In a very different beginning, there sat an awkward young professor from Lancashire drinking away his loneliness in a little Irish pub not far from the sea.

Chapter Two: Yellow Corduroys & A Taxicab Confessional

It was a dim pub.

Narrow too.

  The old oak bar was hand carved and stretched along the wall opposite the entrance. It's matching back framed a nearly 25 foot long mirror showcasing a remarkably large collection of bourbons, ryes, scotches & whiskies along its shelves and cupboards. In addition, a trove of obscure rums, gins, tequilas, liquors and even some impressive sakis could be found. What there was not, any bottle with any label that could be found elsewhere in Cork. Mr. O'Sullivan took tremendous pride in his unique collection of spirits accrued from around the world.

  Opposite the bar a dozen cocktail tables were strewn along a single cushioned pew stretching from the entrance to the bathrooms. There was scant enough room to walk between a patron on a barstool opposite one in a chair. Getting to the bathrooms was rarely awkward though as the bar was generally about as full as it was well lit.

  Rodney sat in the cushioned pew, 4th table down.

  It was 34 minutes after 8 on a rainy Sunday evening. ...September 20th if you're wondering.

  An invisible thread stretched from the creaky entrance door through an invisible hook in the mirror and back to both Rodney's eyes. 26 times in the last 34 minutes the door had creaked open tilting his gaze toward the mirror, 26 times he looked in the reflection knowing she'd not appear.

  35 past 8 on a Wednesday evening. A 27th creak, Rodney glances up to confirm, not her, just another drunk stepping out for a quick fag as another one reenters from one. Though Ireland wouldn't ban smoking in pubs for another 20 years Mr. O'Sullivan's policy firmly held that no one smoke in his bar, except him.

  Rodney took a sip of the warm, flat, extremely affordable piss er, um ... beer and thought about the damp flowers on the table. He thought about standing in the rain at the crosswalk waiting for the traffic to thin, thought about the dog he saw tied to a tree outside the market door. It's tail gave a little wag each time someone stepped through the market door. Then he thought about how the dog was still tied up, waiting in the rain several minutes later as Rodney himself stepped from the market.

  The pup's tail gave a little wag but stopped.

  It knew, Rodney was not it's beloved.

  Seems everyone knows that.

  *creeak, slam.* Rodney's eyes yanked up a 27th time mid-sip. He wondered, had he a tail, would it have wagged.

It was Jonathen. "sigh."

  "Harrell." said Jonathen.

  "Hrm.." Cold rainy nights in Cork were measured according to how they stood against Mr. Harrell O'Sullivan's general disposition.

  "Recommendation?" The cheeky American was rumored to have worn mustard yellow corduroys nearly every day since his unexplained arrival late last November. He donned an otherwise modern style for 1987. The touch of American eccentricity reminded some of Duckie from last year's Hughe's film but mostly around town it just provoked the occasional provocation. Jonathen seemed generally to think they were asking him for a cigarette which he rarely had.

  "Aye. Copy yer gapin' arse and stick it te yer face, may'e ten ye'll gee a date won'tch yea?" Harrell grinned and coughed violently (in place of any ability to laugh) making his face look like a rockslide. The old man set up a highball and turned around muttering to himself. Clinking a few bottles about he turned back and poured mostly a bit of this with just a splash of that into the sturdy glass. He retrieved and dropped 1 cube of perfectly clear ice into the drink. pushed it forward and told Jonathen he loved him, "'ow fuck as yea stupid shite." Smiling warmly Jonathen dropped a handful of 20p coins on the bar.

  "Newly minted." The subversive old bastard appreciated the anti-establishment gesture. "Oh … except for the '85's."

  "Oi!" Harrell exclaimed. The American grinned as he turned toward the sullenpuss sitting in the pew.

  "Gawwshucks, look at all these pertty flowers. These wouldn't happen to be for lil' ol' me now would they?" Rodney's eyes lifted a 28th time.

"Piss off."

  "Pfshkhaha. Geez, ok. Hey, how you doin ROT-ney? How's abou'chyoa spot me a few quid for the jukebox and we'll set this place on fi-Ahh?" At this Mr. O'Sullivan barked a death threat as the sullenpuss reiterated his initial position. "Boy, tough crowd here, eh? No respect geesh I get no respect." Rodney hated Jonathen's Dangerfield impersonation. Besides it being awful, he cracked himself up when no one else was laughing. Which was always. Rodney found Jonathen to not be that funny except to himself.

  "Excuse me Mr. Harrell sir, would you be so kind as to change my pound for the jukebox sir pleeease?" Harrell stared coldly. "Oh & Aoife sends her sillies." Had Rodney's gaze not been molding in the piss er, um … beer, he'd have seen an uncharacteristically radiantant smile break across the boulders in Mr. O'Sullivan's face.

  The bar's juke played 2 songs per pound, Harrell put down enough for 3. "Player one."

  "Awwgash, thanks Harrell. Ey, Rodney … first pick is yours. Wutch ya wanna hear?"

  "Not the Beatles." He muttered. "Or the eagles! I fuckin' hate the eagles."

  Jonathen's eyes closed for that moment it takes a jukebox to scroll through it's selection, pick out the single and spin it back to the turntable.

