A Thousand Roads Home

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘He is a man of many contradictions,’ Ruth said.

  They looked at her with interest. Ruth continued, ‘Well, he curses a lot, yet he is also polite, well mannered. He looks lazy, yet he is not afraid to get his hands dirty. And despite his tendency to rant and rave about the injustices of the world, his arguments and views are valid and well informed.’

  ‘Wow,’ Aisling said. ‘You really nailed him!’

  Ava made a pot of tea and poured Ruth a glass of milk.

  ‘Who would have thought cleaning could be so much fun?’ Aisling said.

  ‘Kian is like a one-man stand-up show,’ Ava said.

  ‘He made me laugh occasionally,’ Ruth said.

  Kian walked in at that moment, ‘Ladies, ladies, I know you are talking about your favourite subject, me, but would you ever pour this hard-working man a drink?’

  Ava did the honours, then said, ‘I’ve texted Brian and he’s going to get our books from his mam’s house on the way home from work. I’ll start sorting the books from the boxes below when we go back down.’

  ‘They must be in alphabetical order,’ Ruth said.

  ‘I think I can manage that,’ Ava said, throwing her eyes up to the ceiling.

  Aisling said, ‘You do know that five minutes after the kids arrive, they’ll mess up any order you put them in?’

  ‘Sometimes, I go into Eason on O’Connell Street and sort their books out for them,’ Ruth said.

  ‘I bet they love seeing you,’ Ava replied, laughing.

  Once they’d drunk their tea they all got back to work. And within a few hours they were done. They stood side by side and looked around the newly transformed room, with satisfaction and pride.

  ‘It’s beginning to look like a library now,’ Ava said, and everyone nodded.

  ‘Gas thing is, I can’t stand books myself. I’d much prefer to watch stories than read about them,’ Kian said.

  ‘You are missing out on so much!’ Ruth said, shocked at his admission.

  ‘Like what?’ he asked.

  ‘Odd Thomas, for a start. A race against time. Good versus evil. It is truly excellent,’ Ruth said.

  ‘I’ve visited so many different cultures, more than I could ever visit in a lifetime, all through books. Just with the flick of a page,’ Ava said.

  ‘Like Pico Mundo in California,’ Ruth said.

  You know that is a fictitious town? Odd whispered.

  It is real to me, Odd.

  ‘Last night I was in Hawkins, Indiana, courtesy of my auld pal Netflix. With the flick of a remote-control switch! Not sure it’s a place that you’d want to go to, though. Stranger things happen there, get it?’ Kian started to laugh at his own joke and Aisling joined in.

  ‘Anna and I love that show, too. How talented are those kids?’ Aisling said.

  ‘You should watch it together some time. It is obvious to everyone that you have taken a fancy to each other. Kian, you cannot keep your eyes off Aisling. And, Aisling, you start to giggle whenever Kian is around. Watch the programme together.’ Ruth carried on cleaning while she spoke.

  ‘Who needs Tinder when you have Ruth around?’ Ava said.

  ‘I didn’t think we would get this done by tonight, never mind before lunch.’ Ruth was oblivious to the reaction her words had made.

  ‘I can’t wait to show Cormac,’ Kian said, stealing a glance at Aisling.

  ‘And me, Anna,’ Aisling agreed, flushing under his gaze. ‘We could have a little party to show it to them? Get some crisps and pop? I can go to the shop to pick up a few bits.’

  ‘Great idea. I’ll go with you if you like,’ Kian said.

  ‘I’d like that very much.’ She beamed a smile in his direction and they walked out, shoulder to shoulder.

  Ruth looked around the room with satisfaction. For the first time in months she started to feel hope begin to dance its way around her again. Whatever amount of time they had to spend here, she would do all in her power to make it a better place for them. A home.

  36

  RUTH

  Back at the park, on what was now their bench, Ruth handed Tom a napkin with two carrot-cake muffins inside. ‘They are from the breakfast buffet. I would not normally condone taking these but yesterday it came to my notice that all unused breakfast pastries and cakes were thrown out. I had suspected as much, and when I investigated the matter, I was most disappointed.’

