Bend for Home, The Page 22

What are you doing, sir? Socrates asked, with marvelling big-bushed eyes.

  I was listening to your radio, Father, I said.

  It is a miracle to me, Mr Healy, that you, who can’t speak Greek, though we labour to teach you, he said, can understand German which is not on our itinerary.

  I could see past his huge rounded figure, with the collar undone, into the scholarly room. The walls were book-lined. Books were stacked on the floor. A little bed sat in a corner like a book itself.

  Well sir, explain yourself.

  I was passing, I said, and I heard the radio and I was trying to figure out what language it was, Father.

  What curiosity, sir. What innate curiosity.

  I’m sorry, Father.

  If only such curiosity could abound in your normal studies.

  Yes, Father.

  He folded his hands on his stomach.

  Knowledge, sir, is not learnt through a keyhole.

  No, Father.

  But we must be grateful, mustn’t we, for even this meagre effort. Come, sir, be off from my door.

  Yes, Father.

  The Vicar of Wakefield, Socrates said. He stood looking after me with a pleased grin on his face then the door closed and the German voices dropped to a low hum.

  4 Fri. St Francis of Assisi. First Friday.

  Square comes in. I have Curry against wall. We’re play-acting.

  Lie up there till I see if you’re any good, I’m saying.

  I can see Curry looking over my shoulder.

  C’mon, I say, till we see if you’re all talk.

  Curry bares his teeth.

  What’s wrong with you? I say. Come here to me till I give you a dose of the clatters.

  Curry stares straight past me.

  Put them up, I said.

  As I turn Square gave me a quick sharp knock with his knuckles on the side of the head. Bed! he said. Later, when the lights went off, Curry said in the dark, Well I tried to tell you. I know, I said. That was a good knock he gave you. ’Twas, I agreed. He’s nifty is Square. He is. You want to see the look on your face, said Curry, that was great. I enjoyed that, he added. Fuck off, I say. Oh that was great, chuckled Curry.

  5 Sat.

  At 8 o’clock this evening we go on retreat.

  There is a long spiff in the chapel from a monk.

  Then silence. Afterwards, we head off round the Whole and the Half by ourselves, a few single fellows cross the football pitch, some stand alone among the pillars in the ambulatory, others pass in the corridors with averted eyes. Priests suddenly emerge from the woods. Speaking in sign language we climb into bed and hear the squeak of Square’s soft shoes as he comes along the corridor and stands a moment by the door of No. 10, then goes on, across through the college to the connors’ dorm.

  6 Sun. 18th after Pentecost.

  In the morning we wash and shave without a word. The monks sing the Mass, answering each other over great distances. In the refectory, the sucks eye the seniors fearfully. In silence we eat dry toast for breakfast while a brown-eyed monk swinging a huge wooden rosary parades by.

  When a skivvy shouts in the kitchen he wheels round angrily on his sandals and whisks through the door.

  Throughout the day we step into the chapel and sit apart from each other, staring at the altar and praying. When the door closes or opens we all look round. It’s only someone else. Some other soul like ourselves. The presence grows. I do 15 minutes at a time, then move on to half-an-hour. And once one whole hour. It left me light in the head. We walked the corridors, making certain journeys that brought you back to where you started from, then you started again.

  Then there was a very hairy spiff at 8 o’clock. All about sex. I think I have vocation. That night in No. 10 we move about greatly troubled in ourselves, me more than most. And Square didn’t even bother to look in.

  7 Mon. Feast of the Holy Rosary.

  A cheer went up, as if we had won the McRory Cup, just after breakfast.

  19 Sat.

  Got 60% off Cullen for my comp.

  24 Thur. St Raphael, Archangel.

  Hurley came up to me in the study and said I was wanted at the front door. Una is there in a car. She says, Aunty Gerty, Mammy’s sister, is dead.

  25 Fri.

  Bob came into Benny’s class and drove me into town. I sat into the funeral car in my new suit. We drive to Finea. The hearse stops a moment outside our old house. Tom Keogh and Mrs Flynn are at the door of the church. Charlie Clavin puts his hand in mine and says, Can that be you Dermot?

