The Gamal

by Ciarán Collins

  Anyhow, I won’t talk about candles or fire anymore I promise. Shouldn’t have even tried. I’ll just give you this picture anyhow in case you don’t have a candle.

  Fucking thing has me driven daft. My sister helped me put it on the computer so I could cut and paste it but I held the camera sideways when I was taking it. You can just turn the book on its side to look at it. Sinéad would have kept her fire controlled and graceful same as the candle if she’d the fucking chance. You have to be careful with fire isn’t it? Mind it and cherish it and respect it. Or it could burn you. Or go out. That little flame must be the only thing that still looks beautiful through tears. Gives it other dimensions or something, I dunno. OK that’s it about candles. It’s just the flicker of them isn’t it? Same as our lives. Yours and mine and everyone else’s ever. Flickering awhile.

  Anyhow so that was Sinéad in the bar. I’d have thought she was happy only for her tears. She was given a week off by Roundy to go and get herself sorted out. She used to break down crying for no obvious reason. She’d be counting change in the till or wiping the bar or reading the paper and then next thing she’d just start crying. She’d walk quickly in behind the bar or run. In the end Roundy told her she’d have to take a week off and she said she’d be fine, that there was no need and he said it was a week off or finish working there altogether. He said it made him look bad, that people might think it was him was making her cry.

  The next weekend I called up to James’ house and told him and what does he do? He starts crying as well.

  —I’m going to see her, he said.

  And he did. Next time I seen him he had a new girlfriend. A new old girlfriend. Sinéad. Could’ve cried myself when I seen them together. No more tears formula it was for Sinéad anyhow.

  Couple of weeks later when James was back for the weekend we were back in the library. Happy as ever isn’t it? They were back together. We were all back together.

  James put on ‘Solsbury Hill’ and we were sailing away again through some other place made of a million other feelings that they had no words for but everyone would recognise them.

  —What’s the most healing tune?

  —‘Spiegel im Spiegel’. Has to be.

  —Or ‘The Healing Game’.

  —Here I am again. That’s my favourite line. That and ‘Back on the Corner Again’. I love that one too. It’s like you don’t know if he’s depressed again or if he’s there again for the person who’s sad.

  —John Lennon’s ‘Love’.

  —Yeah.

  We listened for a long time to James playing the simple tune on the piano. Then Sinéad sang it.

  —In olden times you know they used to play the chord C minor to bring ease to people whose minds were troubled.

  Sinéad picked up the guitar then and started strumming ‘Madame George’. Three chords. Always returning over and over again to C. She hummed it for a bit.

  —Christ yeah, said James.

  —Have we got it?

  I went over to the boxes and started looking through the mother’s records. We got lost in ‘Madame George’ then for a while. Sinéad standing, moving a little with the music in her all different coloured stripey woolly socks, her own clothes again. Sinéad-style. James was lying on the floor. I leaned on the windowsill and watched the candlelight shine on the spinning record and I seen what the music did to Sinéad. Moved her, same as the air she set in motion moved the candle flame. Some laws isn’t it? Sometimes she sang and hummed a little along with it too. Quietly only. Just a tease.

  When it was finished she did one of her tippitoe spins and ran out down the stairs shouting,

  —Come on fatasses, who wants a game of tennis?

  James looked at me and we both smiled and got going, a bit more than happy to be alive maybe, the two of us.

  That Sunday evening James went to Dublin but the love of his life was with him. It was just for a couple of days. I seen them off. The happiest train in the world maybe. She called up to my house Wednesday evening when she came back. My mother was delighted to see her but eventually she went off to watch Coronation Street and we were able to talk. She was like an excited child all talk about how they went to the Ruby Sessions and they were talking to the MC and he said to send on a demo and he’d fix them up with a slot. She was back in work on Thursday but she was happy in herself. James was coming home at the weekend for a month for Easter.

  But then late that Saturday night Sinéad was off so we all went to The Snug. It was Racey’s birthday too. She was nineteen. But who comes into the bar only the Rascal. He came in like he was looking for someone. Said hello to the lads but he didn’t have a drink. Said he was going back to Roundy’s. Sinéad didn’t look at him but her face went red.

  Dinky’s evidence tells you what happened next. He mentions the scarf here. You know the Afghan one like the one I showed you before.

  More of Dinky’s Evidence

  —Did anybody believe Sinéad’s account of what happened?

  —Honestly? I doubt it very much.

  —I see.

  —Especially when the Little Rascal was wearing a scarf another night that James had given Sinéad as a present. The Little Rascal said she gave it to him on another night.

  —Could he not have taken it from her?

  —Well, Sinéad had told James that her mother borrowed it and lost it on a night out on the town. But Rascal said she left it in his car the Thursday night before when he collected her after work. Said he took her for a spin up the woods.

  —I see. Do you believe this? Do you believe what the Little Rascal said about the scarf?

  —Yes. No reason not to . . . she was just . . . you know, you couldn’t watch her . . . there’s no watching a girl like that.

  —What do you mean by that?

  —Well like . . . you couldn’t trust her. James couldn’t trust her. She was carrying on behind his back like.

