Chapter Four - Part One

Summary:

After dinner, Christopher joined the men downstairs, quickly grabbed his usual pint and filled it with whiskey and water. Patrick Keenan was already more drunk than the rest.

“I bet you didn’t get paid today either did you Christopher,” was his welcome to the beleaguered father.

Christopher shook his and took his normal spot next to the nectar infused monger. Already, the room reeked of abuse.

“Well don’t feel bad. I still have fourteen fish upstairs that will rot overnight. It was another losing day for me.”

The other three men in the room solemnly pitched their mugs above their heads and gulped down their final swaths of ale. One of them offered the jug of whiskey around and their mood quickly changed upward.

“And George over there couldn’t sell his crustaceans. Not a single one of them.”

Again, the men tipped their cups in mutual suffering before taking another swig.

And here is the rest of it.

“And David wasn’t even asked to stay on after lunch. It looks like he will be without a job starting tomorrow. Join us for a few drinks Christopher…we all need it.”

“You’re right Patrick. We all do.”

“Of course,” Patrick began to say with an unsubtle pick-me-up in his voice, “good old George brings us a bit entertainment tonight.”

“Not a word from you Patrick…if you know what’s good for you,” George replied.

“Oh,” exclaimed Patrick with a laugh, “Are you going to take me then? A little man such as you?”

George shook his fist at Patrick and the rest of the men laughed. But George could not help himself and eventually laughed with them.

“Go on then,” said David, “You’ve only told the story Michele. Don’t leave us hanging.”
Patrick sat back and refilled his glass with a smile on his face. He laughed to himself precipitously, took a gulp and turned to Christopher.

“You know how it rained today?”

The men nodded in acknowledgement except George, who glared at Patrick from across the room.

“And you know how slick the roads get around here when it rains, especially on the hills near the waterfront?”

They nodded again and George turned his back, choosing to stare a blank wall instead of Patrick’s slobbering lips.

“Well traffic was backed up on the flat road around town and George’s patience was apparently wearing thin from waiting for the mudders to return from the flats.”

“If they hadn’t been so late I could have sold the whole batch today,” George cried out.
“Maybe even avoided the rain altogether,” shouted Michele. This brought a roar of laughter.
“Of course the only way to into town other than the flat road is to go up the hills,” Patrick continued.

“Well that horse of George’s,” Patrick said before being interrupted by George.

“That horse is the fastest in the area. I know because I saw her run with my own eyes.”

“Well, it’s too bad that what you really needed was a strong horse or a mule, not a rabbit!”

Patrick was all over this story and George could not help but to laugh along with the rest. “Anyway, he tried running the horse and cart up the hill to avoid the traffic when half of the shipmen were trying to get down to the docks without sliding to the bottom. His horse was slipping everywhere and it seemed they were heading more downhill than they were uphill.”

“Not to mention all the traders were yelling at him to turn around so that they could get down the hill safely,” chimed in Michele.

“But does our George ever listen to them?” asked Patrick.

“Not on your life. I was here before they were. They should move for me,” George proclaimed earnestly, but only loud fits of laughter emerged from behind him.

“No, of course not. And so he kept right on going up the hill just as everyone else was coming down. Eventually, there were so many coming down that there was no where for George to go up. And so he had to stop.”

“They are all fools. I’m telling you I could have made it if they had just gotten out of the way!”

“Confronted with an army of angry traders trying to get to the ships before they set out for the night, George finally realized that there was no place else to go but back down the hill.”

“That sounds like the sensible thing to do,” David said.

“Of course, but have you ever known a fast horse that wanted to turn around on a steep and slippery hill with a heavy load behind it?” Patrick asked. “And I still haven’t heard of one yet. That horse refused to budge an inch.”

“It seems to me that the horse was smarter than the driver,” Christopher said.

“Well that wasn’t going to stop our dear old George. So instead of getting the horse to turn around, George unbuckled the cart so that he could bring it down himself.”

