by Shane Dunphy
28
Hallowe’en came, and with it the first really cold weather we’d had all year.
I was working with Dominic on a costume for our Hallowe’en party. He was to be Frankenstein’s monster, and a very fine one he would have been, too, had he not kept bursting into uncontrollable fits of giggles every time he saw his reflection.
‘I. Am. A. Monster,’ he declared every thirty seconds. ‘Shane, I’m going to scare my mammy.’
‘Dom, you’ll scare absolutely everyone,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m really scared right now.’
‘You scared o’ me, Shane?’ Dominic asked, sounding a bit unsure if this was a good thing or not.
‘It’s a nice kind of scared,’ I told him. ‘Like when you go on a roller-coaster.’
We continued working. I was trying to find a way to attach the bolts to Dominic’s muscular neck, when he blurted out:
‘I love Sukie, Shane.’
‘Yeah, she’s a lovely girl, all right.’
‘Yeah.’
There was a pause.
‘Sukie my girlfriend.’
‘I don’t think so, Dominic,’ I said.
‘She is. I gonna dance with her at the party, so I am.’
‘Good for you. Sure we’ll all have a dance, won’t we?’
‘Yeah.’
We worked on for a few moments.
‘I. Loves. Sukie.’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ I said.
‘Yeah.’
I thought no more about what Dominic had said until it was too late.
29
No Hallowe’en party is complete without ghost stories.
Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, we closed over the window curtains, lit a candle in the centre of the group, and played some eerie music on the stereo. Pumpkins had been carved in a variety of horrifying faces (actually, many of them looked simply smiley), and pictures of ghosts, ghouls, witches and monsters had been put up all over the walls.
We had all sorts of stories, most of the of the well-worn type (Elaine did the old ‘and the police told her that the threatening phone calls were coming from within the house’ story), and some fairly surreal (Glen decided to act out for us his own version of Jaws, which had to be seen to be believed).
Annie waited her turn quietly. Her mood had remained subdued in the weeks since her absence, but we all passed it off as being down to the changed dynamic of the Kelleher homestead.
‘It’s a princess, and she lives in a lovely house on a beautiful mountain,’ Annie began.
‘I like princesses,’ Sukie said.
‘The mountain her friend. The trees she would climb, and the streams play in, and the wind sang songs in her ear all the days. But the princess lonely. Sad, sometimes.’
‘Poor girl,’ Elaine said.
‘She needs magic pots and kettles and candlesticks to be her friends,’ Sukie said.
‘Or dwarves,’ Lonnie said. ‘Dwarves make good friends for princesses.’
‘Yeah, they don’t take up much room, and you can balance a board on their heads and use them as a coffee table,’ I said.
‘Have you ever read any fairy stories about guitar-playing hippies?’ Lonnie shot back. ‘No? That’s because no one would be even vaguely interested in a story like that.’
‘Princess wait for someone to come and stay with her,’ Annie continued. ‘Make her life happy.’
‘I bet it’ll be a handsome prince,’ Elaine said.
‘Or a dwarf,’ Lonnie said.
‘Or a hippy,’ I said.
‘Or a magic teapot,’ Sukie said.
‘She say prayers: “Please dear God, make me so I am same as people, so I can go and be like them in the town. If I could play with the girls in the school, I would not want to hear the singing of the stones or the talk of the pine marten in the trees.” And then one day, God answered her.’
‘Excuse me, please,’ Glen said. ‘But is there a ghost, or a monster, or a deranged killer in this story anywhere? Because I’m starting to get bored.’
‘Think of it as being a fairytale version of The Love Boat,’ Beth suggested.
‘Will there be celebrity cameo appearances from superstars of the seventies, then?’ Glen said, sounding as if he did not hold out much hope that there would be.
‘Prince come,’ Annie said. ‘Princess love him. He talk to her, and he laugh with her, and she think he a great fella.’
‘I see true love’s kiss coming,’ Sukie said.
‘Then, one day, while they up on the highest part of the mountains, he take a knife, and he stick it in her.’
‘That’s more like it,’ Glen said. ‘Nice one, Annie. I didn’t see that coming. I love a shock ending.’
‘He stick it in her heart. He stick it in her private places. He stick it in her eyes and in her face.’
‘I think that’s enough, Annie,’ Tristan said, laughing. ‘We get the message.’
‘Hurt her,’ Annie said, her voice petering out to a bare murmur. ‘Hurt her deep inside. Broke her heart, yes.’
As she finished, Annie, who had been trembling slightly, seemed to relax and go back in upon herself. But there was something in the way she sat, and looked at her feet, and seemed suddenly much smaller that made me feel uneasy. I began to feel that the subtle change in Annie was more than just about a few more round the table for dinner of an evening.
Something was wrong.
30
After work that day a few of us went out for drinks. The day’s festivities had gone off without a hitch; everyone had had a grand time and, after the bus had gone, we convened to a nearby bar.
By the end of the night, there was only myself, Beth and Millie left, and Millie had more than slightly over-indulged, and was dozing, her head against my shoulder.
