Donal Ryan - The Thing About December

People can be an awful dose. If you only had to look at them on television, everything would be grand. When they wanted to buy your father’s land and say things about you in newspapers and make little of you below in the village and be your friend and be your nearly girlfriend and shoot lads over what they done to you or really over what was done to them and look out of their mouths at you for a reaction or an answer or a laugh or a digout or an action of which you’re not capable in a million years, they’d wear you out. They’d go through you for a shortcut. They’d wreck your head, the townie lads would say. Isn’t it a noble thing all the same, loneliness? There’s dignity in it, at least. You can’t make a show of yourself when you’re on your own. You can’t sound stupid opposite nobody. People are better inside in your head. When you’re longing for them, they’re perfect.

THAT AULD CROSSNESS came back around the start of December. Siobhán said to Johnsey that Mumbly Dave was only a user. Mumbly Dave said Siobhán was only teasing him. Siobhán said Mumbly Dave was a right weirdo. Imagine, a man in his thirties hanging around with young fellas, driving around in his Johnny-go-fast car, with everyone laughing at him! Mumbly Dave said you’d be as well off give that wan the road, I’m only saying it for your own good, she’s waiting until you haven’t a drop of blood left in your brain because it’s all holding up your horn and you’ll ask her to marry you and she’ll bleed you dry. Siobhán said she couldn’t believe that thing with Mumbly Dave and the barn and he’d make some balls of that job and leave you in the shit, don’t even dream of it, no one would want to live in a crappy apartment in a smelly old cowshed. Mumbly Dave said she only wants you selling everything up so she can give the rest of her days going out foreign and buying expensive shite inside in Brown Thomas like all them wans that thinks they’re bigshots. Siobhán said Mumbly Dave was probably a closet gay. Mumbly Dave said Siobhán was a sneaky little bitch. Then he got kind of sorry and said Yerra lookit, women don’t be in their right mind half the time, with their periods and what have you.

He wasn’t even sure when they had started to read each other so violently behind each other’s backs. It sort of built up over a couple of weeks: a little dig laughed off was brought up when the digger was gone; a smart comment ignored at the time was repeated indignantly when the commenter was in the toilet. They started to change the air when they shared a room. They made it harder to breathe: you’d be aware of your lungs filling and emptying and you’d try not to make noises breathing because that drove Siobhán mad and she’d want to know why you sounded like a fucking respirator and Mumbly Dave would say Leave the man breathe any way he wants, and she’d say Mind your own business, and he’d say it was his business if she was tormenting his friend and she’d say Oh really? And he’d say Yes really. And she’d take a pull of her fag and blow the smoke hard in his direction and he’d tell her she was a classy bird all right and she’d say Are you still here, David? Have you not got a hot date? And she’d make that snorting noise at the back of her nose like she thought he was no more going on a date that night than the man in the moon and he’d say I have actually, and she’d say You’d better run along so, and he’d say I’ll see you, Johnsey, and Johnsey would only say See you, and he never even got up off of his hole to walk as far as the yard with him any more, only sat looking at Siobhán and smelling her and hating himself. Mumbly Dave said he was pussy-whipped . What the hell did that mean? It was some kind of a weakness, like some kind of a sex thing that only a fool would get involved in.

If he couldn’t ask Mumbly Dave what he should buy Siobhán for Christmas, who could he ask? He knew if he went down to the bakery the Unthanks would give a whole hour at least talking about it with him. Himself would suggest something silly like a pound of sausages and Herself would tell him don’t be daft and she’d laugh and he’d laugh and nudge Johnsey when she wasn’t looking and they’d warm him with smiles and fill him with fresh bread and buns and tea. But he’d be afraid then they’d want to tell him they were sorry they hadn’t told him about the consortium and he’d say it was grand, what about it, weren’t they perfectly entitled? And they’d say about how they didn’t know what way it would work out and it was no treachery and Jackie knew all about it. And what if he started crying like an eejit? It’d be out of sadness over their sadness and the mention of Daddy, but it’d only make everything worse, and Herself would start crying again and she’d stand at the sink, knotting a tea towel in her soft old hands, saying everyone invested with them, Johnsey, everyone thought it was a great idea, everyone …

SIOBHÁN SAID they were going to go out properly at Christmas. She hadn’t had a proper night out since her going-away do with the fatarses from the hospital. And that was crap, because only three of them came and they were as dry as shites. They talked about babies all night! Who wants to spend a whole night out talking about babies ? God, like. Two fellas come over at one stage and they were really funny, and one of them, God he was gas , was messing around and he just rubbed his hand sort of by accident really off one of their arses and she screeched like a banshee and the bouncer came over and told the fellas to get out and like, so what if he did feel her arse, he was a fella , that’s what they do , he wasn’t trying to rape the silly bitch and she should have been grateful, anyway, that anyone wanted to put their hand on her scabby old arse, never mind a ride of a fella. God, like.

Johnsey pictured himself grabbing that ride of a fella’s hand and twisting it around until his wrist snapped like a dry twig and he went off bawling like a child with a kicked arse for himself and his hand on backwards and he wouldn’t be so funny then, he wouldn’t be the big gas man then, over talking smart to girls and taking liberties and thinking he was God’s gift. Johnsey would put manners on him.

No he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t say a word to him. If he was ever in a pub or a disco or one of them places with Siobhán and some smartyhole came over all auld chat and was trying to get off with her, what would he do? Probably he’d stand up like an eejit and get redder and redder until someone asked him was he okay and the smartyhole would look at him and smirk and Siobhán would roll her eyes in crossness and the smartyhole fella would smirk back at her and she’d get thick with him for leaving her down opposite people and looking like a lunatic and what the hell was wrong with him, anyway, she was only talking for God’s sake. Maybe if Mumbly Dave was there as well with his teacher wan it’d be okay because Mumbly Dave would be able to say something smart to your man and make little of him and sure in all fairness if they were all out together they’d be like proper people on a night out and no one would be over schmoozing with Siobhán and being gas and making her laugh the way he wasn’t able to.

Siobhán wanted to go in to this restaurant in the city. They have a mural downstairs of Venice, and you can sit in this corner, surrounded by the mural, and it’s nearly like being in Venice! And they do the nicest carbonara you ever tasted. What the hell was carbonara? How would he order something that was wrote down in a foreign language? Probably he’d ask for something and he’d think he was saying it right but the waiter wouldn’t be able to make out what he was saying and he’d say Pardon me, sir, and Johnsey would have to say it again, and your man still wouldn’t hear him and he’d be kind of smiling at him and he’d lean his Italian ear right in to Johnsey’s mouth and he’d accidentally roar it out into his ear and your man would jump back and look frightened of him and people at other tables would stare over and your man would say That’s not a main course, sir, it’s a type of ice cream, and he’d snigger and Siobhán would laugh and people at other tables would laugh as well and shake their heads, and he’d wish he’d done away with his stupid self while he’d had the impetus that time.