“At least that way the horse would have followed me!” George yelled.

“And follow it did, because just as soon as the final buckle came undone, the weight of the cart shot it straight back down the hill, through the crossway and SMACK, right into a pile of manure with George in tow the whole way down!”

The entire group erupted in hilarity, including George who had turned around to hear the finish.

“And the horse? You forgot the horse,” cried Michele.

“And when George had managed to throw the dung off his body so that he could see…there was the obedient horse standing like a dog waiting for its master to return home after a long day.”

“And so did you take the flat road instead George?” Christopher asked.

“I did. But not until the traffic cleared up. No one wanted to be near me after that incident.”

“I don’t blame them. I can’t imagine you smelled too good after that,” David said.

“Not a single sale today. Most will be bad by tomorrow I think. I might get a few off before noon.”

The men turned serious again and slowly drank to the bottom of their cups. Patrick passed around the water while Michele poured out the whiskey.

“This stuff would wake a corpse Patrick. Where did you get this?” David asked.

“Its good isn’t it? Came off a boat. Not sure which one. Nervous colored man offered it to me for trout.”

“You had trout?” George asked.

“Only one and it was bad. I don’t get that fresh water stuff very often. Takes a while to get here.”

“Not to break up the subject,” Christopher began, “But I think I saw the older boys acting kind of funny earlier when I came home.”

“What were they up to?” Michele asked. It was almost as though he expected to hear they were up to no good, but he asked out of curiosity anyway in much the same way one digs for gossip when bored.

“Well, I’m not really sure. I didn’t get a good look, but it looked as though they were hiding something under the building across the alley.”

“I've seen them too, acting funny. They don’t seem to be running around picking pockets and raising hell during the day anymore. If that is funny,” added David.

Patrick responded, “Well, I'm not so sure that acting like angels is such a bad thing considering their reputation. But it is suspicious. I even saw them behaving and acting curious around a policeman the other day.”

“Was the policeman having any of it?” asked Michele.

“Of course, they were acting like children who were curious about what it’s like to be a man of authority,” replied Patrick.

“Strange indeed. They must be up to something if they are acting this nicely,” proclaimed David.

“But what? And who’s going to find out? I haven’t the time to follow them around,” said Michele.

“Me neither, I still need to work. Money is short and I've got kids to feed,” Christopher replied and took another sip.

“I surely can't do it,” agreed George. “I have to get rid of them mussels before the day is through.”

David thought for a moment and then said, “I can do it. I’ll follow them tomorrow.”

“What for?” Patrick asked. “It’s not like they aren’t hurting anybody.”

“But I suspect that they are up something. Don’t you feel just a bit uneasy about this whole thing?”

The men nodded in agreement even if they were not surprised.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll start tomorrow morning until I find something.”

“But what about your job?” Patrick asked.

“What use does that make now? I haven’t been paid for weeks and I won't be again for another few weeks. I may as well try to do something else with my time.”

“And Lewis,” George asked, “what about him? Have you got enough to get by?”

David stood up and walked nervously across the room. He refused to make eye contact with any of his friends. Finally, in a despairing voice he said, “We are down to the end of our savings. I haven’t paid rent in a fortnight. I've got to find another way.”

His story was not a surprising one. Most of the buildings in Marnie were vacant except for when the homeless managed to break in to seek shelter on the worst weather nights. Very few had homes to stay in, and those who did were finding themselves even more likely to end up like the rest. No one wanted to beg, but once the shelter ran out, so did the possessions become lost, and the money became scarce. David was well on his way to becoming another beggar with a son to feed.

After a long silence, Patrick spoke up, “Well…if you find something, and it turns out to be bad. I mean really bad that these boys are up to. And you swear it will affect the lot of us, I’ll feed you from time to time.”

“Eh, me too,” agreed Michele.

“And me,” said George.

“And you can share a place with us from time to time. I’ll talk Penelope into it,” added Christopher.

“What are friends for?” sighed Patrick.