Spit Against the Wind

by Anna Smith

  ‘Our Dan pees the bed!’ It seemed to come from nowhere and the words hung frozen in the air, leaving us all stunned. Suddenly it dawned on us why Dan was hanging out his sheets, and why he had looked slightly startled when we surprised him. His face dropped and he turned on his sister.

  ‘Get into the house, you! Quick! Git, before I kick your arse.’ He lunged at the girl, his face beetroot red, and she dodged him, racing off towards the back door.

  ‘See her!’ Dan said. ‘Wee shite!’ He didn’t look at any of us and kicked the ground.

  Jamie broke the atmosphere.

  ‘Listen, Dan, we’re goin’ to the pictures, then the café for a slap-up meal. Tony’s got money he took from the Nazi. Hurry. He’s got a tenner.’

  Dan’s eyes opened wide when Tony produced the tenner and waved it in the air. He laughed.

  ‘You’re a nutcase. What if he counts it and finds it’s missing?’ he said.

  ‘Stuff him. You saw the box. He’s got a fortune in there. He’ll never notice. C’mon, let’s get movin’.’

  ‘What’re we goin’ to see?’ Dan said.

  ‘Planet of the Apes. You might recognize yourself,’ Tony said, adopting an ape’s posture, crouching down and holding his hands high above his head as he circled Dan. We all laughed. He walked exactly like an ape. We all joined in, but none of us could get down as low as Tony.

  ‘Wait while I tell my mum. You know what it’s like,’ Dan said as he ran off to the house. He emerged minutes later in his denim jacket and jeans, munching on a banana sandwich.

  ‘Just getting into the swing of things, Dan?’ Jamie said, making a monkey face.

  Dan aimed a kick at him but missed.

  The sun was bursting its way through fat white clouds. We walked down the road, the four of us taking the full breadth of the pavement like the gunslingers from The Magnificent Seven strutting into town. There was a big afternoon ahead and nobody could touch us. We were on our own and had a tenner of the Nazi’s money. It was great. Dan even broke into a skip, the shame of the bedwetting revelation vanishing for the moment to the back of his mind as we stood waiting for the bus to take us into town.

  *

  You could always hear Billy Cowan before you saw him. He had the biggest mouth in the village and here he was again shooting his trap off and goading the other kids in the queue for the cinema. He hated Tony, mostly because everybody else liked him, but also because he spoke like an American. That made Billy jealous because no matter how much he tried to be like the guys in the movies, he couldn’t even sound like them. But he hated the rest of us anyway, because we were Catholics. He said he hated all Catholics, just like his dad who led off the Orange Walk every year. He said that Catholics should be in Ireland where they belonged in their stinking bogs and not over here, stealing all the jobs. I couldn’t understand it. I had only been to Ireland on holiday. This was my home. We all felt edgy as we walked up to the queue. Tony and Jamie squared their shoulders while Dan and me fell in behind them.

  ‘Look at Cowan,’ Tony said. ‘He’s eyeing us up. I bet he starts on me again. I feel like wasting his face.’

  ‘Let’s just get in the queue and ignore him,’ Dan said. ‘We might not get in if there’s a fight. C’mon, never mind. He’s a diddy anyway.’

  All four of us took our place in the queue quietly. We looked up at the poster on the wall with all the hype about Planet of the Apes. We were getting quite excited.

  ‘I heard it was real apes,’ Dan said, wide-eyed. ‘And that they trained them up.’

  We all burst out laughing. ‘What! Real apes? Wi’ coats and hats on, and sitting around talking and stuff?’ Jamie said, sniggering.

  ‘No,’ Dan insisted, ‘I don’t mean the talking. But I heard it was real apes they used and dressed them up. I mean, they do it in the tea advert on the telly, so it can be done.’ He was convincing himself.

  ‘No way,’ I said. ‘Look closely at their faces, Dan. They look too much like people. No way are they real apes.’

  ‘We’ll see, we’ll see.’ Dan was refusing to concede the point.

  When the cinema doors opened everyone rushed forward and the commissionaire was out trying to get us into an orderly queue. We were almost at the ticket kiosk and Tony was fishing in his jeans pocket for the money.

  ‘Right, lads! Hurry up before the Micks get all the good seats!’ Billy Cowan nodded in our direction and urged his mates to push forward. They did. We ignored them.