  His mind drifted back to a 3am from long ago.

  Driving along that fence on the long country road, heading to the Jersey shore to catch the sunrise. Like the reflection of a full moon frosting the tips of a rippling ocean's surface, his one working headlight cascades along the chain-link wire causing it to shimmer. Fence posts steadily appearing like tambourines on a baseline as he drives, windows open, song echoing through the empty fields. Hitting 70 he kills the headlight exposing innumerable dancing lightning bugs in all directions of the dark. Delicate twinkling notes spread randomly like glitter on the surface of sound, like stars dancing in the waves.  

  His lips begin to whisper "I have climbed, highest mountains. I have run through the fields …" A tear breaks his eyes back open. Emotions saboted by memory, Jonathen takes a quick sip of Harrell's concoction and coughs into his hand to wipe the tear away before turning back around.

  Buuut the sip in haste was a bit too much.

  "WhoaWhoWaHoly Hell Harrell … oh, whoa I … hooo never in all my years *cough* did I expect *gag* to *gag* taste such … such a blissful gasoline. *deep breath* Gee-Whiz & frickin' golly man. Dang." Sitting in the chair across from Rodney, "you ought to give that a go man, it'd put hair on your queen's chest."

  "How's he like you?" Ignoring the offer, Rodney's eyes now fixed on his friend.

  "Your beer is almost half full ya know … slow night?"

  "No seriously, how … how have you gotten that old Rockbiter to take such a shine to you?"

  "It's a boring story, honestly. I don't think you'd care to hear it." Jonathen takes another, much more delicate sip while staring up at the mounted t.v. "Whoa! Haha!! 15 isn't doing Meath any favors huh?" He exclaimed knowing full well Rodney wasn't watching the match.

  "Meath won. Cork's worthless." The tournament had taken place earlier in the day. Harrell is busy in the day so his granddaughter tapes them and leaves a copy in the VHS for when he comes in.

  "It's kind of amazing, isn't it? How many ways mankind has invented to play with a ball. I mean really, think about it. There's football and basketball and soccer and dodgeball and volleyball and..." Rodney took a sip of the gasoline as Jonathen droned on "Then, add a stick and whoowee, suddenly we got a stew on with field hockey, baseball, pool, snooker, stickball …"

  "Seriously, how'd you get the ol' bastard to let you call him by his first name?" Jonathen stared at Rodney.

  "Let it go."

  "No. You're botherin' me Jonathen. I didn't ask you to sit down, didn't ask you to try and cheer me up. But here you are doing … doing, that thing that you do where you go being all Mr. fuckin' charming man, Mr. nice guy man to everyone and just, no. No. Now just tell me or piss off."

  "Remember when we met?"

  "Or change the subject again." he says, taking another sip of his friend's drink.

  "No, seriously. Do you remember when we met?"

  "Ya. Over at Donnelly's. What of it?" Rodney finishes off the stiff drink and regrasps his own glass.

  "And you know Mr. O'Sullivan's granddaughter of course?"

  "Who, that whore Maggie? What about her?"

  "Aww Rodney, now why would you go and call her something like that?"

 "'Cause she is!" Even Rodney knew this was not a good answer. "I used to ask her to dinner, or a coffee or even just a walk home. She'd always turn me down on account 'my life is a mess' or 'things are complicated' or 'I'd love to but I just can't'. Then Niles, over at the bank, Niles tells me just the other week, he says she's always depositing checks from different men in her account. Whore. She should just tell a bloke when she's too good for him. Or when he's too poor for her."

  "Oooooh. That's why you're here with the flowers huh? She's been working Sunday nights lately and so," Rodney side eyed the flowers while Jonathen broke out laughing the kind of laugh you laugh when you don't quite believe the obvious, "you thought you'd bring some pretty face in here, sit her down across from you and what, show Maggie what she's missing out on? Show her how valuable you actually are huh?"

  "Oh fuck you Jonathen!" Rodney begins tipping the beer against his lips emotionally.

  "And she didn't even show did she? Even if she had, Maggie's not even here tonight so what … you're gonna sit here and have her grandfather get you sloppy drunk off that cloudy, cheap, recycled piss he calls beer?"

  Rodney slams the empty glass on the table and belches. "Forget it, if you're staying, I'm leaving."

  "Ha, oh no. Nope. I'm gonna tell you about Mr. O'Sullivan and me." Rodney stopped, wasn't sure what to make of this surprising new resolve. "It was back when I was still exploring Cork and I uh, I was down over by the Tivoli docks just walking around ya know? I noticed you, I remember because back then you had that same Jansport as me. I remember thinking you looked like my uncle and then you leaned over to tie your shoe. You were kinda far away but I thought I noticed something drop out of your pocket. So I walked over and that's actually where I found your picture."

  Rodney's eyes widened. He couldn't tell if he was feeling a bit more sober or a bit more drunk. Either way he was wishing he had another beer to sip on. "I hurried a bit to catch up to you but uh, but then you just stopped and stared down passed the edge of a warehouse for a few seconds. It seemed odd because at first it looked like you had spotted a pot of gold on the side but then you just kinda, you just walked away really quickly like the gold turned into snakes or something. When I caught up … " Rodney was looking away from Jonathen now, looking at the table, looking angry and defensive, looking at the bar, looking self loathsome and full of regret, looking in the mirror, looking naked before the world. "... when I caught up, I saw what you had been staring at."

