Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

‘What are you doing up there, lad?’ Gibsie asked on Friday afternoon when he found me down the field at the back of the house. It had been four days since the fire, since Shannon and her brothers’ world had collapsed and I’d never felt more helpless in my life. The sun was splitting the stones and I’d been out here since dawn broke and the crying re-started. Sick to death of social workers and the Gardaí, not to mention family friends and relatives, I kept my distance from the house. Nothing I said or did seemed to be helping matters anyway, so I decided to remove myself from the situation. Not far enough that I couldn’t come back if she needed me, but enough to give her some space with her family.

Besides, people had been calling to the house all day, every day since it happened, and if I had to hear the ‘you’re a hero, young man’ spiel one more time, I was going to lose my shit. I was no hero; I loved my girlfriend and I did what any other lad in my position would have done.

‘You’re afraid of heights, Johnny,’ Gibsie reminded me, like it was something I could easily forget. ‘And you’re up pretty high there, buddy.’

‘I’m revamping our old treehouse,’ I replied as I dangled from a branch of the old oak, with a hammer and nails in hand. ‘And I’m not afraid of heights,’ I bit out. ‘I’m warily cautious of anything that poses the threat of me plummeting to my death.’

‘Makes sense.’ With his hands on his hips, Gibsie stared up at me, expression thoughtful. ‘So, why are we revamping the fort?’

‘Because I need to do something,’ I explained. ‘And I can’t do anything in the house.’

‘You been to training today?’

‘Nope.’

‘The gym?’

‘Nope.’

He signed heavily. ‘Johnny…’

‘I need to do this, Gibs,’ I choked out, voice thick with emotion. I felt useless and it didn’t bode well with me. I couldn’t fix this for her and I couldn’t change what had happened. ‘I need to fix something.’

‘Then we’ll fix it,’ Gibsie replied simply. ‘I’ll call the lads.’

Within an hour, Hughie and Feely had arrived on one of Feely’s father’s tractors and trailers, drawing old boards and planks of timber. ‘Hope you don’t mind, Cap, but my Mam’s after pulling up with Claire and Lizzie,’ Hughie puffed as he hauled a tractor tire off the back of the trailer and rolled it over to the trunk of the tree. ‘They’re gone inside.’

‘Pity about Lizzie the viper,’ Gibsie grumbled, throwing some old boards off to the side. ‘I hope she’s in good spirits.’

I shrugged, not breaking my stride, as I ripped the flooring off the old treehouse and tossed the boards down to Gibsie. ‘Can’t hurt.’

After that, we all worked in silence. I didn’t think any of us wanted to be inside right now. I couldn’t leave her, but I couldn’t fix this, and the guilt I was feeling was drowning me. It was insurmountable and I was close to my breaking point. Throughout the afternoon and evening, Mam popped in and out with trays of sandwiches and flasks of tea, but none of us broke stride long enough to make small talk.

‘When’s the funeral?’ Feely asked after a couple of hours of working together in companionable silence.

‘After twelve o’ clock mass on Monday,’ I replied, feeling my chest squeeze tight at the thought. ‘They only got the bodies back this morning – with the post mortems they had to perform and all that shite.’

‘So, the rosary is tomorrow night, and the removal is on Sunday?’

I nodded stiffly. ‘It’s a closed funeral –obviously, it will be closed coffins, too.’

Feely sighed heavily. ‘Shit, lad.’

‘Yeah.’ Wiping my brow with my forearm, I exhaled a heavy sigh. ‘Throw me up a bottle of water, will ya?’ Locking my legs around the limb I was balancing on, I whipped off my t-shirt and tossed it away. ‘I’m bleeding melting up here.’

‘You’re not the only one sweating your tits off,’ Feely grumbled, throwing a bottle up to me. ‘I’m as a red as a lobster.’

I peered down at his bare shoulders and winced. ‘Ah, lad. You should put some cream on your shoulders.’

‘I did,’ he growled. ‘We don’t all tan like you, Cap.’

I glanced down at myself and shrugged. ‘I’m not that tanned.’

‘Yet,’ Feely countered. ‘Give it a week of this weather and you’ll look like you the spent the fecking summer in Oz.’

‘Ah now, don’t be jealous, Pa. You have a grand farmer’s tan,’ Gibsie offered. ‘Your arms are lovely.’