  After they got through it was our turn and Tony produced the ten-pound note. Billy and his pals were still hanging around, watching us.

  ‘Hey, Yankee! Where did you get all that money, eh? Whose pockets did you dip?’ His mates all shuffled around laughing. They were scared of him. Billy was thirteen but was already a head and shoulder taller than all of us and looked older. He was a known bully in the village and had a reputation in the Protestant secondary school he attended for being the best fighter in the first year. Some people said he even went to Shaggy Island at night and did the business.

  ‘Hey … I’m talkin’ to you, Mick. Are you deaf as well as stupid?’ Billy persisted as Tony put the tickets and the change back in his pocket. He looked angry.

  We all stood facing Billy and his pals in the foyer. Tony looked Billy in the eye.

  ‘Why don’t you piss off? We’re goin’ to watch the movie, OK?’ Tony said matter-of-factly.

  We walked past Billy, but only got a few steps when he piped up.

  ‘How’s your ma, Yankee? Still pished?’ The words had barely left Billy’s lips before Tony was on top of him, head-butting him to the ground. It happened so fast we didn’t even see it. Immediately, the commissionaire was in, pulling the two apart.

  ‘Right! Right! That’s it! Are ye wantin’ barred out? Is that it? Now, on your feet the two of you.’ He pulled both of them to their feet. Tony’s eyes were blazing. Billy looked a bit shocked and was clutching his stomach, trying to catch his breath.

  ‘He kneed me in the balls!’ Billy shouted, his face red with indignation.

  ‘What balls?’ Tony said, struggling to get at him again.

  ‘Right! Right, now, I’ll put the two of you out in the street.’ The commissionaire tightened his grip, his face reddening.

  Both Tony and Billy were silent, looking away from each other.

  ‘C’mon, Tony, let’s watch the picture. C’mon, it’s nearly started,’ Jamie said, pulling Tony by the arm.

  ‘This is no finished yet,’ Billy snapped at Tony as he turned to walk away.

  We ignored him and walked through the swing doors into the exciting darkness of the cinema. The usherette shone her torch and led us to seats halfway down and we filed in silently. Tony was still breathing fast by the time we took our seats. I could see in the darkness that there were tears in his eyes. I squeezed his arm gently, but he never took his eyes off the screen.

  The picture started and from the opening words we were engrossed in the screen. Nobody spoke until halfway through the film, when Dan leaned forward and said:

  ‘I’m sure they apes are real.’ We all sniggered.

  ‘Away and get the ice lollies,’ Tony said, pushing a pound note into his hand.

  *

  We could smell the aroma coming from Luigi’s Café as soon as we emerged, blinking, from the cinema into the late afternoon sunshine. The smell of chips frying mingled with the kind of earthy odour of herbs from Luigi’s special sausages filled the air and made our mouths water in expectation. We made our way into the street, squeezing past the queue for the next showing of Planet of the Apes. I was glad to see that there was no sign of Billy Cowan and his cronies, though I got the feeling that this wasn’t over yet. As we crossed the road, Jamie looked over his shoulder, scanning the crowd for Cowan.

  ‘Hey, guys! Look!’ We all stopped in our tracks, assuming it was Billy he’d spotted. But it wasn’t. It was Miss Grant, standing at the entrance to the cinema by herself. She must be on a date. It was
unimaginable to think that someone would actually want to go out with her.

  ‘Can you believe it?’ Tony said, smiling. ‘Can you actually believe that anyone would want to go to the pictures with her? Or even that she would go to the movies and actually enjoy herself? Jeez. Poor guy.’

  ‘I wonder what kind of pants she’s got on,’ Jamie said and we all laughed.

  I watched Miss Grant shift around from one foot to the other in her high heels. She looked almost acceptable, dressed in a red knee-length skirt and white blouse with a black jacket over her arm. Her hair was all sorted and she was wearing lipstick. I tried to imagine her having a normal conversation and laughing with her boyfriend, but I couldn’t get the picture in my head. She was looking at her watch, then peering up the road. I felt a sudden, surprising pang of pity for her. What if she was getting stood up? I knew from listening to Kevin and Ann Marie that it was the greatest shame in all the world to get a dissy. You became the laughing stock if it happened. Just about everybody knew, because nine times out of ten you would be meeting the date outside the pictures and everyone would notice if you ended up being on your own. Miss Grant kept looking at her watch.

