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Authors: Gerard Brennan

Wee Rockets (27 page)

BOOK: Wee Rockets
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"You're not really focussing on the bigger picture."

"What's that?"

"Your da can buy you shitloads of stuff when the money starts pouring in."

Joe didn't share Wee Danny's single-minded enthusiasm. Stealing someone's DVD player from their house was one thing. Taking their identity? Fucking hardcore. He almost felt sorry for McVeigh. Almost.

"Here they come, Joe." Danny nodded towards the pedestrian crossing at the bottom of the Springfield Road.

Liam and the twins had made it first. They waited at the lights for the traffic to stop. It seemed that Tommy's fate had sent a blunt reminder of their mortality. Any other day they'd have stepped off the kerb and expected the cars to stop. Joe shot them a quick wave. Matt Fegan returned it with a lightning-fast salute. Nobody yelled insults. Joe didn't like that. The hype and banter was missing. They hadn't even gotten within speaking distance and already the awkwardness glared.

Together, the five of them trudged down the gentle slope to the benches at the bottom of the park. They sat and rustled blue plastic bags. Bottles of cider hissed as the lids spun off and plastic cigarette lighters crackled alight.

"So, are the rest coming?" Wee Danny asked.

Liam nodded.

"And are they bringing the craic?"

"I fucking hope so. You'd think someone died."

A couple of sniggers sounded among them. Joe hoped they could fan those sparks of laughter into something warmer.

Matt wiped cider foam from the corners of his mouth. "Mickey, the two Franks and Kevin were already knocking about together when I called them. Said they'd come and meet us after they'd been to see Tommy. Have you two been already?"

"Aye," Joe said. "My ma phoned me as soon as she heard he was home. Me and Danny were part of the first bunch. We didn't stay long. Felt a bit in the way." Joe glanced at Wee Danny. The wee fellah barely nodded, but his eyes thanked Joe.

"I know what you mean, big lad," Eddie said. "That kind of shite's for grown ups."

"I thought he was a bit old for a white coffin," Matt said. "Are they not for wee tiny kids, like?"

Joe shrugged. "It's probably just a matter of taste these days. Nothing really means anything anymore."

Liam made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a whistle. "Nothing means anything. That's so fucking true, mate. Nothing means anything. Anything means nothing. That's just rolling about in my head now. Fuck."

Joe, Wee Danny and the twins shared a puzzled look. Liam studied his bottle of Buckfast tonic wine. Joe hated that syrupy, medicine-tasting shite. The thought of drinking something a bunch of crusty old monks had stepped in turned his stomach. Liam didn't seem to mind. He gulped a quarter of the bottle in one go.

"Jesus, Liam," Eddie said, "take it easy or you'll be on your hoop. That stuff sends you loopy."

"I'm already loopy. The whole nothing-means-anything world is loopy. We're not even strapped in. Just wandering around on this merry-go-round like we're not going to fall off it some day and go hurtling towards the sun. Or a black hole. Fuck. Imagine that. Looping the loop in a black hole."

Joe clicked on. "He's smoked a shitload of grass, hasn't he?"

Matt and Eddie nodded.

"When? Was he stoned at the wake?"

"Not that I know of," Eddie said. "We duked down an alley and shared a spliff not long after leaving Tommy's house. Liam hogged it though. He'll probably whitey."

"Ach, for fuck's sake," Wee Danny said. "We'll get fuck all craic out of him tonight."

"I think he's entitled to it," Matt said. "He saw Tommy die."

"Oh." Wee Danny pulled his fags from the pouch on the front of his hoodie. He tossed one towards Liam, landing it on his lap. "Sorry, Liam. I never thought..."

Liam moved in slow motion. He picked up the fag, held it at eye level and smiled. Then he tucked it behind his ear. His face went slack for a moment, then he slapped his own jaw. "You got a smoke, Danny?"

Wee Danny tilted his head back and looked down his nose. "Are you fucking with me?"

Liam blinked slowly and smiled. "Yeah." He turned to the twins. "I could smoke either one of you under the table. Whitey? Me? Fuck off."

The mood lifted after that and before long the other four Rockets arrived. They brought a new energy with them and kicked off the stories about Tommy. The more the gang laughed the quicker they drank and the bottles emptied fast.

"Let's get more," Joe said.

"We could do that," Liam said, "or we could have some of this shit." He waggled a small cellophane baggie of grass at Joe. "Let's have a few joints in honour of our fallen comrade."

Most of the boys cheered. Joe didn't.

"That doesn't seem right to me, mate."

Liam squinted at Joe. "Why not?"

"Tommy wasn't a toker, Liam. He didn't even smoke fags."

"Fuck off."

"No, that's right," Danny said. "It would have fucked with his asthma."

Liam threw an irritated glance at Wee Danny then turned his attention back on Joe. "I don't remember him not smoking."

Joe had been avoiding Liam's eyes all night. He'd thought it the best way to avoid an imagined accusation over Tommy's accident. Now Joe fastened on Liam's red-rimmed eyes and matched his cold stare. "He didn't make a big deal about it. I guess you never noticed."

"Never noticed? Me and Tommy Four-Eyes were best mates."

"Ach fuck off, would you? You used to torture the poor wee lad."

"It was only a bit of banter. He gave as good as he got."

"Whatever you say, Liam."

"Didn't he give up his own life to save me? If I was such a bully then why would he do that?"

"Is that why you phoned me crying your lamps out about how it was all your fault?"

