Read Fire Down Below Online

Authors: Andrea Simonne

Fire Down Below (33 page)

 

***

 

We head over O’Connell Bridge as
Declan points out some of the different stores to me. The streets are packed
with cars and people, everyone carrying shopping bags. There are Christmas
displays and more lighted banners with the words ‘Nollaig Shona Duit.’ It’s
clear Dubliners are a festive bunch.

“Does it ever snow for Christmas?”
I ask.

“No, not often. It’s mostly the
rain.”

Soon we leave the shopping area
and head into what appears to be a more working class area. There are still
shops, but it’s mostly mom and pop type places and pubs, a lot of pubs. There’s
one on every corner.

Declan lets out a breath when we
take a left turn. “Jayzus...,” he mutters. “Will you look at that?  I haven’t
been in this neighborhood in a while. It’s really changed.”

We head down a residential street.
Declan points out houses to me, talking about some of the people he used to
know.

“My good friend Danny used to live
there, and over there is where the first girl I ever kissed lived.” He points
to a small brick house with a wreath on the front door. “We were both ten years
old. Her name was Jenny Green and I had a huge crush on her.  She told me I
could be her boyfriend and then a week later she dumped me for someone else.”

“She dumped you! How could she be
so cruel?”

He chuckles. “In truth I was
relieved. She had three older brothers who threatened to stomp on anyone who so
much as looked at their sister. I spent that whole week living in terror. She
was cute though. I remember that.”

“What did she look like?”

“Dark hair with fair skin—she had
a bossy attitude as well.”

“She sounds breathtaking. It’s
clear to me that you have excellent taste in women.”

He gives me a sideways grin.

When we drive up to a small white
house with a tiny patch of faded grass in front, he stops the car.

“There it is. That’s where I lived
until I was twelve.”

We’re both quiet. The house isn’t
terrible. It’s two stories and appears to have been well maintained over the
years. There are some Christmas lights strung around the door which could use a
coat of paint, though everything else seems okay. It’s a far cry from the posh
house we’re staying at now. It’s barely even in the same universe.

“My mother’s family is well off. They
strongly disapproved of her marrying my father and felt she was marrying
down
.”
He makes quotation marks with his fingers.  “A couple of years after my father
died she got re-married to Martin and that’s when we moved to the Southside. It
was a tremendous change. ”

I wanted to ask more about his
father, but I remember him telling me that he didn’t like to talk about him.

“Were your parents happy?”

He nods. “From what I remember
they seemed happy. They argued occasionally, but I don’t remember them having
any real problems.” He motions around. “I know it doesn’t look like much and it
was kind of a rough neighborhood, but I had a lot good times here.”

Declan puts the car in gear and as
we continue down the street, he points out a small park to me. “That’s where
all the kids gathered when school was out. We’d play dodge ball and red rover. Do
kids in the states play those games?”

“Dodge ball, but I’ve never heard
of red rover.”

“It’s a game where you choose
teams and each side tries to get more members by calling kids from the opposite
team to break a chain you make with your hands. It’s fun, but brutal, at least the
way we played it with kids ramming each other. We were usually covered in
bruises the next day.”

“Yikes.”

“Not for the faint hearted,” he
chuckles in agreement.

When we drive up to a large brick
building, he tells me this is where he went to primary school. “Joy of Christ, Catholic
Boy’s School.”

I peer at the imposing building
again. It’s very institutional. “It looks like a prison.”

“Twelve years of Catholic school
and all it did was turn me away from the church.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t great.”

“I’ll bet you missed not having
girls in class with you.”

He shrugs. “I suppose. It’s not
like any of us knew any different. The girl’s school is right down the street and
so we saw each other after classes.”

 “Do you still know anybody from
your old neighborhood?”

“Eh...a few people. When we moved
I sort of became a man without a country. There’s a rivalry between Northsiders
and Southsiders. Northsiders think Southsiders are stuck up snobs and
Southsiders think Northsiders are nothing but a bunch of skangers. If you’re
from the South, calling someone a Northsider is considered an insult. As a
result I got into a lot of fights when we moved to the South.”

