‘I’m a more kind, understandable, lovable person than people think I am.’
‘Ditto.’
He exclaimed.
Struck him, he might just use the initials, be part of the zeitgeist where you were fucked
unless you were a an initial
See
BLT
IRS
IRA
LOL
AND HIS FAVOURITE
DOA.
Plus, you got the added bonus of sounding like a Syndrome, which were hot shit now, so
ADB…………………..oh yeah, that was serious virus, lethal you might say.
He sighed, enough fun, he had a lot of work to do and first, was dump the latest wunder-
kind in the East River.
‘I WAS BORN WHERE THERE NO ENCLOSURES AND
EVERYTHING DREW A FREE BREATH. I WANT TO DIE THERE AND NOT
WITHIN WALLS.
TEN BEARS, COMANCHE, AT MIDICINE LODGE, 1867.
‘Thank you for the lovely roses.’
Shona said.
We were in at the restaurant in Central Park, enjoying late Winter sun, I was a-glow, as
we’d made love the evening before and Jesus Wept, it was brilliant.
Roses, the fook do I know from roses, asked
‘What?’
‘This morning, after you left, I was lying in bed, replaying…………um………you know,
stuff……
Gave a wicked smile
………….’And the flowers came, with a note, signed, ADB, I thought you’d tell me what
it stood for?’
I said
‘Wasn’t me alanna.’
Alanna…………what is that?’
I was trying to figure out the initials, stopped said
‘Alanna, it’s a term of deep endearment back home.’
Her smile was something to memorize, she asked
‘And is it, deep?’
We’d finished brunch and I was waiting for the cheque, only Americans could come up
with a full meal betwixt break fast and lunch. I said
‘Oh yeah,’
Meant it.
But she was a woman and what do they do?
Probe
Question
Push
She did
With
‘Why do you still wear your wedding band?’
Holy fook, you have a moment, intimate almost and a woman, she’d dissect it to frigging
death, till it loses all of it’s original meaning. I had already told her about the Cladding
wedding ring, the two hearts and how the really old one’s had a gold ring welded to the
original heart N’ Hand ring.
I said
‘The ring was my mother’s, passed down from nigh three generations of Claddagh
women.’
She liked it.
Took my hand, then using her left one, she slid the colored wrist band she always wore,
slipped it onto my wrist, said
‘Comanche.’
From fooking urban cowboy to Indian, you go to guess, God is taking the piss.
I said
‘Gur a mhile maith agat.’
Before she could ask, I added
‘Thank you in Irish.’
She liked it, a lot, asked
‘You want to hear some Comanche?’
I said
‘Weren’t those shrieks last night, a war cry?’
And she was about to be offended, but went with a lush vibrant laughter then nearly
marred it with
‘You have cop eyes.’
It was open air so I could smoke and simmer.
Lit a Lucky, exhaled slowly and she said
‘I’ve offended you.’
She had.
But what the fook, I lied, said
‘Just I don’t know what that shite means?’
She was still holding my hand, her band on my wrist catching the late evening sundown,
casting shadows that suddenly seemed ominous or maybe I just needed a Jameson, fast.
She squeezed my hand, said
‘Ryan, everything is not a threat, I meant, you are always vigilant, checking out every
exit, watching every person’s move.’
I tried to ease down a notch, said
‘Is bronach an athas ar fad.’
She looked at me so I translated
‘Happiness is my deepest sorrow.’
Might not always make sense but it was always, for me, true, more’s the fookin Irish-ed
pity.
She had called it right on one thing, I was afraid, afraid of the one thing I truly didn’t want
……………..to fall in love.
WITH A MERCY THAT OUTRIDES ALL OF WATER.
Merrick picked me up outside my apartment on our day of visiting the first suspect, he
was driving, I fookin kid you not, a pick up. I got in the shotgun seat, said
‘Jesus, if Hank Williams is playing, then I’m living the American dream.’
He’d been to Starbucks, handed me a piping hot latte, grande, asked
‘No sugar, right?’
I was surprised, said
‘You’ve a good memory.’
‘Naw, just a cop too long.’
A Gypsy cab came out of Flatbush, cutting us off with but a heartbeat to spare. Merrick
screeched on the brakes, and my coffee spilled on to my jeans, burning like a bastard. I
muttered
‘Oh motherfucking fuck.’
Merrick looked at me, asked
‘That’s Irish?’
I dabbed at the spreading stain, said
‘Tony Soprano.’
He watched the Gypsy cab disappear then wrote down the license plate. I asked
‘You going to see him later?’
He tossed the number in the back, said
‘I’d like to but no, one of my buddies on the Force, he’ll ream him a new one.’
I took a sip of what remained of my coffee, asked
‘A new what?
He laughed, said
‘I keep forgetting you don’t speak American, it means, ream him a new asshole.’
I said
‘Jesus, I thought we were bad.’
He asked
‘You good to go or want to go back, change your jeans?’
The stain wasn’t too bad, I hoped so I said
‘No, we believe it’s unlucky to turn back on a journey.’
He was maneuvering the tunnel into Manhattan, reaching for the toll, said
‘Didn’t figure you for superstitious.’
I nearly laughed, my race?…………said
‘It’s just we hedge our bets.’
He flicked the radio on, got a rock channel, we heard Don Henley
…………………The Innocence.
Killer.
I said
‘You’re always asking me about the Irish and yet, despite you saying I’m closed, you
give me fook all of your heritage.’
He seemed to be laughing at some inner joke, said
‘Maybe if you asked now and again, you’d get an answer.’
So I asked
‘What’s it like to be Jewish?’
He was gritting his teeth, at my question or the tailgating, I dunno…then
“ We used to be persecuted, but now.’
I waited and got…nothing
Asked
‘Now?’
He smiled
‘We’re hedging our bets.’
Out of nowhere, he asked
‘What about your old man, what was he like, A Guard too?’
I laughed, out loud, Jesus, said
‘Him, a Guard, what a fecking joke, like he had the balls to ever put himself on any firing
line. My mother said on the day we buried the spineless prick, she said
………………………….he never said anything bad about anybody.
Merrick was confused, asked
‘But that’s a good thing, yeah?’
I drained the coffee, wish I had more it, with a double shot of Jay, said
‘Made him a cute hoor is what oh and before you ask, a cute hoor is a sly bollix is what.’
Christ, was I hyperventilating, where’d that come from?’
Merrick said
‘Good you have a handle on it though.’
‘Don’t stop believing’ was blasting from the radio, he reached to turn it down, I asked
‘Don’t’
We waited for the song to reel on then I asked
‘So, who’s up to today?’
He said