Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Place of Safety...part 1...

Colm and Brendan get in a fight with some Protestant boys and one was beaten, badly, so they ran off. Now they're headed home but get rousted at a British checkpoint. The soldiers are on edge; two of their men were found murdered, the day before, and word is the IRA has begun its resurgence.

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The Sergeant eyed the scrapes on my face and grabbed Colm’s arm to look closer at his bandage.

"What's this?" he snarled at Colm.

I gave a small laugh. “Me mate was playin’ the cod, is all. “

“Shut the fook up, ye fookin’ taig.”

I shrugged. “Call me what you want, but I was workin' on a car and me mate was actin’ stupid and got under it to play and kicked it off its block. The cut’s from the tail pipe hittin' him as it fell. Me boss tied his arm and it took the three of us to set the car right.”

“Ye fookin’ liar -- you fix cars? A nobody like you?”

I snorted, this time. “I can fix any car there is.”

He smiled at me, cold and hard. “Yeah? I got a Land Rover leaks oil. Nobody can tell me why. All the seals are good and no cracks in the block. What the fookin' shite is wrong wit’ it?”

“What’s the year?”

“Sixty-three.”

“Model”

“S-4.”

“Is the head tight?”

“’Course it fookin’ is.”

“Sure of that? If you put a normal jointing, it needs to twice be turned, to make sure. I used double joints and compounds when I fixed Dr. Wiler’s; went hard on the fastening. Colm helped me with the last turn of the spanner.”

Colm nodded, without hesitation. “It was bloody hard. Bloody thing won’t come off without major surgery, for certain.”

“Hasn’t had a leak since,” I said, smiling.

Another soldier came up. “What about a Volvo 122? Shifter comes out the gear box.”

“That’s the bloody car’s design. Put it back in and screw it closed, is all you need to do.”

“Not what the mechanic said. Needs doin’ just right, fastened down just right.”

“Yeah, and how much’d he charge you?”

“...Twenty quid.”

“Each time?”

“I...I didn’t say it was more’n once.”

I let myself chuckle. “Next time it comes out, put it in yourself and see what happens.”

“So you do know cars,” the Sergeant said.

Another soldier came over, his fingers itching to pull the trigger of his rifle, his eyes darting between Colm, me and the Sergeant. “Are we sendin’ off or keepin’ ‘em, sir?”

The Sergeant just turned and walked away. The first soldier said, “Off wit’ ye.” And they let us go, him calling "Thanks," as we went.

And we went. Fast. So fast, we were halfway down Fahan before I realized I was shaking, like mad. And Colm had been dead silent. Then I coughed. Again. Colm looked at me. Pulled me around Fox's Corner. Stopped me.

“You didn’t cough once, in front of that bastard.” I couldn’t speak. He eyed me. Saw me shaking. His face grew gentle. “C’mon, me china, let’s to home.”

I just started walking, that bloody cough still popping up, now and again, but my shaking eased...till Ma looked out the door and saw me and burst up and slapped me for being late.

“I told you to be home by four!” she screamed.

“It was the checkpoints, Mrs. Kinsella,” Colm said.

“You should’ve allowed for that!”

“You’re lucky we’re home, at all, and not at Castlerock. Bren kept us from that.”

“And what would he have that they want? You and your lyin' ways, coverin' for each other and -- ” She slapped the back of my head and grabbed my collar to yank me inside. 

“Mrs. Kinsella!" His voice was sharp and cold. A man's voice, not a boy's. “I’ll ask you not to hit Brendan, again -- ”

Ma glared at him. “You’ll mind your own business, me boy, or -- ”

Colm took a step closer and Ma shut up and I stopped shaking. “Colm! Won’t...won't they check my story? Do you know if...if McClosky’ll back it up?”

Colm's voice was like ice. “He will...once he knows.”

“Best get to him. Set it straight.”

Colm nodded, his eyes locked on Ma. For the first time since before Da died, I saw wariness in her face. He backed away, giving me a pat on my shoulder. “You’re an odd one, Bren...and I’m glad you’re with us, not them.”

I sort of smiled at him...and he left.

I turned to Ma and said, “I’d not call him a liar, again. I don’t think he’d like it.”

Then I went up to my room and sat in my bed and gazed out the window at that ugly bloody yard, behind us, and I did not move till supper.

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