“That must have been hard. It’s not
easy to move when you’re that age.”

“Losing my da was harder.” His
eyes are steady on the road. “Unfortunately moving to a new school gave me the
perfect excuse to throw my fists around and I fell in with a bad crowd.”

Next he takes me to his high school,
though they call it secondary school here. It’s on the Southside and is in a
much nicer neighborhood than the one we’ve just come from. As he points out
more landmarks—friend’s homes, a couple different pubs he used to go to
regularly—I notice Declan is growing quiet. It feels like he’s holding something
back. Finally he pulls the car over near a grassy park and asks me what I’d
like to do with the remainder of the day.

“The tour is finished?”

“Yeah, it’s finished.”

“What about the rest? I know there’s
more.”

Declan frowns. “You don’t want to
see the rest. Trust me.”

“I do. I want to see it all.”

“No, you don’t.”

I can hear the edge in his voice,
but I press on anyway. “So that’s it then? I thought we were always honest with
each other. Why did you invite me to Ireland?”

“You don’t think I’m honest with
you?” He turns away from me. “Should I show you all the houses I used to rob, all
the alleyways I had fights in? Is that the kind of tour you’re talking about? I’m
more honest with you than anyone, but that’s a past I don’t plan to revisit.
Ever.”

 I’m stunned into silence. Embarrassed
too, for being so thoughtless about what I said. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Declan shakes his head. “No, I’m
sorry. Don’t push me on this though. I couldn’t bare that—especially not from
you, Kate.” He starts the car up again. “And if you’re really wondering why I
invited you here, let me tell you, so there’s no confusion.” He turns to me,
his blue eyes flashing. “I invited you because I want you. I want you more than
anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” He gives me a wry smile. “So now you
know.”

Chapter
Twenty-Four

 

When Christmas day
arrives
it’s unlike any Christmas I’ve ever known. Being an only child with few
relatives living nearby, our holidays were typically on the quiet side. Sometimes
my parents had friends over and things would get more boisterous, but it was
usually a mellow affair. Christmas at Declan’s house is
crazy
. And I
mean that in the best possible way. There are so many relatives, so many aunts
and uncles, cousins of every kind, it’s difficult to keep it all straight. To
make matters worse, they all look alike. They look
very
Irish to me—lots
of pale freckled faces. Everybody is super friendly, but I feel overwhelmed.
I’m glad I brought some nice clothes too, because everyone’s dressed up and I
would have felt like the poor girl from the wrong side of the pond.

“You seem a little out of your
depth.” Declan’s sister Siobhan comes up to me as I’m standing by the window,
trying to appear inconspicuous. Declan was by my side for a while, but I finally
told him to go on and mingle, that he didn’t have to babysit me. “Don’t worry,”
she says. “Nobody expects you to remember all their names.”

“Thank goodness,” I smile with
relief.

“Well...just the immediate family,
of course, and then my ma’s family, though you wouldn’t want to insult my da’s family
either. All in all it’s only about thirty people.”

I stare at her.

Siobhan bursts out laughing. “I’m only
teasing. Come on, we’re not that frightful are we?”

“No, of course not.” I smile at
her. “It’s just that I’ve never been good in large groups.”

“Is that right?” She leans in closer
and then nods. “Yes, I see what the trouble is here. We need to get some
alcohol into you. It’s the only way anybody gets through these bloody family
parties and, believe me, I speak from experience.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Not that
bad? Trust me, you don’t want to be sober around this bunch. I don’t have a
choice because I’m pregnant, but there’s no reason for you to suffer in silence.
Let’s get you started with a whiskey, shall we?” She smiles at me again and I can
see she’s being kind, that she understands how out of place I feel.

