The Ginger Man

  Dangerfield was running like a madman down the middle of the road with the cry get the guards pushing him fasten Into a laneway, bottle stuffed under his arm. More yells as they caught sight as he went round and down another street Must for the love of God get hidden. Up these steps and got to get through this door somehow and out of sight quick.

  Heart pounding, leaning on the wall for breath. A bicycle against the wall. Dark and racy for sure. Hope. Wait till they are by the house. Feet. I hear the heavy heels of a peeler. Pray for me. If they get me I'll be disgraced. Must avoid capture for the sake of the undesirable publicity it will produce. Or they may take clubs to me. Suffering shit

  The door opens slowly. Light shining in through the dark. Dangerfield moves cautiously behind the door as it widens against him. A small head peers in, hesitates. I must be upon him for the sake of safety. Sebastian drove his shoulder against the door pulling the figure in by the neck.

  "If you so much as breathe I'll belt you to death."

  "No. Jesus, Mary and Joseph I won't make a peep"

  "Shut up. Give me that hat. And the coat"

  "O none of that, I'm a man of God. You don't know where to stop"

  "I'll stop you living if you don't shut up and give me that coat"

  "Yes sir. Anything you want sir, anything, but don't harm an old man, sir. I'm a cripple from birth, sir and I'll help ye get away. All I can."

  "Get up the stairs."

  "What are ye going to do with me at all. I've got a Friday to go out of the nine first Fridays."

  "You won't have a minute to go if you don't get up the stairs. Up to the top and stay there. If you utter a sound I'll come back and disembowel you."

  The little blue-eyed man stepped backwards up the stairs, stopping at the first landing and ran tripping up the rest. Sebastian getting into the coat. Shoulders get in, sleeves at the elbows. He bends over to pick up the brandy. The coat parts down the back. Peers out the door. No one in sight. Take all care, proceed with caution. How did I ever get into this frightful mess. How fantastically undesirable.

  Down the three granite steps. Which way? From around the corner, a blue uniform and helmet God's unmerciful teeth. The Guard stops, looks, starts forward up the street Dangerfield setting his vehicle firmly in the gutter, straddling it, pushes off pumping fearfully followed by the voice of the little man out the top window of the building.

  "That's him all right He's got me coat and hat That's him."

  The bike moves off speedily up the narrow road and around the corner into a screaming of horns and the bottle slides, bangs his knee and breaks with a wet pop on the street Policeman in the middle of the road directing traffic. Putting his hand up to stop. Couldn't know it was me. Can't take the chance, onward you crazy Christian soldier, peddling off to doom.

  "Hey you, stop there. Stop there you. You hear me, stop. Hey"

  Helter skelter for St. Stephen's Green. Bike wiggling on the cobbles, skidding on the tram tracks. Dangerfield bent double over the handlebars. Licking his lips. Eyes wet with the wind, blinking and blind. They'll have the patrol car, if they have one, after me or maybe motor bikes or the whole force on roller skates. Traffic lights ahead. Whoa. Red for stop.

  The bike making a wide arc in front of the oncoming traffic. More horns and screech of brakes. And on down the street aswann with children until one small boy dodging right and left in front of the wiggling machine found himself beneath the panting Dangerfield.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No I'm not."

  "Are you sure?"

  "No I'm not hurt."

  "I'm very sorry, little boy. Must rush. Here, you can have this damn bike as a present, before I get killed on it."

  The child left standing in the middle of the street, staring after the man who took off his hat and flung it behind the railings and bundled up his coat which followed it, opening, fluttering down.

  Through this Cuffe Street. Up Aungier. Flat out. I'll keep up the pace. Get down this alley here and get through all these backyards. Walking between the white walls and piss smells. Don't want to be trapped either.