  ‘I think she’s getting a dissy,’ I said, as we walked backwards still watching her.

  ‘I hope so,’ Tony said. ‘I hope she stands there till she faints face down in the dark.’

  We followed our noses to Luigi’s. We had more important matters on our minds than Miss Grant’s love life. But I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder to see if she was still waiting as the crowd started to file into the cinema. Soon she would be on her own. Serves her right, I thought.

  *

  Inside Luigi’s we piled into a booth and the four of us tried to grab the plastic menu at once.

  ‘How much have you got left, Tony?’ I said, wondering if I could get a Luigi’s special supper and a milk shake.

  He emptied his pocket on to the table. Rolled-up pound notes and a ten-shilling note plus lots of silver. It looked like nearly six pounds. It was loads.

  ‘We’ve got plenty. We can get a full meal each and a drink and still have some left,’ Tony said, eyeing the menu.

  ‘Brilliant! I’ll have sausage, egg and chips, and a strawberry milk shake,’ Jamie said.

  ‘A Luigi’s special for me,’ I said. ‘And a chocolate milk shake.’

  Tony and Dan ordered the same when Luigi’s wife Carla came shuffling over to the table, her big fat chest hanging down to her waist, which seemed to be held up by the bright red and blue grease-stained apron she had tied around her wobbling stomach.

  ‘Okay-cokay, my boys … and geerls,’ she said, nodding and smiling in my direction as if we were old friends. I smiled back at her. I loved to watch Carla in the café, bouncing from table to table, waving and laughing in big exaggerated gestures. She seemed to love everybody. The only time you heard her shouting was in the back kitchen when she and Luigi were having a fight over something. It sounded brilliant. They used to scream at each other in Italian and you could hear pots and pans crashing. Then Carla would emerge with plates full of food in each hand, laughing and shaking her head, mumbling something in Italian as she weaved through the café. It was nearly as good as going to the pictures.

  Nearly all the Italians I came across seemed to be louder and more expressive than anyone I knew. Dad said it was their hot blood due to being raised in a warm climate. They were really hard workers and seemed to own all the cafés and chip shops. Most of them who were here came over just before the Second World War and made good money, but I had heard stories that when the war broke out and the Tallies were on the side of the Nazis local people used to go and break their windows. That must have been terrible for them. Some of the Italians were also here because they had been held in various places as prisoners of war, and they just stayed on. I heard others broke the hearts of some girls while they were here, then went back home to Italy after the war.

  When the food came, nobody spoke. We eyed up the plates full of steaming chips and Luigi’s home-made sausage with the flavour bursting out as soon as you stuck your knife into it. We wolfed down the food, roasting our tongues and throwing back ice-cold milk shakes to cool us down. What a feast.

  We leaned back in our seats, stuffed full, and slurped the remainder of our drinks from straws hoovering the bottom of the glasses.

  Dan fidgeted in his seat and toyed with his straw. He looked worried. We all looked at each other. Eventually he spoke.

  ‘Guys … Er … You won’t say anything about the sheets, eh?’ he mumbled.

  There was an awkward silence.

  ‘What sheets?’ Jamie said. We all looked from Dan to each other. He looked relieved. We were glad that was out of the way. But Dan kept going.

  ‘It’s … er … not that I’ve always done it … It’s only in the last three weeks. Jeesus! I don’t know! I just don’t know!’ His head was down.

  ‘Forget about it, Dan,’ Tony said. ‘Jeesus, man! Who cares? It’s no big deal.’

  Our attention was diverted by Miss Grant walking through the door of the café. She shot a brief look in our direction, then sat in a corner. She was on her own. She had been dissied. We all looked at each other and nodded knowingly. I watched as she sat down. Her body seemed to slump, deflated, on to the chair. She looked at the menu, then put it back down. Her face was stern. Then she reached into her handbag and pulled out a handkerchief. She swallowed hard, then sniffed. She dabbed her eyes. Jesus. She was crying. She had been stood up and here she was all alone in the café on a Saturday afternoon, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Well, I thought, she probably deserved it. But despite my better judgement, I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for her.

