I'm currently working through a new direction Brendan wants to take the story...not sure how I feel about it except it makes me nervous, which probably means I should follow it...but I'm still skittish.
Anyway, this is maybe fall, 1967...I haven't set the exact time, yet.
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Anyway, this is maybe fall, 1967...I haven't set the exact time, yet.
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I got started working on cars when Colm’s Da was having trouble with the heater in his black taxi. It was a cold day but not bitter, anymore, and he was parked near the bus landing jumping back and forth from under the bonnet to beneath the fascia to see why it wasn’t warming the ten year old piece of junk when Colm and I raced up. Ma had found my hiding spot for my scratch and taken it all as well as giving me a hiding for not handing it over, so I was bust and Colm thought he could beg a few schillings off him so we could pop over to Woollies for some hot cocoa.
But we found him in a foul temper, cursing and slamming his fist against the front wings of the car ... uh, fenders. Colm was of a mind to just let him be but I got a curiosity up and peeked under the bonnet to see what he’s doing.
“Don’t touch a thing, Brendan,” he snarled at me. “This bloody beast’s already jabbed me twice with shocks.”
“Isn’t it grounded?” I asked, not really knowing much about cars.
“Somewhere a wire’s touching metal, now and again. I think it’s shorted out the heater’s motor.”
That made no sense to me. In a lamp or radio, it’s easy to find a shorted wire. Why not in a car? Being small, I dropped to the ground and was able to slip under it to get a look.
Colm jumped into a rage. “Bloody hell, Bren. We’re not here for this!”
“Give us a minute, Colm.”
“You’ll bloody dirty yourself, and I’ll not be seen with you.”
“Since when are you a Teddy Boy?”
He kicked my shoes, for that. Teddies were notorious for being poofters after lads like Colm. He was already well on to being adult in body if not in brain. Me, I thought it odd him always talking about having to shave when I had little more than soft down about my chin, yet, and us near the same age.
Anyway, I got a look at what I later learned was the back of the core, and it was a holy mess of trash and half the floor rusted away, so I cleaned it away to get a better view and found a wire hanging there but not attached. I noticed a similar wire on the other side had a cover on it so, using my screwdriver, I put it back where I thought it went and pulled out from under the chassis to say, “Mr. Lemass, have you something to put over this wire down here? It’s missing a cover.”
He dropped to his belly to look under the car at me. “What d’you mean? Brendan, if you’ve made a muck of anything, I’ll box your fuckin’ ears.”
“Right here, see? There was a wire loose and caught in some twigs and leaves. It’s missing the cover.”
He looked hard and could just see what I was pointing to. “It’s a glove, the cover’s called,” he said. “Get out from under.”
I did and he started the car up and turned on the heater as I tried to brush off the mud and dirt and oil that’d caught my trousers. Colm looked me over, rolled his eyes and headed on without a word. No patience in that lad.
A bus came up from who knows where and an estate car parked behind us, in the area meant only for taxis. Mr. Lemass said nothing, just focused on the heater ... and in a moment, he almost smiled.
“It’s working, so far,” he said.
“I’d not run it till you put a glove on that,” I answered. “Not if the other wire has one.”
“Right you are.” And he turned off the heater and the motor, then he got a look at me. “Aw, Brendan, your Ma’s about to be right sore at you.”
The grease on my hands had only streaked when I tried to wipe it off on my trousers. Nothing massive, just obvious.
I shrugged. “They’ll wash.” Then I crouched down to dip my hands in some water in the gutter and looked up and saw an older lad lifting some bags into the estate car as a woman of maybe Ma’s age trudged up to the passenger side, both big and looking very much like mother and son.
And caught between them was this girl...silky golden hair drifting down her back to be caught in a chilly breeze, a tam-o-shanter atop her head, form enough to her body to make even the fur-tufted coat and colored stockings seem perfectly female on her. She handed a last parcel to the older lad, and then turned to reveal a perfect face of clean skin and rose-hued cheeks and eyes bright enough to fill a room with light. She caught a good look of me washing my hands in the filthy water, and I jolted to my feet at realizing the sight I must be making to her.
She almost laughed, her eyes dancing with humor and no judgment. Her lips red as cherries without the touch of rouge, without the touch of anything on her face that might hide her elegant complexion. I laughed back, spread my arms and shrugged as if to say, “I’m a slob.”
“Joanna!” The bark came from her mother, whose hard cold blue eyes glared at me. “In the back!”
She got in the estate car and her brother hopped behind the wheel, casting me a frown that seemed to mix both wariness and condescension. As they drove off, I heard her mother say, "It's not right to make fun of little street urchins."
"I wasn't," was all I heard her say back, and my heart went with her.
Then Mr. Lemass gently popped the back of my head, smiling. “You’re aiming high with that one.”
Embarrassed, I said, “I dunno what you mean.”
He just shook his head, still smiling, and tossed me half a crown. “I mean learn to keep yourself clean and smelling good. Drop by Wellworth’s; they’ll have something for that.”
“Birds really go for that?” I asked, using a word for girls that I’d seen in a movie.
“Never hurts. Hop in, I’ll drop you by.”
I looked at my now filthy clothes and for the first time caught the idea that maybe Colm had the right idea in keeping himself tidy. You never know who you’ll run into in Derry, and if I did chance to see her, again, it probably was better if I really was presentable.
“I’d best walk. Don’t want to mess your seats up.”
