A Life for a Life
Chapter Twelve
Miceál nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, heading home. However, before he reached his street, he took several detours down some alleyways, and, making sure no one was watching him, made his way towards the Ardoyne estate.
He got to his house a little while later, and he took his key out of his pocket and let himself in. He'd never got rid of he key, because he wanted to at least have a bit of his old life with him to come back to whenever he could. Only Ma would be at home, he knew that, but at least he would be there for when Aoibheann and Caolan got back from school
Miceál had never really gone to school for the past couple of years. He'd been too busy trying desperately to hole the family together and to bring money in, as well as pursuing his career in the IRA. He'd been doing that since he was about fifteen and a half.
Miceál got the shock of his life when Aoibheann put her head out of the living room.
"MICEÁL!" she shrieked, throwing herself at him and hugging him excitedly.
"Jeez, it's only been a day since I last seen ye!" Miceál laughed, but he still enjoyed hugging his little sister again. Then he frowned. "Why aren’t you in school?"
"I couldn't today." Aoibheann spoke softly, lowering her voice. "Ma's not very well. She came down yesterday and she saw that you weren't there, and then she just went upstairs and there she's stayed for the rest of the time."
"She's not tried … well, you know, again, has she?"
"No. I made sure of that. I keep checking on her."
"God, I feel awful leaving youse," Miceál muttered.
"So why don't you come back?" Aoibheann asked, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. Of course, in theory, it was. But as Miceál knew all too well: when it came to life, nothing was ever simple.
"For crying out loud, Aoibheann, how many times?" Miceál burst out. "I can't come home. I'm doing something, all right?"
"Please, tell me what's going on?" Aoibheann begged. Miceál kicked the door closed behind him and went into the kitchen, sighing as he looked out of the window.
"I want to tell you, Aoibheann. But you have to understand that I can't. I can't let anyone know what I'm doing, because if it gets out, I'll be killed. It's too risky."
"What in the world could you be doing if you'll be killed for it?" Aoibheann whispered as loudly as she could get away with. "You're not informing, are you?"
Miceál span around with such anger that Aoibheann gasped and took a step away from her elder brother.
"Why the fuck," Miceál hissed, his voice dangerously low. "Why the fuck would I be informing after what happened to Da? Would I really strut in and grass up a whole load of IRA members after I watched Da die in this house? Do you really think I would do that? Am I that much of a bastard?"
"Miceál –"
"I already told you that I'm in the IRA, that's all you need to know. I'm in, so I'm certainly not touting. And I can't believe that you would even suggest it!"
Aoibheann looked close to tears, not only at her brother's anger, but also at the fact that now there was no avoiding the fact that he was in the IRA, and now she was terrified that she was going to loose him forever.
"I can't believe that you would do such a thing to this family after what happened," Aoibheann whispered, fat tears starting to fall down he face. "Daddy died, and you saw it happen, and now you're joining the very same organisation that got him killed. They killed him, Miceál!"
"They didn't kill him! The fucking soldiers killed him! The fucking police killed him! Not the IRA, Aoibheann, not the IRA!" Miceál was breathing heavily now, his face hot, his fists clenched.
"If he had never have gotten involved, he never would have died."
"That's fucking right! Blame him! Go on, Aoibheann Callaghan; blame Da for what happened to him! Do you want to bring Uncle Oisin into this as well, eh? Was it his fault that he was blasted to pieces while his back was turned? Should he have grown eyes in the back of his head so he saw them coming? Should Da have just ran through the door so he didn't "waste time" getting it open? Should he have worn armour around with him so he never got shot? Should he?" Tears were pouring down Miceál's face now as well, and he smacked his fist hard off the kitchen counter. "Fuck, Aoibheann, SHOULD HE?"
"Miceál, stop, you'll bring Ma down here," Aoibheann begged.
"DON'T YOU TRY AND CHANGE THE SUBJECT! DON'T YOU DARE BLAME DA AND UNCLE OISIN FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM! THEY FOUGHT AND THE DIED FOR THEIR COUNTRY, AND THE ONLY THING THEY DID WRONG WAS LOVE THEIR COUNTRY! IT WASN'T THEIR FAULT! DON'T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN!"
"I didn’t mean it like that, Miceál," Aoibheann sobbed, desperately trying to calm her brother down. He looked as though he was going to take a heart attack if he didn’t calm down soon. "I didn't mean that it was his fault, you know I never thought that! I just don’t want you going the same way. You're the only thing holding us together and if you were killed then I don't know what this family would do! Miceál, please, you have to understand why you can't do this! We'll go to pieces without you!"
"For once I want o do something I want to do, all right? For once, I don't want to have to be running around after other people! You're fifteen years old! Surely you can hold the fort for a while, if I'm not here? You could cook before you could toddle, for crying out loud!"
"Only because I had you to help me!"
"I spent my whole life looking after this family, keeping them together, taking he abuse from Ma because she wanted me to be "her Darragh"! I was never good enough, was I? She never wanted me, she always wanted Da, but she won't get Da! Not until we go to Heaven, and she knows that! But she carried on giving me abuse, yelling at me as though it's my fault, hitting me with one of her many alcohol bottles, treating me like a piece of shit, and now I'm fed up! When all my friends in primary school were out playing Gaelic at the park, or messing on the street, where was I? I was at home, looking after two young children despite being a child myself. When they all went on that school trip, where was I? At home, looking after Ma because she was banging on about killing herself, that's where I was. And now, for once, I want to get back at the people who did that to us. I want to ruin the lives of those people who ruined mine, and I want to destroy their families and see how they fucking like it!"
"It'll never solve anything, Miceál!"
"Do I look like I give a flying fuck?" Miceál spat, and then he stormed out of the house.
