by Dermot Healy
Please explain, I asked.
Well your Granduncle Joejoe whispered to me; would you square the circle please and go out and see is there a fellow at the gate. Who? Someone, he said. I stood outside the door but I could see no one. I went on out onto the road for a look around and there was nobody, nothing, so I just said to myself I’d not go back into the cottage, I’d take a walk, and then I said I’d head up back to here.
Ah.
Square the circle – what does he mean by that?
He means go the full jaunt, I said.
Aye, I can understand that.
And do the impossible, said Anna.
OK.
And make sense of it all.
And then arrive to the finish, said Anna, in the walk.
Yes, I have you there, but there’s something else, isn’t there?
Is there? I asked.
What about the fellow at the gate?
That’s a different story entirely, agreed Ma.
Got ya! So, there’s no one there? he said, leaning down to pet Cnoic.
No, she answered slowly.
It’s just a saying of his – then.
Yeh, said Ma carefully.
But…he is expecting someone?
That’s right. He is. He always is.
Who?
I don’t know. Someone…he once was…maybe.
I see. Does it run in the family?
I suppose it does, said Ma, on their side, she added, as she ran the iron down the seam of a vest.
Soon after that Da came in with Desmond. They shook their coats in the hall and Da sat uncomfortably into the settee and began eyeing Gary.
Are you all right?
I am.
Well you had us moidered. Being so close to the sea and all that. And there’s a storm gathering.
I’m sorry.
The vodka got to him, said his companion, laughing.
It did, said Gary. I think I’ll go to bed.
Right, said Desmond.
They went down to the studio and I lit their way with the torch. The studio had started out as a caravan years ago and then my father had built a two roomed wooden shed round it, then he took the caravan apart. I put on the light for the men; the two beds were immaculate. They came outside and stood on the wooden porch with the dog leaping up my trouser leg. The sea was thundering. And the wind was thrashing. The Plough was over our heads and an aeroplane was ticking red-white-red up there in the dark. The horse was running in the field against the sky line while the ass stood by the wall, staring ahead.
The dog brushed up against me.
All right boss, goodnight lads.
Oiche mhaith, said Gary.
Good night, Desmond called and closed the door.
I steadied myself and found Anna at my side.
I better go.
OK.
She gave me a hug and we sat into the Fiat and I drove her home slowly in rain that began pelting in from the east.
When I got back Ma and Da were sitting on the sofa watching the box.
So you asked Mister Gary, I hear, said Da, about what happened below.
No, I didn’t.
I did, said Ma.
I thought I told Philip not to.
I did not know that, and anyway, I only mentioned it in passing.
He’s a mystery man is Gary. Well, from the moment he came in the door below he kept a beady eye on Joejoe, and was nodding at everything he said but funny enough Joejoe didn’t speak one word in his direction, started a tune and then just gave this one whisper into his ear and your man was gone like a shot. Just like that. He leaped up and said I’ll be back in a minute. We were kinda left wondering, and we were waiting but he never showed.
He filled out a final glass and cupped it and swirled it.
Joejoe must have said something shocking to him, he said and drank.
Wrong there, Da.
What do you mean?
He told him to go check the gate, said Ma.
You’re joking me.
Aye, to see if there was anyone there.
Oh fuck, he said to himself, it’s starting again. The whole thing is starting all over. We’re back with the man who does not exist.
It’s time for bed, said Ma, I think.
Next morning at eight the Animal Removal wagon arrived and drove into the meadow and hoisted the cow into the back as Da and myself watched. He whacked my shoulder and looked away, then at the gate he paid the driver, and drove on down to the site.
At nine the truck came backing up the lane. The clay piles spread like small hills. I drove the dumper over and back, and Ma spread seaweed I’d taken up from the shore. There was no sign of Joejoe so I took a walk down to the house and knocked on the door.
He was inside lying on the armchair.
Good morning…Grandda, I said. There was a storm last night.
A storm? What storm! I heard nothing.
The sand is across the fields.
Are there stones up?
No.
It was no storm. You think it was a storm. Is the barrel still under the downpipe?
Yes.
Well then. If the barrel is there then the water never rose. Last time, October 12th sixty-nine, the barrel was gone. She was off to the west. The cows were crowded on the alt. The General was floating. Storm me arse. He waved a hand at the other seat. Sit down and rest yourself.
I have to go, I’m working.
Well then don’t let me stop ya Mister Psyche.
There’s a load coming.
There always is.
What’s wrong?
The fucking midges got me, and he pulled up his trouser leg, look it! His shin was peppered with spots, he hauled his shirt to one side and there they were red wheals all over his neck, and then he tapped his forehead that was covered with bites.
Now do you see, he said, what I get for stepping outside yesterday.
I’ll ask Ma for some cream.
Say nothing. You see it starts with the itch, he said, that’s where it begins. Say not a word. The itch son is the beginning of the end.
The sick cow died.
Ah God.
