Patrick McCabe: The Butcher Boy

He drew out and out his boot through it, the glass went everywhere. I'll fix it, he said, I'll fix it good and fucking proper.

Then he fell asleep on the sofa with one shoe hanging off.

There wasn't much I could do then I got fed up watching the birds hop along the garden wall so I went off up the street. I said to myself well that's the end of John Wayne I knew it'd lie there glass and all and nobody would ever bother coming to fix it. Ah well, I said sure Joe can always tell me what happens and it was when I was thinking that I saw Philip and Mrs Nugent coming. I knew she thought I was going to turn back when I saw them. She leaned over and said something to Philip. I knew what she was saying but I don't think she knew I knew. She crinkled up her nose and said in a dead whisper: Just stands there on the landing and lets the father do what he likes to her. You'd never do the like of that would you Philip? You'd always stand by me wouldn't you?

Philip nodded and smiled. She smiled happily and then it twisted a bit and the hand went up again as she said: Of course you know what she was doing with the fuse wire don't you Philip?

She thought I was going to turn back all red when she said that but I didn't. I just kept on walking. Ah there you are Mrs Nugent I says with a big grin, and Philip. She looked right through me and it was one of those looks that is supposed to make you shrivel up and die but it only made me grin even more. I was standing in the middle of the footpath. Mrs Nugent held on her hat with one hand and took Philip with the other would you let me by please she says.

Oh no I can't do that I said, you have to pay to get past. She had all these broken nerve ends on her nose and her eyebrows went away up nearly meeting her hair what do you mean what on earth do you mean she said and I could see Philip frowning with his Mr Professor face wondering was it serious maybe, maybe something he could investigate or do a project on. Well he could if he wanted I didn't care as long as he paid. It was called the Pig Toll Tax. Yes, Mrs Nugent I said, the pig toll tax it is and every time you want to get past it costs a shilling. Her lips got so thin you really would think they were drawn with a pencil and the skin on her forehead was so tight I thought maybe the bones were going to burst out. But they didn't and I says to Philip I'll tell you what Philip you can have half. So what's that then one shilling for Mrs Nooge, I said and twopence halfpenny for Philip. I don't know why I called her Mrs Nooge, it just came into my head. I thought it was a good thing to call her but she didn't. She got as red as a beetroot then. Yup, I said again, ya gotta pay the old tax Mrs Nooge, and I stood there with my thumbs hooked in my braces like a Western old timer. She got all heated up then oh yes hot and bothered. Philip didn't know what to do he had given up the idea of investigating the pig toll tax I think he just wanted to get away altogether but I couldn't allow that until the pig toll tax was paid, that was the rules of pig land I told them. I'm sorry I said like they always do when they're asking you for money, if you ask me its far too much but that's the way it is I'm afraid. It has to be collected someone has todo it ha ha. She tried to push her way past then but I got a grip of her by the sleeve of her coat and it made it all awkward for her she couldn't see what was holding her back. Her hat had tilted sideways and there was a lemon hanging down over the brim. She tried to pull away but I had a good tight hold of the sleeve and she couldn't manage it.

Durn taxes, I said, ain't fair on folks. When I looked again there was a tear in her eye but she wouldn't please me to let it out. When I saw that I let go of her sleeve and smiled. Right, I says I'll tell you what, I'll let you by this time folks but remember now in future – make sure and have the pig toll tax ready. I stood there staring after them, she was walking faster than Philip trying to fix the lemon at the same time telling him to come on. When they were passing the cinema I shouted I ain't foolin' Mrs Nooge but I don't know if she heard me or not. The last thing I saw was Philip turning to look back but she pulled him on ahead.

A fellow went by and I says to him do you know what its a bad state of affairs when people won't pay a tax to get by. Who are you he says. Brady I said.

He was wheeling a black bike with a coat thrown over the handlebars. He stopped and rested it against a pole then dug deep in the pocket of his trousers and produced a pipe and a tin of tobacco. Brady? he says, would that be Brady of the Terrace? That's right I says. O, he says, I see. You see what, I said. Your father was a great man one time, he says. He was one of the best musicians ever was in this town. He went to see Eddie Calvert, he says then. I said I wanted to hear no more about Eddie Calvert. You don't like music, he says, do you think the town will win again Saturday? I told him I wanted to hear nothing about football either. You don't think its a great thing the town won the cup? he says. No, I says. I said it was it pity they didn't lose. I see, he says, well what's this tax you're talking about, you seem to care about that. He was all on for a discussion about the government and the way things had gone. There was a smell of turf fires and buttermilk off him. He tapped the bowl of his pipe against his thigh and he says which tax would this be now.

He thought it was some outrageous tax the government had brought in and he was about to say its time this quit or they have the country destroyed when I said ah no its not the government at all. It was invented by me, and its only the people I say.

And who are you, he says.

Francie Pig the Toll Tax Man, I says and he shook his head and tapped the pipe again, that's a good laugh he says.

Laugh, I said, I don't know where you get the idea its a good laugh. Then he said tsk tsk and you're an awful man altogether. He puffed on the pipe. Pig Toll Tax, he says, that's the first time I ever heard that now. He kept opening and closing his mouth over the brown stem like a fish smoking. Oh you needn't worry your head about it I said, it has nothing to do with you. What it really should have been called was The Mrs Nugent and Nobody Else At All Tax but I didn't tell him that. I see he says well in that case I'll be on my way.

His index finger jumped off his forehead gluck now he said and away off up the town with the bike sideways and the wheels ticking.

I went into the shop. The whine of the bacon sheer and the shopgirl licking a pencil stub racing up and down a wobbly tower of numbers on the back of a paper bag. The women were standing over by the cornflakes saying things have got very dear. Its very hard to manage now oh it is indeed do you know how much I paid for Peter's shoes above in the shop. When they seen me coming they all stopped talking. One of them moved back and bumped against the display case. There you are ladies I said and they all went right back on their heels at the same time. What's this? I says, the woman with three heads? When I said that they weren't so bad. Flick – back come the smiles. Ah Francie, they said, there you are. Here I am I said. They leaned right over to me and in a soft top secret voice said how's your mother Francie? Oh I says she's flying she's above in the garage and it won't be long now before she's home. They're going to give her a service I says, hand me down the spanner Mike! Ha, ha, they laughed, that was a good one. Yup, says I, she has to come home shortly now to get the baking done for Uncle Alo's party. So your Uncle Alo's coming home! they said. Christmas Eve I said, all the way from London. Would you credit that now says Mrs Connolly with a warm little shiver, and will he be staying long? Two weeks says I. Two weeks she says and smiled I was going to say do you not believe me or something Mrs Connolly but I didn't I had enough on my plate with Mrs Nugent without Connolly starting. He did well in London, Francie, your Uncle Alo, says the other woman. Then they all started it. Oh he did well surely he did indeed, a great big job and more luck to him its not easy in these big places like London. It is not! Mrs Connolly'd say and then someone else would say the same thing over again. It was like The History of Alo programme. But I didn't mind. I said now you're talking and all this. Mrs Connolly said: I saw him the last time he was home with a lovely red hankie in his breast pocket and a beautiful blue suit.