Sudden Times

by Dermot Healy

Delighted, said Meg.

  Then Flo from Tubber came as a nurse. I only knew her to see at home. She was looking lovely.

  Silver John called me into the kitchen.

  He had a little phial of acid. He popped a tab into my mouth, took one himself and so did Bob and Meg.

  There you go, he said, and handed me the rest.

  I know where you live now, said Silver John.

  So what?

  Nothing.

  Well, I gave them round to the gang. The tabs were not too strong, just right. Redmond brought round meringues thinking they were savouries.

  Your brother is sweet, Meg said to me.

  Soon we were sitting in the candlelight while the gay lads in sombreros and sequin jackets danced. The man from above came down looking neat in a wide black hat and cravat. The reggae went with us. The priest kept her going. I could feel the presence of Silver John somewhere out there in the shadows but I just let it be.

  I heard that you’re a subee, said La Loo.

  You heard right, said Silver John.

  I have a nice number in Luton.

  Is that so?

  But what I’d like to be is a male nurse, explained La Loo. Do you know anyone in nursing?

  No.

  Neither do I.

  La Loo shuffled off to talk to someone else. I began having a little trouble, but I got over that. It was only a small crisis. I went out to the toilet and Scots Bob stepped in behind me.

  This mate of yours got burnt.

  That’s right.

  What did he do to deserve that?

  I don’t know. Forget it.

  Have you forgotten about it?

  No.

  Neither have I. He washed his hands and looked at his face. The Irish, he said, are too fucking Irish, don’t you agree? He looked at me. You look pale son. Feeling all right?

  I’m fine.

  I went back in and sat down. The heart was going.

  are they real, Flo?

  The trouble started between Bob and Redmond near midnight.

  There’s something wrong over there, said La Loo.

  Leave it, I said, it’ll sort itself out.

  It was happening at a great distance from me, but I knew it was happening. I heard a voice, but I didn’t obey. It was to do with Meg. She’d sat down with Redmond and they were rapping. She’d taken a shine to him. I heard them laughing. Then Bob was saying something to Meg that Redmond didn’t like. It was in the words, not what they said, but in their sound. It would stop, then start again with a shiver. You wanted it to stop.

  And it did when the food was served. The lights went on. I found a chicken wing. It took me a long time to eat that. Then I moved on to the lentils. I was picking there for hours. Flo put the burgers on. I found a bottle of white wine and drank some with the potato salad that Brendan had made.

  Are you happy? asked Flo.

  I am, I said.

  Joe was looking very carefully at a Playboy magazine that Sally, his girlfriend, had found someplace in the flat. He was stunned. He turned the pages very slowly while she watched him. The couple from Dorset politely chewed chicken at a low table by the door. My burgers went round in a bed of lettuce. Joe handed the magazine on to Brendan McGlouglin. He handed it on to La Loo. Bob lit a joint and blew a line of smoke up Meg’s nostrils. Then she blew a line up Redmond’s. The old man ate with a handkerchief tucked into the wings of his gleaming shirt. Silver John was serving in the kitchen with Flo’s apron on. It was decorated with apples and oranges.

  He was in his element.

  Jim put on Queen and Redmond and Meg danced. The lights went out. Galileo! Galileo! Galileo! sang Queen. Redmond called for Queen to be put on again.

  Can you not play something fucking else? sneered Bob.

  Take her easy, said Silver John.

  Mannion lay down full length on the carpet and poured me a thimbleful of poitín. The candles purred. I took a draw of a joint and found I was pinned to the ceiling. After a while I came back down gently and saw Flo’s breasts faintly breathing. Then I went back up again. I was a long time on the ceiling. I was in a ball above. I saw Flo away down there. Her eyes came up to the ceiling. I plummeted back in the armchair and leant forwards to touch her.

  Are they real? I asked Flo.

  What do you think?

  I launched myself on to her bosom.

  I’m sorry, I said to her.

  Then I launched myself again.

  Jesus, said Redmond, take it handy there, Ollie.

  Murphy Agus A Chairde

  I came to myself with Jim the priest beside me in an empty cold room.

  Hey man, you all right?

  What happened? Where’s Flo? I said.

  Here, came her voice from the shadows.

  Where?

  Over here.

  I can’t see you.

  I’m here, she said.

  Will you come back beside me?

  I am beside you.

  Oh.

  You’re not going to do that all over again?

  No, I said.

  Her face came very close to mine.

  It was very funny really, she said.

  Does anyone remember Daithi Locha? asked La Loo.

  I certainly do, I said.

  So do I, said Redmond. That was in that programme Murphy Agus A Chairde.

  Who was he when he was at home? asked the old man.

  He was a duck who spoke Irish, said La Loo earnestly.

  Pavarotti

  It was sometime after this that Reverend Jim put on Pavarotti singing Questa O Quella. I don’t how it happened. He must have found it among the stash of cassettes I’d taken from Marty’s mobile. All of a sudden I was sitting on the blocks on the site watching the fox stop in the clearing.

  The music was blaring out of the door.

  This darkness swooped.

