Chapter 9: A Phone Call from the Emerald Isle
Just as Connor and I had each taken a healthy swig from the bottle, Murphy kicked the door open, his arms laden with bags and cases of beer. I helped him put them down as Murphy eyed the bottle sweetly.
"Started without me, eh? I walk all tha way ta tha fuckin store an ya can't even wait fer lil ol' Murph…." He grumbled as an empty beer can sailed past me and smacked him square in the face. I erupted into bouts of laughter as Murphy glared at his now snickering twin.
"Yer SO fuckin lucky yer hurt, I have half a mind ta put my boot up yer fuckin arse anyhow." Murphy said as Connor waved his hands in mock terror.
"Oh noooo. Macho Murph's been unleashed! Quick! Hide tha children an tha breakables! He's a madman!" He leered as I doubled over, wheezing from laughing so hard.
"Oh fuck off, tha both o'ya" Murph said, taking the bottle from Connor and taking a long mouthful before handing it to me. I drank more, and kept the rotation going.
"So have ya figured out a plan yet, Charlie fuckin Bronson? Or do ya have ta wait til tha next fuckin western comes on?" Murphy jeered, kicking his feet up on the rickety chairs. I repeated what I had said to Connor while he was away. He seemed just as concerned about it as I was.
"Tha's strange indeed. Wha if there's a rat somewhere?" He said, almost suspiciously.
"Wha d'ya mean like a crooked cop? Ya figure Smecker woulda caught tha one, right?" Connor asked, still unsure.
"But even if there is, who's he workin fer? It can't be anyone else but tha fuckin lowlife Italians!" I spoke with resentment as I thought of the Italians. Those thieving scum had stolen my Rocco from me and I was begging to even the odds. An eye for an eye, right?
"We've managed ta piss a lot of people off doin this bit of ours though, Deenie. Tha Russians're probably dyin ta their hands on us." Connor reasoned.
"Well, until yer walkin again, we're not doin shit about it, so…ya say we have a bit o' tha sauce in tha meantime boys?" I suggested mischievously as I tempted them with the bottle.
"Aye!" They agreed in unison, which they often did. It was strange how connected they could be. We drank in an easy silence, all of us sort of lost in our dream world, though, I had a feeling Murph was probably thinking about a million things at once. My mind started wandering to what our lives could have been like, had we not been chosen to do God's bidding. Maybe we'd be back in Ireland by now, living in some meager shack just down the lane from the boy's Ma and my own sweet, Aunt Fi. We'd probably have jobs on some farm out in the middle of the beautiful rolling green hills of the Emerald Isle. Who knows, maybe one of us would be married by now. I laughed to myself at the thought. Maybe we'd still be in the states, but we'd be different, I guessed. We'd be…happier, more carefree. We'd probably still be spending our days at the plant and our nights at McGinty's, being loud and rowdy and generally Irish. One thing was for sure….we'd still have our shaggy haired Italian. Just as a pang of blame hit me, I was jolted out of my thoughts by the ringing of our collective cell phone.
"Where tha fuck could it be now?" I said, searching under the various piles of trash and other odds and ends on the table. I found and opened it, curious to see who was on the other end.
"'Lo? Conner? Murphy? Aideen? Ye thur?" My heart leapt as I heard Ma's voice on the other end, slightly slurred. That was a usual thing though. I waved my hand at the boys to shush them.
"Ma MacManus! Hold on a minute." I put her on speakerphone as the boys hushed themselves.
"Ma?" Murphy said, still sipping from the bottle. Connor rapped him on the head and he passed it along.
"Me boys! An me Aideen! How're ye doin over there in tha 'orrible fuckin place?" She said with worry oozing out of her words.
"We're jus fine, Ma. Deenie's takin' care of us real good." Connor soothed her as best he could, flinching as he leaned forward to hear her. Murphy and I exchanged uneasy glances, we never really knew what to expect with her, but for me, that'd always been half the fun.