  ‘That’s a crying shame,’ Tom said. ‘I want you to know that I appreciate how good you are to me, Ruth.’

  She waved aside his thanks, handing him his flask that she’d filled for him.

  ‘I would like you to get out of your clothes before you have a coffee,’ she instructed.

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ Tom exclaimed. Had he heard her correctly?

  Ruth placed a Bag for Life onto the bench that had become their regular spot for lunch every day. ‘I have made an approximate guess as to your size, but I am reasonably confident that I have chosen well. They are from a charity shop but are in perfect condition. In fact the sweater is new, with tags on still. An unwanted gift donated, I would imagine.’

  She passed him a pair of blue denim jeans, a T-shirt, a roll-neck sweater and a waterproof jacket. A hat, scarf and pair of gloves completed the haul.

  ‘You got these for me?’ Tom picked up each item and examined it. He had not received a gift from anyone since Cathy left …

  ‘I enjoy our lunchtime chats, Dr O’Grady. But you smell.’

  Tom’s initial reaction was to laugh. Then offence followed, stopping his laughter in its tracks.

  ‘I wash every day,’ he protested.

  ‘You may very well wash yourself every day, but you do not wash your clothes. And they smell. It is unacceptable. You can have your coffee and muffins when you are changed.’

  Tom got up and grabbed the bag of clothes, then made his way to the public toilets. Bette Davis, the traitor, stayed with Ruth, ever hopeful that a treat might be passed to her, too.

  Everything fitted perfectly. But Tom refused to get rid of his overcoat. It had two deep pockets that especially pleased him. He could hold treats for Bette Davis in those. He placed his hat, scarf and gloves on and even though he had no mirror to check himself out, he felt good.

  And for the first time in weeks he felt warm, too. The cold that had seeped into his bones began to disappear.

  ‘You look different,’ Ruth said, when he walked back. He might even have swaggered a bit. Bette Davis ran towards him, barking in delight that her master was back.

  ‘I’ve had a makeover,’ Tom said, ruffling her ears. ‘Do you recognise your old pal?’

  ‘Where is the new jacket?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘Under my overcoat,’ Tom said. ‘I’m not giving that up. It’s non-negotiable.’

  Bette barked her approval when he pulled a dog biscuit from his pocket, which he’d placed there earlier.

  Ruth told him, ‘You will be too warm with both.’

  But she poured him his coffee all the same. Tom liked having her fuss over him. He felt a lump threaten to choke him as it grew bigger and took up residence in his throat.

  ‘Do I smell better?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Ruth said.

  ‘I am more grateful than you could ever know. It’s difficult keeping clean; perhaps I let the standards drop a bit. Most of the public showers don’t want the likes of us using their facilities. We’re too “dirty”, apparently. That’s always been a puzzle to me. How the hell are we to keep clean if they won’t let us in the doors to use their facilities? I don’t know, some people are just stupid.’

  ‘Stupid is as stupid does,’ Ruth said.

  Tom replied, ‘I ain’t no Forrest Gump.’

  They both smiled in contentment at the pleasure of sharing a joke, made famous in the Tom Hanks movie.

  ‘Maybe I can sneak you into the hotel to wash,’ Ruth said.

  ‘Don’t put your place there at risk,’ Tom said. ‘Now, what news do you have today?’
>
  Ruth told him all about the new hotel library and homework room, her excitement shining from her.

  ‘Good for you! Sounds like you are making some friends.’

  ‘I have never had friends before. It is a whole new world. I like it.’

  ‘And it sounds like they like you.’

  ‘It is a most unusual feeling. Most people do not seem to care for me,’ Ruth said.

  ‘You have just been hanging around with the wrong people,’ Tom said. ‘Or maybe, from what you told me, you’ve been on your own for so long, you’ve not given people a chance to get to know you.’

  Ruth frowned. It was true that over the past ten years she had spent most of her time alone or with DJ. ‘I have had some bad experiences,’ she said, in an effort to explain herself.

  ‘I don’t doubt that. If you are too much for some people, then maybe they are not your people. Simple as.’

  Ruth thought about Denise and the other mums at the school gates. Not her people.

  ‘You’ve found your tribe with Kian, Aisling and Ava, by the sounds of it. Hold them close, don’t let them go,’ Tom said.

