Tuesdays Are Just As Bad

by Cethan Leahy

  Adam thought about this. ‘No, you told me you saw a handsome boy in a well-fitting school uniform. It wasn’t until after you saw the picture of Chris that you identified who you saw. That’s awfully vague. If you are part of my imagination, then I could easily have applied that identification to what you saw.’

  Adam appeared lost in thought as we walked on. I could think of nothing to say. We passed a man standing at a bus stop, reading something off an electronic device.

  ‘Tell ya what,’ he said, ‘if you go behind that guy and can tell me what he is reading, then I will believe you are a real ghost.’

  That would have been the simple solution, but the suggestion that it was necessary to demonstrate my existence was infuriating to me and I said as much. Loudly. Repeatedly.

  ‘Okay, okay. Calm down. It was only a thought.’

  ‘I’m only a thought, you mean.’

  He walked faster and faster, as if he could get rid of me (which he can’t) and he looked at me cock-eyed for much of the trip home. On the way we stopped at the shop, the small one near his house.

  ‘Hi,’ said the bored girl at the counter.

  Adam passed her with a wave. He grabbed some milk and bread that his mother had told him to pick up on his way home.

  We joined the back of the queue in silence. I was feeling many emotions – anger, confusion, fear, betrayal. Perhaps I needed my own therapist.

  ‘Why don’t you tell him about me since you hate me so much? If you think I’m a figment of your imagination, couldn’t you just talk me away?’

  ‘I don’t want to look like a complete weirdo,’ he wrote on his phone screen, so I could read it. (This was a new technique for communication in public spaces that we had invented to avoid the appearance of Adam talking to himself.)

  ‘But if you don’t want me around, wouldn’t it be worth it?’

  ‘This is ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s the principle! You want to get rid of me.’

  ‘Don’t you want to go?’

  At that moment I wanted it more than anything, but I wanted to be the one doing the leaving, not the one being dumped. Anyway, this whole conversation had got me confused and doubting myself.

  Before I could answer he wrote, ‘Since you think it’s such a good idea, I’ll ring him now and tell him all about you.’

  He opened his contacts and found Dr Moore’s number. His hovering thumb put the panic in me. I didn’t want him to do anything hasty.

  ‘You can get rid of me but then that’d be it for the writing. You’ve only been able to write stories since I arrived. I disappear, the stories do too. You think your precious girlfriend will want to hang out with you then?’

  Adam considered that.

  ‘That’s €4.’ The bored girl sounded irritated, as if this wasn’t the first time she had said this.

  ‘Oh, yeah, sorry.’

  He pulled the change from his pocket and handed it to her. Then he put the phone back in his pocket. It may sound petty, but this victory made me feel wanted and valuable.

  Although, as it would turn out, from his perspective this was probably a poor decision.

  Twenty-Seven

  ‘How does this look?’

  It was the night of Linda’s birthday party, the All Hallow’s Eve’s Eve Eve Eve shindig, with the possibility of a sleepover. Adam had forgotten that a costume was required until he received a text message from Aoife telling him that she was having difficulty finding the right wand. So, out of a sense of panic, he used scissors and an old greying bed sheet to create a makeshift costume at the last minute. After a few snips, a fake ghost stood in the mirror’s reflection. I told him I was unimpressed and, to be honest, a little offended.

  ‘How do you know what a ghost looks like? You can’t see yourself in the mirror,’ said Adam with an attitude that was not appreciated.

  ‘I think you would have mentioned if I looked like a bedsheet.’

  ‘That’s very trusting of you,’ he said with a smile that was sassier than I liked.

  The thought that the thing I most resembled was vandalised linen concerned me, so I decided to take my mind off it and tease Adam by asking him if this special effect was from a particular movie.

  ‘Oh, umm, one of the ones with a ghost? A Christmas Carol?’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know what Christmas is.’

  ‘Is it about not scary ghosts?’

  ‘Fine,’ he said, pulling the sheet off. ‘It would be awkward anyway.’

  I was a little pleased he took my considerations on board.

  ‘Oh, I have an idea,’ he said, running to his wardrobe and pulling out a Superman T-shirt, a shirt and a suit.

