The Bogside Boys

by Eoin Dempsey

  “What question was that?”

  “The one about children. Do you have kids?”

  “I do. I have a son - Jason. He’s fourteen.”

  Mick took a sip from his now lukewarm tea and placed the cup back down. “Fourteen? That wasn’t long after I went away.”

  “He’s a great boy, really smart and funny.”

  “He doesn’t get involved with any…?”

  “Oh God, no. He’s not perfect, far from it, but he knows to stay away from all of that. I’d kill him if I ever got wind of him getting involved with anyone like that.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’d never have believed you if you told me back in ’72 that this’d all be still going on now. I’d have thought we’d have come to our senses by now.”

  “Have faith, we will.”

  “Here we are, talking about politics again.” Mick smiled, as much to see her smile again as anything else.

  “Yeah, no matter how we try and wriggle away it always seems to drag us back in. What was it like inside?”

  “It was bad. It could have been worse, I suppose. I was never directly involved in any of the blanket protests or the hunger strikes, just because I didn’t have to be. I had the rights they were prepared to die for, just because of when I went to jail, but being out is definitely better.”

  “I suppose you appreciate freedom more than anyone now.”

  “I appreciate everything about the world. It’s as if every sense in my body is heightened after being neglected for so long. I love the smell of the bakery and the feel of fresh bread as I break it in my hand. I love listening to the birds sing in the morning or sitting on a hill staring at the stars. I’ve spent nights awake just waiting for the sunrise. It’s all so special to me now.”

  “That sounds wonderful, I’m so happy for you,” she said, before realizing how it must have sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean going to jail was wonderful.”

  “I know what you meant,” Mick said, smiling across at her.

  “I’m glad you’re able to appreciate what we take for granted.”

  “I appreciate life now, how fragile and wonderful it is. I intend to live mine well.”

  She felt energy spread from him and through her as he spoke. It took purposeful effort to look away from him, to stop herself from staring.

  “You look incredible,” he continued, his voice soft and wistful. “How do you look so young, especially chasing after a teenager all the time?”

  “Thank you, you’re very sweet. Not everyone agrees with you though. My boyfriend buys me skin treatments all the time. I think he’s paranoid I’m getting wrinkly or something.” She saw the twitch in his eyes as she mentioned the boyfriend she no longer even had. This was just too fast. She had to do something to stop this yet she couldn’t quite force herself to get up and leave him. She was enjoying this far too much.

  “He should count his blessings. He’s a lucky man to be with a woman like you.” He stopped himself from saying what would naturally have come next – that she’d be beautiful her whole life, that her eyes would never fade or the light within her would never dull. But he needed to slow himself. His heart was beating like a jackhammer and his palms were damp. He brought them down and rested them on his thighs, wiping the sweat on his jeans. The mention of her boyfriend had stung, but it was a boundary for him to respect, and he was used to boundaries.

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  “In Waterside. It’s a lovely house.”

  “So not all that much has changed then.”

  “Some things are different, but essentially we’re the same people all our lives aren’t we? I mean, our circumstances might change, our priorities sure as hell do but are we really that different?”

  Mick let out a little laugh. “I’ve been through a lot and I can certainly say that my priorities have changed. But am I all that different? Probably not.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “I have a small apartment in town, not too far from here. I walked over. I had no excuse to be late.”

  “Other than the fact that you’re always late, that you’d be late for your own funeral?”

  “Aye, you’re right. We don’t really change, do we?”

  Melissa smiled, but it melted quickly. A spurt of panic shot through her. This was too much. She needed to make an excuse and leave. She picked up the teacup and held it to her lips, taking a small sip. She needed to leave, so why didn’t she? His eyes were on her as she looked up at him again.

  Mick reached down for his coffee. The cup was empty. He hadn’t noticed drinking the last of it. He brought his hands back down to his sides, leaning back on the chair. He was glad she had a boyfriend, happy that he knew it. Harboring some kind of false hope that the dream of being with her again could be real would be too much for him. He thought of the IRA man he’d harbored on the floor of his apartment the previous week, the plans that he’d been tasked to come up with for another bank robbery. That was his mission now. There wasn’t any time to think of anything else, not until he’d struck a real blow against them. The time for life and love and joy and happiness would come after that, and there were other women in this world, just none like her.

  “How do you want to go forward?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is our first class together, the first of the year. We’re going to be in the same room every Monday night for the next nine months. I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “I never thought you were going to get out of jail, let alone without a cane and gray hair sprinkled on your head. I don’t know. I’m enjoying seeing you again.” She cursed herself for saying that, instantly wishing she could take it back.

  Her words warmed him. “I’m enjoying seeing you again, but where do we go from here? Are we going to be friends?”

  Jason came into her mind. She wasn’t prepared for this, hadn’t had a chance to think things through. Was he the same sweet, gorgeous man she’d fallen in love with? Would there ever be a chance for them again? She knew him, knew his history, knew his motivations, his honor, and his shame. She knew it all.