  —How did James react to this, when he found out about it?

  —That time in the pub, is it?

  —Yes.

  —He hit him like, he hit the Little Rascal, but myself and Teesh pulled him away. Told him it wasn’t worth it. Teesh told him he probably needed to talk to Sinéad.

  —And did he?

  —Yes. He broke it off. Not there in front of everyone. Like they talked later that night and he broke it off with her.

  —I thought he’d ended the relationship previously?

  —Yeah. He did. But after that he got back with her again for a while. Until this time when he saw the scarf he gave to Sinéad on the Little Rascal.

  —Could it not have been another scarf?

  —No. It was like . . . one of them Afghan scarves. But a real thick one like, and it was faded and all. It was old like. I think it was in James’ family for a long time like.

  —I see. So let me get this straight. He breaks it off with her after he hears she had intercourse with the Little Rascal in the toilets after work in the pub one night.

  —Yeah. Yes.

  —How come he was so quick to disbelieve her? Why didn’t he believe that she was raped?

  —Well, he wanted to go straight to the gardaí that night he found out but she wouldn’t. And the way she said it in the pub anyway sounded very dodgy like . . . a bit like grasping at straws like.

  —I see. But then he got back with her, is that correct?

  —Yes. After a while like. Maybe a few months. Maybe more. Can’t really remember like to be honest.

  —OK. So he’s in a relationship with her again. For how long this time, would you say?

  —Ahm. About. I don’t know. Couple of months maybe. He was in Dublin like. Could’ve been more.

  —And all this time he was in Dublin, she remained in Ballyronan. Is that correct?

  —Yes.

  —Even though she’d promised to go to Dublin with him, is that so?

  —Yes. She stayed.

  —So then on another weekend night when James was back in Bally
ronan, in Roundy’s, he sees the Little Rascal wearing the Afghan scarf and confronted him. Is that so?

  —Yes.

  —He ended his relationship then with Sinéad finally, is that correct?

  —Yes, sir. Yes, I mean.

  —Thank you, Denis. That will be all for the moment.

  That’s pretty much how all that happened all right. I can just remember Dinky acting like he was standing up for James by telling the Little Rascal to fuck off and the Rascal only laughing back at Dinky and Dinky looking away. James stormed off out and Sinéad went out after him but she never caught up with him. She looked at me as if I could tell her what to do and I shrugged my shoulders. She went off home crying.

  I was going to go home but I wanted to see what the gossip with the rest of them was. It was a long night. Couldn’t face going into it now to be honest. I’ll give you some court transcripts instead awhile and I’ll come back to that night another time. Someone had seen me and Sinéad talking down at the river some night and this lawyer wanted to know all about it.

  —And what were you talking about?

  —Ahm. Talked about like them frying pans with the non-stick.

  —Excuse me?

  —Like . . . the ones that the rashers don’t stick to when you’re frying them. And the wipers that come on every now and again.

  —Windscreen wipers, is it?

  —Yeah . . . windscreen wipers. The ones that come on every few seconds when it’s not raining only drizzling.

  —And that’s what you spoke about? For over two hours.

  —Yeah . . . that and other stuff.

  —What other stuff did you talk about?

  —Other clever stuff.

  —Other clever stuff?

  —Yeah.

  —Like what?

  —Like the tin openers. The blue ones.

  —Blue tin openers?

  —Yeah. The new ones from the telly. Just put it on top of the tin and twist and it’s open. Way easier than the old ones.

  —I see. And did you talk about James?

  —No.

  —You answered that very quickly. Why did you say ‘No’ so quickly, Charlie? . . . Well?

  —Objection. Completely subjective.

  —Cos it’s only a small word.

  —Charles, when your council objects it means that he thinks the question Mr Cole has asked you is unfair. Do you understand that, Charlie?

  —Yeah.

  —So you don’t have to answer it unless I say you need to answer it, is that OK, Charlie?

  —Yeah.

  —Now I want the jury to disregard Charlie’s answer to that question, please. Do you all understand that? Fine. Mr Cole, I’ll ask you to deal with what Charlie says not the manner in which he says it, please.

  —Of course, Your Lordship.

  —Carry on.

  —OK, Charlie. We’re nearly done for now. What else did you talk about with Sinéad, Charlie?

  —Ahm. Nothing.

  —For two hours?

  —Yeah.

  —How could you both sit there and say nothing for over two hours? What were you doing?

  —Just listened like. To the river. Seen a few shooting stars. And the moon. It moved across the sky behind the trees. Couldn’t see it no more but you could see it in the water. The reflection of it.

  —And you left after that, did you?

  —Yeah.

  —Were you the first to leave or was it Sinéad’s idea?

  —Yeah.

  —Which is it? Was it Sinéad’s idea to leave?

  —Yeah.

  —What did she say?

  —She said would I walk her back?

  —And what did you say?

  —Yeah.

  —You said you would?

  —Yeah.

  —And did you?

  —Yeah.

  —OK. And was she upset at any stage?

  —No.

  —Was she crying at any stage during your talk?

  —No.

  —And did she seem sad?

  —No.

  —And did you talk on your way back to her house?

  —Yeah.