  I’ll swing for you

  I could see these people moving round on a white screen. It was just before something bad is going to happen. Then these things started to hop off the walls like mushrooms. Something soft popped on my face. This goo hit Flo. I thought it was to do with the acid. Then Reverend Jim switched on the lights after something struck the stereo. The place went quiet. That’s when we heard Meg screech. I saw her crying. She was covered in mush. Beside her Scots Bob was standing with a tray of leftovers and he lobbing food.

  You cunt, said Redmond, what the fuck are you at?

  Bob laughing to himself threw the carcass of a chicken at him.

  What the fuck? shouted Redmond.

  Then everything happened in slow motion – the Dorset couple leaving, Silver John sitting perfectly still, the lads rushing. Then Redmond threw himself at Scots Bob. They fell onto the kitchen floor.

  I’ll kill ye! he shouted at Redmond.

  You’ll kill no one, I said.

  The lads helped me haul him off.

  Redmond came to his feet and stood there shaking.

  What the fuck are you at?

  Having a wee bit a’ fun.

  Do you call that fucking fun? shouted Redmond.

  Look, I said, he’ll have to go.

  Do you think so? said Silver John.

  I’m certain.

  I’d take every one of you! shouted Scots Bob.

  All right, said Silver John. They want you to go. We’ll go.

  Yeh! said Joe, Get him out of here.

  They propelled Scots Bob along the corridor.

  C’mon you! Bob shouted at Meg.

  She said nothing.

  C’mon! he screamed.

  I’m staying, she said.

  You what?

  I’m staying.

  He lunged at her and we grabbed him.

  Fucking cunts, screamed Scots Bob.

  Get out of here, I said.

  You call us fucking murderers. We’ll fucking murder you all right, and he dived at me.

  We’ll go, said Silver John catching him.

  But we’ll be back – y
ou hear me? shouted Scots Bob.

  They were trying to throw him out onto the landing.

  You hear me, Meg? he shouted. He was kicking and lunging. I caught him by the hair. I’ll do for you! he screamed at me. I caught him a tap on the ear with my fist. You hear me? he roared. I’ll swing for you! As they carried him he held onto the door jambs. Silver John just stood on the landing in his toga eyeing me. Someone kicked Bob’s fingers. He let go. They got him out and slammed the door. He began kicking it.

  Meg! he roared.

  He tore at it with his fingernails.

  MEG!

  After a while they left.

  We sat in the living room. First one window came in, then the other.

  A car drew away.

  What was all that? asked the old man.

  Maybe I should have gone with them, said Meg.

  You’ll be all right, said Redmond.

  I don’t know, she said. I’m scared.

  There’s nothing to be scared of.

  Yes, she said, there is.

  the knock

  I don’t know what time it was when the knock on the door came. We had cleaned up the flat and Mannion had nailed cardboard to the windows and lain down chatting about home. Reverend Jim was humming to himself. His mumble grew ecstatic. He stopped abruptly.

  You hear something man?

  No, I said.

  Wow!

  The foreman will keep me on, said La Loo, because I don’t mind work. I like tidying up round the airport.

  Then we were just sitting there drinking a few cans. Maybe it was five in the morning. Flo had made coffee. The dancing had long ago stopped. Redmond was talking of disappearing with Meg.

  They were planning to head off to Coventry, one thing was sure, they had to get out of that place.

  Right now, said Meg. Let’s get out of here.

  In a while.

  Now, she said. Now!

  Settle, he said.

  He was on his way to the toilet when the knock came. It was La Loo heard it first. A polite tap. He thought it might have been the gays come back for their gear. Anyway, Redmond it was opened the door. Inside the living room we were just sitting there. Then I heard a scream and a whoosh. The smell of petrol taking. I ran to the corridor. Redmond and Scots Bob were standing in flames.

  VI

  The Case History of Ollie

  26

  the head

  The father came from Coventry, the mother from Sligo. They were sitting by his bed when I entered the room and none spoke to me, except Redmond.

  Is that you, Ollie?

  It is.

  It’s tough, he said.

  I could hear the father whispering behind me. I didn’t want to turn, for fear of what I might find. He called me outside. I went with him.

  Fuck off now! he shouted.

  I came to see Redmond.

  Go away from here.

  What’s wrong with you?

  Fuck off! he said.

  I’m not going.

  He hurled himself at me.

  The angry tics began. Look, he said shaking me, he was your responsibility. You hear? He was your brother! You hear me? First Marty Kilgallon, now Redmond. What the fuck are you at?

  A nurse came down the corridor.

  I said what the fuck are you at?

  Leave it, Daddy.

  Leave it? he sneered.

  Yeh, leave it. My head is done in.

  What do you mean your head is done in? What does that mean? Your brother is in there dying and you’re thinking of your bloody head.

  I’m sorry.

  The mother opened the door and whispered: He’s asking for you, Ollie.

  after the party

  When I got back from the hospital the house and garden were ringed with blue and white tape. I stood a while outside wondering could I go in. Were the cops about? I went up the stairs. There was a black tape across our door but when I turned the key she opened. I half-expected these policemen to rush me, but there was no one.