‘I am a farmer,’ Feely growled. ‘But thanks, Gibs. I appreciate the sentiment. Your arms are lovely, too.’

‘I’m lovely all over,’ Gibsie corrected, gesturing to his tanned chest. ‘I’m sallow skinned,’ he added with a wink. ‘The sun loves me.’

‘Good for you,’ Feely shot back huffily.

‘Someone needs to tell your mother to bring the Child of Prague statue back inside, Pa,’ Hughie puffed. ‘Tis hot enough and you won’t be doing hay until June.’

‘She’s superstitious,’ Feely said with a noncommittal shrug. ‘And they’re at silage this week, so she won’t be taking him out of the field for a while.’

‘Great,’ Hughie groaned. ‘We’ll just swelter so.’

‘You guys are so fucking weird,’ I chuckled. ‘You seriously believe putting a little, holy statue out in a field brings the good weather?’

‘You’re damn straight we do, city boy,’ Gibsie shot back. ‘It’s one-hundred percent effective. Same as when my nanny lights a candle for me before exams. It’s bulletproof.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Culchies.’

‘Hey – what about Joey?’ Hughie asked then. Covering his eyes from the sun, he looked up at me and asked, ‘What’s happening there?’

I leaned down and grabbed another board off Gibsie before dragging it up and laying it down on the beams of the treehouse. ‘The treatment place are sending some guys down to escort him after the service on Monday.’

‘Jesus,’ Hughie muttered, rubbing his jaw. ‘What the hell was he thinking getting mixed up with drugs?’

‘He was probably thinking his dad was a psycho prick who spent the best of his life beating the living shit out of him and he wanted an escape,’ Gibsie snapped, pulling his t-shirt out of the back of his jeans and using it to wipe his brow. ‘None of us know what he went through, Hugh, we haven’t been in his shoes, so don’t judge him.’

‘I’m not judging him,’ Hughie replied, holding his hands up. ‘I’m just sorry for him – for all of them. I remember when Shannon first started hanging around with Claire. He was so fucking prickly and protective of her. I could never figure it out. We didn’t go to the same primary school or anything, but we were the same age and I couldn’t understand why he cared so much about his little sister. I couldn’t fucking stand Claire when we were small, but Joey? He kept Shannon with him everywhere he went. Now I know why.’

‘How long will he be gone?’ Feely asked.

‘The summer,’ I replied, feeling numb to the bone as I hammered the board down. ‘It’s a ninety-day program, but it depends on how he copes. It might take longer. It might take less.’ Shrugging, I added, ‘He wants to do it.’

‘That’s good,’ Gibsie agreed, tone steady, as he passed me up another board to hammer down. ‘He’s only eighteen. He’s got as good a chance as any of beating it.’

‘And the rest of them?’ Feely asked. ‘What happens to Shannon and the younger ones?’

‘They’re staying here,’ I said. ‘Da pushed for an emergency hearing. Himself and Ma were approved temporary guardianship.’

‘And Darren was okay with that?’ Gibsie asked, looking confused.

‘Apparently, he supported it,’ I said wearily. ‘He’s still staying here.’

‘But he won’t stay forever, right?’ Gibsie asked. ‘He’ll go back to Belfast eventually?’

‘Who fucking knows anymore, lad.’ I shrugged, feeling stupid for not having the answers. ‘My folks said he can stay for as long as he wants.’Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

‘And Shannon?’ Feely asked. ‘How’s she doing?’

My shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘She’s a mess.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘Last I saw, she was with Joey,’ I mumbled. ‘They were holed up in one of the spare bedrooms together. They don’t leave each other’s side.’ I shook my head. ‘They’re like magnets.’

‘What about the others?’

‘I don’t know if Sean understands what’s happening, but Ollie and Tadhg are as good as you can expect given the fact that their father just burnt himself and their mother alive,’ I came right out and told them.

Feely flinched. ‘Jesus.’

‘I don’t even know what to say, lad,’ Hughie choked out. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Yeah? Well, me too.’ Turning my attention back to the treehouse, I hammered the last floor board into place. ‘I should have dragged her out of that house with me when I had the chance.’ Furious with myself and the whole damn world, I tossed the last of the nails down, and then I flung my hammer for good measure. ‘Her blood is on my hands. Those kids have no mother because I left her in that house. With him. I looked her in the eyes and I walked away. I left her to burn. It’s on me.’

