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Authors: J. P. Donleavy

The Ginger Man (14 page)

BOOK: The Ginger Man
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Dangerfield taking a chair, and stepping on to the table, wound his fingers around the electric light and yanked it from the ceiling. There was a blue roar of flame. Layers of plaster crashing to the floor. Screams all over the black room.

"Mary and Joseph we're being murdered"

"Get your filthy hands off me"

"Who did that?"

"I've been robbed"

"I've been goosed Wow."

Through the dark Sebastian led Mary and together they pounded up the iron steps to the street A horse cab was passing.

"I say, my good man."

The cab stopped.

"Tell me where can the lady and I get a drink?"

"Certainly sir, certainly."

They climbed into the mouldy interior. Sitting on a mass of torn upholstery and damp rugs.

"Isn't this great, Mary?"

"What did you pull the light out of the ceiling for? You could have killed somebody."

"I was appalled by the depravity and the general slump in morals. Does your father ever hit you in the chest, Mary?"

"He hits me everywhere. But I can defend myself."

"I'm going to take you to The Head. Mary. Where we can drink with a better class of people."

"I think I better go home."

"Why?"

"I have to. You go to Trinity."

"How do you know?"

"One of the girls told me. All these Trinity students are the same. The only nice ones are the black ones. They're gentlemen. They don't get personal or fresh."

"Mary, I may not be black but I'm not bad."

"You just laughed at those people in the back room without any clothes."

"They were having congress."

"Fancy names."

Under the train trestle went the horse cab. Past the monument makers. And a shop where I used to keep my rations. A milky, cold smell. I often bought two eggs and one slice of bacon. From a bowl-breasted girl. She eyed me. And once I bought oatmeal and went out and got dreadfully drunk across the street. Invited the pensioners in for a pint. They all came in adjusting scarves, coughing graciously. They all told me stories. About men and their daughters. I heard them before but once is never enough—got to have them more often. Later I spilled my bag of oatmeal all over.

Sebastian kissed Mary. She put her elbows over her breasts. But she's opening her mouth. And she's got a hard little back and thick thighs but I can't get my hand to her bosom. Can't squeeze it in under here. Not an inch. Say, Mary, how about you and me going where the olives grow? Or at least where it isn't so goddamn damp. Boy. your lips are narrow.

Now that we are going along the quays, it reminds me of how much I would like to see a bit of largess. This grabbing Mary is a little embarrassing because she's as hard as a rock and is almost trying to fight me. I get that impression. She had hold of my hand then and without question gave it a twist. I'll twist it right back and take it off altogether.

"Mary, I've got something to show you."

Sebastion took a match box out of his pocket. Pulled it open and showed Mary a replica of the Blessed Oliver Plunket.

"Are you a Catholic? Sure you're not?"

"Mary, I'm everything. Especially a Catholic."

"You can't be Catholic and something else as well."

"Mary, I'm a big wind from East Jesus, a geek from Gaul."

"You're just trying to kid me. And I have to go home. I live over the Capel Street Bridge."

"Now, Mary, I want you to see this fine old inn. Finest of its type in Europe. And I'll sing you a song."

O the Winetavern Street is the silliest

Of the streets full of fury,

O the very, very best

For this moo from Missouri

"Like it?"

"You're a gas man."

"When all the world is funt, Mary. That's the time"

"You're crazy"

Sebastian whipped his head out of the window and had a polite word with the driven

"Mary, we are going into a nice warm room with a fire. And I'll buy you a few nice drinks and we can sit and talk. I'd like to talk with you about Papish things. We would never get along without the Pope. He keeps a little dignity on this earth. If we had a few more like him there wouldn't be all this lechery and deceit. Mary, there are a lot of bad people in this world."

Mary rolled her head on his shoulder and whispered:

"I want you to kiss me again."

Sebastian bolted, eyebrows raised.

"I say, Mary, really!"

"Don't embarrass me."

