Wandering in Exile

by Peter Murphy

  Even with Jerry acting like he was on the deck of an aircraft carrier, twirling his arms to urge Danny to turn the wheel more, it took a few more goes.

  “That’s the problem with owning one of these babies.” Danny patted the dashboard as they finally drove away. “But wait ’til you see her out on the highway. She was built for that.”

  He went into the ramp too fast and had to swerve to make the turn, almost pinning Jerry against the far door, still fumbling with his seatbelt buckle.

  “Christ, son. Slow down or you’ll have us all dead.”

  “It’s all right,” Danny assured him in the most offhanded way he could. “It’s power steering, you know? It’s power everything.” He flicked the locks and raised all the windows together as he accelerated away, out of the airport. “Feel this,” he floored it and the car sprung forward. “That’s the 400, four-barrel V8.”

  “Jazus, son. Would you ever slow down a bit? You’ll give your mother a heart attack.”

  “Don’t be worrying about me,” Jacinta corrected her husband. “Danny’s just proud of how well he is doing. You should be proud of him, too.”

  “I am. I’m just hoping that I can go on being proud of him and not end up splattered across the motorway.”

  “Well, I feel like the queen back here. This is almost as nice as the cars at your granny’s funeral.”

  Jerry slouched a bit and nodded. “She’s very powerful—I’ll say that for her. What’s she get to the gallon?”

  “Don’t ask.” Danny gritted his teeth a little. He knew what his mother had done. He was glad she was on his side but sometimes, when she started in on his father—she could get very dark. He squealed into another ramp before he applied the brakes.

  “Jazus, son. You don’t want to brake in the corners. You want to brake before and then power your way into them.”

  “I told you, it has power steering.” He twirled the wheel a little, causing the car to wobble in its lane coming far too close to the wheels of the truck beside them.

  “It’s lovely and sunny, isn’t it Jerry?” Jacinta mused like she was oblivious.

  The sun baked down as the 427 straightened out and headed directly south. Danny wanted to take them along the Gardiner, the elevated highway that ran right along the lakeshore, gleaming banks on one side and the sparkling lake on the other.

  “Tell me, son. Did it take you long to get the hang of all this?” Jerry was holding on for dear life as traffic merged and parted all around—an almost synchronized ballet at over a mile a minute. “‘Cos I don’t think I would be able to handle it.”

  “Ah, you get used to it.” Danny smiled over at him with just one hand on the wheel. “So? What’s the news from home?”

  “You heard that Thin Lizzy died?”

  “I heard about Phil Lynott, but I didn’t know about the rest of them.”

  Jerry ignored that and continued. “Jackie Charlton is managing Ireland now. Did you ever think you’d live to see the day?”

  “It’s all going to the dogs back there,” Jacinta sniffed. “They’ll all be getting divorced by the time we get home.”

  “Do you think it will pass?”

  “In Ireland? No chance.” Jerry was sure of it.

  “What would you know about divorce? Maybe I’ll give you a divorce and that will learn you.”

  “Are you kidding me? Now that we have an airport in Knock, the pope will be flying in for weekends. And,” Jerry was enjoying himself, “we got pandas now—up in the zoo. I bet you don’t have those over here yet?”

  “Did you go to see them or did you just walk around outside?”

  “Jazus son,” Jerry looked away at the lake. “Are you never going to let it go?”

  “Is that the lake you were telling us about?” Jacinta piped up from the back to ease the tension.

  “Yes, that’s Lake Ontario,” Jerry cut in before Danny could answer. “It’s one of the Great Lakes and that,” he pointed ahead, “is the CN Tower. Amn’t I right?”

  “Of course you are, Jerry. He’s,” she added to Danny’s eyes in the rear view mirror, “been studying up on Canada.”

  “I just like to know something about the places I’m going—that’s all.”

  “Is it far to your house?” Jacinta tried again. “I can’t wait to see my grandchildren. Is the little man getting used to his sister yet?”