I got up on my motor and spread the new loads that had arrived. At dinner time the two men ate with us, while Da ate at the site with Miss Jilly. Ma made banana curry with lamb off the mountain. Then she went down the garden with the rake, drawing the earth along the edge of the fields.
She’s hardy, said Gary.
She’s into the work, I said.
He strolled down to watch Ma.
You’re tough, he said.
You have to be tough, said Ma.
They headed off and returned over the afternoon with seven loads, then finally near nightfall they came up the lane reversing with the final pile of the day. After them came the Volkswagen dunting along. A blinding mist was blowing off the sea. The new garden looked kind of crazy. Miss Jilly walked across the soft piles of earth, and inspected the earth, much like my granduncle had done, then she sat on the seawall, patting her knees.
Mister Psyche, she said.
Yes Miss Jilly.
What are you going to set first?
Leeks, I believe, first thing next year.
Good. Very appropriate. Here, she said, and she handed me a packet of Gauloises for ‘Joejoeing’. I went into the toilet and searched for something for the itch and found a jar of cream and went down and did Joejoe’s skin while he stood staring straight ahead of him with the French cigarette aloft.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Stepping into our Finery
There were steaks on the pan.
Da rose a glass of water.
Good luck, he said.
By the fire the fluter began to play. Between tunes Gary spoke again of entering the room near the mountain where he met his mother for the first time. She spoke little, he said. When I finish this job I’m going to Berlin to start a new life.
Will you see her again, I asked.
I don’t know. I’m learning German. I enjoyed coming here, he said.
It’s a great place to get lost in, agreed Desmond.
You were wary of Joejoe last night, said my father.
No, said Gary. The fear comes down on me and I go away.
The fear of what?
I don’t know.
He’s had it all his life, said Desmond.
Did your mother say she was glad to see you when you met her? I asked.
You’re getting personal, said Ma.
Not at all, he’s not, said Gary.
Did she say she was glad? – she did. Oh she did, but that doesn’t mean she was glad. I wasn’t hers, if you see what I mean. I might be hers another time, maybe, but not that day, no. Good luck, he said.
Good luck, said Da.
I started putting on me jacket.
Are you going downtown, asked Da.
No, I don’t have to go to the shop. He has what he needs.
Good. You see since that boy left school he has taken on a full-time paid job looking after his old uncle.
Gary, said Desmond.
Yes.
Let you go and drive the young fellow down.
That’s a good idea, sure thing – do ya mind?
No, but you see I’m going to take a ride on my bike.
Well I’ll walk part of the way with you.
If you want.
You see that man Gary likes to wander, said Desmond.
I do.
I took me bike and walked Gary down the lane. The sea was clashing hard. The stars were out.
Have you a hero, he asked me.
I have.
Who?
Myself, I said.
By God.
I knocked on Joejoe’s door. Yes, came the reply, come in.
Hallo there, he said looking at us.
This man came down for the walk with me.
And why wouldn’t he. How do you do?
Fine.
I see you got back your voice.
Ah now.
Last night he lost his voice. I think something happened to you.
Not really, said Gary.
That cream worked a little Mister Psyche, but I still have the boys.
Will you not let me ask Ma?
No.
Sit down.
I’m off for a ride on me bike.
Well why don’t you sit down? he said to Gary.
Ah no, it’s all right, said Gary.
Sit down out of that.
Do and I’ll go on, I said.
Are you sure?
Stop where you are, will ya.
Good enough.
I’ll call on me way back.
And thanks for not forgetting me, said Joejoe.
I will not.
I’m gasping. Gasping.
Is there something wrong? asked Gary.
Fags, I said.
You see I have run out.
Joejoe you have not run out.
What are ya talking about?
You have fags.
What do you mean! he snarled.
Look round you.
Excuse me, I’m lost, said Joejoe, and he stood and took off his jacket and searched the pockets, took off a boot and looked into it.
I have you, I said.
Where was I, he said.
There, I said pointing at the strange box of cigarettes on the mantelpiece, and he lit up immediately, and sank into the chair.
I could not recognise the label, he explained, as he studied the blue packet.
Outside the sea fog covered everything. Even looking up there was nothing. I mind a biscuit box still in some sort of Christmas wrapping nestling by the pier of a gate. Tins of lager rustling. I headed on. Along the way I had to stop as the road ahead disappeared. The light of the bike picked out a thin fox, swinging her tail, who came out of a hedge in her best and glanced at me in passing. A light came up and went by. Then another. The mist raced into my face. I got off the bike and strolled the last few hundred yards. It was a dream walk. The sea rose up like smoke from a chimney at the blowhole. Outside the pub two tractors were parked with their engines running. A ghost was standing outside smoking.
Sweet John’s niece in the bar was reading Ireland’s Eye to one side, and doing Sudoku in a daily paper on the other.
Mick McSharry downed a half-one, his son downed another; they left. I got a packet of crisps, and headed back pushing the bike up the hill by the church. Outside Frosty’s a crowd of geese followed me. Go home, I said. Three shovels stood against an electric pole. I could find the cold on my knees. I came to Joejoe’s gate, knocked and threw open the door.
