Colm Brady

The Prom on the Run

Skipper turned away as the Angelus came on the television. The bells indicated the news was on its way and skipper didn’t much like the news, not these days. He went into the flat’s small kitchen followed by Banjax - his mongrel collie sheepdog. Banjax wasn’t the brightest as dogs went but he was certain it was dinnertime now. The grimy cooker contained one Fray Bentos meat pie, more than enough for the two creatures of habit. Skipper used to have a huge appetite when he was at sea but not these days, now he subsisted on ready meals and sandwiches - whatever the dog liked.
"That’s right boy, we sure do live like kings"
The dog wolfed down his share and eyed skipper hopefully. His owner shrugged and left the remains of his meal on the floor for the dog. The ritual of mealtime over there only remained the post dinner nap.
Skipper lay back on the orange settee and drifted off – on his way to the Antarctic in seconds. He felt different in the dream –lighter with unbridled strength, in short younger.
Thud.
"What the hell!"
Thud, Thud.
"Jaysus, where is that sound coming from?"
Thud Thud Thump Thump and a piece of plaster fluttered down from the stained ceiling. Techno music from above announced that Teresa Kelly upstairs was working the late shift in the factory. While she was assembling catheters her twin sons were getting the decibel level up nice and high. Skipper knew better than to challenge them and Banjax was lying howling with his paws over his ears. Skipper checked his wallet and came up with 18 euros and some shrapnel.
"Enough to get us out of this mess old buddy and a day before pension day."
The two acoustic refugees strolled the short distance to McNamara’s fine hostelry on the corner and entered the stale atmosphere. At the bar under the Glasgow Celtic mirror sat Willy Burke from flat three above the Kelly twins. He spotted Skippers reflection and nodded to the adjoining stool. He cleared his throat and turned in the direction of the flats.
"Noisy bastard milatvians!"
Skipper said nothing and Willy took this as an invitation to continue.
"They come over here and steal our jobs and – "
He was interrupted by McNamara chuckling behind the bar.
"Sure Willy you never did a days work since 1965 and anyway the music is from the Kelly twins, God bless them"
"Its easy knowing everyone comes here to escape the noise and fills your till"
"You boys will fill no till sitting there nursing a pint for an hour at a time"
The two customers got their pints and feigned interest in the dog racing from Exeter on the television over the bar. They spotted Naoise a gaunt youth slipping in and scouting the place to see if the coast was clear for his boss (the Prom) to come in. He deferred to the old men as he walked up.
"Have youse seen the contractor in here today?"
" He was in looking for the Prom earlier and he was beside himself with rage" offered McNamara.
Naoise pulled a phone from his shirt and spoke into it.
"The badger has landed" he said and hung up. Seconds later the other party showed up in all his finery. The Prom was tall and stocky with silver curly hair and jeans that were losing a lifelong battle with gravity.
"Give us a quick pint of porter there Mac and keep an eye out for the other lad, he has me persecuted the humpy bugger."
MacNamara shot Skipper a look that reminded him that Contractor and The Prom had a lot of history. Only the building boom could persuade them to overlook the fact that Mrs Prom had very nearly become Mrs Contractor in the seventies. No love lost indeed.
"Bloody horrendous job out in Oranmore, tiling bathrooms in 17 new houses. Every one of them like Southfork with two showers and a sockwasher"
"It’s called a bidet"
"I don’t have to know what its called to tile it, do I? Anyway it’s all big mortgages and two jobs and Creches.Now that’s the business to be in I’m telling you"
"Yeah Prometheus O’Reilly Childminders and lounge Bar" howled Naoise.
Prom bought the old-timers the drink they were waiting on and enquired of news in his old neighbourhood.
"Them Kelly boys are as noisy as ever."
"Theresa’s lads, how could they be right with that for a father?"
"Always down the boozer he was"
Naoise snorted and headed for the toilet but glanced out the window on his way. He stared and hissed at the Prom.
"The Contractor is here!"
In an efficient manner the Prom shot out the back door to where Naoise had parked the van and in a cloud of diesel fumes they were gone.
Willy looked at Skipper over their pints.
"Now there goes a great man"
"You’re not wrong there"

posted by Colm Brady @ 10:21 PM