  The place was a shambles. It smelt of petrol. In the living room the cardboard had fallen in and the wind was racing round. So I went down to the hardware shop and got two window panes to measure, some putty, and tapped them in.

  People gathered across the street.

  I pulled the curtains

  Take her handy.

  The carpet in the corridor was burnt black and soaking. His body had made a shape on the wall. I washed it down and took the carpet up the road to a skip.

  I swept the old boards and shook water on them to keep down the dust and swept them again. The smell of burning followed me. I got a box of Flash and washed the skirting. I painted the wall another coat of green. Then I got a can of floor polish and did the boards. Outside it got dark. Still the place smelt. So I went down to the late-night supermarket and got air fresheners and more incense. I collected the empty bottles and cans into a box and took them to the bottle bank. People were staring at me on the street. I started on the kitchen and found the tabs that Silver John had brought the night of the party. I broke them down to a fine powder and flushed them down the toilet. I flushed four five six seven times. I collected the broken delph in a rubbish bag and washed the dirty dishes.

  I stacked my bag of tools and left it by the front door in case I had to go anywhere in a hurry.

  I lit a fag and got my breath back, then I attacked the living room. In there was the food thrown by Scots Bob. Chilli stuck to the armchairs, meringues crushed into the rugs. I shook them out the back then beat them. There was shattered glass under the windows. I was down on my hunkers when someone knocked.

  Who is that? I asked, thinking it might be the cops.

  It’s Tim, said a voice.

  And Mark, said another.

  It was the gay bucks. I had their chairs stacked in the kitchen. In the fracas they had left behind their jackets but I had them hung up in my bedroom. They thanked me. They said how sorry they were about what had happened. I said I was cleaning up. They brought a hoover down from their room and did the carpet in the living room.

  Watch the glass, I said.

  It’s all right, Oliver, said Tim.

  No, I said, watch the shagging glass. It’ll cut through the bag.

  Right, he said.

  And be careful emptying it.

  I will.

  They did the armchairs. We took a break and I went up to their pad to eat. We had toasted cheese and wine.

  I came back down and finished the job. I lit the incense and the candles and sat down to wait. I rang the lads to say we had the flat back. The boys returned after closing time, they packed their bags and split. Everyone disappeared. I was with the ghosts. I listened to the street and heard someone say, Thank you, blossom.

  Thank you.

  the police

  At dawn I woke to find a policeman at the end of the bed.

  Geezer here in bed, he shouted.

  Another policeman came in.

  Who the fuck are you?

  Ollie Ewing.

  What are you doing here?

  I live here, I said.

  You live here?

  Yes.

  They looked at each other.

  You should not be in this apartment.

  What do you mean?

  We’re not finished here.

  Well, how was I to know?

  And he’s fucking cleaned the whole place out, said the other.

  Shit.

  Somebody’s fucked up. Somebody has fucked up badly.

  They made me get dressed and took me down to the station. I was there for hours. Eventually they let me go to see Redmond.

  fast countries

  The father was asleep with the newspaper in his lap. The mother was having a yogurt. They had both slept in the corridor the last few nights.

  Redmond lapsed in and out of consciousness.

  He was lying stock still, wrapped in a sheet of white plastic that used to slip up his arms. I fed him wate
r.

  Ollie?

  Redmond.

  I can see, he said, with my eyes closed.

  Is that right?

  No bother, he said.

  Will you stand on the chair? he asked me after a while.

  I stood on the chair by his bed, and he swivelled his head very gently and looked a long time at my shoes.

  If I come through this, he said, I’m going to buy a pair of shoes like that.

  A Thai nurse wearing black slippers shuffled in, pushing a trolley. The wings of her hat made her look both stern and amazed.

  What are you doing? she asked.

  He wanted to see his brother’s shoes, said my father.

  Oh.

  I climbed down.

  Please, you will leave now for a while, yes?

  Yes, said my mother.

  We walked the corridor.

  You read the newspapers today? asked my father.

  No.

  Well you should. You’re in them. You want to hear what they say? He stopped, opened the paper and read: IRISH DRUGS BASH ENDS IN MURDER. You like that?

  It’s not true.

  You’re in deep shit boy.

  I know that.

  The police do you any harm?

  No. They were all right.

  These, he said, are fast countries.

  the lift

  Then one day I arrived to the hospital and took the lift to the wrong floor. Every floor looked the same, so I made my way to where I thought Redmond was. Then I saw a solitary policeman standing at the far end on his own by a door.

  I passed the nurses’ station and turned right and found I was lost. I went back to ask the way and pressed the button at the desk. Just then the policeman stood aside and the door opened. Scots Bob hobbled out in his pyjamas, both arms heavily bandaged. He and the policeman came towards me. I couldn’t move. As they wheeled away left to the toilet the policeman said, You all right there, mate?

  Yeh, I’m all right, I said.

  Scots Bob suddenly saw me and stood transfixed, strangely comic in his pyjamas.

  You know each other?

  Yes, I said.

  Move along then, said the policeman.