  ‘You have a suit?’

  ‘It was for my cousin Nicole’s wedding,’ he said, putting it on. He left the top couple of buttons of the shirt unbuttoned so you could see the T-shirt underneath.

  ‘This kind of looks like Clark Kent mid-change into Superman, right?’ said Adam. I had to admit, it was pretty clever.

  ‘You need glasses,’ I said.

  He found some 3D glasses from the cinema in a drawer and cut out the lenses. Finally he combed his hair over for that clean-cut Superman look, then paused for a moment. His scar was on full display, for everyone to see.

  ‘You know what, I’ve nothing to hide,’ he said. ‘MUM! I’M READY!’

  ‘SURE, HONEY!’ said his chauffeur, shouting from the living room downstairs. Adam’s mother lived in a constant state of readiness when she was at home, in case her help was required in restoring her son back to the path of a normal life. This was handy for transportation purposes.

  After some confusion over directions, we arrived at Linda’s house. It was a large place hidden behind trees. It looked nice, with an earnest decay I approved of. Linda opened the door, wearing her blonde hair in a long plait and a blue dress that trailed along the floor. She held a bag of ice cubes and handed one to Adam.

  ‘Hello, Clark,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Elsa.’

  ‘Come in!’ she sang.

  Inside, the house was decorated with small lights on the walls and random lines of brightly coloured, reflective garlands sat on her parents’ bookshelves, woven between novels and photos of her family: two parents and a sister and a brother I didn’t know about. In the living room, which I presumed was the heart of the party since it contained the music and a silent black and white film playing as wallpaper, was the other guest who had arrived. It was Aoife, dressed in what I assumed was her school uniform (which looked surprisingly old-fashioned) and waving a stick.

  ‘Hi, Clark,’ said Aoife. ‘Can I get a kiss from Superman?’

  ‘Sure thing, ah …’ said Adam, struggling to place her character, ‘school goer?’

  ‘School goer? I’ll have you know I’m Hermione.’

  Adam shrugged.

  She shook her head with mock frustration and tapped Adam on the head with her stick. ‘Oh, I read your new story. It was grim as usual.’

  ‘Thank you, I think.’

  Next Douglas arrived, his hair swept up into a voluminous quiff and wearing a T-shirt that informed the reader that meat was murder.

  ‘I see the traitor is late. Not surprised; his timing was always off, just like his drumming.’

  ‘Actually, I’m already here,’ said Barry, who had customised his jumper into a Freddy Kruger costume, ‘and I brought a friend.’

  Douglas sniffed.

  ‘I said it was okay,’ said Linda, closing the door. ‘This is … sorry, I’ve completely forgotten.’

  ‘Andrew,’ said Andrew, sticking his hand out to shake Douglas’s hand.

  ‘That’s Adam. My name is of no purpose as I sincerely doubt I will speak to either you or Barry this evening,’ Douglas harrumphed and walked past the two of them.

  ‘Hi,’ said Adam sheepishly.

  ‘So go ahead to the TV room. I’ll talk to Douglas. DOUGLAS! YOU AREN’T RUINING MY PARTY.’


  ‘I CAN RUIN AS I PLEASE!’

  After Linda convinced Douglas to stop acting like such a prick, it was decided this would be the perfect time to start playing some party games. Linda was turning sixteen and she felt this was the perfect time to begin regressing to a more innocent time, so she brought out various old board games, although she did make the concession to her teenage years by introducing ‘drinking cans’ as an integral part of the rules.

  I noticed a moment of slight panic in Adam’s eyes when Douglas produced a white plastic bag filled with cans with Polish writing on them.

  ‘Work away, gang,’ said Douglas, ‘I brought lots.’

  Adam took the can given to him. He held it, testing its weight.

  ‘You’ve never drunk one of these, have you?’ I said.

  ‘Shh!’ he said to me and, with added resolve, pulled the tab on the top. Bubbles fizzled out and he sucked them up before they had a chance to dribble on the carpet. He gulped down the liquid with some surprise. Aoife saw this and laughed.