  —What about?

  —Only a little bit.

  —What did you talk about?

  —Toasters.

  —Toasters?

  —Yeah. Long ago they had to hold the bread in front of the fire stuck on to a stick so you wouldn’t burn your hand.

  —OK. That’s fine for the moment, Charlie.

  Two Gods

  One time I went to the church in the evening time to scare a fella into doing the right thing by giving him a sign. That’s what I thought I was doing at the time anyhow.

  Snoozie had two gods. Teesh and the Holy one. Every Sunday sure as shit the lads would go down to Roundy’s while their parents were at Mass. Since they were about fifteen. Custom to them. Same as Mass was custom to their parents. Slip off out the back of the church and go down. Mostly fellas would be in their late twenties or early thirties before moving out. Maybe that’s why they lived in the pub whenever they could. Anyhow, in all this there was one unlikely exception. Whatever is there that puts breath in us all and whatever it is that makes the world whatever it is, to our eyes or any other eyes or any such things creatures might have for seeing or sensing or feeling or gaining understanding of, whatever it is it did this, it gave Snoozie an unwavering belief that God was the thing. And that God is good. And that God is love. And that God is all powerful. And that if you prayed to God it helped. And that not going to Mass on a Sunday was a sin. And that sins could make you go to hell. Or purgatory. Or at least were no help at all in getting to heaven. All the mocking in the world from the other god in his life, Teesh, fell on deaf Christian ears.

  —Holy Joe is in, Teesh would say if he was inside in the pub before Snoozie would arrive back from Mass on Sundays.

  Funny thing then. Snoozie comes over to me at training earlier. I went down to watch the lads training with the father just to shut him up. Anyhow the father was over talking to some other fella and Snoozie comes over to me. Says he knew it was me in the church long ago. That he’d seen me. I looked at him half agog.

  —I was scared that God had brought you there, that’s all. That’s what I was scared of. That was sign enough for me.

  He stared at me looking at him slantwise.

  —I dreamed something you see. I dreamed you came up to me in the church. And it was empty except for Sinéad. Sinéad was standing behind you in the dream. Crying she was. Crying. And not just sad girly little crying. Wild angry crying it was. And the eyes on her and she looking at me. Very frightening. You put something into my hand then and I looked down and it was my scapular. When I looked up, yourself and Sinéad were gone. Next thing I’m up at the church for real and who do I see only you. I’m sorry I gave you such a fright that you knocked the statue but I was shitting it.

  His eyes were watering.

  —Shitting it I was.

  —Yeah, I said.

  —Went up there to feel God’s protection but when I seen you in his house I knew I didn’t have no protection from him until I put my story right. So next day that’s what I done. And the Lord Our God is in my heart now more than ever before. Mightn’t have much friends any more but who needs the like of Teesh for a friend anyhow. God is a friend that’ll never let you down. Ever. Remember that Gamal. God is with you always. You mightn’t know much but God has a plan even for you. It was God brought you to the church that evening to put the shits up me so I’d tell the truth in court. And it was God had me dreaming of you and Sinéad the night before. God has us all in the palm of his hand Gamal.

  —Yeah, I said.

  —I thought I was with God before but it was only after all that that I knew what it meant to walk with God. We were all part of a badness. An evil. The devil was at work in us. We can be part of a force for goodness too, can’t we?

  —Yeah, I said.

  —Dunno about you Gamal, but
I seen the Light of Christ. Have you?

  —Yeah.

  I’d heard that he was after getting involved with some funny Christian crowd. The father said it was a cult and the mother goes it’s just a different religion and the father goes it’s a cult. Snoozie was there in my ear cos he thought he had it and he went on and on and on but he was really talking to himself cos I was thinking about Dr Quinn long ago when I met him for the first time and I sitting in his office in more pain than I ever dreamed a man would ever feel. Said to me that even Our Lord needed help carrying the cross. Everyone needs help sometimes to get them through their troubles isn’t it? And God is there for someone when they’re all alone. Dr Quinn sees himself when he gets out of bed every morning as being like the lad who helped Jesus carry his cross. Imitation is what it is really isn’t it? Imitation. Except it’s mad people he’s helping. I haven’t really done nothing out in the world to help no one. Helped myself. And I never even did that too much either. I’ve a lot of making up to do for my sins. And I don’t mean for God. There’s no God for the like of me. But I’d dislike me less if I did some good for people. Same as Dr Quinn does. And all the other good people in the world.

  When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known

  That’s another cut and paste job. It’s only sixty words like so I’m not gaining a whole pile from it. It’s from the Bible. Not sure if I understand the end of it. Thought I could fit it in here cos by this point in my story I really was seeing through a glass darkly and I had to put away childish things. Or at least start finding a way out of the only world that was there for you when you were the village gamal. I didn’t want no part in it any more. Anyhow maybe the quote makes sense for this part of my story or maybe I’m only bluffing. Maybe the fella who wrote it first day was a bit of a bluffer too, even if Holy God was prompting him a bit. Wish he’d prompt me a bit. Save me robbing stuff off the fucking internet. ‘For All We Know’ sang by Nina Simone goes here then.