  “I don’t know what happens from here.” She reached down for the teacup, ran her finger around the circumference. “Let’s take it slowly. I don’t think I’m ready to be friends quite yet.”

  “I understand that.”

  “You’re a good man, Mick. I know that. It’s just that…. I wasn’t prepared for this. I need some time to take it all in.”

  “That’s fine. I’m not asking anything of you. Let’s just wave for now. I’ll sit on the other side of the class, and wave. You think you can handle that?

  “I reckon I can handle a wave.”

  “And if you ever need notes, you’ll know who to come to.”

  “All right. It’s going to be weird, but all right.”

  “This whole thing’s weird, but we deal with it the best we can,” he said, getting up. He stood looking at her for a second or so before he spoke again. “I’ll see you next week, from across the room.”

  “From across the room,” she replied, and watched as he walked away. She sat there for several minutes alone. She had stopped thinking about this day years ago, had stopped dreaming that he’d come back to her in her twenties. How would Jason react to him if he knew who he really was? Mick was ex-IRA, the enemy of everything decent, yet she had always known he wasn’t one of them. Going to jail had been the final act to prove that he wasn’t a murderer, that his heart was true. She picked up the cup and drank back the last of the tea. It was cold.

  Mick stopped as he reached the corner. The night was drawing in, the clouds blocking out the starlight above. His lungs gasped for the cigarette he refused to give them. He shook his head, trying to laugh off meeting her as if it was a joke, or an interesting story to tell, but it was more than that.

  Chapter 21

  Mick held up the pasta and watched as it lolled back and forth on his fork.
He still relished every piece of non-prison food he ate, still couldn’t comprehend the sheer choice and quality of what was available virtually everywhere he went. Pat sat opposite him, tucking into a steak. Mick hadn’t mentioned meeting Melissa four days earlier, even though he’d seen Pat every day since.

  “Are you all right?” Pat asked.

  “Yeah, I'm okay. Why d’you ask?”

  “You’ve had your head in the clouds all week, with that big dumb smile on your face.”

  “This big dumb smile?” Mick said, using the fork to point to himself.

  “That’s the one. You’ve had that plastered on your face all week.”

  “Maybe I’m just happy, brother.”

  “I’m glad. I’m delighted. Is there anything going on? Did you get laid or something?” Pat smiled. “Or is it more? Wait a minute, did you meet someone?”

  “What makes you assume it’s a woman?”

  “What else is gonna make you smile like that?”

  Mick put down his fork and picked up the teacup in front of him. He rolled the tea around inside, watching it splash on the side. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just happy to be out, enjoying my food, enjoying my life.”

  Pat didn’t reply for a few seconds and sat back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. “Come on, spill the beans, you can’t hide it from me. I have your DNA. I know what you’re thinking. I can reach inside that mind of yours.”

  “Why are you asking if you can see inside my mind?”

  “Come on, I’m married twelve years, share a little excitement with an old guy would you?”

  “There’s nothing to share, not yet at least. I’ll tell you all about it when there’s something to tell.”

  “OK, I can take a hint. There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

  “It’s not my outrageous love life is it? Because I already told you…”

  “No, it’s a little more serious.” Mick put down his knife and fork and sat back in his seat. Pat sat forward, motioning for his brother to do the same. Pat looked around, making sure no-one was listening to them. “It’s about Sean Campbell. I know you’ve taken him under your wing.”

  “To some extent. He’s a big boy though.”

  “I’ve heard he’s involved again, that he’s joined an active service unit in the city. Did he mention anything to you?”

  Mick’s blood went cold. He forked more pasta into his mouth, doing his best to hide behind it. It didn’t feel right to lie to him, but Pat wouldn’t understand what they were trying to do. It was too early to tell him. Mick shook his head. “No, I don’t know anything about that. I know about his brother…”

  “We all know about his brother.” Pat picked up his teacup but didn’t drink from it. “His brother Tony’s a dangerous man. He’d bring us all back to the bad old days if he could, back to when we were in.”

  “The bad old days?”

  “OK, the worse old days. Worse than now, which is saying something.”

  “I don’t know anything.” Mick’s nerves jangled inside him. If Pat had found out about Sean, then what was to stop him finding out about him, and his so-called involvement with the IRA again? Thoughts crackled through his mind like sparks spat from a flame. Maybe Pat would help him if he let him in. Keeping this from him was alien to anything he’d ever known, felt alien in every way. Pat was looking at him across the small table. Mick brought his hands down to rest on the vinyl tablecloth. It was too soon to tell him. Mick would need to speak to Sean first, to figure out a plan. Things were changing. The picture of Melissa drifted into his mind. Was she more than just a complication? Would she be a reason to leave this all behind?

  “Are you all right, brother?” Pat asked. “You don’t look so good all of a sudden.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little upset that Sean might have joined up again. We’ve all done so much to try to turn that kid around.”

  “Have a word with him. Find out what’s going on. I don’t have confirmation that he’s active, yet. Try and find out where his mind is.”