  It is, I said.

  Bedad. Dermot Healy?

  That’s right.

  He shakes his head.

  I was told it but I didn’t believe it. He gripped my hand firmly. I’m sorry, he says, for your trouble.

  I follow the funeral from the church. Mammy, Aunty Maisie, Aunty Bridgie and Aunty Nancy wearing black veils walk behind their sister. Behind them come the sons and daughters. Every few yards the tall O’Neill brothers halt. Uncle Seamus takes a wing.

  Let the young fellow in, says Tony.

  On the bog road Vincent steps aside to let me carry the coffin of his mother. Pop O’Neill, her husband, with rheumy eyes and small feet, perches like a tiny bird by the grave. The grave diggers stand by with their shovels tucked under their chins.

  26 Sat.

  Slept in my own bed, listened to Luxembourg and up to the alley first thing in the morning. Great feed of chicken in the house and Sean O’Neill gave me 10 shillings. I had a good argument with him. Smoke 30 fags, and although I could have stayed in Cavan town another night, I decided, in the middle of the funeral party, to take Flood’s taxi back in the dark to the college after lights out. Went in through the front door that someone had left open, past the priests’ rooms without meeting anyone, up the stairs the same, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this I wandered with my bag along the strange celibate world of a corridor that I’d never been through alone at night before: warm lights under doors, coughs, a floorboard giving way, friendly radios on low, the rattle of a coal shuttle, the clink of a glass, a door to a priest’s lavatory standing ajar and looking somehow sinful, classical music, dark shoes on a doorstep, a rifle resting against a wall beside a wet pair of wellingtons, intimacies, a loud laugh that for the moment I couldn’t recognize, the smell of pipe smoke.

  I undressed in number 10 by the light from the corridor, got in and lay there, trying to remember Aunty Gerty’s face but all that came back was a fur stole, a trap flying the road from Gorey in Co. Wexford and the sense of a big woman in a wide hat. I try to concentrate on her face. She’s wearing lipstick I think. She’s laughing at the good of Pop. Then suddenly I lose her face and instead it is the face of my father I see. I try to arrange the features as they once were, but they keep slipping away from each other, but I know it’s him from the gaze.

  Are you back? whispered Square, suddenly in the darkness, and his torch swept over my face.

  Yes, Father.

  How did you get in?

  The door was open.

  And why did you not report to me?

  It was too late.

  You should have reported to me.

  I was too tired.

  All right.

  He pulled the door quietly to. For the first time in years I travel up towards Finea before sleeping, past the barracks, on by Fitzsimon’s, take the bend over the seven-arched bridge, up the village and past Myles the Slasher’s Memorial, there’s a light in our window, I’m nearly there.

  27 Sun. Feast of Christ the King.

  Have made some good friends.

  28 Mon. SS Simon and Jude, Apostles.

  One of the young lads I train for middle-distance running today told me he had the cure for pimples. He got it from his father in Drumshambo. He took me into one of the showers and told me to close my eyes.

  You may hear me saying a prayer, he said, but pass no remarks. Just trust me.

  I trust you, I said.

  So I closed my eye
s and his fingers touched my face like the scuff of the wing of a bird. Then it was over. You can open your eyes, now, he said. We stepped out of the shower and Hughie McGovern said, Are yous bum boys or what? I timed the young fellow twice round the Half. He clocked in 30 seconds better than the last time.

  29 Tues.

  When I woke this morning the dry scabs of the pimples had fallen off my face and were all around me on the pillow.

  31 Thur. St Alphonsus Rodriguez.

  Tried to get out to town for tonight. Told by Bob that he could make no exceptions. From the window we watched stray fireworks shooting over Cavan town then in the dark we passed round bags of nuts.

