He was all talk about the big news about the rezoning of the land. He wanted to know how many brown envelopes Johnsey had left inside in the civic offices, hoo hoo hoo. He wanted to know was Johnsey related to Oliver Cunliffe beyond in Latteragh, Oh are you not and Oh sure your father was Jackie, I knew him, he used to hurl with my father, sure they played Junior B until they were gone fifty, ha ha ha, they were tough yokes, Oh that was your mother so who died not long ago, sorry for your trouble, go on anyway, how much did you leave inside with that shower of crooks?
Was it you got the hiding off of Eugene Penrose and that fella from town and those other two apes? Penrose got an awful fright, you know. He nearly shat himself apparently, when your man went to town on you. He doesn’t know who he’s mixing with, there. That lad is deadly dangerous. He’s a pure knacker. He wore a pool cue off of one of the Comerfords and you know how tough them boyos are. Penrose is like a child with a new toy whenever a bigger knacker than him turns up. Do you work below in the co-op? Oh ya, I was thinking. You get dog’s abuse there some days off of Penrose. I seen him at it a few times. And the other two fools with him. If Penrose opened his mouth you’d see their four cod eyes looking out at you, they’re so far up his hole.
Begod Packie Collins wasn’t long about replacing you! That feckin Polish lad was in like a fly on shit; I’ll tell you one thing, you can’t turn your back on those boys, they’d take the eye out of your head, I can’t wait till this swelling goes down and I can open my feckin eyes, I’d say that nurse one with the nice voice is flaking, hoo hoo, hey youssir, I said I can’t wait till this swelling goes down and I can open my feckin eyes, I’d say that nurse wan is flaking, I can’t wait to get a good look at her, whoo boy I could sure do with a ride, ha ha ha, sure she sounds like she’s gorgeous but we have to be prepared for an awful shock, she could have a face like a bag of hammers, ha ha ha, sure any port in a storm, maybe we’re as well off if she’s a right manky-looking yoke, not to be lying here with two horns on us every time she walks in, hey, how does that work with these tubes in our mickeys, anyway? Have you a tube in your mickey too? Isn’t that an awful liberty? I don’t know about you, boss, but them nurses can take as many liberties as they want with my mickey, ha ha ha ha ha!
MUMBLY DAVE made the Lovely Voice laugh. That was the thing about Mumbly Dave that really tormented Johnsey. How well he had to go and fall off his ladder and break his stupid face. How well he couldn’t have broken his neck instead. How well they couldn’t have left that old clamp on him another while. He was full of old sugary shite, that Mumbly Dave. Sure, he was a gas character. Ha ha fucking ha. How could he have a new joke or bit of smartness ready every single time the Lovely Voice came near them? You’d be heartsick, pretending to laugh. If he didn’t hear a laugh out of you, he’d say the same stupid thing over again, only louder. He’d wear you out, so he would. If this was the alternative to loneliness, he’d sooner be lonesome forever. People could be quare hard work. He’d never known that before.
Another thing about Mumbly Dave was he kept farting. Johnsey had a pain in his stomach most days from trying not to let off. He had his arsecheeks clamped shut half the time. It had gotten to the stage where the farts didn’t even bother trying to escape any more; they got as far as his hole and turned back. Then they’d be all knocking around his insides and fighting with each other for space. It couldn’t be good for a man having all this pressure building up inside. Anything was better than filling a room with fumes, though, and having the Lovely Voice or one of the other nurses walking into a stinking cloud. Mumbly Dave thought it was the height of craic. He’d let rip day and night and then for devilment he’d put the blame on Johnsey. Once or twice his great big smelly farts coincided with the Lovely Voice entering their room and just as she did the rotten fucker’d say Jaysus, Johnsey, you’re a bad yoke, would you not try and hold it in and a lady in the room and then he’d mar dhea apologize on Johnsey’s behalf, the dirty, rotten bastard! The Lovely Voice would laugh and say Don’t worry, I’ve smelt worse, and there was nothing you could say then; you couldn’t be denying the fart and sounding like a young fella in primary school. Then after she was gone Mumbly Dave would be woohoo-ing and laughing away to himself and saying Jaysus, youssir, I caught you a beaut, and all you could do was lie there and imagine yourself sneaking over to his bed in the night and ramming a stolen fork into his mouth with all your strength. That’d soften his cough.
Some days the Lovely Voice would come in and close the door to the corridor and sit down and she’d tell them Say nothing, Sister is on the warpath, I’m safe in here with the blindman buffs, God I’m knackered; so boys, any news? And Mumbly Dave would be out with something smart straight away like asking was she out the night before and was she up late or what and the two of them would take off laughing and it felt like they were ganging up on him and he hated Mumbly Dave more than he’d ever hated Eugene Penrose or Dermot McDermott or Packie Collins or the townie lad who’d kicked his face in or any of the cool lads who’d mocked him in school. Why did Mumbly Dave have to come along and wipe his eye? The Lovely Voice was his bit of pleasure; she used to have private jokes with him, it wasn’t fair that the first proper woman to ever whisper in Johnsey’s ear and send a bolt of electricity down his neck and along his arms and into his balls and down his legs as far as his toes was now being taken over by a big, fat, stupid bullshitter.
JOHNSEY AND MUMBLY DAVE got their eyes back on the same day. Mumbly Dave woke up that morning and said Bejaysus you’re uglier than I thought you’d be, hey I said you’re even uglier than I thought you’d be, hey, hey, youssir, you’re a sight for sore eyes, ha ha ha ha ha, and Johnsey could only lie there and look blindly in the direction of the guffawing donkey and think this is the end of it now, he’ll take one look at her and fall in love with her and he’ll carry her off like Richard Gere in that film where he’s in the navy or something and he has a big fight with a black lad and takes off on a motorbike and into the factory where the good-looking wan is working and he’ll pick her up like that in his arms and carry her off and all the other nurses and doctors and the few patients around the corridor will stop what they’re doing and laugh and clap and cheer and Johnsey will be left here alone with the cranky old ward sister and his langer stuck to the side of his leg and his big baby tears queuing up behind his bandages.
Your swelling is gone right down, that’s the anti-inflammatory, it takes the swelling right down, isn’t it lucky you’re on my ward; I give out all the best drugs, ha ha ha. Then Mumbly Dave, her new pet. Ha ha ha you’re a gas ticket, bejaysus, I’ll tell you one thing, though, the swelling is gone from my face but tis starting somewhere else ever since you walked in, ha ha ha. Then the Lovely Voice: You dirty fecker, ha ha ha, and she mar dhea giving out to him. He had some neck, that Mumbly Dave, he had some front, that fella, with that dirty talk out of him, and she laughing back at him, and wouldn’t you think she’d tell him call a halt to the smut now, but thick ignorant fuckers always get ahead in life, Daddy always said that, and he was right. Then she was saying As for you, your bandages will come off today for good according to your chart, unless Doctor Frostyballs changes his mind, and he realized she was talking to him and he said Oh, oh, right, cripes that’s great, and she was gone in a sweet breeze and there was no big laugh and joke for him the way there had been for Mumbly Dave.