  Dangerfield walked swiftly through the labyrinth of lanes into a little square with a lamp standard and more children. Stepped into a doorway and waited. No one behind. A little girl dragging a boy by the hair in the gutter. Kid screaming and kicking his legs. Bare feet swollen and cut. Another boy comes out of the house with a bundle of newspapers yelling for her to leave him alone and he gives her a punch on the arm and she kicks him in the knee and he grabs her and throws her down. She claws and scratches at his eyes and he bends her arms back and she spits in his face.

  Sebastian leaves his doorway and walks slowly out the lane. Navigating widely and back and around and coming out along these terraced, red brick houses each with a polished knocker and curtains and little precious things at the first floor windows. Straight out this road I can see the Dublin Mountains with evening sun on them and I wish I were away out there with a massive wall built all round me. Into the tree lined street Crossing over smartly. Slamming the little gate. Down the steps. Rap, rap. Wait. Silence, rap, rap. My God, my dear Chris, don't leave me out here for them to get me.

  "Hello."

  Voice behind him.

  "Jesus."

  "What's happened to you?"

  Chris carrying packages, her face wreathed with concern as she came down the steps behind him.

  "Let me in."

  "Hold these. There's blood all down the back of your neck."

  "A little misunderstanding."

  "O dear. Have you been in a fight?"

  "Little upset."

  "Now tell me. Just what did happen?"

  "All right. I'll go."

  "Now don't be such a fool. Come in, sit down. Of course, you won't go: But you can't expect me to be all complacent when you just suddenly appear all covered in blood. How did this happen?"

  "It happened."

  "Don't talk nonsense. Hold still. I'll have to boil a kettle and wash it. You've had too much to drink. Does it hurt?"

  "No."

  Chris in her drawer. Picking out the bottles. Iodine. Water in the kettle.

  "Chris, I want you to tell me how I can get away from evil in this world How to put down the sinners and raise the doers of good. I've been through a frightful evening. Indeed, my suffering has been acute and more. More than sin or evil or anything. I have arrived at the conclusion that these people on this island are bogus."

  "You had a fight, didn't you?"

  "Most ungentlemanly incident I think I've ever experienced."

  "In a bar?"

  "In a bar. The rudeness on this island is overwhelming."

  "Well? How? Why?"

  "I went into this public house for a quiet drink. Stone cold sober. Man seizes me by the arm and twists it—says get out —you're drunk. I said, I beg your pardon but I'm stone. Naturally I left under the maltreatment that was in it. Now I'm not an evil person, nor do I ever encourage any type of trouble. However I returned to this bar later, ordered another drink and they attacked me brutally. Disgraceful behavior. All on me like a pack of wolves. Trying to put me down and jump on me. It was only by employing the most elusive tactics that I succeeded in escaping with my very life. I have no doubts but that they are searching the city to visit me with more abuse."

  "Now really."

  "Come sit by me, Chris."

  "No."

  "Sit by me. I'm most upset."

  I'll do your head."

  "Can I stay here tonight."

  "Yes. I think you ought to have a bath."

  "I've got to get out of this damn country. Honest to Christ."

  "Any pennies?"

  "None."

  "You'll have to have a threepenny bath."

  Helping him to take off his clothes. Out into this damp bathroom with the bathtub up on lion's paws and the cold sticky floor. In blub, gurgle slub dub glub. Foamy white face, no one to recognize me. Forever to walk backwards in the st
reets. The yellow light and green cracked ceiling. All last year you were in here in the tub while I was haunted and sad on Howth.

  "Come away with me, Chris"

  "You've had too much to drink. Say that when you're less confused."

  "What? I say, confused."

  "Turn around and let me dry your back."

  "I want you to."

  "I just can't suddenly decide something like that."

  "You want to?"

  "Where? And your wife and child?"

  "We'll all manage."

  "And your degree?"

  "Have to wait till I can regain my senses. I am in an awkward position."

  "You are."

  "You're giving me the evil treatment. Now I don't deserve that"

  "Pull the light. I'll make you some chocolate."

