Patrick McCabe - The Butcher Boy

I closed my eyes and breathed in it was like breathing in the whole cold fresh and crunchy town. I could hear the chickenhouse fan droning away steady as ever down in our lane behind the houses. One day Joe said to me: Its the best sound in the world, that fan. I said why. He said: Because you always know its there.

And he was right. If you weren't thinking of it you wouldn't hear it. But once you listened, it was always there humming away softly like a quiet machine that kept the town going.

The baker was unloading trays of bread steaming from his van. Grouse Armstrong was huddled in the library doorway and off goes the drunk across the Diamond singing into his beer bottle I wonder who's kissing her now? Then he stops and starts into Grouse do you know me do you? Uh! Uh! Grouse just opened one eye for a second and then went back to sleep. You're only a baaaastard! says your man and then tumbles away off round the Jubilee Road on rubber legs. I wasn't expecting Roche so I got a bit of a shock when I looked up and seen him standing there staring at me. Who the fuck did he think he was – Count Dracula?

Ah hello there Doctor, I said, and how are things?

He didn't say anything just looked and that was what I didn't like about Roche the way he looked at you. He was saying: I know something about you. You knew by him he'd stand there for as long as he liked without saying a word.

I don't know why the fuck I did it for he didn't ask me anything but I started into telling him everything, driving to the school with the sergeant and what a laugh it was and then the bogmen and all that. I could feel his eyes all over me making notes. I went back over a few of the stories, the gardener and that, and then I said yes doctor its changed times now. The old days is all finished. I kept waiting for him to say I'm glad to hear that Francie or that's great news, like the priest, but he didn't say anything. He said nothing and just wiped his lips with a hankie and then looked at it. What do you think of that, doc, all the old days being finished? I gave him a big grin even though my head was hurting me, it was hard no matter what you were talking about not to think about the business with Joe and all that and wondering could you fix it some way or blank it out so that it hadn't happened. He lowered his voice and I had to strain to hear what he said. He said yes, yes that's good but I could tell by the sound of it that he didn't believe me. I told him more then, about the boilerhouse and the fags but he just tapped the leather of his black bag and sucked his teeth saying mm. All of a sudden it came into my head what the hell do I care if he believes me or not who the fuck is he, doctor, some doctor, he couldn't even keep ma out of the garage, could he? I didn't care about him. He could say anything he liked. I'd tell him that – fuck him! You know nothing I said you know nothing about my ma, what the the fuck do you know about her she should never have gone near you it was you put her in there in the first place what the fuck would you know Roche what would you know about anything! I was wondering would he go so far as to make a wind at me after all that but when I looked up all I seen was the door of the hotel closing and him chatting away to the receptionist through the glass. All of a sudden I thought I heard someone calling: Francie!

I thought it was Joe whee-hoo I said but it was someone I didn't know who it was. I wasn't sure what to do then or where to go then I says what am I on about I'll go down to Joe's where else would I go. I blew my nail hopping about on the step then out comes Mr Purcell. Well Mr Purcell I said is the man himself there. He looked at me for a minute then he looked over my shoulder and waved at somebody some neighbour getting out of a car with a box of groceries. No, he says, Joe isn't here. The neighbour called something and Mr Purcell laughed. Oh now, he says. They went on yapping there for a while, about the weather and all this. Ah sure the farmers will never be pleased says your man. No, says Mr Purcell, now you said it. There was a fair crowd at the match Sunday. There was. Marty Dowds had a good game. He had. Marty's shaping up to be a right wee player. He is.

I just stood there on the step waiting for your man to go in. Right he says I'll see you and then he'd start into something else cars or some other shite. Then he says right so good luck now. He waved and next thing Mr Purcell smiles and closes the door behind him it just happened he didn't slam it or anything. I'd been waiting so long I forgot what I wanted to say and when I remembered it was too late and the door was closed. I waited there on the step for a minute then I just went away.

I went round to Roche's house a few times and waited for him but he never appeared I think he must have went on holidays.

They said I had to stay at the primary school even if I was older than the rest. I didn't know any of them. My class had gone on ahead to the secondary school along with Joe. I sat at the back and did nothing. No – that's not true. I played Oxo and wrote Francis Brady was here with a penknife. The master says to me who put the Vikings back into the sea I says Daniel O'Connell come out here he says and gave me a crack of the stair rod across the arm. I'll give it to you, he says, you needn't think you'll try any of your tricks with me Brady! Leddy's the man for you, that's the only place you'll ever be any good for!

I knew why he was doing that, he heard them saying in the jakes Brady was going to batter the master. I don't how they got that into their heads I had more to do than batter doddery old masters with whiskey noses and hands that wouldn't stop shaking so I thought the best thing to do was quit going to school altogether. They were all getting fond of this fellow Leddy. Da looks at me and says: Its either school or Leddy's! You'd be as well to make up your mind!

Leddy was the butcher who owned the slaughterhouse. There was always jobs there for no one wanted to do it. To hell with Leddy and his pigs, I said. Its good enough for the likes of you da said lying about here morning noon and night! and went off mumbling to the Tower.

Sometimes I'd just lie there on the sofa until Joe got out of school. After a while you didn't even notice the smell only if someone else mentioned it. There was an old chicken da took home out of the Tower after a do one night. It was all flies and maggots so I fucked that out. I think Grouse got it out of the bin the crafty bastard.

I always met Joe at the bottom of Church Hill. There was no more talk about the school for pigs or anything that went on there, that was all finished now and soon it would be all back the way it used to be. I got things for him, not comics he didn't read them much anymore, fags or sweets maybe. I got the fags from behind the bar in the hotel I knew the barman went out to change the barrel at the same time every day. I got the sweets in Mary's but I paid for them I'd never lift anything on her. Then we'd head off out to the river. I told him I could get him anything he wanted. We had some laughs out there. It was no different to the old days. It was just the same only better. Isn't it Joe? I'd say. He said it was. I says its better than the school and exams and all that shit isn't it Joe. I asked him to put on the cowboy voices like he used to. He said he couldn't do them any more. Go on, try Joe I said. I can't do them, he said, that's a long time ago. I know it is Joe I said but I'll bet you can still do them. No he says I can't. But I knew he could. Try it Joe I says. Then he said it – OK fellas we're ridin' out!

You see Joe, I said, you can do it!

It was just like John Wayne. You'd swear it was him. I was over the moon when he did that voice. He used to spin his silver colt and say it just like that – OK fellas we're ridin' out! Say it again Joe I said, say it again! I couldn't stop asking him to say it again. But I had to in the end for I could see him getting red under the eyes and I didn't want to annoy him anyway he'd said it enough he was tired he said he had to get back. I left him in town and then I came back out myself. I'd try doing the voice but I could never get it as good as Joe. I'd lie there on flattened yellow grass where he had been but no matter how I tried it I always got it arseways. It didn't sound like John Wayne at all. It sounded more like the bird what do you call him – I taught I taw a puddytat.