  ‘Eh, this totally isn’t the first time I’ve had alcohol,’ he said with a slight smile.

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said, not believing him for a second, ‘you’ve submitted to peer pressure.’

  ‘Tsk tsk,’ said Linda. ‘In his defence, all the cool kids are doing it.’

  ‘No doubt he will drop out of school now and join a motorcycle gang.’

  ‘Truly I am a cautionary tale,’ said Adam, who then took a big sip; too big, in fact, as he ended up coughing.

  ‘Slow down, tiger,’ said Douglas. ‘No need to try and impress us.’

  ‘Are your parents around?’ Adam said.

  ‘Nah, I’m having a family thing on my actual birthday on Tuesday. They went out for dinner and left my older brother in charge.’

  ‘Oh, is he upstairs?’

  ‘No, he went out, left me in charge.’

  ‘Ah, it’s a cool brother who believes in delegation.’

  Music I recognised from a mobile phone ad began to play in the background and Linda jumped up on a chair.

  ‘LADIES AND GENTLEMEN … and Douglas, this party has started! May the games begin!’

  We started by playing a board game called Monopoly, which may be the dullest use of money possible. Aoife had a knack for it and soon was a clear captain of industry.

  ‘I’m not playing this any more,’ said Barry. ‘I now hate capitalism.’

  ‘Don’t blame the market for your poor decisions in property investments,’ said Aoife. ‘Oh, Linda, I believe you owe me rent.’

  ‘I’m with Barry. We need to seize the means of production and kick out ye corrupt landlords.’

  ‘Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?’ said Andrew.

  ‘Top of the stairs on the left,’ said Linda.

  ‘If I’m not back in ten minutes, I leave the waterworks to Barry.’

  After Andrew got up and headed to the bathroom, Barry looked at us and raised his eyebrow. ‘So what do you think of Andrew?’

  ‘Tiresome,’ said Douglas.

  ‘He’s very nice,’ said Linda, ignoring this. ‘Where did you find him?’

  ‘The plank store?’ said Douglas.

  ‘I started talking to him online on Twitter. He could be it.’

  ‘It?’

  ‘You know, the second gay friend that the group has, so I can come out.’

  ‘Um, I don’t think he is too interested in being our friend,’ said Aoife.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  This was true. Over the course of the game, Andrew had clearly been trying to ingratiate himself with the group, but was much more attentive to Barry than the others, following his every move. At one point, he even didn’t even collect rent when Barry landed on Mayfair.

  ‘Barry, I think you may be on a date.’

  Barry’s eyes widened with fear and at the same time Douglas’s lit up with delight. It was clear Barry was unprepared for this. Andrew returned from the bathroom and Douglas leapt up.

  ‘Andrew, forgive me, I have been an outrageous cad. Please sit down. My name is Douglas.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Andrew, perhaps hopeful the night was going his way.

  ‘Everyone, I am going to the fridge. People need any top-ups? I think there are only four cans left but Barry and Andrew can share, right?’

  Andrew nodded as Barry flushed with embarrassment.

  ‘How about a different game?’ said Aoife, trying to change the subject.

  ‘How about Twister? I bet you’re flexible, Andrew.’

  ‘Eh, um, how about … Game of Life?’ said Barry.

  ‘It’s a spooky night. How about Bloody Mary?’ said Andrew. ‘See what ghosts are in the house?’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone but Adam and Linda. Andrew, suddenly sensing an invisible line had been crossed, began to retreat. ‘Actually, it’s not that spooky a night. I made a mistake. I think …’

  Linda exhaled through her nose. I was not clear about what was going on and I don’t think Adam was either.

  ‘No, no. I want to play it. We should play it. What are the rules?’

  ‘Linda, we don’t have to,’ said Aoife.

  ‘No, I want to. This is what normal teenagers do at parties. I want to play it.’

  Andrew coughed, the unwelcome centre of attention. ‘Ah, basically you stand in front of the bathroom mirror repeating the phrase Bloody Mary in the bathroom mirror. Apparently if you say it four times in a mirror, some dead girl shows up to bother you.’