‘No, it fucking is not!’ Gibsie snapped, climbing up the old rickety ladder to join me in the newly floored treehouse. ‘We’ve been through this – that kid was a walking explosion, Johnny! The entire house was rigged to go up in flames the minute that psycho freak sparked that match,’ he continued to rant. ‘You saved four lives, lad. Four innocent lives – five, including yourself. Don’t punish yourself, because you did more for that family than anyone else.’

‘I just feel so responsible,’ I choked out.

‘Oh, you will be responsible,’ Gibsie shot back, eyes narrowed. ‘For me throwing you off this fucking tree if I ever hear that shit come out of your mouth again.’

‘I just –’

‘You are not responsible!’

‘But I –’

‘Hughie, get me the hammer,’ Gibsie ordered. ‘I’m going to beat some sense into his big, stupid brain!’

‘It’s how I feel, lad,’ I snapped.

‘Then your feelings are all fucked up!’ Gibsie countered. ‘So, stop it!’

‘Stop it?’

‘Yes. Stop it,’ Gibsie growled. ‘Stop feeling like that. It’s dumb. It’s pointless. You’re making yourself miserable. You’re a fucking hero and if you don’t cop on and get a fucking handle on yourself, you’re going to be a dead hero because I’ll kill you, Johnny. You know I’ll do it!’

‘Uh, that’s probably not the best threat given the circumstances, Gibs,’ Hughie interjected.

‘I know what it’s like, Johnny,’ Gibsie barked. ‘I’ve been there, so I can tell you to stop. I have the right and the experience to tell you to get a fucking grip. You did what you could and you did a damn good job. Now enough. Stop torturing yourself. Dwelling won’t change what happened to her. All it’s going to change is what happens to you – present and future tenses.’

I stared across the treehouse at him for a long moment before a reluctant smile pulled at my lips. ‘You’d be a fucking terrible counsellor, Gibs.’

‘You’re smiling, aren’t ya?’ he shot back, giving me a lopsided grin.

‘Very true,’ Feely mused from the ground, hammer in hand. ‘Do you need this?’

‘That depends,’ Gibsie replied, keeping his eyes locked on mine. ‘Am I going to have to hammer some sense into you, Johnny?’

I shook my head in defeat. ‘No, you already did that, lad.’

‘Good.’ Gibsie nodded in approval. ‘And here’s another thing that’s going to happen. –’ Swinging down from a branch, he landed on his feet and stretched before turning back to look up at me. ‘We’re going to finish this treehouse. We’re going to make it the best fucking revamp imaginable and put a smile back on those boys’ faces. And then we’re going to train, because you are going to be ready for those Irish coaches tomorrow morning.’

‘Gibs.’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t go now –’

‘You are fucking going, Johnny Kavanagh,’ he said, cutting me off, ‘if I have to strap you to my back and take you there myself! This is your future, and you’re not throwing it away. No goddamn way in hell am I letting that happen.’

‘Jesus,’ I muttered, rubbing my jaw. ‘When did you get so bossy?’

Gibsie shrugged. ‘Sometimes Robin has to take the lead.’

‘Robin?’ Hughie laughed. ‘Did you seriously just refer to yourself as Robin?’

‘So, Cap’s Batman and you’re Robin?’ Feely mused. ‘Hmm. Makes sense.’

‘You’re so fucked in the head,’ Hughie snickered.

‘Could be worse,’ Gibsie shot back with a grin. ‘We could be like you two.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Hughie taunted. ‘And how’s that?’

‘Yeah,’ Gibsie agreed, smirking. ‘Bebop and Rocksteady.’

‘I’m not Bebop or Rocksteady!’ Hughie huffed, looking offended. ‘If I’m anything, I’m Robin!’

‘Uh-huh.’ Gibsie snickered. ‘And you say I’m fucked in the head? Yeah, okay, Bebop.’

‘That makes no sense,’ Hughie argued. ‘They’re from two completely different cartoons.’

‘Exactly,’ Gibsie drawled. ‘Just like we’re on two completely different levels.’ Grinning, he held his hand over his head and said, ‘I’m up here with your sister, and you’re –’ he dropped his hand to his waist. ‘all the way down here…’

‘Feely, give me the hammer,’ Hughie snarled as he stalked towards Gibsie. ‘I’m going bury this fucker, once and for all.’