At Swim, Two Boys Part 58

"But they can't do that, mister. I'll be bate now."

"No you won't now."

"I'll be bate, mister, and I don't have nothing brung home."

"Is it your da you mean?" The boy nodded. "Sure he'll know it's not your fault." Mr. Mack put away his handkerchief. Where he had dabbed was the only clean in the wee sc.r.a.p's face. He stood wobble kneed and his toes turned in. His squinting eyes, misbelieving, peered up at Mr. Mack. Terrible slight he looked. "Don't you see now," Mr. Mack told him, not unkindly, "where your talk of Fenians and fighting and nation-once-again has got you?"

"n.o.body never said about the even papers, mister."

"Here now," said Mr. Mack. Here we go again, he thought. "Sixpence, that's all I have. Off you go. It'll all be over tomorrow, never fear, and you'll be back with your Herald Herald and and Mail. Mail."

And now who was this only Mary Nights. Mary Nights not to her hour and her direction into Dublin, a thing never known in weal nor woe, come wind nor weather, in hail rain nor shine. Her determined old head bent to her course. "They's drawing out," said she, "the nights."

The bell clinked. Lord save us, he was home at last. Nancy was at the kitchen door. She had a bowl in her elbow, mixing something. "Why, Mr. Mack, you haven't your hat."

Mr. Mack wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "Never mind that. Is Jim about?"

"Sure he was moping about the shop till I told him go out and play."

"When was this?"

"I don't know now. He was back again then and he called out to me. He's to eat his dinner at MacMurrough's."

"Mr. MacMurrough's? Was Doyler with him?"

"Doyler's in his bed still, poorly. You look took yourself, Mr. Mack. Is there anything the matter?"

"Oh sure Nancy, the most terrible thing has happened, you wouldn't believe."

"Don't I know, Mr. Mack. And where would you find another hat the size of you?"

Before Mr. Mack had left for town that morning, he had told Jim-not to keep shop, exactly: it was a holiday and the shop was firmly shut for the holiday-but to keep by, with an ear for the bell, in case of a customer would be caught sudden and they'd need a goods in an emergency. For a corner-grocery, he said, his hand braced in the air against any contraposition, was as much a service to the community as a shop in the strict sense. Jim had mentioned Doyler above at MacMurrough's. Tush, his father had replied. Hadn't Jim only now told him that Doyler was right as rain? Was he saying now there was any imminent danger of a relax? Was Doyler about to be drownded in his bed, was he? Fine bobbish fellow likes of Doyler, he didn't want Jim to be mollycoddling. Let Jim read a book at home, hadn't he examinations this summer? His father might wish he had leisure for reading a book, so he might.

His father was gone then, and Jim settled with his tome, From Crecy to Tel el-Kebir, From Crecy to Tel el-Kebir, the very article for a blue sky in the morning. Mollycoddle, he thought-milksop too: he had fed Doyler bread dipped in milk when he woke. There were other names he could think of: miss boy, molly mop, molly maguire-though the Molly Maguires were agrarian banditti who had dressed, he did not know why, in women's clothing. By noon, the brightness outside had deepened nearly to night the apparent evening within. Drake had circ.u.mnavigated the globe and Spain approached her acme; while Nancy up in Aunt Sawney's room was calling for him to fetch water. He made his noisy tread on the stairs and waited in the door. the very article for a blue sky in the morning. Mollycoddle, he thought-milksop too: he had fed Doyler bread dipped in milk when he woke. There were other names he could think of: miss boy, molly mop, molly maguire-though the Molly Maguires were agrarian banditti who had dressed, he did not know why, in women's clothing. By noon, the brightness outside had deepened nearly to night the apparent evening within. Drake had circ.u.mnavigated the globe and Spain approached her acme; while Nancy up in Aunt Sawney's room was calling for him to fetch water. He made his noisy tread on the stairs and waited in the door.

"You can come in," she said.

"Will I leave it here?"

Nancy tipped a look at Aunt Sawney, who was sitting up in bed with her bed-jacket on and her day-cap, and the big bolster behind. "He hangs about the door for fear he'll catch something prejudicial."

"I do not," said Jim, walking boldly in. Immediately he was aware of the smell, a woman's room smell, of toilet soap and bodily things, cleansing and motions. Of sickness too, or rather the things against sickness, ointments and creams. He nearly could touch the warmth, a stuff of lavender and camphor b.a.l.l.s, stale the way they had it h.o.a.rded through the winter. It was a strangely self-contained room: he never saw anything purchased for it, yet it had a share of jars and bottles that must surely run out.

"And what is the little man at today?" asked Aunt Sawney.

"Reading a book," he answered.

Nancy rolled up the soiled napkin and dropped it in the pan of water. Things changed when they left this room. He would pick that up now and carry it down the stairs to the range. It would be hideous then, but here you wouldn't mind it at all. He watched Nancy blow on a penny before she placed it on the baby's bellyb.u.t.ton. She did up the napkin guggling in the baby's face, and asking it, singingly, "How many miles to Dubellin town? Three score and ten."

