A Life for a Life
Chapter Twenty-Three
Caolan was walking a little ahead of his elder sister, in a bad mood with her. The two siblings had once again been arguing about Miceál – Caolan wanted to know where he was, Aoibheann, not wanting to betray Miceál's trust, had been refusing to say a word.
"Caolan, stop being such a wee baby!" she called after her little brother. "It's not my place to tell you, sure it isn't."
"You never keep anything from me before!" Caolan called angrily back, and Aoibheann had trouble hearing him because he refused to turn in her direction.
"Well, this is different!"
"How is it?"
"I –" Aoibheann broke of. She couldn't say too much without giving Miceál away. Caolan was old enough now to put two and two together.
They stayed in stony silence until they reached the street they lived on. Instantly, they realised something was up. Several people were crowded around a figure on the floor, and something about the small, bloodsoaked figure on the floor seemed vaguely familiar –
"MICEÁL!" Aoibheann realised who it was in the same instant tat Caolan screamed his big brother's name. Both Callaghan children ran over to where the crowd of people were, and Aoibheann burst into tears as she saw that they hadn't been mistaken – Miceál was lying, quite still, in the recovery position. He was wrapped in someone's coat, but he blood on his hands and streaked over his face told no lies – he was badly hurt.
Aoibheann dropped to her knees and gently touched her brother's pale face. There was no response, but he was at least still breathing, despite being deeply unconscious.
"Have youse called an ambulance?" she asked hoarsely, doing her best to remain strong, to stop crying, to support Miceál and not give up on him …
"Not yet." was the reply. "We've only just found him now. None of us thought he was alive when we first seen him."
Aoibheann turned to her little brother, but Caolan was way ahead of her. He was already running into their house, which was a few doors down, to go for help.
Grainne came downstairs to see what the commotion in the hall was about just as Caolan had placed the phone back down. He glanced at her, and then went to run out of the door again.
"Who were you on the phone to?"
"I was getting an ambulance," Caolan said in a rush. "Miceál's been hurt –"
"What?" Caolan had caught his mother's attention – her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide.
"Miceál's hurt, he's out on the street, he's been shot –"
They were the only words Caolan got out before Grainne, not even bothering with simple things such as shoes, had ran out of the door. By the time Caolan had gone down the hall and followed her, Grainne was already at her eldest child's side.
"Ma!" Aoibheann's tone was of pure surprise as her mother caught up with them, tears streaking down her cheeks as she fell down beside her son and put her hand on his young cheek.
"Miceál? Baby, wake up," she whispered, gently rubbing it. "Come on, Miceál, wake up for me, baby,"
"There's an ambulance coming," Caolan caught up, gasping because of the run and the shock.
Grainne didn't reply. The only place she was looking was her son's face, tears streaming down her face.
"Miceál, please wake up," she whispered. "Don’t die as well, please, Miceál, don't leave me too,"
Miceál remained still, but, somewhere in the fog that had obscured his thoughts, his mother's pleading voice was getting through. He tried to open his eyes, but he either couldn't, or didn't have the strength. He didn't know how long he tried, but eventually, after a prolonged effort, he managed to see a glimmer of light, and then, despite blurred, his mother's face swam into view.
"M – Ma?"
"Oh, Miceál!"
"I'm sorry, Ma," Miceál's voice was desperately weak, and so soft that Grainne had to lean in close to hear him.
"No, Miceál," Grainne whispered, her voice breaking and tears streaming more frantically down her cheeks, as not only fear, but overwhelming guilt swept over her. "It's me that should be sorry, isn't it?"
"No, why?" Miceál looked up at his mother, and Grainne saw, behind the pain in his eyes, a hint of confusion.
"Why do you think?" she whispered, her voice calm and gentle, though inside she was disgusted with herself. "All these years, and I haven't given a damn about you, have I? All of these years and I've been to walled up in my own wee world to see what you were managing … you brought Aoibheann and Caolan up to be wonderful, respectful, polite kids, and it wasn't anything to do with me, was it? It was you that ran around the neighbourhood doing odd jobs to bring in extra money so that they could look forward to something on the weekends, and there you were washing cars and mowing lawns and doing shopping and all sorts and you hadn't even changed out of your school uniform. It was you who looked after them, and you don't get many big brothers who are willing to listen to their sister's friendship problems when they should be out with their friends, do you? You gave up everything so Aoibheann and Caolan could have a shot at life, and it was all no thanks to me!" Sobs were puncturing Grainne's speech now, tears dripping onto her lap where she crouched next to her eldest child.
Miceál was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he forced a smile, despite the pain she knew he must be in.
"It was nothing," Miceál's voice was weak, but modest.
"It was everything, Miceál. You looked after my children and you were my child as well. I'm so sorry – I know I'll never be able to make it up to, what I did, what you had to do because of me … but I want you to know I'm sorry, all right? No more, OK?"