  "I didn't know you saw me." He said shamefully at first, "But what the fuck was I supposed to do?! He was HUGE! It's not like you helped her, obviously!"

  "Huh?"

  "Well, we met a few hours later at the bakery didn't we? You weren't bloodied up, she wasn't with you like some hero saved her day. So don't act like you're any better than me you ..."

  "Rodney, whether or not you are able to help somebody means actually nothing. The value is in what it means to them when you try. And so ya, ya I tried." Rodney softened a bit under the yeast of shame. "And no, please don't sit there acting like you think I think I'm any better than you. What, what is that?"

  "Oh shut the fuck up." Rodney leaned in, elbows propping him up, finger pointing at the American's face. "He was, he was what, 250 … 350 pounds?? 6'4", 6'5"??? There is NO WAY you beat that monster off." Jonathen grinned but resisted the urge for a joke … Rodney heard the gaff and withered once more back to his more pathetic posture.

Jonathen continued telling the story ….

  "Hey! HEY WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!!" Jonathen yelled as he ran toward the massive brute of a man who was fighting over a purse with a woman nearly half his size. "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU, YOU MANGO TURD!!!" She struggled to keep her purse, yelling for help while cursing the man. A bit bewildered by the unusual insult though they both turned to see the odd American awkwardly sprinting toward them. She couldn't help but wonder if a rescue attempt was about to be made by that bass player she had seen on MTV last week … the one from that band with the weird name that had that song she couldn't get out of her head.

  "Mind your own bloody business poof or I'll beat you to ...!" Maggie stomped on the ogre's foot. Reflexively the man slapped her across the face sending her tumbling to the ground just as Jonathen ran up. The man balled his cinderblock of a fist and hurled it toward Jonathen's face with nearly the 300 pounds of force in his body behind it. Jonathen stepped aside. The man connected with the brick wall of the warehouse snapping what sounded like most of the bones in his right hand. Face immediately flush red, the giant mango turd took another swing with his left hand but fell off balance and smacked his head onto a nearby dumpster knocking him out cold.

  "You're shitting me?" Rodney interrupted.

  "You wanted to know. Don't interrupt, it's rude…"

  Jonathen helped the woman up who retrieved her bag from the bandits grip. "Ponce!" She said giving a swift kick to his face. Jonathen was impressed by the Irish flair. "Oh my god thank you, thank you, thank you soo much!!! I can't believe it! Thank you!"

  "Nawwww, it's all gravy. Just doin' for a lass what any boy would do."

  "Ha. You know, 3 other men walked by." She said catching her breath and adjusting her outfit. "Maybe you're right though, maybe these days it takes a boy to stand up to a man. Hey … I um, I don't mean to … well, it's just … are you by chance …"

  "The bass player from Kajagoogoo?"

  "YES?!"

  "No." He smiled warmly, "I get that a lot though. Just as I'm sure people mistake you for Clodagh Rogers huh?"

  "Ha! You're sweet but possibly a bit dim." She smiled warmly, "She's a blond." Despite Maggie's ginger hair she did bear a strong resemblance to the Irish singer. "I'm impressed you know her though. Listen um …"

  "Jonathen."

  "Very nice to meet you Jonathen, I'm Maggie. Thank you so much for helping. I uh, I can't believe he, well … wow. This's a story no one's gonna believe." They both stared at the giant sleeping baby, "He looks kinda sweet like that, a little bit like Baby Huey." Then glancing at her watch, "OH! Oh Jonathen I am so sorry. I'm late to pick up my daughter. Thank you again."

  "Oh please, my pleasure. First week in Ireland and I already have a great story."

  "Oh no, that's terrible! This is your first week in Ireland?"

  "Ya. Well, no. I was here when I was a kid but it's been a really long time."

  "Listen," she pulled a piece of paper and pen from her purse "Turn around." He did and she pushed him forward so as to use it as a quick desk, "Find Shandon St, there's a bakery. Find it and ask for Declan. Give him this note and tell him you want 3 Skulls." She ripped the paper and stuffed the first piece in his pocket before resuming, "Take them to this bar and ask for Harrell …"

  "Harrell?"

  "Ay, Harrell. Er, well … you say Harold but ay, Harrell. Give him the loaves and this note." Jonathen felt the pen finish its work followed by her hand stuffing it in a separate pocket. "Do it today ok? Dinner's on me tonight."

  "What if I've got things to do?"

  "It's almost noon and it's your first week in Cork, if you'd had things to do you'd already be late." Maggie began running off then stopped, turned and ran back like she was going to give him a kiss, "ARESEHOLE!" She instead kicked the brute in the ribs one last time then turned and disappeared. The words "THANK YOU AGAIN" echoing in her wake.

A grave groaning mustered up at Jonathen's feet.

  "Awwwww, oi … OOWWWWW!"

  "Oh shush ya big baby. Come here."

  "OI! WHAT THE'ELL YOU THINK YER DOIN POOF!"

