I wanted more, more, more, but she resisted my male animalistic advances after that ... No ... No she begged, No more please Sir, she called out, I cannot endure this sensual torment one moment longer. Release me. Charles Aloysius Blair, she screamed ... release me this instant from your strong arms ... you ANIMAL and let me go home to my mother.”

  Willie was watching Charlie all the while he was narrating his sexual prowess as he lay with his eyes closed and a sensual grin across his tanned face.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes, my Darling,” Charlie replied with playful merriment.

  Willie looked away and bit his lip, before he turned his back on his brother and pulled the sheets high up over his head.

  “Did she eat all that black puddin’, Charlie?” he asked wearily and Charlie fell about the bed laughing.

  “Yes and then she blew up her chip bag and burst it in one, with a passionate fist ... Goodnight Willie.”

  Willie affected a loud snore.

  “Goodnight Charlie ... Charlie?”

  “Yes Willie?”

  “You’re as daft as a brush, you are.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aggie rang the bell of the Presbytery door and waited for what seemed an eternity before the housekeeper answered.

  “Can I please see Fr. O’Halloran?”

  The housekeeper was pleased to see Aggie and a large smile crossed her face.

  “Oh! Hello, Aggie How nice to see you. Come in and how are you keeping? I’ll get him for you. Family all well?”

  “Yes thank you, everybody is fine, Mrs. Dinneen,” she replied, hoping she had covered every enquiry in that one simple statement. Mrs. Dinneen was a kind woman, but she had a grass hopper mind and would enquire about a multiple of things in the one sentence and usually in the same breath. Aggie was shown into a small parlour with just a single table and two chairs, but it gleamed with its highly polished floor and immaculate if sparse surroundings. The white window ledges looked as though they had just been washed and dusted and the skirting surrounding the floor sparkled. Aggie liked the look of cleanliness that she saw and hoped one day, she too would be able to dust and polish, the House of the Lord. She had waited about five minutes when the priest appeared, blustering with an air of urgency.

  “Glad to see you again, Aggie,” he said and thrust his hand forward for the quickest of hand shakes, “I can’t stay long ... the clergy have a meeting and dinner at the Cathedral today and I have to give a speech.”

  Aggie felt awkward and out of place as she sat there with her problem, which seemed to her in that moment to be so in
significant and she thought it might be best to go home and come back another time, but Fr. O’Halloran settled himself suddenly and waited as he looked at her with his beady eyes.

  “Perhaps I should come back another time Father you being busy an’ that.”

  He seemed to shake himself out of a dream as she spoke.

  “No ...No, of course not Aggie ... We can settle this matter in a few minutes. It is about the Convent, isn’t it?” Aggie nodded nervously. “Well, I have given a lot of thought to what you told me Aggie and I think you should pray about this, very, very much. Only prayer can give you the answer you need.”

  He was not very tactful in his avoidance of his responsibility, but he was aware of that.

  “Aggie,” he went on, laboriously as if he had hoped she would have accepted his final remark and go and do as he requested. “Aggie ...you are a good girl and you’d make a splendid nun, I’m sure but you are the oldest in your family. You have no father and your mother is not very strong, I understand.” Aggie wondered where Fr. O’Halloran got all his information as he went on ... “You have the responsibility of looking after your brothers and sisters and even your mother in her latter years perhaps. There is NO SIGN ...no sign at all at the moment that God is calling you to leave home and enter a Convent.”

  He looked at Aggie and pursed his lips in his conclusion and she knew what he said was the truth well ... most of it but, it was the truth she had hoped to avoid. She fumbled in her handbag as she waited for him to continue and retrieved her handkerchief. “I have to go now Aggie. I can’t keep the clergy waiting. Come again when you like. Pleased to see you at any time. Good-bye.”

  Aggie found herself outside the Presbytery again and standing alone in the street, before she realized it. She gazed at the pavement through misty tears as she gathered her thoughts.

  “The priest is right,” she concluded, muttering her thoughts aloud to herself. “I will never become a nun and even if I could, it would not be possible for me to leave the family. They could never fend for themselves. Willie, at least, is to young and Charlie ... well, he couldn’t even boil an egg.”