‘Beth, you’re a really good care worker,’ I told her, at that stage one gets to when just the right amount of alcohol has been consumed, and the world is a wonderful place to be and everyone is your best friend. ‘I don’t think you get the credit you deserve, though. I mean, if it wasn’t for you, there wouldn’t be any Drumlin Ther’peutic Place at all, would there? Half the lads were your clients originally, weren’t they?’
‘Yeah – they were, I s’pose.’
‘So how come your name isn’t over the door same as Tristan’s is? I think you d’serve more respect. I really do.’
‘No, you’re wrong. I get respec’.’
‘From who?’
‘You respec’ me, dontcha?’
‘I do, I do, I think you’re great.’
‘Tristan respects me.’
‘Does he?’
‘Course he does.’
I made an exaggerated shrugging motion. ‘Where is he?’
‘He always goes home early. Early to bed, early to rise, tha’s what he says.’
‘And when he was goin’ he s’gested you should go home, too. Wha’s that about?’
‘Ah, he always fusses over me. It’s how he shows he cares.’
‘No, no, I don’ agree with that,’ I countered. ‘It’s controlling is what it is. It’s none of his fucking business what you do. You’re your own woman, Beth. You don’ have to do wha’ he says.’
‘But he’s my best friend. He… he loves me, and that’s why he fusses like he does.’
I drained my glass. The barman had just called time, and I motioned for one last round. I was going to have quite a sore head in the morning, and I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
‘He loves you?’
‘Yeah. Like a friend.’
‘And you love him?’
‘Yeah, but not like you think.’
I waited while our drinks were placed in front of us, and my change counted out.
‘Beth, can I have permission to speak candidly?’
She patted me on the shoulder. ‘Speak away.’
‘Okay, I will. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘See, Beth,
I heard a rumour.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes. I did. A rumour relating to your relationship with Tristan.’
‘And what did this rumour suggest?’
‘Well, apparently, you and Tristan, at one stage, were more than just good friends.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Now, I am not one to repeat idle gossip.’
‘But you just did.’
That stumped me.
‘You’re right. I’m as bad as anyone else. So, come on, let’s hear it. Did you and Tristan do the dirty?’
Beth feigned offence. ‘That’s not a question you should really ask a lady, now is it?’
‘Well, I have a very important motivation for broaching such a sensitive issue.’
‘You do?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I am absolutely dying to know.’
She broke down laughing at that, and so did I. Millie woke up momentarily, scowled at us, and went straight back to sleep. Finally, we both recovered our composure.
‘Okay, I’ll tell you the truth,’ Beth said. ‘Tristan and I did have an affair.’
Now that it was out, I wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Um… okay. Good for you. Sort of.’
‘It’s not something I’m proud of that I hurt Heddie, who had been, and continues to be, very good to me,’ Beth continued. ‘But I am not ashamed that I fell in love with Tristan, or he with me. When it happened, it was a lonely time in both of our lives. My husband had just left me, and I was very raw from it. Heddie had just taken a job in the city as a broker, and she was working horrendous hours. Tristan was volunteering at the centre, simply because we had no money to pay him, and he was working that smallholding they had, and I think he was feeling very lost and emasculated.’
‘I suppose he went from being the boss in his previous life to being second fiddle,’ I observed. ‘That can’t have been easy.’
‘I knew I was attracted to him right away. He’s a fine figure of a man, and he just swept into the centre and more or less turned everything on its head. He didn’t wait to be asked to tackle Max – he just did it, and within a matter of weeks we could see an improvement. It was the same with Dominic; he just made things better.’
‘And how did Heddie find out?’
Beth looked into what was left of her drink, and did not answer.
‘If this is too difficult, we can stop,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to put a downer on the night. We’ve had a good time, and the drink made me stupid.’
‘I told Heddie,’ she said.
‘You told her?’ I said, mildly incredulous. I had met Heddie on quite a few occasions, and found her more than a little scary. ‘Whatever for?’
‘I was staying over at their home very often. I was eating meals at their house regularly, and would be there when she got in at night. This could be eleven or twelve, and Tristan would have long gone to bed. Heddie just wanted to wind down, chat about her day. We became friends. One night I thought: “Two hours ago, I was making love to this woman’s husband.” And I couldn’t keep up the pretence any more. I think there was a large part of me that wanted just to tell somebody too.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Nothing for what felt like a lifetime. She just stared at me. Then she said: “I want you to promise that you will never sleep with him again.”’
‘Did you?’
‘I did. She said that, if we swore to keep things platonic, she would permit us to remain friends and colleagues. She said she’d know if there was anything more going on.’
‘And you kept your promise?’
‘Yes. Oh, I love him. More than I could ever say. More than I ever loved my husband. But what we have is… enough.’
‘And did Tristan have any say in this?’
‘I think that he realized that he’d been given a chance most men never get. He’d strayed, and not only been given another chance, but forgiven. His marriage got a second chance, and he was allowed get on with the life he was making for himself. We never, ever discussed it, but I’d guess he was more than happy with the arrangement.’