“You’re a daft one, Kinsella.”
“Well, the next time you need something fixed on your car, this daftie’ll probably handle it well enough.”
He laughed. “No doubt. But it is something you might consider. Looks as if you have the touch for it.”
“You think so?”
He nodded. “Good future in it. Cars’ll always need fixing.”
“What won’t? Thanks.” And I flipped the coin then headed on to Waterloo Place.
But we found him in a foul temper, cursing and slamming his fist against the front wings of the car ... uh, fenders. Colm was of a mind to just let him be but I got a curiosity up and peeked under the bonnet to see what he’s doing.
“Don’t touch a thing, Brendan,” he snarled at me. “This bloody beast’s already jabbed me twice with shocks.”
“Isn’t it grounded?” I asked, not really knowing much about cars.
“Somewhere a wire’s touching metal, now and again. I think it’s shorted out the heater’s motor.”
That made no sense to me. In a lamp or radio, it’s easy to find a shorted wire. Why not in a car? Being small, I dropped to the ground and was able to slip under it to get a look.
Colm jumped into a rage. “Bloody hell, Bren. We’re not here for this!”
“Give us a minute, Colm.”
“You’ll bloody dirty yourself, and I’ll not be seen with you.”
“Since when are you a Teddy Boy?”
He kicked my shoes, for that. Teddies were notorious for being poofters after lads like Colm. He was already well on to being adult in body if not in brain. Me, I thought it odd him always talking about having to shave when I had little more than soft down about my chin, yet, and us near the same age.
Anyway, I got a look at what I later learned was the back of the core, and it was a holy mess of trash and half the floor rusted away, so I cleaned it away to get a better view and found a wire hanging there but not attached. I noticed a similar wire on the other side had a cover on it so, using my screwdriver, I put it back where I thought it went and pulled out from under the chassis to say, “Mr. Lemass, have you something to put over this wire down here? It’s missing a cover.”
He dropped to his belly to look under the car at me. “What d’you mean? Brendan, if you’ve made a muck of anything, I’ll box your fuckin’ ears.”
“Right here, see? There was a wire loose and caught in some twigs and leaves. It’s missing the cover.”
He looked hard and could just see what I was pointing to. “It’s a glove, the cover’s called,” he said. “Get out from under.”
I did and he started the car up and turned on the heater as I tried to brush off the mud and dirt and oil that’d caught my trousers. Colm looked me over, rolled his eyes and headed on without a word. No patience in that lad.
A bus came up from who knows where and an estate car parked behind us, in the area meant only for taxis. Mr. Lemass said nothing, just focused on the heater ... and in a moment, he almost smiled.
“It’s working, so far,” he said.
“I’d not run it till you put a glove on that,” I answered. “Not if the other wire has one.”
“Right you are.” And he turned off the heater and the motor, then he got a look at me. “Aw, Brendan, your Ma’s about to be right sore at you.”
The grease on my hands had only streaked when I tried to wipe it off on my trousers. Nothing massive, just obvious.
I shrugged. “They’ll wash.” Then I crouched down to dip my hands in some water in the gutter and looked up and saw an older lad lifting some bags into the estate car as a woman of maybe Ma’s age trudged up to the passenger side, both big and looking very much like mother and son.
And caught between them was this girl...silky golden hair drifting down her back to be caught in a chilly breeze, a tam-o-shanter atop her head, form enough to her body to make even the fur-tufted coat and colored stockings seem perfectly female on her. She handed a last parcel to the older lad, and then turned to reveal a perfect face of clean skin and rose-hued cheeks and eyes bright enough to fill a room with light. She caught a good look of me washing my hands in the filthy water, and I jolted to my feet at realizing the sight I must be making to her.
She almost laughed, her eyes dancing with humor and no judgment. Her lips red as cherries without the touch of rouge, without the touch of anything on her face that might hide her elegant complexion. I laughed back, spread my arms and shrugged as if to say, “I’m a slob.”
“Joanna!” The bark came from her mother, whose hard cold blue eyes glared at me. “In the back!”
She got in the estate car and her brother hopped behind the wheel, casting me a frown that seemed to mix both wariness and condescension. As they drove off, I heard her mother say, "It's not right to make fun of little street urchins."
"I wasn't," was all I heard her say back, and my heart went with her.
Then Mr. Lemass gently popped the back of my head, smiling. “You’re aiming high with that one.”
Embarrassed, I said, “I dunno what you mean.”
He just shook his head, still smiling, and tossed me half a crown. “I mean learn to keep yourself clean and smelling good. Drop by Wellworth’s; they’ll have something for that.”
“Birds really go for that?” I asked, using a word for girls that I’d seen in a movie.
“Never hurts. Hop in, I’ll drop you by.”
I looked at my now filthy clothes and for the first time caught the idea that maybe Colm had the right idea in keeping himself tidy. You never know who you’ll run into in Derry, and if I did chance to see her, again, it probably was better if I really was presentable.
“I’d best walk. Don’t want to mess your seats up.”
“You’re a daft one, Kinsella.”
“Well, the next time you need something fixed on your car, this daftie’ll probably handle it well enough.”
He laughed. “No doubt. But it is something you might consider. Looks as if you have the touch for it.”
“You think so?”
He nodded. “Good future in it. Cars’ll always need fixing.”
“What won’t? Thanks.” And I flipped the coin then headed on to Waterloo Place.
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