  "Helping you up Ponce." Jonathen bent over and began struggling to jostle the ogre upright.

  "Bugger off." The man's meaty arm swatted up, not violently but in a feeble attempt to discourage Jonathen. This must have shaken his brain awake enough to feel the overwhelming surges of pain eminating from both hands, his ribs and face, his forehead and the shred of dignity now lost.

  "Oh stop. Come on, don't be such a wimp."

  "Wait, you helped him?!" Rodney exclaimed, "why did you … did you call the … but wait you …"

  "Stop interrupting, it's rude. But yes, of course I helped him. He was really banged up. Turns out the oversized gorilla had just fallen on some hard times. Quite a nice guy actually, just made some really bad choices and turned up a bit desperate. I think you'd like him."

  "You're insane. I mean it. I've always known you weren't right but you're bloody crazy."

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  "I'm crazy? Well, better crazy than a cowardice bastard." Jonathen's tone began to shift.

  "Oi?!" But before he could fully object, Jonathen's voice shifted into a tone Rodney had not thought possible of him.

  "Hey! Why did you walk by? Were you afraid you'd get hurt or did you recognize her and walk off because you think she rejected you." He stared at Rodney who turned a lighter shade of pale which is impressive considering he's an alcoholic British scholar teaching in Cork Ireland. For a moment he had become so incensed by Jonathen's compassion he completely forgot what a cowardly bastard this whole situation showed him to be. "After I left Tadgh at the hospital I took a cab back across the river, found Donnely's where I again recognized your Jansport, gave you back your picture and 9 months later here we are."

  "So you saved his granddaughter and that's why he lets you call him by his first name. Well wooptydoo and good for you."

  "Not exactly, there's more to the story but I told you you didn't want to hear it in the first place. Now that you've written your own ending I suppose I don't need to tell you the rest."

"Smug arsehole."

"Sassenach bosthoon."

  "... I hate you." Rodney's woozy body shuffled itself up and began a drunken shimmy around the tiny drink table, passed Jonathen and began to stagger off toward the bathroom in back. "Mmmble erien deas ta toffen sprouse." There were many gaelic phrases Jonathen had gotten used to over his year in Cork but this, he was sure, was just wasted drunken babble.

Jonathen counted to 5, stood up and walked into the bathroom. Rodney had just sat on the toilet.

  "Aoife."

  "Oh what the hell, can't I even take a …"

  "Maggie's 9 year old daughter's name is Aoife. The men whose checks she deposits are Aiofe's dad's 3 brothers, Father & Uncle. He died before she was born and they've done what they could to help take care of Maggie and the girl ever since. She's meant what she's said to you. She's told me many times how much she wished you didn't hate her, how much she wished she had taken you up on the offers. She's told me several times …"

   "I didn't know she had a daughter."

  "Ya, you didn't. Prick."

  "Why didn't she ever tell me?" His sad, drunken voice creeped out from behind the stall door.

  "Because Rodney, in the what, nearly 3 years you had been ogling her you never once asked her anything meaningful."

  "That's not true!"

  "Then HOW, how did you not know she had a daughter? How could you ever have found reason … I mean, you just sit here calling her a whore? You called HER a whore meanwhile you were trying to use some poor woman, unconcerned with her feelings, in some twisted ruse to hurt Maggie's feelings."

  "My ruse…?"

  "Ya, your ruse. Your cunning attempt to trick …"

  "Oh shut it Jonathen! I know, there's nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others but can you please back off the psycho analysis for one bloody night?! And besides, besides I thought ..."

  "The fact is Maggie, despite being utterly and ridiculously into you, knows damn well you didn't want anything real." Rodney began to protest again but Jonathen continued talking over him …"She knew as soon as you found out she had a daughter you'd run away like the cowardice bastard you are instead of risking anything of yourself for her." Rodney's open mouth went slack. It's mind numbing what can sometimes be said in a moment or two of silence.

  "She couldn't know that."

  "Oh I promise you sir, women in general but especially those like her will ALWAYS understand us better than we will EVER understand ourselves. Much less understand them."

  "Sexist much?" Rodney mumbled quasi sarcastically.

  "Oh stop man, just stop deflecting Mr. Double PHD in Philosophy & Physics man. Mr. I know everything in the universe man. I mean, doesn't it ever get old being Mr. big, all knowing, universe man? Just try, for once, just try downsizing and joining us person people. Diminish that universe man ego to maybe even like a particle man one. Maybe you'd stop feeling like this totally worthless, depressed mess living in the garbage can of your own self defeat."

  "Wait, are you quoting…"

  "Never mind. Just go hide behind … you know what … never mind. Just hide behind that stall door until you're done pretending to crap then go drink some more until you're piss drunk and meander home mumbling about how I, her and whoever is your problem. I'll see ya around."

The door slammed shut.

  About 10 minutes later or so, Rodney emerged fumbling for his wallet.

  Unable to look Mr. O'Sullivan in the eyes he quietly muttered "one more please" and slid a bill across the bar.

  Harrell poured another like nothing happened. "Fuckass paid yer tab fer'ta nigh." Rodney shuttered as from the jukebox Aretha sang softly about a prayer.

  "Keep it."