  Danny checked her in the rear view mirror as he headed down to the DVP, down into the ravine where they would climb back up toward the Bloor Viaduct. “He’s great. He’s always helping Deirdre out and he keeps asking when he can play with Grainne.”

  “Ah, God love him. I’m sure he’s going to be the best big brother of all time.”

  “Are we out of the city already?” Jerry asked when they drove along Bayview and turned and climbed up Pottery Road.

  “Not at all. This is just a ravine. It runs right through the city. Our house is up on the other side.”

  “And here,” he added a few minutes later, “is Chester Hill. This is where we live.”

  It was a semi, with a front porch, on a nice tree-lined avenue. Deirdre had hung some potted plants but Danny hadn’t gotten around to getting after Frank to move the lumber and other materials. He had been helping them renovate.

  Deirdre came out as they pulled into the driveway, with the baby in her arms and little Martin by her side. He got a bit shy in the fuss but Grainne just slept through it all. Jacinta said that it could be a sign of something as she followed Deirdre into the mostly finished kitchen, but wasn’t sure what.

  “It’s a bit of a mess,” Deirdre apologized. “As you can see we are having work done. Work that was supposed to be finished by now.” She glared back at Danny, who had little Martin on his shoulder, shyly peeping back at the funny faces his grandfather was making.

  “The hens are clucking already.” Jerry winked and little Martin began to laugh.

  *

  They all went to Niagara Falls where Danny dangled little Martin over the rail for a picture. He wanted to do the same thing at the CN Tower until his father told him to cop-on. Deirdre could see that stung but she didn’t want to step between them. Danny and his father hadn’t been right since they got out of the car. She was sad about that. Danny had been looking forward to showing his father around. So when they went to the zoo, Deirdre stayed at home with the baby. She felt it was too hot and too much walking, and she’d have to feed Grainne anyway. It was better if they went without her.

  She was hoping that Jacinta would agree and stay with her—just to give Danny another chance with his father. She had told him he should try to resolve it—for little Martin’s sake.

  “Nonsense.” Jacinta had surprised her. “Martin has been telling me all about the gorilla they have there. He was trying to convince me that he could talk with him so I told him I had to see that and I couldn’t let him down now?”

  “No,” Deirdre agreed, and hid her disappointment. She’d been hoping that Jacinta wouldn’t mind looking after Grainne for a little while. She really had to find some time to spend on her thesis.

  So instead, she stayed at home and hoped they weren’t smoking in the car. She had made it clear to all of them—she couldn’t have smoke around her children.

  Jerry and Jacinta were a little put out at first, but they got used to it. Danny had cleared the part of the back deck that was finished and set up lawn chairs and a little table to put their drinks on. They spent most of the evenings outside. Frank came over a few times and charmed Jacinta right out of her seat. He and Danny would take out the guitars and sing softly as the evening darkened. He knew all of her favorites and in time she began to treat him like her own son. They went out to hear the band a few times, too, and Jacinta came home like she’d been back stage at a concert.

  Jerry didn’t seem to notice, or if he did he didn’t care. He was locked into some type of head game with Danny. It really came out when they were drinking. Danny would make snide remarks about the way Jerry
had been when he was a child, so Jerry was striking back through Martin, getting his attention and dividing his loyalties. They made it all sound like they were just slagging each other, but Deirdre knew better. She’d tried cornering Danny about it but he made out like she was misreading it. They were just having a bit of crack and that there was no problem.

  “If either you or your brother,” she teased Grainne as she wiped her off and changed her diaper, “ever behave toward your father like that . . .”

  She looked into her daughter’s eyes. They were so different from Martin’s. When she first held him, after he was born, he looked up at her and seemed to smile. Grainne was so different. She came out kicking and screaming, tearing as she came. Sometimes, Deirdre resented her for that.