Hallo, I said.
Good man yourself.
I looked round me. Where’s your man?
He left here ages ago, just after you went.
Is that so.
Sit down there and take the weight of your feet.
I think I’ll go on up.
Whatever you want. There’s no one in talking mood this evening, no, but thank you for the fags, certainly. And if you see that man Gary tell him I send my regards. Do please, for you see he sat there, without talking. The more I spoke, the less he said.
And he left?
He left. That’s your Gary for you. He looked at me a long time, and then put a finger to his bottom lip. He never spoke a word. It unnerved me. Be careful, I said to myself. But I did not put him out. I did not. We had a few quiet words. He was where you are. Then he suddenly stood. What’s up, I said. Nothing, he said, I’ll go above. Thank you.
Did you frighten him…Granddad?
I did not. Swear to God Mister Psyche. I’ve been thinking about it. There’s been some misunderstanding. I think it was him that frightened me.
He indicated the door.
– Just out, he went –
– OK –
– But why I don’t know.
So I said to myself well he’s gone home again and headed off down the beach. There was an almighty whack of sea from the blowhole, then a loud spill breaking in the distance. The crack from the blowhole again split the air. And in the fog you were breathing in the sky. I took my time, as I climbed to where I thought home was, and then there on the bank of blue stones by the seashore I saw this shape still standing as the fog drifted by.
Hallo, I shouted. Hallo, I shouted again.
The figure turned.
You live in a wild place, Gary said. I was just thinking about you.
A few yards away from him the gravel was shifting.
Come on up, I said.
He walked behind me to the house, stopping ever so often as if he was entranced; he touched the torn leaves of the wild hollyhocks; then we went up the back field to the fence overlooking the sea, and there we stood a while with the horse and the donkey at our side. The sea was fetching over the lava rocks below. To one side sometimes the distant lights of Killybegs would appear, then to the other side the lights of Easkey would bounce into view as the fog moved on.
It was like looking out on a litany of questions – a map that would never be finished.
He touched my shoulder.
I made another mistake, Gary said. I mentioned fairies in a kinda light-hearted way. I think he took offence. He said to me: You can’t play with history.
We headed down. At the kitchen table Da and Desmond were playing Patience.
Next morning it was go, go, go. In the late afternoon the truck left for the final load of earth. Joejoe held up his hand at the gate, and hauled himself into the front to accompany the men to Dromod. An hour later they returned; and the last earth was scattered. It seemed that the two men would soon disappear out of our lives. But they started to help me spread the earth; they dug in like soldiers, as Joejoe oiled the fenders of the lorry.
Salt, he said. You have to watch the salt and then he oiled the hinges on the doors of the van.
A while later Da appeared home with the digger, and behind him came Miss Jilly in her Volkswage
n.
The two walked into the garden, and Da stood aside smiling.
You are all invited this evening for supper to Dromod House, she said. And I mean everyone, she said looking at Joejoe and the two lads.
Can I take my friend Anna?
Of course you can.
Then she took off.
We’ll have to go to town to get dressed up, said Desmond.
Well, said Da, you’re finished here.
Da paid Gary, and the two lads washed themselves under the outside tap, then drove off to town in the van and the lorry to get their gear. I rang Anna. Anna, would you like to eat out in Dromod House? You’re joking, she said. No, for real, I said. Sure thing Philip, I’ll see you. Da spread the remaining earth with the JCB, I drew buckets of seaweed from the shore, scattered them into the earth as Ma followed behind me shovelling.
I went in to see the Bird, she said. He was asking for ye all.
How is he?
The man in the next bed to him has died.
The man who did the crosswords? I asked.
Yes, she said.
I saw him in my mind’s eye searching the tightly folded newspaper. I saw him again study the clues, and suddenly write in the answers. Watched by the donkey I laid a path of sea-stone flags through the new garden while Ma set a few daffodil and snowdrops for the spring, then we all went indoors to step into our finery.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Supper
After locking up the dogs in Joejoe’s we set off in Ma’s car, and stopped for Anna who stepped into the car in a wide blue dress carrying a basket of assorted flowers.
The two men were waiting at the gate of Dromod in the van, and so we headed up the avenue together. Gary stepped out wearing his wide hat and flapping dungarees. Desmond was in a sports jacket. At the door of the big house was a man in a grey-striped suit standing beside Miss Jilly with a tray of drinks.
This is Mister Lundy, she said. He did not speak but nodded as Ma took her glass of white wine, and Da his brandy, just the one, he said; and Gary helped himself to a cold bottle of Miller’s beer with lime in the spout.
Then there was sparkling water and lemonade for myself and Anna and Desmond.
Anna presented her with the basket of flowers, and Miss Jilly bowed. It’s so kind of you to invite me, said Anna. It’s an honour, said Miss Jilly. And, finally, a glass of Malibu for Joejoe.
Miss Jilly had done her homework.
Cheers, she said, lifting a sherry in the air.