Patrick McCabe - The Butcher Boy

So that was the end of Nugents, for the time being anyway.

The sergeant was going on about ma in the front seat how he'd courted her years ago when she was one of the nicest women in the town only for the tribe she had to get herself in with. Thank God she's not here to see the like of this he said.

No, I said, she's in the lake, and it was me put her there.

By Christ if you were mine I'd break every bone in your body, he said. Then he wiped his mouth and muttered: Not that you could be any different.

We sped by the convent. There was a few of the lads from the school kicking a ball up against the wall. I gave them a big wave through the window and they waved back for a minute until they seen it was me. Then what did they do only pick the ball up as if I was going to get at it or something. I waved again but they pretended not to see me. They weren't so keen on me after the time they had me on the school team that played Carrick. Oh now says the master you're a wiry wee buck you'll make a good winger. I've seen you you can move as fast as a March hare when you want to. I even scored two goals I don't know what they were talking about. It was this big galoot on the other team. He says to me half-way through the match right you you shifty little fucker you're going to get it and what does he do only cut the legs from under me I did nothing he says to the ref and gets away with it. I was all twisted up with pain and I was limping for a good twenty minutes to look at me you'd think poor Francie Brady will never play again. That must have been what he thought for the next time I had the ball he comes strolling over to me as if he's just going to pluck it off my toe. Well he could if he wanted to he could do what he liked all I was interested in was getting him back for what he did on me so soon as he comes over I lifted the boot from behind and bang right in under between the legs and he goes down like a sack of spuds agh agh and all this. Just before the ref came over I managed to get another dig in at the butt of his back, studs and all. I was going to try the same trick what did I do but the ref took my name and put me off. The master gave out to me and wouldn't listen to my side of the story so I says fuck youse and your football after that. But I don't think they wanted me on the team anyway. I'd say that big Carrick bastard would be glad to hear that. He was so big I could nearly run in between his legs. Before I kicked the crigs off him that is.

The sergeant reminded me of the clown in Duffy's circus not the way he looked but when he talked. Especially when he was telling you all the terrible things were going to happen to you now. H'ho! he'd say. And H'haw! Just the same as Sausage the clown. H'ho yewer an awfill man altogedder, Sausage'd say and away off round the ring with his stripey legs flying. Him and the sergeant must have been born in the same town or something.

He was off again. H'ho when a the priests get their hands on you there won't be so much guff outa ye h'ho. I said I'm sorry Sergeant Sausage but he stubbed the fag excitedly in the ashtray and said its too late for that me buck you shoulda thoughta that when you were in Nugents up to your tricks! H'ho aye!

Boo hoo, Sergeant Sausage, I said.

He was so excited he didn't even notice I had called him Sergeant Sausage. There were laurel bushes all along the avenue and a gardener forking manure and muttering to himself. When we went past in the car he stood looking after us with one hand on his hip and tipping his cap back. I made a face at him through the back window and he nearly fell into the manure heap. Up she rose out of nowhere the house of a hundred windows. This is a grand spot I said. H'ho says the sergeant we'll see if you say that in six months time! H'ha.

A man made of bubbles in charge of a school for bad boys it was hard to believe but it was true for there he was at the window his big bubble head and out he comes bouncing bounce bounce ah Howareye! he says to the sergeant, I never saw such a big bright white polished head as that old Father Bubble had. Howareye at all! he says again and the sergeant starts to huff and puff and try to dicky up his uniform. Oh not too bad now Father did ye have a nice trip not too bad eh Father thanks.

Ah that's grand said Bubble.

Then he looks over at me. So this is the famous Francie Brady, he says, doing tricks with his fingers and saying hmm hmm.

Yes Father, I said, Its the one and only Francie Brady.

You speak when you're spoken to says Sausage but Bubble raised his hand and said no problem Father.

I gave Bubble a big wink good man yourself Father I said and next thing his face goes all cloudy. He's a bad article says the sergeant and I thought he was going to make a go at me.

Bubble was staring at me with these two eyes like a pair of screwdrivers. You'd do well to keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr Brady, that's what I'd say to you now. The sergeant liked that he started rubbing his hands and going six months time six months time!

Then the two of them just stood there glaring at me for a minute I thought they were going to light on me and start kicking me down the avenue with these mad lets batter Francie Brady! eyes on them. But they didn't. You just heed my advice, says Bubble, and then he sank his arms deep into these slits in his soutane and smiled at Sausage and away off talking then about football and the weather. Sausage thought the town might win the county championship oh I don't know about that says Bubble. Neither did I but I thought a good result would be: The other team – 100 goals. The town – 0. I was going to say that to see what they'd say but then I says ah I'll not bother my arse. They went on jabbering for over half an hour and left me standing there like a gawk. Then Sausage says: Well I'll be off so. He looked over at me: I'll be keeping tabs on you, he says.

Yes, Sergeant, I said.

He backed off slowly as if I was going to pull out a revolver blam blam him and Bubble one in the head apiece but I wasn't then brrm brrm phut phut and h'ho that was the end of him.

Now, says Bubble stroking his chin and staring right at me, maybe we understand each other a little bit better. What do you make of your new home, Mr Brady?

Its grand says I, good enough for pigs.

What did you say?, says Bubble and he didn't like that either.

He gave my jumper a chuck.

You'll find no pigs here!, he says. But he could say what he liked I knew well it was a school for pigs.

The Incredible School for Pigs!, I said in my telly voice.

Did you hear what I said says Bubble there's no pigs! This is a school.

Indeed it is, I said – A school for pigs!

There's no pigs! he said and his voice squeaked a bit at the end it was a good laugh.

Welcome to the school for pigs, I said and pulled away from him.

Don't worry, he says, you're not the first and you won't be the last!

He was rolling up his sleeves. He didn't say the first what. I cupped my hand and the echo glided in low under the laurels.

Little pigs! Little pigs! Open up! I cried.

He tried to get a hold of me but I was too slippery for him and when I went down on all fours he couldn't manage it at all. I crawled around him and that near drove him mad. I let a few snorts out of me. There was an old priest above at a window. I went up on my hind legs and begged a bit for him. Snort I said and a big grin.

Then Bubble caught me a rap on the side of the head and I saw stars. That's nothing to what you'll get, he said. I was glad he did it. I wanted him to give me a proper hiding.

I said all sorts of things to get him to do it. I said welcome to the pig school. I stuck my face right up to his and scrunched it up into a snout. I snorted. Go on, I said and I stuck my chin out. But instead of laying into me he backed off and just looked at me with the screwdriver eyes. He wasn't afraid or anything. He was just looking and taking it all in so then I stopped. Are you quite finished now he said and I said I was. I was exhausted and I had a headache. All these crows on the telephone wires. What are you looking at cunts, I thought. Then he says get inside out of that and no more of your lip. I went upstairs to the dormitory where there was a saint on every window-sill, such a shower of dying-looking bastards I never seen. Bubble was right behind me as I humped the case. I pointed to Our Lady. She's in a bad way I said to him, she needs to suck a zube. He said nothing only to be down at Benediction in half an hour and up at six the next morning for footing turf in the bog. There was a little Jesus over on the window across from my bed. He was looking over at me. Poor poor Francie Brady he was saying: Isn't it a terrible pity too? I went over to him and says: Isn't what a terrible pity?