The Butcher Boy Read Online Free PDF Page A

her again.
     
    Ten men under him, I said to Joe.
    Joe whistled and sent a flat stone skimming down the river.
    Ten, he said, ten whole men. That's hard to beat Francie.
    There's going to be some party in our house that night Joe, says I.
    The Alo party says Joe.
    The party to end them all, I said.
    Whee-hoo! cried Joe and a big shower of spiky sunlight arrows coming through the gaps in the trees when you chinked your eyes.
     
    The nights before Alo came I didn't sleep a wink thinking about him. We'd be coming down the street and there'd be Nugent. She'd be mad for us to talk to her. Who's that woman Alo would say to me in his English accent, she keeps looking over. I don't know, I'd say, I never seen her before in my life. Then we'd walk on until she was a speck standing in Fermanagh Street. Then it started all over again with me and Alo on the Diamond getting ready to set off once more down the street and Mrs Nugent trying to attract our attention. Please Francie, I'll give you anything she'd say. Sorry I'd say, too late. Then I'd cut her off and say: What was that you were saying Uncle Alo?
     
    The town was quiet after the bars closed. All you could hear was Grouse Armstrong howling away.
    You know what he's saying when he does that says Joe.
    No, I says, what.
    How the fuck do I know I don't know dog language says Joe.
     
     
    I COULD HEAR VOICES. THERE WAS SOMEONE OUTSIDE THE HIDE. It was Buttsy from the mountains. Mrs Nugent was his sister. He was in a bad way poor old Buttsy. He looked like a priest on the cover of Africa magazine with his freckles and the carrot hair falling down over his eyes. Peepil please help me build my hospital. But all Buttsy cared about hospitals now was putting me into one. He kept shouting out: Brady! Then he'd light a fag and I could see his hand was shaking. Devlin kept saying to him: Don't worry Buttsy we'll find him he can't have gone far. He had a pain in his head I could tell from the way he kept rubbing over his eye. Soon says Devlin, we'll have him and we can do what we like with him. The whole town wants him to get what he deserves. If we get our hands on him before the police I know what we'll do with him, we'll drown him Buttsy what about that?, Devlin said. But Buttsy had more sense. He knew they were only wasting their time if they hadn't found me by now they weren't going to, them or the police. He just sat there by the river with his elbow on his knee and an inch of ash hanging from the fag. The bastard must have come out this way, Devlin said, poking about in the bushes with a stick. Hey Brady! he called again. It triple-echoed across the mountains. If you're in them woods Brady you better come out. But it was no use so in the end they just went back towards the town.
     
    When they were gone I came out and stuck my face into the river. Hey fish I said are you there? Yoo-hoo!
    Come out you bastards!
     
     
    THE CAKES WERE STACKED IN TOWERS ON THE CHAIRS. THERE were some on top of the wardrobe and the washing machine. There were ones with icing and without, all decorated with hundreds and thousands and marzipan and different kinds of designs. I had a hard job keeping all the flies away. I went at them with the rolled-up Irish Press. Back, dogs! I said. I had to make sure they didn't manage to land on the icing at all because if they did you couldn't hit them in case you'd break up the cake altogether. Would you like another slice of cake Francis? said ma from the scullery. I didn't. I had already had eight. I went off up the town and anybody I met I told them about Alo. Then I came back down again: Any sign of him yet? Whiz away off again. It was the best time in the town for a long while. The breadman skipped into the shop with a tray of fresh loaves wrapped in holly paper. Children tossed pebbles and watched them ping off the fountain's big white crocus of ice. Please give a little it could help a lot the radio said. When I got home ma was wearing white gloves of flour