  The young professor sat down and continued drinking until all damage he could do to himself had been done twice over. Struggling to stand, unable to walk straight Harrell helped him out the pub and into a taxi parked out front. Misunderstanding the nicety as an invitation into the first name club, Rodney thanked Harrell who was happy to correct the misunderstanding with a right hook to the side of his head. "It's Mr. O'Sullivan!"

  Massaging his jaw as the taxi took off, the ringing in his ears subsided giving way to the trite lyrics "...lighten up, while you still can, don't even try to understand, just find a place…" "Oh you gotta be kidding me." he muttered, "Sir, oi sir, can you please change the music?"

  "What, you don't like my tape?"

  "Man, come on. I had a rough night and I fucking hate the eagles man." The cabbie laughed and said something that sounded like 'he said you'd say that' which Rodney didn't think twice on. A series of clicks and clacks as the cabbie changed the tape, "HELP!" the harmonies of John, Paul, George & Ringo cried out for "I need somebody, HELP". Rodney shook his aching head in disbelief, "I hate the beatles." he muttered.

  "Hahaha, Jonathen said you'd say that too." The cabbie bellowed.

  "Wait, what, are you serious? He sent you did he? And what … told you to play the eagles and The Beatles just to get a rise out of me?"

  "Yup." He replied smugly. Rodney spent the remainder of the ride muttering to himself. His volume got a bit louder as the 1 man debate surged. A coward or a bastard but certainly not a cowardice bastard. He decided better one than both and perhaps he could regain a shred of self worth by proving to himself that he, Rodney Oscar Davies may be a bastard but was at least no coward.

  "I'm no coward!" he audibly announced to himself

  "Heyy, good for you. How about a fish biscuit?" the cabbie chuckled.

  "I'm no coward! Oi, cabbie … there's a cottage north of here, Blarney, Dawstown Blarney. Drop me there would ya!" The taxi stopped.

  "He said you'd want to talk to him." Rodney looked out the window in disbelief. Sure enough, there was Jonathen's weird little cottage.

  "How did he know …" he whispered. Rodney's eyes adjusted painfully as the driver unexpectedly flicked the light on. A behemoth of a man turned to face him. "SHIT!" In the back of his mind he thought 'huh, Maggie was right. He does sorta look like Baby Huey'. "You're uh … wait, aren't you .."

  "Hi, I'm Tadhg."

  "Ya, I know who you are."

  "Oh. Wel uhl, you probably know then that um, that I met Jonathen at a pretty low point in my life."

  "Ya I heard something about that. Something about you bullying a woman … a single mother half your size, slapping her around for what was it, a purse?" His throat gagged a little on it's own self righteous incriminations knowing it had no place to speak.

  "Ha, ya. That."

  "You think that's funny?" Amazing isn't it, the self sustainability of self righteousness.

  "Ya actually, I do. I may have gotten a slap in but Maggie nearly dislocated my jaw, gave me a concussion, bruised two ribs and broke my pinky toe. Not to mention the fractured wrist and broken fingers I gave myself trying to mug her. So ya, it's kinda funny that it turned out a fair fight and I got what I deserved. But I'll tell you what you self righteous little punk..." Rodney reached for the car door muttering some indiscretions but before he could open it, they locked "Oi, you haven't paid for this ride, thanked me for changing the music … you never even told me where to go until we arrived. So now you're gonna sit still and listen to what I have to say because I don't think you've half the fight in you Maggie's got and you clearly aren't any friend to Jonathen that he must be to you." Rodney's throat gagged again, he turned even whiter and wide eyed, astonished and terrified by this stranger than fiction confrontation. "What I did to sweet lil' Maggie that day is unforgivable ya but know what, she's forgiven me! So who the fuck are you pretending to be? But I'll tell ya yes, I am a monster. I'm more a monster than you could possibly know! There's things I can't undo, things I can't be forgiven for. Lives I've ruined I won't ever forgive myself for. There are measures of pain... I am responsible for so much loneliness you can't even conceive young man. I have hurt the only woman who ever looked at me, ever cherished me. I have broken my children, the only good choices I have ever made I have ruined, I've made them hate me. Irrevocably. And they should hate me. You think I'm a monster for trying to rob Maggie? HA! That's nothing… NOTHING!" Rigamortis set into Rodney's body as he sunk into the seat, "Nothing sir, compared to what I'm guilty of. You have no idea man, no fucking clue what a monster I actually am. So before you judge me so quick, like you know everything of anything, let me give you all you need to know about me because you know NOTHING!"

Again, Rodney's body pressed into the seat.

   He described his wife in her unparalleled grace, how with a single touch she could make him forget his circus freak like size the rest of the world just gawked at. His kids, how he was a hero to them, a fortress of security and love. Even Chuck, the border terrier who had been around since before any of them were born.

   Tadhg told how a new job and some harmless after shift customs of the staff awoke in him a lurking foe. He explained that what started as an occasional after work leisure turned into extra weekend money. Tadhg described his poker ability and the warm renowned around the workplace it gave him. He then confessed this hobby eventually escalated into a private pursuit. An extracurricular activity. A fun interest. A little secret.