"Why wouldn't the little man go out?" Aunt Sawney said.

"Old Macks has him minding shop," Nancy told her. "Would you credit it? Minding shop and the shop closed itself."

Aunt Sawney smacked her gums. She looked nice in her bed with her bed-jacket on. Nancy had knitted her that. "Are you well, Aunt Sawney?" he asked.

"Come here, little man," she said. A shilling she had for him. "Is it the black fellow?" she wanted to know then.

He laughed. "Is what the black fellow sure?"

Nancy stood up with the babe in her arms, heaving her. "Go on out with you," she said, "and I'll listen for the bell."

"All right so, I will."

He found MacEmm smoking in the garden room in Ballygihen. He had his towel roll on the table and a carton of Player's cigarettes. Jim couldn't say exactly why, but he thought the Player's a very good sign. The patient-Hygeia's darling, so MacEmm called him-was doing nicely above, no sicks now, only the gripes and the grumps. Mrs. Moore had him eating broth quite tame. Himself, he was tired playing sick-nurse and was off down the Forty Foot. If Jim had his swimmers and any sense he'd come bathing with him.

"I have my swimmers."

"Come then."

But he would just pop up and see Doyler first. He found him dozing still. Jim pulled the covers and let his hand on the forehead. It wasn't a fever at all, only a temperature. "h.e.l.lo there," said Doyler.

"You're awake so."

"I don't know but I'm groggy all over."

"It's the doctor's draught he gave you."

"Have I missed me parade?"

"Don't mind that," said Jim, settling him back on the pillow. "Are you hungry at all?"

He wasn't. He was already dropping away. Jim looked at him a while, sensible of a niggly disappointment. He bent over and kissed him on the glisten of his temple. He tiptoed out of the dimmed rayed room. Old Mrs. Moore on her chair beyond the door smiled so kindly. Yes, she told him, he was bravely now and the broth on the boil whenever.

Oh but it was grand at the Forty Foot and swell to swim. He dived and cut his dash before the regulars' benevolent appraisal. "Was you one of them madcaps swum to the Muglins?" He was indeed. "Gob, but I held the pair of yous in me gla.s.s. Pegging away like blazes. I said to meself, I says, G.o.d help Wales if it gets in them fellas' way. Won me two bob out of that." Jim hoped he hadn't bet on them coming back. "Gob, but I didn't. How's the other fella?" The other fellow was fine sure. Jim glided through the nugatory holiday throng and dived again from the high board. He floated on his back and gazed at the vast heavenly dome above, infinity. Over there the Muglins, and close by, watching from his ledge, MacEmm, reposing, admiring him.

They dried in the sun on the slabs with their towels under. Jim said, "I thought of entering in the Gala this year."

"So you should."

"You'd train me of course."

MacEmm laughed. He dressed, saying he had one or two commissions in Kingstown. Jim followed him along the road past Sandycove Harbor. He was going to Kingstown to buy his ticket. Jim knew this for certain, and he said, "Don't do it, MacEmm, please don't go."

They were pa.s.sing through the little Otranto gardens, and MacEmm stopped now at a bench that overlooked the bay. He said, "It's not how I should have wished it, my dear. I should be long gone by now, but your pal has screwed my plans rather. Drowning, I mean. They say Easter longed for is gone in a day. And now it has gone, and I-My gosh, look at that!"

"Yes," said Jim, "I've seen it before."

"So graceful."

"It's from out Drumcondra way. They have an aerodrome."

"Extraordinary."

"But MacEmm, you can't leave with Doyler sick."

"Doyler has an upset tummy. If he's not better tomorrow he must try for a hospital.-Do you see him climb? How wonderful it must be."

"I'll steal your ticket. I won't steal it, I'll tear it up."

"All alone up there. Such terrific solitude."

"You won't listen to me."

"Oh Jim, I am listening to you. But I don't belong here now. You must surely understand that.-Look, he dives, the vol plane!"

"It's not true, you do so belong."

Jim had tried to bring his arm round the high faraway neck, with clumsy inadequacy, and he could only leave his fingers latched on the shoulder, while the neck strained to follow the puttering engine above. Puttering which repeated now in his own chest as his breath unwilling sobbed.

"Oh Jim, don't cry on me now." The big arm came wrapping round, shrugging his paltry fingers from the shoulder, and pulling him close to the creamy soft cloth of his suit. "Aren't you the beautiful boy of the world? And don't you know I love you too much? Far too much to interfere between you and your pal. But I couldn't bear to watch you with another always. It's too much for me."

"I don't know what difference that makes."

"If you don't know that, my dear, you should never have swum to your Muglins at all."

There was some shiloo on the sea-wall. Fellows weren't watching the skies any more, but were gathering about some news. A startling intelligence, to tell by their faces. "Fairyhouse," MacEmm said. "Apparently an outsider won the National." He told Jim to go back to the house and mind after Doyler, that he'd see him this evening, they'd have that together. Then he got up and made his way to the road. Jim watched his walk, a strong leisurely stride, and his windy clothes billowing behind him. Then after a while, Jim got up too and went down by the sea-wall where the little men were big with faces.