‘I’ll bet he was. And you still stay at their home regularly and see Heddie socially?’
‘Yes. We’re still friends.’
‘Even though she knows you screwed her husband?’
‘Even though she knows I still want to.’
PART 8
Last Night I Dreamt That
Somebody Loved Me
On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,
Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass:
In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.
I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.
I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing:
But endless love will mount in my soul;
And I shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy,
Through the countryside – as happy as if I were with a woman.
‘Sensation’ by Arthur Rimbaud
31
Shortly after Hallowe’en, it was Max’s birthday, which of course meant another party. Max’s family had agreed to bring him to the unit a little bit later than usual to give us time to put up decorations and to lay out the party food, and we were almost ready when Ricki noticed a glaring omission.
‘Where’s the rice-crispie buns?’
I set down a plate of egg-mayonnaise sandwiches (Max’s favourite) and looked at the assembled spread.
‘Umm, it looks like we don’t have any, Ricki, but I don’t think anyone will miss them. I mean, look at this lot. A feast fit for a king.’
Ricki shook her head. ‘We have to have rice-crispie buns. It’s a Drumlin tradition. Max will be really disappointed.’
‘Come on, Ricki,’ I protested. ‘There is just about every possible kind of party food here! How could he get in huff over a few measly buns?’
Tristan came over, carrying a tray of plastic cups.
‘There’s no crispie buns,’ Ricki informed him.
Tristan stopped and looked the table over.
‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘However did that happen?’
‘But look at everything else!’ I said. ‘Surely it’s not that important.’
‘Shane, crispie buns are the cornerstone of every birthday party,’ Tristan said. ‘We’ll just have to get some before Max comes in.’
‘They sell them in the supermarket in town,’ Ricki said. ‘I seen them the other day.’
‘Can you run in and get a batch?’ Tristan asked me.
‘I’m goin’ too,’ Dominic, who had just come over to see what all the fuss was about, said.
‘That’s fine, Dom,’ I said. ‘Let’s go. Max will be here in half an hour.’
The supermarket wasn’t too busy on a mid-week morning, and I made straight for the bakery section with Dominic in tow. This proved fruitless, however. No crispie buns were to be found. At Drumlin, everything we did was encouraged to be a learning experience, so I figured this was no different.
‘Dominic, you start at this end, and I’ll start at the other,’ I said. ‘If you find the crispie buns, you stay right there until I find you, okay? And I’ll do the same until you find me. Understand?’
‘Yeah,’ Dominic said, and off he went.
I went through row after row of shelves quickly but carefully, and could still not find the desired items. Swearing, and trying to remember if there was a proper bakery store nearby that might just specialize in such a mundane confection, I rounded a corner and came upon Dominic talking to a teenaged girl in the uniform of one of the shop assistants. I saw that he had three packets of what looked to be crispie buns stacked in his arms (Thank God! I thought), but there was something about the girl’s body language that gave me pause.
Perhaps I am far too innocent for my own good, but it took me several long moments to work out what I was looking at: the girl was flirting outrageously with Dominic.
He, for his part, was beaming from ear to ear, as if all his Christmases had come at once.
‘Well, you’re a big fella for sure, aren’t you?’ she was saying, placing her hand on his shoulder. ‘I bet you can really handle yourself.’
‘Yeah!’ Dominic said, giggling with delight.
‘You’ve got a lovely laugh,’ his admirer said. ‘I bet you’ve a great sense of humour.’
‘Yeah,’ Dominic agreed once more, giggling even more hysterically.
I was about to go over and extricate the poor girl from the mess she had placed herself in when Dominic did it for me.
‘My daddy pickin’ me up at four o’clock,’ he said with great seriousness.
‘Is he…?’ the girl said, suddenly beginning to wonder if this guy was quite the find she had thought.
I took the opportunity to intercede.
‘I see you got the buns, Dom,’ I said, taking his arm.
‘Her think I am big. And. Strong,’ Dominic said, giggling. ‘Her think I a fine thing.’
The poor girl was blushing the same colour as a jar of pickled beetroot.
‘Come on, Dominic,’ I said, leading him away. ‘We have a birthday party to attend.’
‘Her like me,’ Dominic continued to tell me as we drove back to Drumlin.
‘I know, Dominic,’ I said.
‘My daddy pickin’ me up at four o’clock,’ he added.
‘I know that too,’ I said.
The Wolf Boy
Part III
And so it was that a dwarf boy, coming back to the caves early the next morning with a basket of wild strawberries, found a thin, long-haired child asleep on the doorstep. The dwarves did not quite know what to do with this strange creature, and he would not speak to them. He sat in the corner, his hands over his head, and rocked on his heels. It was only when he took the knife from his pocket and attacked them with it, and Yellowhammer, a dwarf warrior, wrestled it from him (receiving a nasty bite for his troubles), that they realized who he was, for the dwarves had inscribed the blade with the names of Joseph’s parents, as was their custom when giving such things as gifts.