  What started in the break room after shift eventually took him to a bar he knew about. Eventually he checked out a game in a garage his cousin told him about. He went into the backroom of a shoe store that proved to be more than a rumor. And so it was, his innocent little hobby became a lifestyle.

  He enjoyed spending the extra money on his beloved family and at first felt no wrong telling his wife not to worry, that driving the taxi had been paying really well and they could afford the extra spending. He did feel a little bad when she confronted him on all the time he had begun being away. She thought maybe there was another woman. He swore he had just been working over time and she believed him.

  He felt worse though when he began to miss important events … like birthdays.

  But there was no describing the loathsome, grueling pain, Tadhg had no way of imparting to Rodney how monstrous he really was to himself. When it came time to explain how this hobby turned obsession then turned into a rapid spiral downward into debt.

The lies manufactured.

The mistakes that seemed to occur over and over.

The strategies of "just this one more time" gone wrong.

   Then, the truth exposing itself in letters, in phone calls and eventually in strangers with trucks showing up to the house on weekday afternoons repossessing their possesions.

  The tears.

  Yelling.

  There was pleading. There was so much pleading.

  His innocent hobby took everything away from his children. Their toys and furniture, eventually their home and with having to move, their friends, communities and lives as they knew it. They even had to give up the scrappy border terrier Chuck before moving into a 1 bedroom flat.

  But worse than all he traded for his gambling was what he destroyed in his wife. What he took from her.

  How lonely she had become in the abandonment Tadhg swore to her wasn't real, he swore was simply her over reacting, being emotional and vindictive. How broken her grace became enduring the constant cycle of renewing her faith in him only to again realize what a fool she was. She struggled for years to hold on to the man she loved so dearly despite he himself abandoning that man to be of such lesser form. All that was good and beautiful became corrupted while she clung to a husband who chose to become the monster he swore he was not.

  Tadhg's voice remained heavy, low and steady. His eyes blinked but never broke from Rodney's. Rodney wanted to look away from the streams of tears coldly flowing against Tadhg's face but was too terrified to move any muscle, especially his eyes.

  "When Jonathen found me … I was just trying to get enough money to just, I knew where to get a cheap gun. I could make it really easy I figured, on everyone. If I just … I just need a few pounds. And so then, there was Maggie. Sweet Maggie. And I thought, what's one last deed of a monster if it means erasing the monster once and for all. But, well … I guess you know how that turned out.

  So when I woke up and saw that weird looking, awkward American bent over me I just wanted to roll off the docks and drown. Would have too had he not hoisted me up. He put my arm over his shoulder and began to hobble with me. Now, I'm telling you sir, I'm telling you that this, this lunacy act of kindness, it meant more to me than I can still figure out. That doesn't even make sense I know but I am, I am still figuring out how that moment is still changing me.

  Ya know, I protested at first but he … well, if you know him then you know how he just talks passed you sometimes." Rodney snorted a bit, his rigamortis began to relax, slightly. "So, ya. He helps me get my bearings and insists on walking to the hospital with me. I was in uh … I was in bad shape. All I wanted to do was get rid of him so I could go back to the docks and … well, what's important is that he gets me to open up on the walk. As we went along I found myself telling him the same story I just told you. It was the first time I was just honest with anyone about it all. Totally just honest. Then I tell him ... Oh, right. I forgot to mention that the night before I met him I had lost my taxi in a backroom game. To make it worse, I still owed 3,000 pounds on it. So I'm telling him all this as we're walking. More and more I keep trying to ask him about himself but he just kept bringing it back to me, to my story. So, I just kept unloading.

  Now this, this … what I'm about to tell you is movie stuff. This is what no one would believe. You'll probably not believe me except, seems you know him so, maybe you will. You see, while I was at the hospital he left. I figured I'd not see him again but just as I was leaving he comes strolling back up to me. He convinces me to take him to the backroom I lost my pink slip at. He spots me 100 pounds and asks to watch me play.

  Not for nothing but when I walked in with him it took some explaining. I suddenly realized how odd this was. I was all banged up and bandaged with some sissy lookin' lad in tow, some of Cork's most unsavory staring at me each telling themselves a different story none of which could be good. This was not a comfortable place to bring someone like him, especially in the shape I was in. But … ey, what'd you say your name is again?"

  Rodney choked, his dry throat pushed out some air. "Rodney."

  "Huh?" Rodney coughed

  "Rodney." Tadhg laughed. He then laughed really hard as though a joke just made sense. His brutish arm wiped the tears from his face.

  "Oh, oh right. Well Rodney, very nice to officially meet you. Jonathen talks about you a lot and um, so does Maggie actually. I'm Tadhg." He offers his hand over the back of seat which Rodney thinks looks too much like a porterhouse.

  "Right, um. Nice to meet you too."

  "Buy ya, so Rodney I'm telling you, these blokes I'd never seen smile 'cept to bluff or blow pride, who I thought might just kill us for walking in, these thugs that open beer bottles with their eyes and take lives with their stairs … in 15 minutes flat they were rallying about Jonathen like he was Mick fuckin' Jagger. I mean he had them howling at jokes, engrossed in stories. At one point he disappeared to the bathroom but found the kitchen and came back with snacks. It was just … it was unreal. They loved him. I didn't even know these sorts knew love but there it was.