I’d taken an instant liking to
Siobhan when she arrived this morning all droll and in command with her husband
and two kids in tow. She’s seven months pregnant and watching her swing that
bump around, while ordering everyone to do her bidding, has been a real
education. I’ve never seen a pregnant woman work it like Siobhan does. I plan
to tell Suzy all about it.

“Now where is that brother of
mine?” Her eyes narrow as she scans the room. “Probably playing with the kids. He’s
like a kid himself, that one.”

We see Declan running through the
room with his nephew tucked under his arm like a football. The kid is screaming
with laughter as Declan tells him that if he wants to be Superman he’s going to
have to learn how to fly. I’d never seen Declan around children before and I
have to say Siobhan is right. He’s like a big kid. It’s obvious his niece and
nephew are crazy about him. Ever since they got here they’ve been climbing all
over him.

“Declan!” she yells. He flies his
nephew our way.

“Yeah?”

“Your woman needs some whiskey immediately.”

Declan gives me a confused grin. “Em,
okay.” He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say something more, but when he sees
the stern expression on Siobhan’s face he shuts it quickly. “I’ll be right
back.”

Smart man, I think. Don’t argue.

She gives me a serene smile. “There.
Now that’s taken care of let’s go sit on the couch before my legs start to
swell up like an elephant’s.”

 

***

 

Somewhere amid all the chaos, people
make their way over to sit down at the large dining room table. I’ve still got
my glass of Irish whiskey, and remembering what happened the last time I drank this
stuff, I’m sipping it slowly. I don’t want to get drunk and embarrass myself,
though I’m not sure anybody would even notice. From what I can tell most of the
adults are fairly hammered. There’s a separate kids table and Declan is trying
to pull himself away, while the kids are trying to get him to stay. When he finally
manages it, he comes over and sits next to me.

“So when are you going to have children
of your own Declan?” asks an elder gentleman. I think it’s an uncle named Ian,
though he looks like Herman Munster and that’s what I’ve come to think of him
as. “You’re not going to live forever, you know.”

Declan grins. “Last time I checked
men weren’t able to get pregnant. Has there been some new medical
breakthrough?”

“Smart arse. You need a wife! What
are you waiting for?” He turns to Declan’s mother. “How old is he now?”

Marion shakes her head.
“Thirty-seven and don’t even get me started. How I wound up with a thirty seven
year old bachelor for a son, I’ll never know.”

“What
are
you waiting for?”
Uncle Munster asks.

Declan shrugs. “The right woman, I
suppose.”

“The right woman? Damn lad, does
the earth have to move? I’ll bet you’ve met the right woman more than a few
times by now.”

I bring my glass to my lips,
smiling at the way Declan is getting razzed. I never knew guys were given a
hard time by their families for not getting married.

“What about this pretty girl
sitting right next to you? She looks like the right woman to me.”

My arm freezes with the glass at
my lips. When I glance at Declan, he’s shaking his head. “You guys give me a
hard time about this every Christmas. Aren’t you tired of the subject yet?
Trust me, when I decide to marry, you’ll be the first to know.”

“As long as you do it here. Don’t
make us travel all the way to America,” says one of his cousins. There are
murmurs of agreement around the table.

A watery-eyed woman sitting next
to me grabs my arm. “You’ll be sure to marry him here—won’t you? He’s my
favorite nephew and I’m too old to get on an airplane.”

I feel mortified. How do I explain
to her that I’m not engaged to Declan?

Declan winks at me and then leans
over. “Don’t worry Auntie, when Kate and I marry it will be here in Dublin.”

The subject is dropped as we hear a
chiming sound at the head of the table. Martin has raised his wine glass and is
tapping it with a fork, so it sounds like a soft bell. When the room quiets he
begins to speak, thanking everyone for coming and acknowledging what a blessing
it is to have family. I’m trying to listen, but I keep thinking about what
Declan just said. I know it was a joke, but still.

“And we’d also like to welcome
Kate this year.”