Moments later, mad and tumultuous, he was haring through the garden gate. Up the lawns, through the garden doors, skidding on the polished wood, into the hall where he paused, panting, his hand upon the swirling k.n.o.b of the bal.u.s.ter. His head brimmed with the news. His heart positively had leapt to his mouth. He must collect himself. There were too many things. He heard Mrs. Moore below in the kitchen. He went down. Yes, he said. Broth, he said. Sitting up, yes, that was good. He'd bring it, yes, himself, he would. And thanks now, Mrs. Moore.

He climbed the stairs, judicious of each step. His hurry of spirits-transferred to the tray: the spoon that rattled, broth that spilt on the bread and the good napkin. The door yawned. "Doyler?" He wasn't sitting up at all. "Doyler, are you all right?" Groaning and his breath at a gasp. The poor fingers shook and picked at the bedding. A dread turn he had took. "Doyler?" He must fetch the doctor. The tray had set down: Jim found the flannel seized in his hand. He swabbed the forehead, saying, "Doyler, Doyler, can't you hear me at all?"

His hand was nabbed, a strength jerked him down: great big s...o...b..r on his face, and Doyler saying, "Gaum you."

"Eejit you!" shouted Jim with stunning ferocity. "The fear of G.o.d in me, you did."

"Serves you right and all. Leaving me here to me fate."

"You wasn't left. You was sleeping sure."

"All over me one minute, and I close me eyes, you're off. Poor old Doyler can fetch for himself."

"You had Mrs. Moore outside the door."

"Any excuse to be gone of me."

"A rotten low trick to play."

Jim flung the curtains and day gushed in. What time was it, he wanted to know, what day was it even. Was that broth he smelt? His belly thought his throat was cut. Did Jim know at all what a horrible big house was this to be abandoned in it? And where was his clothes?

"It's two, maybe three in the afternoon."

"Give us here that tray. I've the hungry staggers whiffing it."

Jim considered him while he ate or, better, slurped the broth. A fright he looked with his hair tussled and the pillow-creases on his face. He still looked pasty and his eyes lacked glister. "Easy," he said, "you're not the better of it yet."

Doyler snorted a look. There was nothing ever the wrong with him. He was maybe tired, was all. He was maybe after neglecting himself a trifle in Dublin. Neglecting the inner man, he elaborated, patting his stomach. Patting it a touch too hard, for he let a groan, "Mary and Joseph, the cramp in me belly."

"You got a bug out of the water," said Jim complacently, taking the bowl before he had it bolted. "You might have known not to go guzzling the Irish Sea. Truthfully now, how poorly do you feel?"

"I'm grand. Grand total. Who was the biddy outside? Was it she made the broth? Listen and I tell you. I went out looking for the flush-down article-"

"There's a pot under the bed sure."

"Never mind that. h.e.l.lo now, says she. h.e.l.lo missus, says I. How're you coming up? says she. Fine now missus, thanks. You're rallying anyway, she says, looking me up and down. And there I was, the full of the door, stark mother naked."

"Never," said Jim. "Oh gosh, you weren't?"

"G.o.d's truth. And you know that way you are when you wake up?" He made a size with his hands. "There's no aiming at a po with that."

"Don't, Doyler."

"And there she was, calm as clocks, getting her eyeful up and down. You're rallying, says she. I nearly bursted. Oh, laugh away. I tell you, I was back in bed before you'd cry crack. She had me all of a heap thinking she might be getting notions."

"You ought never be let out," said Jim. "And your shirt only on the rail where you flung it."

"Where? Sure I didn't think, the house so quiet. Pa.s.s us over that now and I'll be making me move."

"You won't be making any move," said Jim. "You're stopping here. Two days' bed, the doctor was decided."

"Aye aye. Suppose he left a note excusing me work and all. Better, a draft on his bankers to tide me over. A decent set, these half-crown medicals."

"He was a guinea doctor, matter of fact."

"A guinea doctor! Kiss me pink. I'm not rallying at all, I'm resurrected. Get on now, Jim." He made motions of getting up, but the pain gripped him. It wasn't sudden, you could see on his face it was coming round. He arched forward clasping his belly. Seconds and it was gone, and he flumped on the pillow. But he looked harrowed after, and a little surprised.

"Is it very bad?"

"I don't know, it rolls round. Actually, it is. I'm at death's door if you did but know. It isn't upright I'll be leaving this premises. Oh Jim, won't you pray for your pal? And won't you promise me, Jim, you'll cry at me funeral? Tell them, 'twas of a broken heart and the colic he died."

"Shut up," said Jim. "I don't know anyone would cry over you."

"Serious now, they'll be wondering in town what's happened me. I didn't say, but I skipped a guard detail Sunday morning, then the evening I missed parade. I have me officers, you know. Year and a day I'll be peeling spuds and the revolution nowhere the nearer."

"What revolution?"

"Gaum you. Just give us me shirt and find me me uniform."

"I can't."