Liam lifted his empty Buckfast bottle and threw it. Joe flopped to the side. The heavy glass bottle glanced off his upper arm. Wee Danny jumped up and went for Liam. The twins went to Liam's side, fists raised. Joe clambered to his feet and put a hand on Wee Danny's shoulder.

"It's all right, Danny. Leave it be."

"Fat fucking wanker. He needs another hiding. Teach him a bit of respect."

"Leave it, mate."

"That's right," Liam said. "You're not one of us anymore, you fucking dwarf. You neither, Joe. We've got on just fine without the pair of you. Better in fact."

"Just chill out, Liam. We're here to remember Tommy, not to fight."

"Really, Joe? Seems to me you forgot about us all pretty soon after you left the gang. One of us had to die before we got so much as a phone call."

The other four now stood behind Liam and the twins. Joe and Wee Danny were no longer one of them. They'd left the gang and lost their loyalty. Getting home in one piece became Joe's top priority. To do that he'd have to keep his simmering mate under control. He leant in to Wee Danny and asked him to be cool with a hurried whisper. Wee Danny nodded but maintained his aggressive stare.

"Okay, we've all had a bit to drink and a very fucked up day. I don't want this to get out of control. Me and Danny will just head on and leave you guys to it. Smoke your brains out. I shouldn't have said anything."

Liam, confident and cocky in his new position of command, smiled. "Aye, you should have kept your gob shut. We were happy to have a drink with you for old time's sake, but you had to fuck that up. Bounce. And take your wee boyfriend with you."

Joe wrapped his arms around Wee Danny and strained to hold him back. The wee pit bull was stronger than he looked.

"Come on, Danny, relax. We can't win this."

"Maybe not." Wee Danny spat the words through bared teeth. "But I can get a few digs into that fat cunt before I go down."

"Leave it, mate. We'll get our chance another day, okay?"

Wee Danny relaxed and Joe loosened his iron grip. "Fuck these wankers. We can drink at my place, Joe."

The long walk to the park gates was made longer by the jeers of the Rockets.

###

Danny felt his skin turn red every time he thought about Liam Greene. The fat fucker had turned on him and Joe faster than a starved dog. Humiliated them. It'd be a long time before he forgot about that. But if nothing else, his anger at Liam had taken his mind off Tommy Murray. Until his ma started yapping on about the funeral.

"You'll have to borrow a tie off our Paul, son."

"Sure I've got my school tie."

"Catch yourself on, wee lad. You're not showing me up at this funeral with your raggedy Corpus Christi tie. Get over to Paul's house now and find out if he has a spare one. And make sure it's black."

Danny was too familiar with that tetchy tone of voice and he wasn't stupid enough to protest any further. Muttering, he tugged his red Nike hoodie on and hit the street. Drizzly rain instantly coated his face. Typical Irish summer. Scorching sun for a couple of days then the clouds opened up for twice as long. It was a nuisance. Sheltered drinking haunts were far harder to come by. He lit a fag and cupped his hand around it to keep it dry.

Paul lived just two streets away but Danny slowed his pace, giving himself time to enjoy the entire fag. He flicked the butt before rapping on Paul's door. The bluish flicker of the TV danced on the living room blinds, drawn to cut out the glare on the screen. Nobody came to the door. Usually Wee Owen would be bouncing off it, half wetting himself to see who had come and what they'd brought for him. He tried the handle and the door swung open. The bass rumble of movie dialogue travelled into the hall.

"Paul?"

"I'm in here."

Danny realised he'd been holding his breath. He let out a lungful of air. In the living room, Paul sat in his pyjamas watching a black and white film on one of the free movie channels. Beer tins littered the floor around his feet. The room smelt of Chinese takeaway.

"You having a wee party in here or something?"

"Sort of." Paul glanced at the floor. "There might be a full tin amongst that lot if you want one."

"It's a bit early, Paul. Not even twelve. I only got out of bed half an hour ago."

"I thought you young ones were more hardcore than that."

"Have you not been to bed?"

"Nah, I had a wee doze here. I was getting caught up on some TV time now that I finally have the house to myself."

"Where's Sinead and the child?"

"Don't know, mate."

"What?"

"We had a fight on Thursday night. I stormed out. By the time I came back she'd packed a bag and gone."

"Fuck. Have you not tried calling her or anything?"

"Are you kidding me? I've been waiting for a break like this for ages. I'm not wasting the opportunity. I phoned in sick yesterday and I'm just going to take a wee holiday by myself until she decides to come home."

Danny couldn't believe Paul's attitude. The guy looked like he hadn't a care in the world. It was nice to see him that way. "Fair fucks to you, mate."

"Cheers. I have to admit though..."

"What?"

"I'm quite impressed with Sinead. I always thought she'd be too lazy to leave me."

Danny got a tie off Paul and promised not to tell their ma about Sinead. Before talking to his brother, he'd been wound up tighter than a spring. Joe talking him into giving up the gang, Tommy dying, Liam doing everything he could to push his buttons. Everything had turned upside-down. But Paul had found a bright side to his wife and child leaving him. He could do the same.

At home, he held the tie over his head like an Indian warrior presenting a scalp to his chief. His ma nodded approval and went back to ruining lunch. He threw the tie over the banister for safekeeping and bounded up the stairs. His ma shouted after him, complaining about elephant herds and heavy feet, but Danny's buzzing mind had no room for hangover consideration. He'd gotten beyond anger and frustration and had found his silver lining. Now he needed to phone Joe.

"Yeah?"

BOOK: Wee Rockets
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