  She kept telling herself it was just the baby blues, but she could never shake the feeling that she would never be as close to her daughter as she was with her son. Still, she picked her up and held her to her breast and carried her to her bed. She placed her down, exactly as she had done with Martin, only Grainne squirmed a lot more.

  And, when she realized she was being put down, cried and cried until Deirdre went against all that she read about and just gave in. She picked Grainne up and carried her to her own bed. She propped Danny’s pillows on one side and lay on the other. She stroked her daughter’s flustered head and soothed until they both fell asleep in the cool shade of a hot, humid afternoon.

  A few hours later, the phone startled her. It was Danny saying that they were going to stop at McDonald’s and not to worry about making supper.

  Deirdre reminded him that they had talked about McDonald’s—that it wasn’t what they wanted Martin to get used to. Danny agreed but said that his father had mentioned it so often that Martin had his heart set on it now.

  “So? Did you all have a nice day?” She decided to let it go. The visit was not going the way Danny had hoped. His mother kept complaining she was too hot or too cold when they turned on the A/C. They just had a few window units that Danny had gotten for a great price at Canadian Tire. He said they had to have them in before his parents came over.

  And it was worse with his father. They were at each other all the time, while little Martin looked on. But there was nothing she could do. She had her hands full with Jacinta, who seemed to disagree with the way she did everything. She was never direct about it, though, preferring instead to offer sympathies and advice. She said that she didn’t want to interfere, only she was concerned for them all. She said she knew how hard it could be to be starting a family—especially so far from home.

  She also said that she thought it was time for them to start thinking about coming back to Ireland, now that all the fuss had died down. Canada was all very nice and clean and all that, but were she and Danny serious about raising her grandchildren here? She was worried about Danny too. She said he looked so worn out, “but then again he was the one that was having to work night and day.”

  Deirdre couldn’t help it and reacted. She told her mother-in-law that she was going to get a job in the autumn but that just made things worse. Jacinta was horrified that her grandchildren would have to spend their days with strangers while their parents worked.

  She was on at Danny about it too: that they should forget about it all and come back to Ireland. She’d be more than happy to mind the babies if Deirdre had to go out to work.

  *

  “So, sweetie? Did you have a wonderful time at the zoo with Granny and Granddad?”

  Little Martin ran through the litanies of all that they had seen and done as she knelt down and held him tight. But when he finished, he wanted to sit outside with his grandfather, who had already lit up and was drinking a beer.

  “And how’s the little one?” Jacinta asked before she followed. “Did my two favorite girls have a nice day together?”

  “Just one more week,” Danny whispered, and brushed her hand with his before going out to make his mother comfortable.

  Deirdre stood in the middle of her almost-remodeled kitchen, staring at her reflection in the darkening patio door and the flicker and flare of candles and cigarettes outside. She couldn’t join them. She was still breast-feeding and didn’t want to drink—and she couldn’t tolerate the smell of smoke.

  So she busied herself tiding up the kitchen, forgetting once more that the hot and cold taps were reversed. A friend of Frank’s had done the plumbing—when he wasn’t rummaging through the fridge for cold beers. He was to come back and fix ‘a few little things’ but he hadn’t.

  It was starting to get to her. Some of the doors were sticking and the shower still hadn’t been tiled. Danny had taped plastic to the walls but it had become mottled with water and soap stains.

  And the basement was leaking—something they only discovered during a recent thunderstorm.

  They needed far more money than she had allowed. Frank had tried to warn them, but Deirdre was adamant. She regretted it now. They should have taken it a bit slower.

  She would have to get a job after the summer. It was the only way forward but as it drew closer, she had to be honest—she wasn’t ready to leave her babies.