  No way out except the big way. I have put myself into a most unfortunate position. I hope to God that they don't catch me and put me in prison. They saw me ride madly through all the streets of Dublin. Please don't put me in Mountjoy prison, unless I'm given charge of the library. To be married to you, my dear Chris. But what has confounded me is blood. I was such a believer in blood, establishing the dynasty of Dangerfield, honorable kings of kingdoms and I have gotten as far as i Mohammed where the shit falls from the ceiling in a most sickening way and the bread is a week old and the tea like iron filings. I desire to be away in a more civilized country. What's to happen to me when I am old. And bent and busted.

  Chris bringing two white cups to the table. She is all undressed wearing a robe. My head feels better. And she fills the hot water bottle. I can only say roll up the carpet of the earth and put it away till next summer, things will be better then. We two in the bed together. I think this is the only peace I have had for years. My dear Chris, to put my hand on your bare arse is such a pleasure. And to touch and feel you're near, for both of us are protection. All together in here. And we are, aren't we? Let us pray. To St. Jude for the impossible or is it allowed to pray for an orgasm?

  13

  I can't bear to get out into the chill air with my legs all stiff and head hard with some of the things that have been on my mind all night

  Sound of Chris dressing. She put a tray beside his bed before leaving. Of toast and one piece dipped in dripping, a slice of bacon and cup of coffee. She kissed him on the head, tucked him in, whispered his breakfast was there and was gone.

  Spending the afternoon reading and worrying. A look, now and again, out the window to see what was to be seen. Police or informers. But just casual persons. Mostly bent and carrying. But it would terrify the life out of me were I to see the squad cars out there. My only hope is to lie low and maybe grow a moustache.

  The bed is pleasant With my head resting. If I had the things which are in this room. Lust brought us together. But a horrid word. I think love. But what puts us apart in the bed at night I turn over on my shoulder away from her and her back and go to bye byes trying to be alone. I can't even remember what I do with Marion. Being the sort of person I am, I make life pleasant for everybody. I'm not hard to live with. No bad breath or secret vulgarities. My dear Chris, I hear your feet

  "Hello, Chris."

  "You're an awful liar"

  "What?"

  "Here in the paper"

  Chris hands him the paper. Center and fat and black with the size of print and reading:

  MAN AMUCK IN PUBLIC HOUSE

  Chase through streets

  What was reported by a witness to police as a most savage attack took place in Kelly's Garden Paradise, licensed premises, yesterday evening.

  A man described as "foreign looking" with an English accent was reported to have entered above premises in a threatening mood and to have set upon the occupants in a wild way.

  Witness to the attack told police that he was having a quiet drink with friends when there was shouting and commotion. He turned to see a man throwing a bottle of whiskey at the head of the bartender who ducked and went down through a trap door in the floor. The man then vaulted over the bar and smashed everything in sight. He turned upon occupants who had no alternative but to escape to the street

  The accused then ran away and was followed by witness who alerted Guards. He found the man hiding in a hallway but was threatened with violence and told to give up his hat and coat. Culprit then escaped on a bicycle. Several Guards and citizens gave chase to the top of Stephen's Green but all trace was lost in Cuffe Street where it is thought he may still be in hiding.

  Guard Ball, who returned to the scene of attack for evidence, stated that the general condition of the premises gave every indication of being that of a battlefield.

  Witness, whose four fingers were broken in the attack, was treated at St. Patrick Dunn's Hospital and allowed to go home. The search for the culprit, described by police as being tall, of light complexion, wearing tan trousers and sports coat, is being continued as it is thought that he may be insane. His eyes were given as very wild.

  "Libel."

  "Sound as if you were attacked."

  "I was, and set upon viciously."

  Chris silent, bending over the gas ring. Dangerfield sits strained and pitiful on the edge of the bed. The Evening Mail hangs open between his knees, eyes tearfully seeing that big print O there was a man amuck.

