Unlikely Hero--6

The year is 1979. Garth Ahern is nine years old. His mother has been murdered.1

End of Chapter 52

In a building three blocks from where the two policemen consoled each other, Garth Ahern squatted on the floor in a sun-bright room. He concentrated on tossing his marbles in a bowl the woman provided.3

She was a fine sort, brown-haired, blue-eyed and nice to look at. She’d given him sweet tea and soda bread full of raisins with butter thickly plastered on. When he asked she brought him a second helping and he left his game to return to the seat beside her. “I can make it rain,” he said. 4

“Oh sure.” She smiled and mussed his hair. 5

“Really, I can. But I don’t need it to rain right now.” He filled his mouth with his treat and slurped loudly at his tea. How good this tea tasted. It wasn’t bitter like his ma’s. Everything tasted better, felt better, now that Leona was gone. 6

He’d been very angry when she’d locked him in and he couldn’t get out of the flat. The urge to break a window and escape had been strong, but the knowledge she’d beat him bloody kept the urge in check. One day, he’d do the hammering, he’d promised himself. Sure he’d punch the cow and pound her silly. 7

He had spent that whole day storming about the flat trying to figure a way out of his captivity that wouldn’t cause any real damage. Leona had taken special care so his usual exits were blocked. She’d left him only cold tongue, a bit of hard crust bread and the horrible tea. When it grew dark, he knew she wasn’t coming back until late, so he crawled in his bed still hungry and cursing her until he fell asleep. 8

The big policeman told him she died. Told him not to worry, others would see to him. He’d carried him out to his car, like he was a small babe. His ma was gone…she’d been mean to him once too often. Sure, but he’d felt like laughing out loud. He just knew the heroes had taken her away. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tell the policeman what he knew. The policemen were mean and might bring Leona back. 9

“I like it here.” He grinned at his new friend. “Can I tell you secrets?” 10

“Of course, lad. Will they be dark secrets?” 11

He thought it nice that when she moved her head, her hair didn’t fly in all directions, like his ma’s. Clean and neatly dressed, she reminded him of the sisters in hospital. Shyly he laid his head against her shoulder. “Real bad secrets,” he mumbled. “My mum’s not dead. She’s a witch and co’sorts with the Devil.” 12

“Garth, you shouldn’t say such things.” 13

“The Lord won’t strike me dead, cause it’s a truth.” He felt the woman shiver slightly. He patted her thigh and snuggled closer. “Father Reagan said, doing what she does, is c--c’sorting with the d-- devil.” He stuttered slightly as memory of the priest’s anger came back to him. “I told him, I did.” He forgot to add that the priest had smacked him in the face as he called him a sinner and the Devil’s own. 14

“Told ‘em how some nights I lay in my bed an hear her moanin’ and her own bed a creakin’ an a leapin’ like it’s about ta burst through the floor. Sure’n I hear other voices too. The devil’s yelpin’ when he puts the blocks ta her.” 15

“Stop it this instant!” She grabbed him and shook him. “You stop saying such evil things about your good mother.” 16

He pulled away, jumped up, and stood staring at her. She wasn’t nice to look at anymore. Her anger turned her face red so she was a witch too. “It’s a truth,” he mumbled as he backed away from her. “Plenty ’s the time I heard them English voices.” 17

The blush faded from her cheeks as she tried hard to smile. “Garth, you’re just a wee lad. You shouldn’t think about such things. And certainly you shouldn’t say such things. I’m sure when the good Father told you that.” She rubbed her forehead as if there was a pain inside. “He didn’t mean your mum was consorting with a devil, he meant, I’m certain, that your dreams were about evil, since that’s what they were, and you should pray for them to stop.” 18

“How do you stop dreams?” Such an idea made him laugh inside but he only smiled sadly. He wanted to finish his sweet tea. He wanted the taste of soda bread in his mouth. What did it matter if she didn’t believe him just so she was nice again?19

“You make yourself think about good and holy things. Like the beautiful Virgin Mary, Christ’s mother. When you say mean things about your ma, you know you make the Holy Mother cry and her tears cause the rain.” 20

Hog wash! What did she think he was, some tit--suckin’ ween. “Sure, I don’t want it to rain,” he said through a wide grin. 21

“And here I thought you were going to make it rain.” 22

“Only if I tell you lies. And I thought it was the angels weeping that made it rain.” 23

“Suppose the angels do their part. Now I’ve some grand news for you.” 24

Garth eyed her suspiciously, not at all certain her news would be so grand. Adults had a way of saying something was good for him, and it usually turned out bad. Like at hospital, the doc told him what a lucky boy he was, to have such a caring ma. Lucky, sure, lucky she didn’t cripple him. 25

The woman was obviously happy with her news. Her smiley face told him that. “Remember how Mr. McNeil said your daddy’s brother was coming all the way from America to meet you?” She was talking in a tone that made him want to giggle. She thought he was a nipper still wetting his nappies. 26

“Well, your uncle is here. He’s coming to see you shortly. Sure you’ll be a good lad, not say wicked things to him.” She winked as if they were co-conspirators. “We want Mr. Ahern to like you, to see you’re a fine boy with nice manners.” 27

“Can I finish my tea, ‘fore he gets here?” 28

“Of course. Now come sit here with me and I’ll tell you all about Mr. Ahern.” She patted the sofa. 29

Oh joy, she was going to spiel off again about this grand fellow who was coming on a big plane, across the wide ocean, just to meet him. The idea might have appealed, if he didn’t know better. If he didn’t know there wasn’t a person alive who gave a fag about him.30

He joined her, but his interest stayed on the soda bread and tea. He’d only just gotten the last crumb down, when the two men in their funeral colored suits entered. 31

“And here’s the lad, Mathew. A fine looking chap you’ll agree.” The jovial lawyer seemed bent on convincing the other man. 32

Garth fought a sudden urge to jump up and run out the door. What were they pulling? This couldn’t be his pa’s kin. Garth hated ginger-colored hair almost as much as he hated black hair. Didn’t that bully Tom Sprague have ginger hair? Sprague got his jollies off beating on smaller kids. He bruised Garth at least once a week until he fell from that bridge and…. Tommy's ma sure carried on. Would Leona squall like that if he died? 33

“Hello, Garth, I do hope we are going to be friends.” The man smiled widely and held out his hand in offering. “I’m sorry and ashamed we haven’t met before this.” 34

Garth forced himself to accept the handshake. “You look like my pa?” His question was more a demand. 35

The man showed surprise. “You don’t recall what your father looked like?” 36

“Never saw ‘em.” 37

“But surely you’ve seen pictures?” 38

“My ma burned ‘em ‘for I could remember.” 39

“Well, we will rectify that right now.” He reached in and pulled a wallet from his pants’ pocket. He took out a small worn print from the plastic sleeve and handed it to the boy. “Your dad’s the one in the middle.” 40

Garth studied the faces of the three grinning young men in the photo. They all had ginger-colored hair and a definite resemblance to each other. 41

His uncle said, “The one on the left was your uncle David. Had that taken in Dublin the morning I left. I might have aged a bit.” A grin again split his mouth. “You can keep that for now. I have a lot more pictures I’ll show you. Some when your dad was about your age. You look like him.” 42

Garth knew that much. Hadn’t his ma cursed the fact often enough? Carefully he placed the photo in his shirt pocket. He held his hand over it as if frightened the man might change his mind and take it back. “Suppose ya are my pa’s brother,” he mumbled. There was a lump in his throat and he suddenly felt like crying but he couldn’t let himself. 43

“We have to lay your mother to rest now, Garth. When that’s finished we’ll do some talking. I’ll tell you all about your dad.” 44