  My tribe. She liked the sound of that very much.

  ‘You are part of my tribe, too, Dr O’Grady,’ Ruth said.

  Tom felt inordinately happy with that statement.

  He ate his first muffin in two bites, then halved the second one for himself and Bette, washing it down with his coffee. ‘DJ has been asking me a lot of questions again. About your parents. And his dad.’

  Ruth put her hands over her face. Not this again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said. ‘I don’t want to upset you. I’m not being nosy. It’s your own business. I just want you to know what the lad said.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘When he thinks about his dad he feels sick and gets a knot in his stomach,’ Tom continued. ‘I told him he should talk to you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ruth said. ‘I wish I could give him something else to help him answer those questions that make him ill. But I do not know where his father is.’

  ‘Do you want to find him?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Of course. I loved him. Or at least I felt I did. I am sure most would think I was stupid for falling for a man in one weekend. And maybe I need to accept that they are right, because he never came back.’

  ‘I don’t think you were stupid. He’s the stupid one, letting you slip through his fingers. For what it’s worth, I fell in love with Cathy in one moment. We were just meant to be.’

  They sat in silence for a few moments, both lost in thought.

  ‘When I was a little girl, I overheard my parents talking one night,’ Ruth said.

  ‘No good comes from eavesdropping, that’s what my dad used to say,’ Tom replied.

  ‘But when you hear someone mention your name in conversation it is impossible to walk away.’

  ‘And I’m assuming whatever you overheard wasn’t good?’

  Ruth remembered the pain her mother’s words caused, like it was yesterday. Some cuts never heal. ‘Mam told Dad that she hated reading to me. The thing was, I loved story time. Sitting at her feet, leaning into her legs.’

  ‘That must have been hard to hear,’ Tom said.

  Ruth felt her heart rate begin to accelerate as it always did when she thought about her parents. She sighed, ‘I should have walked back to my bedroom, but I was so upset. I asked her why.’

  Tom wanted to reach over, to touch Ruth, offer her some comfort. But instead he nudged Bette gently, who took the hint and nuzzled in close to Ruth. She began to stroke her coat, and Tom was sure Ruth’s breathing evened out. ‘She told me that she hated reading fairytales to me, because I would never have a happy ever after or fall in love with a Prince Charming.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’ Tom spluttered out.

  ‘I asked her why for the second time.’ Ruth leaned in close to Bette, till her cheek was touching the dog’s fur, then whispered, ‘She said that Prince Charmings never fell in love with freaks.’

  Tom had seen and heard a lot over the years. Had thought that nothing much could shock him anymore. But this …

  Ruth nodded, her eyes on her plastic cup.

  ‘Oh Ruth,’ Tom whispered. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘For what? You did nothing wrong. I thought I proved her wrong when I met Dean. Sometimes, I think I imagined him. I made up a fairytale.’

  ‘Stop that. Whatever happened to him, he should be helping you with DJ. Paying maintenance.’ Tom wanted to hunt him down and tell him to get his sorry arse in touch with Ruth and DJ. He wasn’t sure who he was more annoyed with, her parents or Dean. All of them.

  ‘I have tried to search for him online many times. But with the only information being Dean, Dublin, Sales Representative … I click on the same images that I have clicked on hundreds of times before, hoping for a different result, hoping that this time Dean’s face would appear but it never does. I don’t know enough about him.’

  ‘What if you find him, what then?’ Tom asked.

  ‘I do not know, Dr O’Grady. Sometimes I imagine a different truth for DJ and me. A world where he never left and I am married to Dean.’

  Tom felt his jaw clench. ‘I don’t want you wasting your life dreaming about your past, instead of living.’ Like I do? Tom pushed the thought away, refusing to acknowledge it, but knowing he wanted so much more for this woman and her kid than he had for himself.

  ‘I know that salvation does not lie with DJ’s father. It is up to me to find a way to make DJ happy again. Find us both a forever home.’

  Tom leaned in close to Ruth. ‘And I have no doubt that you will succeed. But your mother got it so wrong. Happy ever afters come in all shapes and sizes. When you least expect them. Some last a lifetime, others only a fleeting moment. But the point is, they happen. This world is not done surprising you yet, Ruth Wilde. I am sure of it.’