"Good! Lord knows I need someone sensible ta look aft ya. Though, she caused as much hell as tha both o'ye at times!" She half laughed, half coughed. "Aideen, Yer Aunty Fi's here. She wants ta say hullo." We heard the phone rustling, accompanied the flick of a cigarette lighter and Ma coughing like mad in the background.
"Deenie? Ye thur?" My aunt's voice came sweetly through the receiver.
"Ya Aunty, I'm here. How's Uncle Callum?" I asked, hoping he wasn't around too. Now, don't get me wrong, I loved my uncle, but that man could talk the teeth off a saw.
"Fit as a fiddle he is. Down at tha pubs, probably drinkin half tha ale they got and chasin most tha lasses, bless 'em. We miss ye, an tha boys. It's been almost 22 years, ye know." Her voice took a melancholy tone and my heart sank.
"I know Aunty. But we'll come an see ya soon, soon as we can make some decent money." I promised her. Murphy and Connor looked at me, trying to mask the sadness in their eyes. It was almost the anniversary of my parent's death.
"Alright dearie, Ma MacManus wants ta talk with her boys. I love ye Aideen Bidelia." I returned her love, smacking both of the boys as they snickered, once again at my middle name.
"Now boys, listen ta me now. Ye know I don't want ya scrappin. Specially when poor Deenie's stuck cleanin up yer fuckin mess. Ye hear yer Ma?" She lectured, stopping to sip out of a bottle herself, no doubt.
"Yes Ma." They chimed in unison.
"An remember," She continued, and we all sighed, knowing what was coming. "A man luvs his sweetheart tha most, his wife tha best…"
"An his Ma tha longest" The boys finished. And the conversation was over. I took a long draught out of the bottle and the boys stared at me, silently.
"Wha?" I said, as innocently as I could, but they knew me better than that.
"Y'alright, Deenie?" Connor said, a slight hint of sympathy in his voice.
"I'm alright, mo grá. It's jus a weird feelin is all." I said morosely.
"How'd they…ya know, die anyway? Ya never did tell us an Ma always yelled at us when we tried ta ask." Murphy inquired.
"C'mon Murph, this ain't tha time!" Connor started.
"t's alright Noccie, ya deserve ta know after all these years." I took a deep breath, trying to remember. I'd all but pushed it from my memory. "When I was 7 my parents were mugged comin home from some party in Cork. They stabbed 'em an car jacked 'em. From wha I heard, my Da was still alive when they left, but he wouldn't leave me Ma ta die alone, so stayed with her an they bled ta death on some back road." I explained, carefully watching their faces. I'd always hated the way people looked at me after I told them what happened. The way the pity would creep on to their faces like they'd smelled something foul. They'd smile at me sweetly, trying to tuck it back in, but it was always in their eyes after that. I'd always be "that poor orphan girl" sent to live with her Aunt and Uncle. "How tragic." "Such a shame." They'd always whisper, like I was too far away or too stupid to hear them. But the boys had never seen me like that. To them, I was just Aideen, nothing more, nothing less and I loved them greatly for it.
"Jesus Deenie, tha's fuckin horrible!" Connor said, reaching out and pulling me into him, gently kissing the top of my head. Murph just looked at me, not really sure what to say.
"Is tha why ya do this? I mean, is tha wha really drives ya?" He asked, finally.
"I hadn't thought about it like that, I suppose. Though, it probably has somethin ta do with it, subconsciously." I said, taking a sip of my beer as I reached for the cigarette pack in front of me. It was awkwardly quiet for a second, but as I looked up from lighting my smoke, Connor and Murphy were both staring at me, playful smiles fixed on their faces.
"Wha?" I asked, nervously. I wasn't sure what they had planned.
"Ya should know, Aideen Bidelia" Murph teased before him and Connor dissolved into fits of laughter. I smiled as I lunged at him, sending him sprawling to the floor and getting him into a headlock as Connor cheered me on.
