Roddy Doyle - The Van

Jimmy Sr got the dollop of sauce up off the carpet, most of it. He licked his finger.

— Ready? said Darren.

— Hang on, said Jimmy Sr.

He rubbed the carpet and the stain faded and went. It was grand.

— Righ’, said Jimmy Sr.

He’d the vinegar in his left hand and the sauce bottle in his right. He stood beside Darren, a few feet away, to be on the safe side.

— Fire away, Darren.

Darren lifted the Pause button.

— YEAH—

I GOT THE SHAKE—

I GOT THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

— Vinegar!

They threw up their vinegar bottles

— I GOT THE HIPPY—

And caught them, together.

— Yeow!

They laughed.

— WUUU—

I CAN’T SIT STILL—

— Sauce!

They did it; the bottles landed back down flat in their right hands.

— YEAH—

I GET MY FILL—

— The both of them!

— NOW WITH THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

And Veronica came in and caught them.

Darren managed to catch his two bottles but Jimmy Sr lost his concentration completely; he seized up and the bottles went down past his hands and onto the floor. The vinegar stayed there but the sauce bounced and rolled over and some of the goo on the nozzle came off on the carpet. Darren smacked the Pause button.

It took Veronica a while to say anything. She was more surprised than they were. The two of them were in shorts and T-shirts, holding vinegar and ketchup bottles. Maybe they’d been juggling.

That would have explained the ketchup she now saw on the ceiling.

— Ah no, look—!

— Wha’?—Where? — Jaysis, how did tha’ get up there?

— I don’t know what you two messers are up to—

— We’re not messin’, Veronica, Jimmy Sr assured her. — It’s business.

— Well, you can do it somewhere else, said Veronica.

She saw the carpet now.

— I don’t believe it—

And now the smell of the vinegar hit her as well.

— It’s a routine for the van, Jimmy Sr explained. — We were workin’ on it.

He followed Veronica’s eyes.

— Don’t worry abou’ them, he told her. — They’!! wash ou’.

Veronica was looking at the marks on the curtains.

— Get out, said Veronica. — Get out; go on. You bloody big eejit, yeh, she said to Jimmy Sr.

She just looked at Darren.

— Come on, Darren, said Jimmy Sr. — We’ll go ou’ the back, an’ leave Veronica alone.

Darren wanted to say something to his mother; not Sorry — he didn’t know what.

— Bring the yoke, Darren, said Jimmy Sr. — We’ll be ou’ the back, Veronica, if anyone calls. — Will I open the windows for yeh there? It might get rid o’ the smell—

— No, said Veronica. — Go on.

Darren unplugged the twins’ ghettoblaster. He turned it on quickly to check if the batteries were working.

— SHAKE IT TO THE—

Yeah; they were grand.

There was only his mother in the room now, but he still couldn’t say anything. He got out the door and followed his da through the kitchen.

He’d left the cassette cover behind him, on the couch. Veronica picked it up.

Cocktail, she read. Original Motion Picture Soundtrack. There was a picture of a nice-looking lad on the front. His mouth was shut but she was sure he had lovely teeth. She read inside to see who he was. Tom Cruise. So that was what he looked like; the twins were always going on about him.

She studied the damage again. It wasn’t too bad. The curtains needed a wash anyway. A damp cloth would get rid of the ketchup on the ceiling. Darren could do that.

She went back to the kitchen; she wanted to see what they were at.

— FOR GOODNESS SAKE —

I GOT THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

YEAH — I GOT THE SHAKE—

She turned on the cold tap and filled the sink although she wasn’t going to do anything with the water. She just wanted an excuse to be at the kitchen window.

— WUUU—

I CAN’T SIT STILL—

— Vinegar!

She looked.

They were standing out there, side by side, legs apart.

— WITH THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

They caught the bottles.

— Yahaa! said Jimmy Sr.

Darren looked around to see if anyone was looking over the hedge at them, and behind him into the field. There wasn’t anyone, as far as Veronica could see. There was bound to be someone looking out a window though; there always was. Poor Darren.

— WELL I CAN SHAKE IT TO THE LEFT—

— Concentrate now, Darren.

— I CAN SHAKE IT TO THE RIGHT—

— Sauce!

— I CAN DO THE HIPPY SHAKE-SHAKE—

The sauce bottle hopped off Jimmy Sr’s palm but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground, then got back into place.

— WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT—

OOOOOHH -

Darren was quite good at it, streets ahead of the other fool. They threw up both bottles and Darren did a complete spin, in time to catch them. His shorts fitted him as well. Jimmy Sr’s were up at the back and down at the front, holding his belly up like a sling.

She turned off the tap.

— FOR GOODNESS SAKE—

She lowered her arms into the water — it was nice — and looked out. She wished Sharon was here, or even the twins; they’d have loved it. Darren flipped the vinegar over his shoulder, and caught it.

— Stop showin’ off.

He saw her looking at him; Jimmy Sr did. She looked into the water. She lifted a hand and dropped it, as if she was doing something at the sink.

— YEAH — I GOT THE SHAKE—

I GOT THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

It got darker. She looked up. She jumped back: Jimmy Sr had his face squashed up to the window. Cold water got through her blouse. She screamed, and laughed. His nose was crooked and white against the glass. He was miming to the Georgia Satellites.

— OOOH I CAN’T SIT STILL—

He kissed the glass. She saw Darren behind him, looking around to see if anyone was looking. Veronica rapped the glass.

— Go away. You’re smudging the glass.

— Ah, fuck it, said Jimmy Sr.

But he lowered himself from the ledge and backed into the garden still miming, with his hand clutching his crotch.

SHAKE IT TO THE LEFT—

SHAKE IT TO THE RIGHT—

DO THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

He turned, and dropped his shorts and wriggled. God, he was terrible. Poor Darren was bright red.

— WITH ALL OF YOUR MIGHT—

— Pull up your trousers! Veronica shouted.

Darren pointed something out to her. She leaned over the sink and saw Mary Caprani, two gardens down, hanging off her clothes-line and gawking in at Jimmy Sr’s war dance. Veronica thought she’d fall, the laughing took all her strength. She was bent completely over the sink, her face was against the tap, but she couldn’t get up. The face on Mary Caprani; she’d been waiting years to see scandal like this.

Darren tapped Jimmy Sr’s shoulder and showed him Mrs Caprani.

Jimmy Sr ran for the back door and tried to rescue his shorts at the same time. He fell into the kitchen.

— Jaysis, Veronica! Did yeh see Radar Caprani lookin’ at me?

— Never mind her, said Veronica. — She’s probably just jealous.

— Jaysis, said Jimmy Sr.

He was sitting on the floor. He lifted his T-shirt, pulled in his stomach and looked down at his marriage tackle.

— Maybe you’re right, he said.

Veronica’s blouse was drenched. She’d have to get out of it.

The Satellites were still blemming away outside.

Jimmy Sr grabbed the hem of her skirt when she was getting past him. He joined in with the band.

— I CAN’T SIT STILL—

WITH THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE—

He put his head in under her skirt.

— Mammy, Darren’s playin’ our ghetto—

Linda ran into the kitchen.

— Jesus!