Miceál smiled, and then he closed his eyes again. Grainne cradled him in her arms as the silence of the street was broken, and sirens sounded closer and closer.
"Caolan, stop being such a wee baby!" she called after her little brother. "It's not my place to tell you, sure it isn't."
"You never keep anything from me before!" Caolan called angrily back, and Aoibheann had trouble hearing him because he refused to turn in her direction.
"Well, this is different!"
"How is it?"
"I –" Aoibheann broke of. She couldn't say too much without giving Miceál away. Caolan was old enough now to put two and two together.
They stayed in stony silence until they reached the street they lived on. Instantly, they realised something was up. Several people were crowded around a figure on the floor, and something about the small, bloodsoaked figure on the floor seemed vaguely familiar –
"MICEÁL!" Aoibheann realised who it was in the same instant tat Caolan screamed his big brother's name. Both Callaghan children ran over to where the crowd of people were, and Aoibheann burst into tears as she saw that they hadn't been mistaken – Miceál was lying, quite still, in the recovery position. He was wrapped in someone's coat, but he blood on his hands and streaked over his face told no lies – he was badly hurt.
Aoibheann dropped to her knees and gently touched her brother's pale face. There was no response, but he was at least still breathing, despite being deeply unconscious.
"Have youse called an ambulance?" she asked hoarsely, doing her best to remain strong, to stop crying, to support Miceál and not give up on him …
"Not yet." was the reply. "We've only just found him now. None of us thought he was alive when we first seen him."
Aoibheann turned to her little brother, but Caolan was way ahead of her. He was already running into their house, which was a few doors down, to go for help.
Grainne came downstairs to see what the commotion in the hall was about just as Caolan had placed the phone back down. He glanced at her, and then went to run out of the door again.
"Who were you on the phone to?"
"I was getting an ambulance," Caolan said in a rush. "Miceál's been hurt –"
"What?" Caolan had caught his mother's attention – her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide.
"Miceál's hurt, he's out on the street, he's been shot –"
They were the only words Caolan got out before Grainne, not even bothering with simple things such as shoes, had ran out of the door. By the time Caolan had gone down the hall and followed her, Grainne was already at her eldest child's side.
"Ma!" Aoibheann's tone was of pure surprise as her mother caught up with them, tears streaking down her cheeks as she fell down beside her son and put her hand on his young cheek.
"Miceál? Baby, wake up," she whispered, gently rubbing it. "Come on, Miceál, wake up for me, baby,"
"There's an ambulance coming," Caolan caught up, gasping because of the run and the shock.
Grainne didn't reply. The only place she was looking was her son's face, tears streaming down her face.
"Miceál, please wake up," she whispered. "Don’t die as well, please, Miceál, don't leave me too,"
Miceál remained still, but, somewhere in the fog that had obscured his thoughts, his mother's pleading voice was getting through. He tried to open his eyes, but he either couldn't, or didn't have the strength. He didn't know how long he tried, but eventually, after a prolonged effort, he managed to see a glimmer of light, and then, despite blurred, his mother's face swam into view.
"M – Ma?"
"Oh, Miceál!"
"I'm sorry, Ma," Miceál's voice was desperately weak, and so soft that Grainne had to lean in close to hear him.
"No, Miceál," Grainne whispered, her voice breaking and tears streaming more frantically down her cheeks, as not only fear, but overwhelming guilt swept over her. "It's me that should be sorry, isn't it?"
"No, why?" Miceál looked up at his mother, and Grainne saw, behind the pain in his eyes, a hint of confusion.
"Why do you think?" she whispered, her voice calm and gentle, though inside she was disgusted with herself. "All these years, and I haven't given a damn about you, have I? All of these years and I've been to walled up in my own wee world to see what you were managing … you brought Aoibheann and Caolan up to be wonderful, respectful, polite kids, and it wasn't anything to do with me, was it? It was you that ran around the neighbourhood doing odd jobs to bring in extra money so that they could look forward to something on the weekends, and there you were washing cars and mowing lawns and doing shopping and all sorts and you hadn't even changed out of your school uniform. It was you who looked after them, and you don't get many big brothers who are willing to listen to their sister's friendship problems when they should be out with their friends, do you? You gave up everything so Aoibheann and Caolan could have a shot at life, and it was all no thanks to me!" Sobs were puncturing Grainne's speech now, tears dripping onto her lap where she crouched next to her eldest child.
Miceál was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he forced a smile, despite the pain she knew he must be in.
"It was nothing," Miceál's voice was weak, but modest.
"It was everything, Miceál. You looked after my children and you were my child as well. I'm so sorry – I know I'll never be able to make it up to, what I did, what you had to do because of me … but I want you to know I'm sorry, all right? No more, OK?"
Miceál smiled, and then he closed his eyes again. Grainne cradled him in her arms as the silence of the street was broken, and sirens sounded closer and closer.