Puckoon (17 page)

' Caw
!' said
a crow.

'Help!' said the Milligan, an organ
pipe jammed over his head.

A return volley from the Customs post
whistled overhead, a bullet hit Milligan's pipe, and vibrations of 300 decibels
in E flat didn't help his temper. Soon, volleys of'over the head fire' from
both sides were all the rage. Father Rudden ran up and down his line of Ulster
police, hitting each one as he became conscious.

Smoke bombs were being thrown.

' Look
out!'
yelled a voice.

Into their midst galloped a horse
desperately trying to keep up with the cage it was pulling; through the middle
it plunged, scattering them all, flattening the Customs shed, trampling tents.

The coffin in the shed burst into
flames. At 4.32 the world of Puckoon erupted in a crimson-throated roar, with
screams, smoke, yells, swears; debris flew everywhere, the clock in the church
suddenly struck endless ones, hundreds of bats flew from their belfry; one
hundred and fifty feet up, Ah Pong regained consciousness and blew his whistle.

Father Rudden was blown backwards out
of his boots.

MacGillikudie's moustache was singed
from his
face,
he hid his shame with a bucket over his
head. The great bell fell from the tower and landed directly over Mr Prells.
The nights are closing in he thought. The dust and debris settled. A great
silence settled over the land. Ten years have passed since that fateful day,
ten years have journeyed to their end and Puckoon once again was lost in its
unhurried ways. The Church was restored by a rich
Catholic,
Father Rudden found faith in a pair of new boots. The mute steeple clock once
again ticked out with a new life, the border posts were never rebuilt, to this
very day no one is quite sure exactly where the border lies, in fact each and
every character in the picture returned to his or her own ways, all except one
man, a Roman Soldier hanging from a tree with a rusty organ pipe lodged over
his head, from where came a muffled voice.' You can't leave me like this!'

'Oh, can't I?'