I can see the Courts of Justice across the river. O the pleas of trespass against the peace of the King in the kingdom of England, made with force and arms, ought not, by the law and custom of England, to be pleaded without the King's writ. O these little things of law. I know them all. And a river is a natural stream of water of greater volume than a creek or rivulet. And the Liffey is a river. And the dome of the four courts is like a prostrate bub. But never mind. This Mary, her spatulate rump, twisting on her tough, tight body. Sit on my knee, now while I learn off the laws of sewers. A lot of strange things happen to one, of an uncanny nature. Perhaps if I had a fish, dead and slime and if I kept Miss Frost's window open and the curtains closed and wait for nosy Skully to stick his head in and give him a violent lash in the face. Splosh. Right in the eyes, too. Slish. Take that, cad.

There was a bump as the cab passed over the sidewalk making the turn into Winetavern Street. The scruffy vehicle pulled up to a closed iron gate. Horse snorting nervously. Case of fleas. Sebastian stepped out gingerly and the man asked him for a pound.

Two of them waiting in the silence. This was to be a case of slight misunderstanding. A time for measuring one's words. Sebastian began quietly.

"I say, old boy, how would you like to spend Christmas in the 'Joy,' with
your teeth dropping out of your Catholic arse?"

"It's a pound this time of night"

The man looking through lethargic eyes full of shillings. Looking down into the wild, bloody eyes, all gray round the red globes,

"Perhaps you'd rather that I kick this rolling rat trap to pieces and give you a Celtic baptizing in the Liffey, you vulgar thug"

"I'll call the Guards."

"What?"

"I'll call the Guards."

"What? God damn it"

Sebastian's hand shot out and caught the man by the coat until his face was plunging towards the street and his feet were caught in his seat

"God damn it, another bit of insolence out of you and I'll ram this horse and casket up your hole. Do you understand me?"

"I'll call the Guards."

"You won't be able to call your god damned mother when I'm finished with you. Lout. Hear me? Lout. A pound you bastard. Festering sneak. No decency in you. No love. Do you know what love is? Where's your love, you bastard? Why I'll throttle you to death if you don't show some love. Show me some love or I'll strangle you."

A vague smile came to the man's mouth. His eyes, two holes of terror. Little scene on the Winetavern Street. Mary came out, tugging at his fingers around the silent man's throat

"Leave him alone. What did he do to you? Why don't you pay the man his money and leave him alone."

"Shut up."

"You're a terrible person"

"Shut up. We're all going for a drink"

A glimmer of hope in the man's eyes, and guilt Sebastian, still holding him by the throat

"Will you come in for a drink ? "

"All right, I'll come in for a drink."

"I want to go home"

"It's all over now, Mary. This gentleman will come and have a drink. You'll come and have a drink too"

"I want to go home. You're an awful person"

"Not at all. This gentleman knows he was taking advantage of me. I know how much it is to Winetavern Street"

Man's evasive eyes.

Sebastian went to the iron gate and reached in and pressed a bell behind the wall. Waiting. Sebastian rattling the gate. A suspicious whisper came up out of the black alley.

"Who's up there? Stop that racket Go home to bed— there's nothing down here."

Sebastian put his face between the bars.

"Travelers from the West Just ten minutes. We're friends of the man with the beard."

"Go on with you. Get out of here. What do you think this is?"

"We're sent by the man with the beard. Friend of the corpse."

The voice came nearer.

"Let me look at you in the light and stop the noise. A man couldn't be dead down here with the likes of you carrying on. Let me see the faces. Who's the woman? No women allowed here. What do you think this is?"

"Now, now—she's a Dawn Beauty."

"Dawn Beauty, my virgin bub. I can't have this sort of going on—you've been here before—what's all this racket? —you ought to know better. Don't make any noise coming in and get out fast"

"O you're a fine woman with a build of a woman of thirty."

"Go on out of that Where's the man with the beard?"

"He's in Maynooth. He said the price of drink was scandalous and for a few prayers he could get it for nothing."

"Don't be blasphemous now and watch those barrels. You're a troublemaker you are—have my hands full with the lot of you."

"Now, now, Madam—"

"Don't call me madam—I know what you're up to."

Group moving slowly. Down the alley. Through a door. Along the black hall. And into the yellow light of the medieval room. This is the pineal eye of the world.

