A Life for a Life
Chapter Thirteen
Grainne was standing in the middle of her bedroom, her back to the door, and Aoibheann could see that she was shaking also.
"Mummy?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"What?" Grainne's voice was monotone – very rarely did it have any emotion in it.
"Are you OK?"
"Of course I'm not OK."
"Miceál didn't mean it."
"I don't care about Miceál."
"How can you not care about Miceál? He's your first child!"
"He left us. He left us all alone, and he can stay out of this house as far as I'm concerned."
"You don’t mean that." Grainne turned round, her face cold.
"I do too. What good has he been anyway? All he does it stop me from being with my Darragh. Selfish little bastard!"
"Ma!" Aoibheann shrieked, tears rolling down her face again. "How can you say that? You'd be the selfish one if you ever went and did anything like that! What would become of us? We'd be orphans!"
"You'd be all right. You'd have Miceál, telling you what to do as he always does."
"Ma – "
"I heard he's in the IRA. He's the selfish one. Let him, Aoibheann. Just let him."
*
Miceál was sitting in Diarmuid's living room, his eyes glazed over with he anger that was still pulsing through his body. He was breathing heavily, and Diarmuid was watching him worriedly.
"Are ye sure there's nothing I can do for ye, Miceál?"
"I'm fine." Miceál said shortly.
"What happened, hey?" Diarmuid asked softly.
"Aoibheann was blaming what happened to Da on him."
"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that."
"From what I heard she did."
"Come on, Miceál. I know that you're mad, but there's really no reason to take it out on your family."
"Da was my family."
"And so are Grainne and Aoibheann and Caolan."
"You wouldn't know it."
"Miceál!"
"Well, what help have they been?" Diarmuid sighed and shook his head, leaving the room briefly, and leaving Miceál feeling bad, frustrated and upset.
When Diarmuid came back in, Miceál had changed moods once more.
"When Uncle Oisin got shot, was Da there?" he asked, completely out of the blue.
"Yes. Why?"
"What was he like?"
"Why do you want to know?" Miceál shrugged, and Diarmuid thought he had a vague idea why the child wanted to know.
"I just want to know, that's all."
"Well," Diarmuid sighed and sat down, wishing that he didn’t have to answer all of these awkward and upsetting questions. "You know how close Darragh and Oisin were."
"Yeah. I know."
"I guess it completely destroyed your father. And if he had survived, I think that he would never have been the same again." Diarmuid got straight to the point. "I found Darragh out in he back yard. He'd just climbed over the back wall and he was just lying there, hysterical. I couldn't calm him down for ages. And he was acting weird. He just kept constantly talking to himself, muttering about what had happened and just … well, he was just rambling. I don’t know if that was the way he took it, but it was pretty disturbing. And then all of a sudden, he just started crying. Just in the blink of an eye. It was weird." Miceál nodded.
"So he did cry, then?"
"Aye."
"I never pictured him crying."
"Oh, he did. He was heartbroken. Just … destroyed. A part of him had gone. He was only human, after all. Of course he cried."
"I just … I always felt that I shouldn't cry."
Diarmuid had been spot on when he'd guessed why Miceál had wanted to know.
"You can always cry. You lost your father, after all."
"I mean, it's all right when Ma and Aoibheann cry, because they're girls. And Caolan never really knew him, anyway. But I guess … I guess I never thought I should."
"It's only natural, Miceál. He was your father and you loved him. But don't try and glorify what it would be like if he had lived. You wouldn't have had the same father that you had before that night. He would have been devastated by Oisin's death, and he never would have been the same again. Plus, he would either have been in jail or on the run."
"At least he would have been alive." Miceál said softly, barely audible.
Diarmuid sighed, settling back in his chair. He was going to have to speak to Miceál about this sooner or later.
"Mummy?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"What?" Grainne's voice was monotone – very rarely did it have any emotion in it.
"Are you OK?"
"Of course I'm not OK."
"Miceál didn't mean it."
"I don't care about Miceál."
"How can you not care about Miceál? He's your first child!"
"He left us. He left us all alone, and he can stay out of this house as far as I'm concerned."
"You don’t mean that." Grainne turned round, her face cold.
"I do too. What good has he been anyway? All he does it stop me from being with my Darragh. Selfish little bastard!"
"Ma!" Aoibheann shrieked, tears rolling down her face again. "How can you say that? You'd be the selfish one if you ever went and did anything like that! What would become of us? We'd be orphans!"
"You'd be all right. You'd have Miceál, telling you what to do as he always does."
"Ma – "
"I heard he's in the IRA. He's the selfish one. Let him, Aoibheann. Just let him."
*
Miceál was sitting in Diarmuid's living room, his eyes glazed over with he anger that was still pulsing through his body. He was breathing heavily, and Diarmuid was watching him worriedly.
"Are ye sure there's nothing I can do for ye, Miceál?"
"I'm fine." Miceál said shortly.
"What happened, hey?" Diarmuid asked softly.
"Aoibheann was blaming what happened to Da on him."
"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that."
"From what I heard she did."
"Come on, Miceál. I know that you're mad, but there's really no reason to take it out on your family."
"Da was my family."
"And so are Grainne and Aoibheann and Caolan."
"You wouldn't know it."
"Miceál!"
"Well, what help have they been?" Diarmuid sighed and shook his head, leaving the room briefly, and leaving Miceál feeling bad, frustrated and upset.
When Diarmuid came back in, Miceál had changed moods once more.
"When Uncle Oisin got shot, was Da there?" he asked, completely out of the blue.
"Yes. Why?"
"What was he like?"
"Why do you want to know?" Miceál shrugged, and Diarmuid thought he had a vague idea why the child wanted to know.
"I just want to know, that's all."
"Well," Diarmuid sighed and sat down, wishing that he didn’t have to answer all of these awkward and upsetting questions. "You know how close Darragh and Oisin were."
"Yeah. I know."
"I guess it completely destroyed your father. And if he had survived, I think that he would never have been the same again." Diarmuid got straight to the point. "I found Darragh out in he back yard. He'd just climbed over the back wall and he was just lying there, hysterical. I couldn't calm him down for ages. And he was acting weird. He just kept constantly talking to himself, muttering about what had happened and just … well, he was just rambling. I don’t know if that was the way he took it, but it was pretty disturbing. And then all of a sudden, he just started crying. Just in the blink of an eye. It was weird." Miceál nodded.
"So he did cry, then?"
"Aye."
"I never pictured him crying."
"Oh, he did. He was heartbroken. Just … destroyed. A part of him had gone. He was only human, after all. Of course he cried."
"I just … I always felt that I shouldn't cry."
Diarmuid had been spot on when he'd guessed why Miceál had wanted to know.
"You can always cry. You lost your father, after all."
"I mean, it's all right when Ma and Aoibheann cry, because they're girls. And Caolan never really knew him, anyway. But I guess … I guess I never thought I should."
"It's only natural, Miceál. He was your father and you loved him. But don't try and glorify what it would be like if he had lived. You wouldn't have had the same father that you had before that night. He would have been devastated by Oisin's death, and he never would have been the same again. Plus, he would either have been in jail or on the run."
"At least he would have been alive." Miceál said softly, barely audible.
Diarmuid sighed, settling back in his chair. He was going to have to speak to Miceál about this sooner or later.