  ‘We can all fit in the upstairs bathroom,’ said Linda.

  As it turns out, you could comfortably fit about twenty people in there. Linda obviously came from a well-off family. We all stared at the mirror. Everyone stood there waiting for the cue. Linda began and everyone followed.

  ‘Bloody Mary,’ said the uncertain chorus.

  ‘Bloody Mary.’

  ‘Bloody … Mary.’

  ‘Bloo …’

  Linda broke down, tears pouring down her face. I’m not sure if she said anything or was simply making inarticulate sobs of no particular words.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Aoife, ‘you don’t have to prove anything. We’re here.’

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she sobbed, I think.

  Adam placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but he didn’t know its purpose. Poor Andrew stood in the corner, terrified about what a bad turn his night had taken.

  ‘Sorry, can I have a second?’ Linda said and everyone filed out and moved back downstairs. On the way down, Adam noticed more photographs of the sister Linda had never mentioned and who hadn’t attended the party. I can guess what her name was.

  A few minutes later, Linda came back downstairs with puffy red eyes. ‘So, what do people want to do now?’

  Adam stood up. ‘I would like to suggest that we drink more cans and watch movies.’

  ‘I knew I was friends with you for a reason.’

  So the remainder of the night was spent watching horror movies, The Sixth Sense, The Conjuring and Gremlins in the TV room. Adam was sipping on his second can of beer and he was not proving to be a natural drinker. I wondered if he feared its dark powers, which we learned about in school and on TV. Either that or he just didn’t like the taste. I think it was something of a relief when Linda’s parents texted that they were coming home and there was a scramble to dispose of the evidence of underage boozing, before resuming horror watching.

  By the time the last film in the marathon, IT, had ended, everyone had cocooned themselves into sleeping bags on the TV room floor and snores were emanating from everyone except Aoife. She was wide awake and appeared to be thinking intensely about something. I wondered what she was thinking. I could easily tell what Adam had on his mind, but I spend ninety-nine per cent of my existence with him. I don’t know anything much about other people.

  Suddenly she gave a decisive nod. With her sleeping bag zipped up to her neck, she sat up and fell gently on her front. She scrunched forward li
ke a caterpillar until she reached Adam. They had been on separate sides of the room, due to a strict ‘No Hanky Panky’ rule from Linda.

  ‘Adam?’ she whispered. When he didn’t respond with more than a faint snore, she pulled her arm out of the bag and poked him in the cheek.

  ‘Mmmm?’ he mmmmed.

  ‘Are you awake?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes?’

  She smiled nervously. ‘Sorry to wake you. Did you know about Linda’s sister?’

  ‘No. No one told me.’

  ‘Yeah, it was a car accident, about four years ago.’

  ‘I’m really glad I didn’t dress as a ghost now.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s not a secret or anything, but she doesn’t like to talk about it.’

  ‘Did you wake me to talk to me about people not talking?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, no. I was thinking since you told me everything about your problems …’

  He nodded. This wasn’t quite true as he sure as shit hadn’t mentioned me. Aoife swallowed. ‘Adam, I want to talk to you about my mum soon.’

  ‘Your mum? Eh, sure.’

  ‘Great!’

  Aoife kissed him and then lay down, her sleeping bag next to his. Then they proceeded to fall asleep, the two of them snug as bugs.

  III

  Ain’t No Cure For Love

  Twenty-Eight

  The morning ritual of pulling books from lockers perplexed me a little. Not how people do it (I do understand how lockers work), but the amount of time people spend doing it. Really at most it should take you two minutes to locate your geography book. But instead, they take ages to find one thing.

  Adam was retrieving his business studies book slowly as two classmates talked next to him.

  ‘I dunno,’ said the one called Rickie.

  ‘I’m telling you, baiy, you wanna get that under control,’ said Kieran, the other one. ‘I’ve the one and I’m happy. You don’t want the two lays wrecking your head. What do you think?’

  It took Adam a couple of seconds to register that they were talking to him, including him.

  ‘Rickie here is seeing two old dolls and can’t decide which one to choose.’

  ‘Eh, whichever one you like the most?’ Adam said.