  The boys all watched her, seemingly unfazed.

  ‘Huh! Who cares if she’s a poor bastard?’ Tony said. ‘It’s probably her own fault.’

  ‘I can’t believe she’s greetin’. I wish I had a camera,’ Jamie said, unmoved by the scene.

  Dan just watched, biting his nails. He seemed to be miles away.

  Finally we got up and went to the counter to pay Carla.

  ‘Okay-cokay. You like my Luigi’s food? Good? Enjoy?’

  ‘Brilliant, Carla!’ we all chorused.

  ‘Here …’ She fished into a box and brought out a handful of sweets. Smiling, she dropped them into our hands. ‘For my most best customers!’

  ‘Cheers, Carla! Thanks!’ we all said, stuffing the sweets into our pockets as we walked out the door.

  Miss Grant was watching us intently. My eyes met hers briefly and I looked away.

  Outside, we’d only walked about five yards when we saw them.

  There he was, his hands on his hips, Billy Cowan, surrounded by four or five of his pals.

  ‘Shit,’ said Tony. ‘There’s Cowan come looking for trouble.’

  ‘C’mon, let’s go the other way. Let’s leg it and we’ll get the bus at the next stop,’ Dan said nervously.

  ‘That’ll be right,’ Tony said. ‘And run away from him for the rest of our lives? No way. We’ll just walk right on and ignore him. But if he starts, Christ, man, I’ll kick the shit out of him.’ Tony was raging. He could go so quickly from laughing and joking in the café to someone who was wound up, angry and ready for action. I was scared. But I banked on Cowan and his mates not hitting a girl.

  Billy and his pals seemed to part and spread out, blocking the way as we walked towards them. Billy was standing in the middle of the pavement. When we moved on to the road, they moved on to the road. There was no way out. We were trapped. Jamie and Tony squared up, ready to fight. Dan looked at me. I didn’t know how to fight.

  ‘Where do you think you’re goin’, Yankee?’ Billy said, taking a step forward.

  ‘We’re going home, Cowan. That’s where,’ Tony said as we came to a halt face to face with them.

  ‘Home?’ he sneered, looking at all of us. ‘Hey, McCabe!’ He singled out Jamie. ‘I heard your ma’s goin’ to the laughin’ academy
! She’s mental!’ he said, goading Jamie about his mum, who everybody knew was close to breaking point.

  ‘Fuck off, Cowan, ya Orange bastard!’ Jamie spat. His fists were clenched by his sides. My legs felt weak. Dan was breathing hard. I thought he was going to sprint away.

  ‘Who are you callin’ an Orange bastard, ya Fenian shite!’ Billy’s face was contorted with rage.

  ‘You,’ Tony said, walking towards him. ‘You, that’s who. Now piss off, before you get your ass kicked.’ We were almost walking through them as Billy’s pals seemed to stand aside. Suddenly it happened.

  ‘Your ma’s gettin’ shagged by big McCartney! She’ll let anybody shag her for a free drink!’ For the rest of his life, Billy Cowan would wish he had never said that. I had never seen anyone turn the way Tony did. The colour seemed to drain from his face into his T-shirt, and he swivelled around and was on top of Billy before he knew what hit him. Two of Billy’s pals jumped on Tony’s back, but he kicked upwards like a horse and knocked one flat on their back. He pulled the other one over his shoulder. Jamie jumped in and punched one of them to the ground as he tried to get up. Another jumped on Jamie. Dan leapt in and started punching everyone and anyone, shouting, ‘C’mon, ya bastards. Are ye want it?’ I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was standing jumping from foot to foot. Tony was killing Billy. He was straddling him on the ground and swinging punches at his face. The blood was pouring from Billy’s nose and mouth. I saw a tooth pop out on to the road. Tony’s face was crimson and he couldn’t stop punching. His eyes were full of raging tears. I screamed at him to stop, but he didn’t hear me. He was lost in a frenzy of rage. I tried to jump in and pull him back. But it was all chaos. I was rooted to the spot.

  Suddenly there were the big hairy arms of two men dragging Tony off Billy and pulling Jamie and Dan back.

  ‘Are you all right, Kath?’ It was Kevin and his pal, big Dessie O’Hanlon. Relief flooded through me. They were laughing at the antics of the boys and trying to hold Tony back.