"Where's Catherine, the girl? Send her with two scalding malts and spot of gin for the lady and anything for yourself. And I wouldn't be past a bit of bed with you."

"O go on out of that and no noise, mind."

In this semi-circle of expectation. Twisted bulgin' sofas. Not much British fellowship here in spite of the sportiness of the room, with hunts racing everywhere. Catherine is a beauty and so's Mary around the nose and eyes. But this is a horsehair sofa. Say after me, Mary.

Sebastian

Thou art blessed,

And Sebastian,

Also the true song.

A tinder of night together

With being

A bargain basement

Of kisses.

Get astride me.

Touch, whoops, tender

Me,

Mr. big tree of love.

Catherine, the maid, pushed through the door with a tray of drinks. Regarding Sebastian with a sly, shy grin. Blue-eyed, and a bit of the Celtic bovinity around the ankles. The horse-cab man wiping his mouth with his sleeve and the lip of glass with his hand to purify it. Mary sitting still, smoothing out her skirt and watching Sebastian.

"Now, isn't this nice, Mary?"

"It's all right."

"It's a good bit of malt, sir."

"Rather."

"It's been showery weather"

"For sure."

I don't think I'm getting far with this conversation or with Mary. Play on her sympathy for being outside the church and grace. Might be the thread needle hole to her own. I've got a cloacal grip on life. Lot of people have said that. Nor am I going to let go. If there is illusion, live it with a flourish. I'll get you, Mary. Just like Marion. In the good old days I had Marion wrapped around. My finger. Up to get the tea. And toast. That was love. But I killed it. Things just don't last. They change. And sometimes they multiply, like babas.

The woman of the establishment came in.

"Now that was the last round. I have to get my sleep."

"One for the road and for yourself. Weary travelers we are."

"Do you want to have me arrested ?"

"For fear we get killed on the highways."

"Go on out of that. You're a fine one. Once you get in here I can't get you out. Just one more. Catherine, two whiskies and a gin, and get a move on. Can't get an ounce of work out of them these days with all their fancy clothes and going out to dances. A while back I'd take the arse out of the likes of her and her men friends. They don't want to work these days."

"They don't know their place."

"Don't I know it Up from the country and you'd think they was from society. Take that out of them"

"Catch them in the first-class"

"The likes of them should walk—never mind riding in the first-class"

"Discipline. More discipline"

"Out with black men every night of the week. I'll pound that out of them"

"There'll be a day of reckoning for all their laziness. That's for sure"

"And it won't be too soon."

"I'm a great believer in the fairness"

"It's all right"

"Now if you'll excuse me a moment, I must make wee wee"

"That's thirteen and six."

"My driver will see to that."

Sebastian felt his way through the hall and out a door under the sky. He pissed indiscriminately. He met Catherine coming back in the darkness. They locked. And she put her hand between his legs. And dropped the tray with a dang. The hall suddenly alight.

"What's going on? Now I won't have any of this going on with my girls. Stop it Catherine, take your arms from around that gentleman, you dirty little slut."

"Now, now, everything's all right. Catherine and I were lost in the hall."

"I've had enough of your carrying on, Romeo. And get back into that kitchen you, the very nerve of you. Slut."

Sebastian gave madam a pinch in the bottom as he waltzed by and she slapped his hand. O good O. We'll all go and sit under the shittah tree. Something that no one knows is that I pawned a mirror of a public toilet. One of those modern jobs, just screwed in. I had the end of a fork to take them out and went to my broker. Then I went to the Grafton Cinema to have a supper in the pseudy tudy interior. Sitting by the window from where I could see Dawson Lounge written up on a high wall. Happiness can be uncomfortable. And waiting for food it was great but I called on a few fears to temper the glow of conservative mellowness. The waitress, a lovely black build of a girl. full mouth and white teeth and healthy breasts full of opulent undulation as she came with plates of stuff. O the hunger of it

Madam stood at the door. huge bosom coming out the hall.

"Now that's all. the lot of you out of here now, before the Guards come breaking down the door."

"And let me thank you for a fine evening."

BOOK: The Ginger Man
8.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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