Traveller Wedding

by Graham Jones

7

  The church in which Gull and Mairead were married seemed lit by a thousand lights and yet no electricity was bein used. Much of the glass was blue and much had no pigmentation whatsoever, allowin a holy harshness assault the salmon marble pillars and little grey cathedral that was the altar. As Mairead made her way to the front of the church on Christopher-Angel's arm, preceded by bridesmaids Christy and Niamh, I moved my eyes across the half-full pews and reckoned my brother and sister would probably be happy with the numbers. Which is to say, there wasn't noticeable overflow. Nowadays the location of a weddin goes unannounced until hours beforehand. For years it used to be the day beforehand. Now it has to be kept quiet until you are literally walkin out the door. It's the only way to keep the multitudes from descendin and trouble from occurrin. You can't have trouble. After all - marriage is one of the seven sacraments.

  As my beautiful niece inside her cherry ripple dress and handsome nephew in his cardboard ash suit came to a standstill in front of the altar, I allowed my eyes move upward to the ceilin which was a yawn of yellow wood reinforced by brown beams. Hangin down, slim posters created by schoolchildren cryin Knowledge, Wisdom and Understandin. I scowled because that struck me as really hollow, lowered my eyes again and licked my lips which were a little dry. The steps to the altar were covered with the creamiest, softest yellow carpet and I noticed that our rotund and red-faced Father Andrew was shakin ever so slightly. Unable to hide the virtuosity he felt upon marryin travellers as he stood at his simple but heavily draped table with an open bible from which four or five coloured ribbons shot outward markin classic prayers.

  'The Lord God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air,' he said solemnly into the microphone. 'He brought them to man to see what he would name them and whatever man called each livin creature, that was its name. So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and beasts of the field. Yet for the man no suitable helper was found. So Lord God put him in a deep sleep and while he was sleepin took one of his ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man and brought her to the man.'

  We stood as Gull and Mairead took their initial vows and outlined their commitment, after which Father Andrew joined their hands together.

  'Do you take Jason Maughan as your lawful husband?' he asked Mairead. 'To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and cherish until death do you part?'

  'I do,' Mairead replied in her husky voice.

  Father Andrew asked them more questions concernin freedom of choice, faithfulness to one another and their feelins about children. Gull and Mairead answered the questions in hushed tones and separately declared they knew of no lawful impediment to bein married.

  It was at that point Michael entered the church, walked up to the bride and groom and started obtrusively shootin video with a digital handycam.

  Anger festered within me as he captured the blessin and exchange of rings, communion rite and preparation of a unity candle - because it seemed his entire life was constructed to infuriate me.

  'Jason and Mairead are goin to light their unity candle,' Father Andrew was explainin almost directly to Michael's camera. 'A symbol of their relationship and love - the candles from which they light it havin been lit by their parents in order to represent their lives leadin up to this special moment.'

  There was a place for me, auntie Christine, in one of three stretch limousines that drove to the hotel. Because we had booked a middle of the road place, our reception might have appeared superficially similar to many Irish weddins. It took place in a relatively small, oblong room on the second floor with poor quality buffets, tacky decor and dim lightin. Rows of tables with nothing but green paper cloth on them gave way to the dancefloor which lead right up to the head table, behind which was the bar and near to which a DJ stood with a collection of coloured lights stacked around him.

  Our men sat together at long tables - young fellas at some and older ones clustered together down the back. Meanwhile, we ladies had congregated up front. Husbands and wives, brothers and sisters did not sit together. The men were at one end of the room, women at the other. That was it.

  I was wearin a short green dress with a white belt, black leggins and these beautiful black heels with pretend diamonds in a downward line. My sisters and nieces were more darin. Every dress was pastel and burlesque. Each hairdo a phenomenon. Our make-up executed with the classy dash of geishas. Plenty of cleavage, too. If you doubted for one moment this was an important day, all you had to do was glance at us ladies.

  My brother and sister seemed to have accepted their kids were a married couple and were in great spirits. Gull had, after all, bought a beautiful cross for Mairead. Really thick. That's a done thing. Might come in handy down the road when things are tough. Something to fall back on. Y'know? She was wearin it around her neck and, actually, it looked a little ridiculous. Except that it didn't - because it showed how much she meant to him. It made me smile and nearly shed a tear. Gettin married was just so important.

  As I mentioned earlier, one of the reasons fairs used to be so important was because they were an opportunity to catch up with family. These days you would find yourself goin to a weddin more often than a fair and you got excited. Thinkin about who you might meet. One weddin often lead to another. Seriously. It was a great place for things to happen because there was already a certain feelin in the air - you knew those attendin were pretty much considered acceptable, otherwise no marriage would be takin place at all. It was the perfect place to find someone.

