The Butcher Boy

nearly ran away but I didn't I tidied myself up and coughed and scraped off the flysplats and the stew as best I could and then the door opens and there she was. I knew she'd look like that, a chain on her glasses and all.

There was no holding her once she got started oh she says its nothing now to what it used to be. In the old days I had twenty or thirty people at a time staying in this house and I says ah you probably wouldn't remember them all then but no she says that's where you're wrong old and all as I am, I never forget a face. I have a great memory for faces there's not one person stood in this house but I remember. Then she goes way back right to the very beginning of the old days. But the best year we ever had she says was the Eucharistic Congress, glory be I didn't think there was that amount of people to be found in the country, the crowds that used to land on that railway platform. Then of course after the war we had a lot over from England. And do you know what it is, not one of them would ever give you a bit of bother, paid their bills on time, never any fuss. Its not everyone's like that, I can tell you!

Are you all right for tea there, she says. I said: I am indeed.

Ah you'll have another drop she says. All right so I said.

I've had my share of important visitors too in my day, oh yes. Did you ever hear of Josef Locke? She pursed her lips and looked at me. I had never heard of him in my life but I stared over the rim of the cup and went: Josef Locke?

Yes!, she said. Three times he stayed here.

He sang for me and all she says, inside in the parlour. Oh what a wonderful evening that was. We had a schoolmaster used to come every year from Derry, Master McEniff, he played the piano. The melodies of Tom Moore. Do you know Tom Moore she says?

I knew Tom Moore that worked in the chickenhouse but I knew that wasn't who she was talking about. But I could still say I knew him. I do, I says.

It was an evening I'll treasure as long as I live she says.

Then she was away off again, some actor that used to stay and say poems and recitations. The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God, she says. Yes, I said, and The Cremation of Sam McGee!

I remembered that from the night of Alo's party.

Correct! she says, all delighted and passing me the biscuits.

Yes, she says. I always had lots of guests from the entertainment world, always did.

I was sitting on the edge of the chair waiting for a chance to get the bit in about da singing for her. I forgot all about my tea waiting for it. Then she says to me what you want to see young man is my collection of photographs. I have photographs of nearly everyone that ever passed a night under this roof. I don't know how many photographs she had, maybe a thousand. All these lads with faded brown faces and wide trousers. Sitting beside haystacks with girls. Shading their eyes staring off out to sea. Picnics too. I kept going through them and through them but I still couldn't find any of ma and da.

Oh that's such and such she'd say he stayed here for a whole month. He was a judge from Dublin, she was a relative of such and such, all this. But still no da. When we had gone through them all she shuffles them and looks up: Now what did you say your father's name was again?

Brady I said.

Brady then she says again, there was a Lucius Brady he was a musician he played the piano and a very good singer he was too as I recall what was the name of the song you said your dad sang again?

I dreamt that I dwelt in Marble Halls, I says.

Hmm, she says, of course I know the song but I can't say it rings a bell. He sang it, I said, he told me. You left the key under the mat for them! Mm? she says all surprised then. Oh no I'd never do that! I'd never do that! I don't know how many times she said that.

No matter she says then, wait till we see. She went through a few more Bradys, I had to keep saying all the time: No, that's not him.

What did you say his full name was again?, she says. Bernard Brady I said and she said it after me a few times shaking her head and it was only after I said Benny that her jaw dropped and she looked at me all different. From where did you say, she says, and when I told her she starts gathering up the photographs and humming and hawing. I says: He never stopped talking about the days here and the beautiful things and all that but all of a sudden she didn't want to talk about it any more she says I'd be as well gather up all these bits and pieces God knows I don't know where to start with this work. I said but what about da and that, you said.

But then she says oh I don't know, my memory's not what it used to be. She tried to make a laugh out of it. Old age is catching up on me she says ha ha. She was putting all the photographs back into the boxes and the album now and I said why will you not tell me, you said you'd tell me. She just shook her head. Please tell me I said I have to hear it I have to hear it no she said let me go. All I wanted to hear was something about them lying there listening to the sea outside the window but it didn't matter I didn't hear it anyway. When I said to her go on tell me you said you would she said: Get your hands off me do you hear me! What can I tell you about a man who behaved the way he did in front of his wife. No better than a pig, the way he disgraced himself here. Any man who'd insult a priest the way he did. Poor Father McGivney who wouldn't hurt a fly coming here for over twenty years! God knows he works hard enough in the orphanage in Belfast without having to endure abuse the like of what that man gave him! God help the poor woman, she mustn't have seen him sober a day in their whole honeymoon!

Then what did she do she said I'm sorry but I was in the hall when she said it it didn't matter now anyway I just closed the front door softly with a click. I went on ahead up the street who did I meet then only the manager. Oh he says did you find the place you were looking for. I did indeed I says and I gave him the thumbs up have a good stay in Bundoran he says I will indeed I called after him the wind was blowing I went into a shop and bought some fags I went down to the beach and smoked a few the sea was dirty and grey like a dishcloth there was a few boats I think there was three I smoked another fag some of the fags I just smoked half of them the others I smoked them all. I counted how many I had left in the packet. One two three I had three left. I went up the town there was a few people about they were going about their business there was a woman shopping and a council man in waders over a manhole and convent girls outside a cafe I bought a comb my hair was getting all tangled up. But the thing was that beside the shop where I bought the comb there was another shop I must have missed it on the way down it was a music shop. There was a dog hanging over the door, staring into a trumpet, trying to find his master's voice. I'm in here get me out Fido says the master. How says Fido. How do I know says the master just do it will you my best little pet dog? In the window anything you wanted. To do with music that is. A silver saxophone you could have that. Trumpets. Stacks of records and a redcheeked woman with her hair flowing and a half-knitted scarf of notes curving out of her mouth. She wanted everyone to sing along. I would. I'd sing along. I went in and who's behind the counter only the music man humming to himself and writing out notes on a music manuscript like da used to before he stayed out in the Tower all the time. The music man looked like a telegraph operator click click message for the marshal in Abilene and all this, with a big gold watch strung across his waistcoat. I said to him: I know something about you.

Oh he says and what might that be?

You know every tune in the world I says. I'll bet you know every one.

Not them all he says with a smile but a fair few, I'd say I know a fair few. I walked around. Gramophones, how many, twenty maybe. All kinds. Big trumpets, little trumpets. Any kind you want. Then what did I hear only this gurgling and when I look over what's that old music man doing only pouring himself tea. Want some? he says. A spot of tea, he says. He had some good sayings that music man. His sayings made me so happy I wanted to cry. But then what! Out of nowhere comes these cakes, would you believe it butterfly buns! Fuck me, I says, how did you know? He just smiled and said there you are and the tea looping and gurgling into the cups say when he says. I still don't know how he knew but it didn't matter I was away off filling him in on ma and da and the potatoes and salt and the song and saying the rosary on the rocks and everything. So he played the trumpet he says, your father. Yes I says and I told him some of the tunes. Well if he could handle that solo he says about one of the songs he certainly knew how to play a trumpet! He sure did I says licking the cream off my fingers. Outside the town had turned into glass the colour of dawnlight. There were tinkling mobiles in the shape of music notes hanging from the ceiling tinkle tinkle pling was all you could hear. Stacks of records, one by one I went through them but you had to be careful they could fall to pieces in your hands. Watch it Francie! I