Trembling, Aoibheann stayed in the kitchen for quite some time, before she forced herself to go up the stairs and see what damage Miceál's yelling had done to her mother.
He got to his house a little while later, and he took his key out of his pocket and let himself in. He'd never got rid of he key, because he wanted to at least have a bit of his old life with him to come back to whenever he could. Only Ma would be at home, he knew that, but at least he would be there for when Aoibheann and Caolan got back from school
Miceál had never really gone to school for the past couple of years. He'd been too busy trying desperately to hole the family together and to bring money in, as well as pursuing his career in the IRA. He'd been doing that since he was about fifteen and a half.
Miceál got the shock of his life when Aoibheann put her head out of the living room.
"MICEÁL!" she shrieked, throwing herself at him and hugging him excitedly.
"Jeez, it's only been a day since I last seen ye!" Miceál laughed, but he still enjoyed hugging his little sister again. Then he frowned. "Why aren’t you in school?"
"I couldn't today." Aoibheann spoke softly, lowering her voice. "Ma's not very well. She came down yesterday and she saw that you weren't there, and then she just went upstairs and there she's stayed for the rest of the time."
"She's not tried … well, you know, again, has she?"
"No. I made sure of that. I keep checking on her."
"God, I feel awful leaving youse," Miceál muttered.
"So why don't you come back?" Aoibheann asked, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. Of course, in theory, it was. But as Miceál knew all too well: when it came to life, nothing was ever simple.
"For crying out loud, Aoibheann, how many times?" Miceál burst out. "I can't come home. I'm doing something, all right?"
"Please, tell me what's going on?" Aoibheann begged. Miceál kicked the door closed behind him and went into the kitchen, sighing as he looked out of the window.
"I want to tell you, Aoibheann. But you have to understand that I can't. I can't let anyone know what I'm doing, because if it gets out, I'll be killed. It's too risky."
"What in the world could you be doing if you'll be killed for it?" Aoibheann whispered as loudly as she could get away with. "You're not informing, are you?"
Miceál span around with such anger that Aoibheann gasped and took a step away from her elder brother.
"Why the fuck," Miceál hissed, his voice dangerously low. "Why the fuck would I be informing after what happened to Da? Would I really strut in and grass up a whole load of IRA members after I watched Da die in this house? Do you really think I would do that? Am I that much of a bastard?"
"Miceál –"
"I already told you that I'm in the IRA, that's all you need to know. I'm in, so I'm certainly not touting. And I can't believe that you would even suggest it!"
Aoibheann looked close to tears, not only at her brother's anger, but also at the fact that now there was no avoiding the fact that he was in the IRA, and now she was terrified that she was going to loose him forever.
"I can't believe that you would do such a thing to this family after what happened," Aoibheann whispered, fat tears starting to fall down he face. "Daddy died, and you saw it happen, and now you're joining the very same organisation that got him killed. They killed him, Miceál!"
"They didn't kill him! The fucking soldiers killed him! The fucking police killed him! Not the IRA, Aoibheann, not the IRA!" Miceál was breathing heavily now, his face hot, his fists clenched.
"If he had never have gotten involved, he never would have died."
"That's fucking right! Blame him! Go on, Aoibheann Callaghan; blame Da for what happened to him! Do you want to bring Uncle Oisin into this as well, eh? Was it his fault that he was blasted to pieces while his back was turned? Should he have grown eyes in the back of his head so he saw them coming? Should Da have just ran through the door so he didn't "waste time" getting it open? Should he have worn armour around with him so he never got shot? Should he?" Tears were pouring down Miceál's face now as well, and he smacked his fist hard off the kitchen counter. "Fuck, Aoibheann, SHOULD HE?"
"Miceál, stop, you'll bring Ma down here," Aoibheann begged.
"DON'T YOU TRY AND CHANGE THE SUBJECT! DON'T YOU DARE BLAME DA AND UNCLE OISIN FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM! THEY FOUGHT AND THE DIED FOR THEIR COUNTRY, AND THE ONLY THING THEY DID WRONG WAS LOVE THEIR COUNTRY! IT WASN'T THEIR FAULT! DON'T YOU EVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN!"
"I didn’t mean it like that, Miceál," Aoibheann sobbed, desperately trying to calm her brother down. He looked as though he was going to take a heart attack if he didn’t calm down soon. "I didn't mean that it was his fault, you know I never thought that! I just don’t want you going the same way. You're the only thing holding us together and if you were killed then I don't know what this family would do! Miceál, please, you have to understand why you can't do this! We'll go to pieces without you!"
"For once I want o do something I want to do, all right? For once, I don't want to have to be running around after other people! You're fifteen years old! Surely you can hold the fort for a while, if I'm not here? You could cook before you could toddle, for crying out loud!"
"Only because I had you to help me!"
"I spent my whole life looking after this family, keeping them together, taking he abuse from Ma because she wanted me to be "her Darragh"! I was never good enough, was I? She never wanted me, she always wanted Da, but she won't get Da! Not until we go to Heaven, and she knows that! But she carried on giving me abuse, yelling at me as though it's my fault, hitting me with one of her many alcohol bottles, treating me like a piece of shit, and now I'm fed up! When all my friends in primary school were out playing Gaelic at the park, or messing on the street, where was I? I was at home, looking after two young children despite being a child myself. When they all went on that school trip, where was I? At home, looking after Ma because she was banging on about killing herself, that's where I was. And now, for once, I want to get back at the people who did that to us. I want to ruin the lives of those people who ruined mine, and I want to destroy their families and see how they fucking like it!"
"It'll never solve anything, Miceál!"
"Do I look like I give a flying fuck?" Miceál spat, and then he stormed out of the house.
Trembling, Aoibheann stayed in the kitchen for quite some time, before she forced herself to go up the stairs and see what damage Miceál's yelling had done to her mother.