  37

  TOM

  Bette Davis moved away from Ruth’s embrace, her ears pricked up, looking into the shadows of the trees.

  ‘There’s a woman watching us,’ Ruth said.

  ‘You know her?’ Tom asked Ruth, as the woman began walking towards them.

  Ruth shook her head then joked, ‘She probably finds you attractive in your new clothes.’

  ‘Ha! She’s coming over so let’s see if you are right!’

  The middle-aged woman wore jeans, runners, a light rain jacket and a frown. She cleared her throat when she reached Tom’s side, then whispered, ‘Are you Charlie Sheen?’

  Tom felt laughter gurgle its way inside him. Of all the things he thought she might ask him, that was not one of them. ‘Once someone said I had a look of Brendan Gleeson. That was around the time of Braveheart. Great movie. But I have to admit that it’s a first that anyone would mistake me for Charlie Sheen. Maybe his dad, Martin, at a push.’

  Her face fell and he saw her eyes water up. She blinked hard to stem the threatened tears.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Tom asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Charlie Sheen said I was to be here at twelve thirty.’

  ‘You know Charlie Sheen is an actor. He’s unlikely to come here,’ Tom said. This woman was clearly in distress and he wondered if perhaps she wasn’t very well.

  She looked at him in irritation. ‘I know that’s not his real name. I don’t suppose I’ll ever know his real name. I’m not sure I want to know it now.’

  ‘You are not making much sense.’ Tom was lost and still wasn’t sure that the woman wasn’t, too.

  She looked from Ruth to Tom and then whispered, ‘You’re not an undercover detective or anything like that, are you?’

  ‘No. I’m just Doc. And this is my friend Ruth.’ He tried to look unthreatening. It must have worked because she took a seat beside him on the bench.

  ‘I’m sorry about all of this. I’m Lorraine and quite clearly out of my depth!’ she replied.

  ‘You have me intrigued.’

  ‘Charlie Sheen is a drug deal
er,’ she replied. ‘I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?’

  She looked around her once more as if, by saying the words out loud, she’d incite someone to swoop down and arrest her.

  ‘You have shocked me,’ Ruth said. ‘But then again people shock me most days.’

  Tom looked at the woman a little closer to see if there were any of the usual tell-tale signs of drug abuse. She wouldn’t be the first housewife to become addicted to prescription pills. He’d seen it many times over the years. No. Nothing. If she was using, she was hiding it well.

  ‘The drugs are not for me. They are for my husband, Dan. Although, to be honest, I could do with something right now for my bloody nerves.’ She held her hands up to show them shaking.

  The poor woman. What on earth had driven her to the streets to look for drugs? ‘And what are you in the market for?’

  ‘Cannabis. Or is it marijuana they call it now?’ Lorraine answered.

  ‘I think either name works,’ Tom replied.

  ‘Dan and I both got through our teens and most of our adult life without touching so much as a cigarette. I don’t know how we ended up here.’ She looked bemused.

  ‘Sometimes life throws us off course,’ Ruth said.

  ‘No truer word,’ Lorraine said. ‘Dan was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1997.’

  ‘That’s rough,’ Tom said.

  ‘Every day has been a new challenge for Dan. And me,’ she replied. ‘He was in remission for nearly ten years, so we both got complacent. I began to think that the doctors got it wrong. A misdiagnosis.’

  ‘It came back?’ Tom asked.

  ‘About a year ago now.’

  Tom had treated several patients over the years with MS. It was a horrific disease. Dermot, one of the men he knew from the Peter McVerry Trust, had it. He’d deteriorated rapidly in the past year.

  ‘He’s developed secondary progressive MS now. And that comes with severe spasticity. I massage his legs to try to help, but late at night he can’t sleep with it. Then a neighbour gave him some weed and the stiffness eased. I make a tea for him with it. He likes that. But last week my neighbour moved. Every day I lose a little bit more of the man I married. So, here I am out on the streets trying to score drugs at fifty-six years of age. If my children could see me now …’ Lorraine ended on a sob.