Chapter 1 :: Page 4

end of the pasture lane.
   "You haven't had yer breakfast, yet, lad," he said in a thick voice. "Yer breath is still sleep bad. I can smell it even in this cold." He chuckled to himself.
   I stood up quietly. "I'm working today. Something for you in town?"
   "Yeah, something."
   I sat for awhile, then left McMill sitting as he was before.
   The bacon was fried and I could smell it as I approached the house. Kildarn Street was a large one in Dalkey and one of the finer looking house streets because there were a lot of border houses. The houses were two or three stories and most were built with large veranda porches. Some had circular towers, painted shutters, wood lace work and white trim around the windows and structural frames. Early in the morning before work traffic, sausage and egg aromas floated from one house to the other.
   Mrs. O'Malley acknowledged me with a polite smile as I returned to the house. Four places were set on the table. Two of the settings were used already. A familiar face sat at the table.
   "Ah, Mick, how'ya doing today?"
   "James O’Dorhorty. Nice to see you." I nodded and slid in across from him, extending my hand. We shook firmly. His heavy brown zipper shirt and cacky linen pants looked damp. His hands were rough. Mrs. O'Malley served us, and she spied a quick glance at me as if we held a secret together. I could smell Guinness on his clothes as they hadn’t dried.
   "I didn't realize you were in town again."
   "I shipped in late last night at Dun Laoghlaire. The DART was already off so I walked it myself. Eme out again later today. Think we're heading to France 'stead of Dover now." James spoke with a light accent with wet emphasis. He had been trying to hone his Irish accent to what he thought the American girls thought was an Irish accent, more cosmopolitan. I could usually tell when he was in town and staying at O’Malleys because he constantly played old American westerns on television.
   "Waters rough this time going over to the continent?" It was a statement rather than a question. I had gone on that route once before.
   "Oh, ye don't know. One says this, one says that. Ye just don't know, but I don't care. I know the captain of this ship. It’s a small one going and I hear he's full with crew, so I might get some sleep. That’s what I need. Some time."
   "I can't stand those ships. So tight, so many bodies so close together."
   "Yeah, you know, all d’ose men. It’s like a little men's group with the drinking and stories. We bring instruments to play to pass the time. You’d be surprised how many wonderful musicians there are kept hidden in the bodies of steel ships. I just learned to play that song Ricky Nelson sang in Rio Bravo on guitar."

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