  I looked down and flicked one of the many red, coin-shaped rock sweets on the table with the words Just Married runnin through it and a grey heart in the middle. Then looked up, glanced around and noted that Mary Pat had abandoned her timid older sister Simone who kept runnin to the Ladies. That Mairead was dancin with Christopher-Angel. My cousin Marto dancin in his bare feet, although takin care to keep at least a foot and a half between himself and the girls. Auntie Nelly runnin around like a maniac grabbin children.

  Beside the dancefloor, Mairead's ma tryin to get people to queue for dinner one table at a time because it was intended as a buffet.

  'The weddin was awful!' Clean Christy was suddenly shoutin over at their table. 'But the reception is brilliant!'

  Joe Maughan locked on snakebites beside him.

  'It's a weddin,' he kept shoutin. 'You're supposed to drink!'

  Mairead's sister Cait tapped Gull on the shoulder.

  'Hi,' she said above the music. 'Just wanted to let you know, if you break her heart, we'll break your legs.'

  Yogi McDonagh stumbled over to me and asked what class I was in, despite my bein thirty six. It was the same question he always asked. I'll forever be a little schoolgirl in his eyes, because back then I was probably the only one.

  'Leave me alone Yogi,' I grinned.

  At the very end of the room Missy was sittin alone in some kind of strange, silk poncho with her arms folded underneath and a deliberately false smile sewin up her dimpled face. I could never understand that woman. Surely it would be better to make an honest choice to stay away than to sit here in that state. I skipped plenty of weddins and was beginnin to regret not havin skipped this one - but can't have looked like she did.

  'Are you crying?' Michael nonetheless asked as he placed his pint on my table, sat down beside me and steadied his handycam which now hung from his neck.

  'No,' I scowled at him.

  'It's great isn't it?' he cast his eyes around.

  'Thought you'd be disappointed,' I discarded my vodka and lime from Steph and started on the one from Evelyn. 'Nobody's fightin.'

  'That's hardly gonna happen here,' he blinked. 'Everything should be fine.'

  'What use is it so?' I asked.

  He looked away and sighed.

  'Sorry,' I smiled. 'How's it goin anyway?'

&n
bsp; 'Fine,' he nodded and looked at me. 'I got a place to live.'

  'No,' I said. 'How's it goin with the game?'

  'Oh,' he said.

  'I don't care about you Michael!' I teased.

  He laughed and cleared his throat.

  'It's goin well,' he said and began brushin the green paper cloth on the table. 'They gave us a games engine to work with. It's the engine from another game they did last year. Makes it easier.'

  His voice had that pragmatic, earnest tone settled people adopt when makin polite conversation in loud surroundins.

  'I don't know what you're talkin about,' I shrugged. 'But yeah? sounds great.'

  'The graphics are lookin good,' he added. 'The art and animation? We're very fussy. Keep re-doin shit.'

  'Right,' I nodded. 'Until it's perfect?'

  'Well,' he said. 'Within reason. But yeah. I like it. It's a small team. One project. One office.'

  'What's your boss actually like?' I asked.

  'Fine,' he sighed. 'We're stayin in close contact with the publisher too. I hate the fuckers, but if we weren't touchin base they would never publish a game like this - and I think they're gonna. I really think they're gonna. Isn't that great?'

  I smiled weakly.

  'It's only by knowin what they can live with and what they can't - that we'll get this title through,' he added.

  I nodded.

  'Gettin to the stage now where we can actually play the game ourselves,' he sighed.

  'Already?' I asked.

  'Mmmm,' he nodded.

  'Wow,' I sipped my drink. 'Can't believe it's really fuckin happenin.'

  'I know,' he nodded.

  Karaoke was gettin underway and Michael's cousin John launchin into Garth Brooks, his absolute favourite, with passion and focus.

  If tomorrow never comes

  Will she know how much I loved her

  Did I try in every way to show her every day

  That she's my only one

  If my time on earth were through

  She must face this world without me

  Is the love I gave her in the past

  Gonna be enough to last

  If tomorrow never comes

  'Well done son,' Michael sighed with his pint aloft. 'One thing we didn't realise, actually, was how hard it would be to do the different levels.'

  'Yeah?' I sighed, lookin back at him.

  'Yeah,' he said. 'We're snowed under. Can't afford to sub-contract things we really need to sub-contract? Think our initial design was too ambitious. Too free. Know what I mean? You could do anything at the weddin. Go anywhere.'

  He was tryin to tell me something.

  'I argued for it to be left that way,' he shrugged. 'But Simon said you need to have some kind of path. Or people will hate the game. You know what I mean?'

  'No,' I said.

  'It's like a hero's journey,' he sighed. 'The typical hero's journey goes like Ordinary World? Call to Adventure? Mentor? Threshold? Threshold Demon? Initiation-'

  'Oh shut the fuck up, Michael,' I said. 'Just get us both another drink - and make mine a double because you're about to fuckin get it and you'll need alcohol for the pain.'

  He stared at me and then started movin his tongue around inside his mouth while I looked over at my incredibly good lookin cousin Sean from Belfast who had started singin Elvis with real irreverence, jabbin his fingers at his delighted grandaunts.