  In addition I was on a hot streak. I had more than tripled his 100 pounds and that's when it all got really unbelievable. He leaned over me and, ok Rodney, listen to me. I am still figuring out how this all happened so listen up because you are the only person I have ever told this to, ok? He just leaned in and whispered to my ear "let me have your seat."

  Tadhg took a bite of an Oreo. Rodney wondered where the Oreo suddenly came from. He also suddenly wondered what a fish biscuit was. Nonetheless, he sat expectant. Waiting. For several moments. "Well?! What happened???" Tadhg smiled and swallowed the rest of the Oreo.

  "I was up almost 400 pounds. So, I protested of course. I told him I was on a hot streak, that it would be crazy to stop. That he'd not have fun and besides, these guys would turn on him the moment he sat down. I explained that they'd change, that they were only being so open to him because his money wasn't on the table. I pleaded for him to understand that this seemed fun but that it was much harder than it looked and that I really, really needed this money. I insisted he understand. It was dangerous for him to sit, I needed the money, he was having fun anyway so why bother and besides … just, no. No."

  "Ha. HA! Well done mate."

  "Ya except, as all of those things were um, it was like they were all trying to get out of my mouth. All of those things at once. But it was like some huge automobile accident, cars piled up, honking and yelling but nothing moving. Then, above it all two letters just fell out of my mouth. 'Ok.' I got up. He sat down. He took my place." Another several moments went by.

  "Man, you gotta stop with the pauses." 

  "I just still can't believe what happened next. I know how crazy I sound it's just ..."

  "What?!"

  "He won."

  "He what?"

  "He won. He won it all, everything. He won so much in just an hour and then … listen Rodney, he just stands up walks over to Nicoli and.."

  "Wait who's Nicoli?"

  "Oh, sorry, it's his back room, his table. So he just walks over to Nicoli and says something quietly in his ear like he had mine. Nicoli stared ice into Jonathen, looked at me almost in hatred then back at Jonathen in what I guess was disbelief. So I thought it was over, that this was it. We were both dead. I thought Jonathen admitted to cheating or over ingratiated himself or explained what I had done earlier or ... I didn't know what the American said but I was terrified. Nicoli disappeared and reappeared a minute later handing Jonathen an envelope." Tadhg laughs in disbelief, "Nicoli hands Jonathen an envelope with my pink slip and the keys in it."

  "Shut up."

  "Yup. Jonathen left the money on the table which was WAY more than I had lost the night before. I asked him what the hell just happened. He told Nicoli he had a fun night. He said he was going to take his initial 100 pounds back but Nicoli & the boys could keep the rest. When I asked him what he whispered in Nicoli's ear to get my taxi back he just smiled, gave me the envelope and we left."

  "You left??"

  "Well, actually it took a little bit of time. Everyone loved him, he's very funny you know. His impersonations are spot on." Rodney grimmiced, "But so ya, we left. I gave him a ride home. Back here. We chatted a bit, right here. Just like this. He paid me for the ride and tipped too, I tried to refuse but he insisted. Just as he has done every ride for the last 9 months. He told me, sitting here that all he might want in return is a favor someday. That was it, just a favor in case he needed a hand around the cottage. So tonight when he called me, almost a year later and asked for a favor I felt like I hit the jackpot. Ha. Imagine that eh? Feeling lucky to repay a favor. All he wanted though was for me to sit in front of the pub and wait for a bloke looking like you, probably getting helped out by Mr. O'Sullivan. He told me to have the tapes ready and to just drive here. But then he asked that I be ready. I asked him what for and he said it didn' matter, he just said that I might have to talk to you. The funny thing was, all the way up to this spot I was driving wondering if I was too stupid to know what to say. I was afraid I was letting him down. Funny right? I had nothing to say, couldn't think of a single thing. I almost tried talking to you a few times but, well … you seem like a prick. So, I just kept thinking of what he wanted me to say. Glad I didn't force anything though because as soon as I heard you mumble 'how'd he know' I knew … I knew I had to tell you what he told me that night."

  "Holy hell, ok the story was good and had some keen twists and surprises but yes I get it, Jonathen is the greatest thing since waffles. Can I go now?" This reaction was surprising to Rodney, he didn't realize that in the last few seconds he had gotten very agitated for no apparent reason. The doors clicked unlocked.

  "I asked him how long he had been playing poker, where he learned. He told me he knew the game but had never played it before. I asked him how he did so well and he told me … Jonathen said 'I've always liked watching people. We're beautiful' he said, 'Complicated as everything but simple, just looking for connection.' he said 'Poker isn't hard, it's just a game people use to connect like everything else we do.' That didn't answer my question but, it did. He knows people Rodney, unlike anything I've ever seen. The frustrating little turd just knows how to read people. And for some reason, he likes what he reads in you." Rodney got out of the taxi.

  "Thanks for the ride and the story." He unintentionally slammed the cab door behind him. A few steps off, feeling horribly rude he said over his shoulder, "Hey so, I walked by you and Maggie. That day, just before he found you I uh, I thought I couldn't help … I didn't want to help. I'm sorry that uh, … um, I'm glad Jonathen found you both. I hope you're able to make things right with your family Tadhg."