  NOVEMBER

  1 Fri. Feast of All Saints. First Friday.

  Got home after High Mass, broke a false tooth with chocolate and went to the Central. The women and Sheila are there. Had dinner. Had a beer and vodka in Stick Donoghue’s with Dermot. In Central with Sheila alone at last.

  I miss you, I said.

  How long are we supposed to stay away from each other?

  I don’t know.

  It’s hard.

  I know.

  Is this what other people do?

  I think so.

  You’re strange, she said.

  Yes, I said, I’m a funny wee cunt.

  We played records. I wanted to ask her up to the Castle but didn’t. Back to college at 7. The connors are running round the Half in masks. Someone let off a banger behind the alley. All night tossed and turned thinking of Sheila.

  2 Sat. All Souls’ Day.

  Went up to Bob straight after breakfast. We had an argument but eventually got into town to have the tooth replaced. Went to Mr Hickey the dentist, had fitting and asked him to time the visit for the late afternoon then lifted the phone and asked Sheila to the matinee.

  Are you sure that’s what you want?

  It is, I said.

  First we sat by each other in the dark without touching then her hand found my hand, and we sat like that for a time through the Pathé News, but when the main picture began we were kissing. It was one of the greatest courts ever. Drank a bottle of wine in Finnegan’s afterwards. Then onto the Central for chips. Always remember Little Peggy March’s song and Billy Fury’s Halfway to Paradise. So near yet so far away. Sheila told her parents she was going back to Loreto with the Saundersons and I told the mother I was going out to college with Burke then we hired Jack Flood and drove first to Loreto, and at Loreto I didn’t want to let her go, so we went on towards Butlersbridge then back again, then once more out to Farnham past the golf links, and finally back up Loreto Avenue and we said goodbye in a hail of leaves, and then Jack dropped me at St Pat’s.

  Jack turned around in the car seat.

  I wish you the best of luck, he said.

  It cost me what was to keep me till the end of November but it was worth it. Nuts were served with tea, had 2 pictures that night – Olympic Games and then The Globetrotters, and Square left the light on till late in No. 10 so we could talk and talk.

  9 Sat. Dedication of the Basilica of the Saviour.

  My birthday. The boys gave me gallery at teatime. Great cheer. Took my birthday cake to the table and gave a piece to every fellow. Great feed. Lit up another cake in the dorm. 16 candles lit. Heard Square coming. Blew out the candles and shoved the cake under the bed.

  He came in and walked up the dorm and back again.

  He sniffed the air and shone his torch round the room. I began to imagine that smoke was pouring out from under the quilt. Then down the dorm he came again and stopped at the foot of my bed. He shone the torch directly onto my pillow, then suddenly clicked it off and went away.

  10 Sun. 23rd after Pentecost.

  I was inside playing table tennis when O’Connor said there were friends of mine outside. Andy and Timmy were there. They came out to give me 20 Kingsway for my birthday. The 5th years gather round and begin shouting. The boys pass no remarks. We stay there talking. Then a window opened overhead and they began throwing water down on us. We didn’t budge. The whole college talks about it afterwards.

  16 Sat.

  Got into town to get my tooth. Take feed in Central, and off to the matinee. Try Adams. No go. Square gives off stink and phones Hickey the dentist ’cause I’m an hour late. Listened with O’Connor to radio till half-12. Then began wondering about the chance of slipping out of the college and back to town.

  I decided to give it a trial run.

  I got dressed and put my pyjamas on over everything, then stepped out onto the corridor in my sandals. I walked to the toilet and stood there listening. No one. So I headed for the stairs intending to take the same route by the priests’ rooms that I’d come the night of Aunty Gerty’s funeral. I was down the first flight when I heard these steps coming up so I ran back, along the corridor and into number 10. Just as I jumped into bed the door opened behind me. It was Square and he was breathless. He shone his torch onto every face. I found it light up my eyes. He stood over me. The sweat ran down my back. Then at last came the darkness.