  “I’ll speak to him, find out what’s going on.”

  “Good man.” Pat brought the cup of tea to his lips and took a sip. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

  “No, no. There’s nothing. I’ll find out.”

  Mick began eating again, trying to avoid eye contact with his brother for a few seconds at least.

  Sean was alone on the second floor of the worksite when Mick found him later that afternoon. Sean glanced up as he sat down beside him.

  “I had a conversation with Pat about you at lunch today. He knows. Somehow, he knows.”

  Sean turned to him, his blue eyes blazing like gas fires. “What does he know? What did he say?”

  “He knows you’re back in. I have no idea how. I don’t know who told him.”

  Sean put down the drill in his hand. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were searching for extra seconds to think about the information Mick had just given him. “What about you?” he finally said.

  “He didn’t mention anything about me, but if he knows about you…”

  “Then there’s no reason for him not to find out about you too.”

  “I thought to tell him, to admit what I was doing.”

  Sean shot panicked eyes at him.

  “I wouldn’t mention you. I’m not taking this lightly. I know what it would mean if this got out. I’ll pull the plug on this before I put you in danger,” Mick continued.

  “Those are very sweet words, Mick, but you’ll forgive me if I’m not completely reassured.”

  “I’ll handle my brother, Sean, and I’ll handle this. You just need to keep talking to your own brother, keep gaining his trust and find out about this big operation he’s planning that no one else in the Derry Brigade knows anything about it. I’m starting to wonder if we’re risking out lives for nothing.”

  Sean paused, his eyes flicking back and forth.

  “There’s no one around. I checked,” Mick continued.

  ‘This little crusade was your idea,” Sean hissed, struggling to stay within the bounds of his whisper. “I was ready to leave this behind and get on with living.”

  “Who’s stopping you? You can do whatever you want. I would never have known anything about this massive operation your brother was planning if it weren't for you. Is it genuine?”

  “Yes, it’s genuine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’s been talking about it for nine months now, and because he’s completely disillusioned with the direction he perceives the IRA to be going in now. He’s disgusted by the talks with the SDLP; even the mention of peace without absolute victory is a stab in the back to him. He’s serious. He’s very serious.”

  “But you don’t know when or any details.”

  “He hasn’t mentioned any specifics yet. I don’t think he knows himself.”

  “So we’re risking our lives for something that might never happen.”

  “You knew all of this already, but you don’t know my brother. If he says something, he means it.”

  “He’d better. I made bombs last week. I’ve helped them rob banks in the south. I’m helping the cause I’m trying to destroy.”

  “Now who’s the one who wants out? We can finish this, get out while we still can. This was an insane idea. They’re completely paranoid, obsessed by informers. We’re going to get caught.”

  “We’re not going to get caught if we stay smart.”

  Sean closed his eyes, raising a gloved hand to cover the terror on his face. Was this a person that Mick wanted to risk his life with? Sean was tough. He’d proved that much in prison, but this wasn’t his war, not any more. He’d done his time. Mick put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

  “Things are quiet now. Apart from that botched bombing in the Creggan there’s not much happening. This could be a good time for you to step down, unofficially at least. All you ne
ed do is keep talking to your brother. You don’t have to be an active member.”

  “That won’t work. He’s only talking to me again because he thinks I’m one of them. I only earned his respect once I went to jail for the cause, before that he told me nothing.” Sean reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “What about you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I need to stay in. If I’m to affect anything I need to be on the ground when it happens. I can’t stand the thought of working with the RUC, or the British Army, the people who killed my father.” The mention of his father’s name drew a black veil over Mick’s vision. He closed his eyes to try to wipe it away.

  “What about the Gardaí? You could go over the border, talk to them.” Sean suggested.

  “About what exactly? I’m only a bit player at the moment. It’ll take us years to get back in to the extent where we have any truly meaningful information to give. I’m not risking my life to give up an arms dump or to stop a bank robbery in the south. I can’t do this for how long it would take to climb the ranks and become a full time member. I don’t think I’d make it.”

  Sean held the pack of cigarettes up to Mick, who shook his head.

  “How did I ever let you talk me into this?” Sean said.

  “I didn’t talk you into anything. You did this yourself. And you can get out anytime. You know that.” Mick knew that Sean looked up to him; probably still felt he owed him after looking after him inside. “You don’t owe me anything. I’ll do this without you. If you feel like I’ve forced you into this…”

  “You didn’t force me into a thing. You just showed me what this all is and what needs to be done.” Sean placed the cigarette between his lips. It flamed red as he lit it.

  “We need to hang in, just keep in touch with who we can and learn whatever we can learn about what’s coming up. If we could have done something to stop that ‘good neighbor’ bombing a couple of weeks ago, that would have been worth it.”

  “That’s tiny compared to what my brother’s talking about. He wants this operation he’s talking about to be a defining moment in the Troubles so far, this generation’s hunger strikes or even Bloody Sunday.”