  "Thanks Rodney. Oh and hey, one last thing?"

  "Ya?"

  "Lester Bangs wrote 'the only currency left in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone when you're uncool'. There's nothing wrong with being a person man, we all have to be at some point, ya know? Remember that the next time you see that Maggie girl. She talks about you like she can see past the prick. That's special, maybe she's got grace for you. Don't fuck it up."

  Rodney was starting to wonder how tight Jonathen, Maggie & Tadhg had gotten over the year. He wondered how he had missed this trio ever bonding. He wondered what level of illusionary contempt he constructed to make himself so blind.

  He wondered if that dog was actually tied to the tree in the first place or if it hadn't just tricked itself into believing someone left him in the rain.

  "Ya. Thanks."

  Rodney stepped through the gate down the tiny path and, sighing, pushed through the open door.

  The cottage smelled sublime, supremely delicious. So tantalizing were the aromas Rodney's stomach gurgled in severe hunger. His throat gagged and rippled and began to prepare for a great exodus. The stab of hunger triggered mushroom clouds of nausea that almost immediately exploded sending him dashing for the bathroom.

  Several minutes later he emerged finding Jonathen playing Zelda on the couch.

  "I made you a cheesesteak."

  "A what'steak?"

  "It's a sandwich from around where I grew up. I can't make it as good as they do in Philly but such is the terroir of the Schuylkill."

  "What's with the ashtray?" The living room was small but cozy. Just big enough for a couch, tv, a small bookshelf and an odd variety of flea market finds. There was a small table with 3 chairs by the window and kitchen. On it was a plate with what looked like a large baguette wrapped in foil by a chessboard, a book and a few potted plants. On the coffee table in front of Jonathen were some magazines, a sketchbook and journal, an ashtray with a single cigarette and a few nicknacks. "You don't smoke."

  "Not cigarettes." Jonathen's eyes were focused on getting Link to catch the frustrating little life rejuvenating fairy. Rodney's eyes focused around the ashtray as he realized that among that absurdly delicious smells in the air lingered the pungent aroma of a freshly rolled jazz cigarette.

  "Well that explains a lot."

  "Go on, it'll settle your stomach and make your sandwich taste even tastier." Rodney admired the immaculate cone Jonathen had rolled. "It's strong, watch out." Sure enough Rodney lit, puffed and coughed heavy and by the third hit found himself gently stamping it out.

  "So Tadhg's, interesting."

  "I thought you'd like him." Rodney awkwardly lingered like a reed swaying in the breeze. "Sit down, eat your sandwich before you remember how drunk you are and fall over."

  "Hey, can I say … "

  "Ya in a minute but first," Jonathen paused the game, "I really want to apologize. I was out of line. You're actually not a coward. Coming here angry was stupid and cowardly but ... you're not angry." Rodney suddenly realized that he had lost all of his anger. Somewhere, maybe standing outside the cottage as Tadhg's Taxi puttered off, his anger evaporated. "I don't know what you're thinking but I know you've forgotten about yelling at me. And you're not a bastard. I mean, it was a really, really weak thing to walk by Maggie but honestly, who wouldn't have? I mean, I didn't but you're right. I am crazy. I act spontaneously in ways that should turn out really bad for me. I know this about myself and I shouldn't make you feel bad by measuring your decision to preserve yourself against mine to try and help simply because I'm foolish enough not think before I run." Rodney felt Jonathen was letting him off the hook. He found this to be complete rubbish, nonsense in the highest form but as he was about to open his mouth in protest he realized it was already overwhelmed with the largest bite of any sandwich he had ever taken. Jonathen unpaused the game and continued, "I meant what I said, about there being a real value in trying to help someone even when there is no chance of succeeding but, when I said it I knew I was making you feel like shit and I am, I'm really sorry."

  The triumphant 8-bit trumpet tones sounding a level up chimed out.

  "No Jon, I'm a wanker. A real coward and ya, a bastard too. I mean, with the girl tonight?! What's wrong with me? And calling Maggie a..., I just .. I, and then Tadhg with his story and seriously man, who are you? You just show up one day in your … in your," Rodney was finding it difficult to talk through the enormous bites his mouth couldn't stop taking, "holy hell this is incredible. A cheesesteak? Geeeeez."

  "Ha, ya. Nothing better after a night of drinking and a few hits."

  "Shut up, no, I'm not done. Now you shut up Jonathen *chomp*chomp*. I'm serious, you and your yellow corduroys suddenly bouncing into Cork saving ladies and changing lives and calling people by their first names and, and damn it, you're like my best friend and sometimes I just hate you."

  "Gaww shucks, I love you too man." Jonathen chuckled.

  "Ya well, sit on it." Rodney continued decimating the sandwich as Link clinked and chinged through his adventure toward princess Zelda. Eventually they both sat on the couch taking turns playing. After several back and forths Rodney got them out of The Lost Woods. Jonathen discovered The Hammer but they both take credit for being the only one that knows which portal leads to where.

  "Ey Jonathen."

  "Ya Rodney."

  "You're a really good friend. Sorry about early.. earlier."

  "Thank you Rot-ney. Believe it or not, you are too."