  I didn’t move because I had not heard the door close, so I lay perfectly still, breathing as regular as I could, over and back, trying to concentrate on making sleep come, but the heat of my clothes under the pyjamas grew stifling, and still he was out there, I could find him standing there in the dark waiting for me to make one false move, and sure enough about 10 minutes later he turned on the torch and the beam struck my eyelids, he was still directly over me.

  I knew he was on the point of asking me to step out of bed when suddenly O’Connor began to rave in his sleep. Square turned. The boys began wakening. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

  What’s wrong, Father? I asked.

  Go back to sleep, he said.

  He woke O’Connor and left the dorm. I bundled my clothes off under the sheets, and left them beneath the bed. In a dream much later that night I woke and could have sworn I saw the silhouette of Square still standing out there somewhere in the dark, but I could not be sure.

  17 Sun. 24th after Pentecost.

  Wear my blue and white jumper. All admiration.

  22 Fri.

  I was walking round the Half with Pete Duffy, and Gallagher, and Mullaly when someone with a radio to their ear shouted out that President Kennedy was dead.

  DECEMBER

  13 Fri.

  The sucks from first year ran errands for the seniors to the shop, the Belturbet dayboys talked soccer outside the locker room, Arva lads talked cars, the Drumshambos played touch-penny, while next to them cards were slapped down onto window sills in the top corridor in six-penny games of poker by seniors from Balieborough; the Cavan towns sang Living Doll, and on the Whole the Killeshandras were making plans, a brace of East Cavan men sat in the woods without speaking, in an empty classroom a pair of brothers from Manorhamilton cut a ham sandwich in two; a lone lad from Ballinagh sat in the toilet reading a 64-page comic, the Mullahorans stood behind the alley against the back wall like men standing out of the wind by the gable of a house; a Glan man jumped in the air and hung off the crossbar of the goalpost on the lower pitch; fellows from Killinkere taunted fellows from Drung; the Cootehills rattled off a litany of footballers and argued who was in the goal that day of the final in ’61; in the ambulatory the Shercocks played pitch-and-toss; this dapper lad from Ballyconnell stopped by a window to study his reflection then took out a comb and gave a sharp, quick stroke to his quiff; in the study hall a couple of seniors from Mullagh sat five or six desks away from each other humming Down by the Riverside; in the piano room a Carrickgallen fellow slept; an old argument erupted on the upper pitch between two tall neighbours from Glenfarne so they folded their coats and dug into each other; Lavey! Lavey Strand! Behy! Behy Bog! and Currahoe, shouted a connor from Bunoe; in the showers three men from Varginee shouted profanities; a man from Swad spat blood into a basin in the surgery; the loner from Moynalty dribbled a ball along the basketball court; a holy man from Latt walked the Half quickly an
d stopped and took out a matchbox that had a butterfly in it and went on again; a gambler from Ballyjamesduff heard yesterday’s racing results from a dayboy and stamped the floor; You’re looking ojus well, said a connor from Drum to a senior from Latt who replied I’ll clatter you round the oxter; a Dowra man stole into the kitchen while a Bawnboy man kept watch; a scholarship boy tore the wing off a chicken his mother from Kilnaleck had sent him; the lad from Gowna sat in the locker room sewing a vest; then when the dayboys went to the bicycle shed they found that someone had let all the tyres down.

  19 Thur.

  Had great fun. Myself, Mullally and Duffy walk round the Whole backwards, roaring our heads off.

  20 Fri. Ember day. (Fast and abstinence)

  Got holidays today. Up at 6, and reach town at a ¼ to 9. The girls let me in. Made the fire in the private dining room and had tea ready for the mother when she came down. We talked till the shop opened and I took a stroll up the town, had a bath and went with Dermot back out to the college to collect my cases. Went to pics.

  21 Sat. St Thomas Apostle. Ember day. (Fast without abstinence)

  Kiss Sally after breakfast, then her father fell in drunk. Went with Mary after dinner in the car to the golf links. Meet Paddy Kelly in the Ulster Arms. Then walked Phyllis out the road.

  22 Sun. 4th Sunday of Advent.