  Sebastian stands and walks to Chris's side. He puts his hand on her rump, taking up flesh in his fingers. Her head turns away from his mouth and pushes down a hand from her breast

  "If that's the way you want to be, Chris"

  "It is"

  "All right"

  He goes to the door, opens it quickly, closes it quietly, steps into the drizzle and street, bleak and black.

  Dear Blessed Oliver, martyred, quartered and generally chopped up, I'll tell you one thing, see me right out to the Rock without a horde hounding me and I'll publish thanksgiving in the Evening Mail,

  On the empty evening bus coming down the curving hill into the Rock. Neon lights. Little line of figures waiting at the cinema. A delightful little place.

  Stepping off the bus, walking swiftly to the green door of i Mohammed. Knocking. Nothing. A few knuckles on window. No sound, no light inside. He went back to the door. Pushed it and pulled. Locked and stuck. He withdrew a pace and lunged. The door fell down. Gingerly into the hall, he picked it up and pushed it back in place. He yelled. Nothing. Up the stairs, the bedroom empty. Nobody home.

  And the weather was so dreary and dark. All night now. The only thing the rain does is to keep down the dust and me. Now Marion, you blue blood from Geek, wife and washer, slave to all me dirty little wants, where and what have you done and gone.

  He came downstairs into a barren sitting room and kitchen. A white paper on the stove held down under a tin of beans.

  As you can see, I have moved.

  11 Golden Vale Park

  The Geary

  Co. Dublin.

  I don't know what to do except this sounds like a house with running water and I could do with a bath. Perhaps it's nice. Get the hell out of here before Skully sticks his thick skull in for rent or. some other repulsive request The Geary, A rather posh area I gather. Golden Vale Park. O lovely. Say that again. Golden Vale Park.

  There was one last house in the road of houses squat, semi and detached with concrete blocks dividing off front gardens of tiny lawns and flower beds. Passing number seven and nine, houses of caution and saving and iron gates to stop dogs' befoulment. People who lived here owned cars. My God has she only taken a room and maybe nowhere for me.

  He paused in front of the little green gate to examine the latch which was quite tricky. In the garden were choice rhododendrons and the odd laurel. At the side a garage attached to the house. What in heaven's name have you done this for or why and you didn't tell me. I won't have it The rain running off the leaves and bing in puddles. I'll just walk up this concrete path and make believe I've come to the wrong house. Looks like a garden in the back, a path around the side. This calls for indignat
ion. I won't have it, I say, I just will not stand for this.

  Could hear the bell ringing inside. And the steps coming. Can't see a thing through this frosted glass.

  Door comes ajar.

  "Let me in for God's sake, Marion."

  Door slams.

  "I say, Marion, are you alone? Really, this is ridiculous behavior. You can't do this"

  Circling the house with great care looking for flaws. The lavatory window open. Sebastian scrabbled up the wall, knees knocking out the stuccoed stones and he fell, head first into the washbasin. Marion was in the door.

  "Why don't you leave me alone. You desperate bastard."

  "Don't call me a bastard when I'm breaking my damn neck trying to get in this house. For Christ's sake help me on to the floor. Why didn't you let me in the door?"

  "Because I don't want you in the house. This is my house and I can call the police and have you thrown out"

  "For the love of God, Marion, have you no mercy? Look at me, I'm soaked to the skin"

  "And you weren't home last night"

  "Delayed"

  "What happened to your head"

  "A frightfully decent chap asked me to play squash and I busted my head on the wall. A damn good player, but I just managed to beat him"

  "O get out why don't you"

  "Just for playing squash? I say, let's play the game, A most influential chap. His father owns—"

  "Get out I spent all day packing and moving and I'm not going to listen to you lie."

  "Forgive me. It's such a nice house. Just let me look around. Are you here alone. All this ?"

  "Yes."

  "How much?"

  "My business"

  "But Skully."

  "You can still live there."

  "O Jesus. Come on. Look, just five minutes' peace. It's got a hall. This is very nice, Marion. Can I see in here?"