I look up when I hear my name and discover
everyone smiling at me. “We’re happy Declan invited her to join our celebration
and we hope we’ll see more of her in the future. Happy Christmas everyone!”

There are greetings of Happy
Christmas all around the table. Declan takes my hand and brings it to his lips,
sending a tingle through me. His eyes hold mine with deliberate heat. It’s been
like this for days—ever since we made out at the
Book of Kells
. I
thought maybe he’d sneak into my room at night, but he hasn’t. Instead he keeps
touching me in all these subtle ways. It’s driving me crazy.

“Happy Christmas, Kate,” he murmurs.

After Marion starts passing around
all the food, I suddenly remember that bit of Irish Declan told me when we were
standing in front of that bakery on Grafton Street.

“Tá grá agam duit,” I say to her as
she passes me a dish.

She tilts her head. “Sorry?”

I repeat the phrase and notice how
the table has grown quiet around us. I feel like a complete idiot. I thought it
would be a nice gesture to use Irish, but it occurs to me that I probably sound
ridiculous.

“I’m trying to speak Irish,” I admit
with a sheepish smile. “I must be mangling it like crazy.”

“Nooo,” Marion says, “what is it
you think you’re saying?”

“I’m trying to say ‘This food
looks delicious.’ Declan taught it to me.” I turn to Declan, and to my surprise,
he has a mortified expression on his face.

“Oh, I see.” Marion glances at him
and then smiles as if she’s holding back laughter. “So Declan taught you that
it means—this food looks delicious?” She mouths each word distinctly.

Other people around us are chuckling
and I feel confused. Clearly I’m missing something.

“Is it some sort of joke?” I ask.

“It’s not a joke. Perhaps you
should have Declan explain it to you,” Siobhan says. She’s grinning, but there’s
something serious in her eyes too.

I turn and find that Declan has a
red flush along his jaw. I’ve never seen him like this. “What does it mean?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he mutters.

“Aye, come on Declan,” says one of
his cousins, “we all want to hear you tell this lovely girl what it means.”
There’s more laughter as people are teasing him, trying to convince him to
explain it.

“I don’t understand.” I look at
Marion, but she just shakes her head.

“Declan will have to explain this
to you on his own.”

 I try to imagine what it could
be. Something sexual, maybe? It has to be along those lines judging by the comments
people are making.

“I guess we should leave the poor
lad be now,” Uncle Munster finally says to everyone and then he turns to Declan
and says something in a quiet voice. I can’t be sure, but I think it sounds
like, “I’m glad for you.”

As things wind down and everyone
fills their plates, enjoying their dinner, Siobhan asks me what sorts of things
Declan and I have been doing since I arrived.

 I tell her about the
Book of
Kells
and that we also went to the National Gallery. “There’s so much to see,”
I say. “Dublin is really great. You guys are lucky to have grown up in such a
vibrant city.”

People grin and there are a few
chuckles.

“It’s just that Dublin was about
the most boring place on earth when we were growing up,” Declan tells me. “There
was nothing to do back then. The city has changed a lot. I envy all the young
people now.”

“Me too,” Siobhan says. “Though
sometimes I think it’s grown too fast. I’m not sure I like all this talk of
skyscrapers being built downtown.”

“But it’s good for the economy,”
her husband Brian points out. “We have to keep up with the rest of Europe.
Dublin is a major city now.”

“Well, I’ve seen the drawings and I
think they’re craptastic.”  

Everyone discusses what direction Dublin’s
growth should take. They all sound knowledgeable about their city’s economy in
a way that wealthy people often are. Being that my father was a city planner
and that Seattle has also grown quite rapidly over the last couple of decades,
the conversation seems familiar. As the discussion continues I find myself
watching and listening to Declan. The Irish in his voice has gotten stronger
since we’ve been here. And even though he doesn’t live here anymore, it’s clear
his opinions are well respected by everyone. He’s articulate when he makes a
point and people listen without cutting him off, something I’ve noticed Dubliners
are prone to do if you’re not holding their attention.

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