  I've got a dirty, dirty feelin

  Dirty feelins goin on

  You know I almost hit the ceilin

  When I woke up and you were gone

  There were two hotel staff standin outside the doors of the reception room for the entire evenin. The lads were startin to get a little rowdy at the younger table, actually. Nothing serious. Just standin up and makin speeches to one another. Bobble Junior and Jimmy had taken the pledge for weeks beforehand, partly to save up for drinks and new clothes. You had to be careful what you said at these kind of events, of course, because we'd always be castin around for things to use against you. We would try to bait you, make you say things you'd be sorry for. Even that is part of the ritual.

  Ma sat down beside me in the long-sleeved, knee length dress she always wears to weddins, with large mahogany and beige squares driftin over tiny black and white ones. Ma has a boy's haircut nowadays, except it's grey and one of those offended faces - except her mouth insists it's purely out of concern.

  'What's goin on?' she gestured toward Michael at the bar with her glass of gin. 'Is he marryin you?'

  'Havin one of those mid-life crises they have,' I replied.

  She looked at me for a moment.

  'Who have?' she asked.

  'Y'know?' I said. 'Settled people.'

  'Oh,' she nodded slowly. 'But-'

  'He's a bastard,' I said. 'Is that clear enough for ya?'

  She nodded.

  'Leave me alone ma,' I snapped. 'He's comin back.'

  'Christine,' she said sternly. 'I won't be able to visit you in another one of those homes.'

  'I know ma,' I said. 'Now go!'

  She stood up and walked off before Michael returned with a fresh pint for himself and a double vodka and lime for me which I immediately started drinkin.

  'You're still pissed off with me,' he sat down slowly.

  'You're using us Michael,' I said.

  'This is the world I'm from!' he cried as his handycam swayed. 'This is what I know.'

  The song ended and suddenly you could hear the rasp in my voice.

  'Why not do it properly?' I asked. 'Make it about what it's really like to be a traveller. How hard it is fightin against all the shit we have to. That would be a good game!'

  'Nobody would buy it,' he pushed his former Guinness out of the way. 'Anyway, I can't write anything too complicated. The programmin team will kill me.'

  I squinted at him for a while.

  'Videogames have always been violent,' he said. 'It's just the graphics are a lot better these days.'

  'A lot of us don't like them,' I felt my eyes wellin up. 'I don't like them. Mortal Kombat and all that shit? Shame on the people who make that stuff!'

  'You don't have kids?' he smiled.

  Before realisin his mistake.

  There was the sound of feedback.

  'Please put your? hands together for the bride and groom,' said the DJ. 'Who are dancin the first slow number of the night.'

  We all applauded as Gull and Mairead started sleepwalkin to You're Still The One by Shania Twain.

  'I thought that would be us,' I nodded in their direction. 'Thought we would have all this.'

  Michael glanced at me as I started to cry.

  'I thought we would walk through this world together,' I said.

  He looked down in shame but I just looked around the room. Or my vodka and lime did. There was bald Joe Maughan in his puddle-coloured shirt with buttons open. He seemed to be watchin us.

  'What if they don't have a fight with their cousin?' I muttered and wiped my eyes.

  He glanced up.

  'What?' he squinted.

  'I said,' I sighed. 'What if the player doesn't have a fight with his cousin? Can he slow dance instead?'

  I was actually swayin slightly and Michael wasn't sure how to take me.

  'I hadn't thought about it,' he said.

  'The player should be able to do whatever they want,' I swallowed, almost defiantly. 'Otherwise it's not a real videogame.'

  With that I stood up and marched off.

  'You don't understand breadcrumbin!' he shouted after me.

  I stopped and turned around.

  'I can't fuckin believe you're doin this to us Michael!' I yelled.

  'Christine,' he followed me with arms raised. 'Come on?'

  'It's not fair on the ones who aren't like that,' I moaned. 'Most of our family aren't like that. It's quiet! We're very quiet!'

  There were people around us.

  'What's goin on Christine?' Steph was demandin to know.
/>   'I've got him sussed,' I said.

  'Huh?' Michael squinted.

  'Took me a while to realise what you were doin,' I nodded. 'Comin back? I knew it wasn't for your stupid fuckin videogame!'

  'Why then?' Steph asked.

  'He's easin his conscience,' I enunciated each word.

  'Right,' Michael looked away dismissively.

  'Makin himself feel it's okay what he's doin,' I studied his face. 'Makin himself feel it's okay what he's done.'

  'What have I done?' he looked at me again. 'Exactly?'

  'You've ruined my fuckin life!' I leant forward. 'And now you're ruinin all our lives.'

  'That's not true,' he looked at me. 'I came back to see you.'

  'You're a fuckin bastard Michael McDonagh,' Joe Maughan was suddenly growlin by his side, then spittin in his face.

  'What the fuck did ya do that for Joe?' Michael wiped his face, his beady eyes betrayin an anger I thought had died forever.

  What happened next went unrecorded.