  Sure, she would find the best daycare, but it was a lot more than that. It was the end of that special time she had with them. It was hard enough leaving Martin for the few hours a day she had taken to finish her degree, but this was different. Everything would be different. They would have to rush out in the mornings, scrambling to drop the kids off while hoping they could still make it to work on time. That was how their neighbors, Cathy and Dave, had been living for the last few years. Cathy only got to see her kids for a few hours each night. And Dave saw them on the weekends while Cathy did the shopping and the housework. What had she gotten herself and Danny into?

  She looked at the patio door again when little Martin laughed at something, but she hardly noticed as she only saw her own bloated shape, hulking in her half-finished kitchen.

  *

  “And one day,” Jerry continued with little Martin on his knee, enthralled by every word, “King Conchobar was invited to the house of Culann, the most famous blacksmith in all the land. And on the way over, Conchobar went by the field where Sétanta was playing hurling with his mates.

  “‘I want you to come with me,’ the King told him, but Sétanta wanted to finish the game first.

  “‘Very well,’ said the King, who was very fond of the little boy like he was his very own grandson.” He gave little Martin a squeeze.

  “Anyway, after he got to Culann’s house, he began to have a few drinks and when Culann told him he was going to let his ferocious dog out—to protect them, because in those days, you never knew who’d be hanging around—the King forgot all about little Sétanta. ‘Let loose the hound and let’s have another song,’ he called and they all started singing and playing the finest music that ever was heard.”

  “Was it like the music my daddy and Uncle Frank play?”

  “The very same. Anyway, when Sétanta had finished the game he came up to Culann’s house and do you know what he met there?”

  “The big dog?”

  “The very same. You know, you are a very smart boy. Anyway, as soon as the dog saw Sétanta he came roaring forward with his teeth gnashing and snarling.”

  “He didn’t bite Sétanta, did he Granddad?”

  “Not a bit of it. As he came running forward, do you know what Sétanta did? He had his Hurley stick with him—and his sliotar. So he throws the sliotar up and whacks it straight at the dog. It went right into his big gaping mouth and got stuck in his throat and he fell down dead.”

  Little Martin’s eyes grew moist but Jerry was ready for him. “‘What am I going to do now?’ Culann asked the King. ‘That was the best dog I ever had. How will I ever find another to replace it?’

  “And before the King and the Druid, and all the warriors, could say anything, Sétanta stepped before them all. ‘I’ll get you a new dog,’ says he and him only up to their waists. ‘And I’ll train him myself
.’

  “But Culann was still very sad. ‘Who’s going to guard my house and lands until the dog is big enough?’ he asked and everyone nodded and looked around at each other.

  “’I’ll do it,’ says Sétanta, ‘until the new dog is ready.’

  “And he did too, as good as any dog. And from that day to this, he has gone by the name Cú Chulainn. And do you know what that means?”

  Little Martin shook his head.

  “It means the Hound of Culann.”

  *

  “Did you have to tell him all that?” Danny asked after Deirdre had taken little Martin off to bed. “He’ll be having nightmares now.”

  “Ah, Danny. What harm can there be?” Jacinta sipped her drink and eyed her son and her husband. They were going to get into it again.

  “I just don’t want anybody filling his head with nonsense.”

  “What’s the matter? Are you afraid that he might want to grow up to be really Irish?”

  Danny eyed his father coldly. “That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

  “Well what is it then?” Jerry asked, ignoring Jacinta’s efforts to shake him off.

  Danny mulled it over in his mind. He resented the way his father was insinuating himself into little Martin’s life.

  “Figure it out for yourself—just like the way I had to.”

  “Oh, you’re not still going on about that?”

  “No. I just don’t think that you should be acting the way you are.”

  “Look, son. I know I wasn’t a good father, but can I not try to be a good grandfather?”

  “Is that what you trying to be?”

  “You know,” Jacinta spoke up before Jerry could answer, “there is no need for all of this carry-on. What’s done is done and now we should be happy that we all got this far. Besides, your father didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes, Danny. Your father has some great news for you. He wants you to move back and join him and Donal in the company. Isn’t that right, Jerry?”