He stood almost motionless at the end of the mailboat pier, staring out across the dark water. It had been raining for hours and the cold night air seemed to hang over him like a heavy blanket, soaking him to the skin. In one hand he held a cigarette and in the other he toyed with a single wooden drum stick…….at that moment, this relic from his past seemed more important than anything else in his life. Somehow it represented the good times that he couldn’t help feeling he’d thrown away.
The drumstick had once been part of a pair. In a fit of bravado many years ago, he’d nicked them from a band that had been playing in one of the clubs in Boomtown. Then whenever he wanted to get into the club without paying, he’d pull the sticks out of the back pocket of his jeans and wave them at the bouncer, as if to show he was part of that night’s band. Even to this day he was surprised it had worked so often.
Things didn’t tend to go as well once he got inside though. He was a bit of a loner and although that had earned him a reputation with the neighbourhood kids, it meant he’d spend most of the night leaning up against the wall, one hand in his pocket and the other nursing the single pint of Guinness he could afford, given the prices they charged in there. As the night got older, the Guinness became warmer and as flat as his mood.
Although he’d never been good with names, he had a good eye for faces and as he nursed his pint he’d gaze around, noting how the same groups tended to take up the same spots night after night. There were the bowsies over by the bar, the corner boys in the dark where no one could see what was going on and the eternally optimistic hanging around the edge of the dancefloor, hoping to score. He’d never been able to relax among women and most of the girls in Boomtown seemed to be drawn to the ‘cool’ lads rather than to trouble like him. Inevitably, most nights ended with him downing the last of his pint and trudging off home through the cold wet night….and with those memories he was brought right back to the present.
He glanced again at the drumstick in his hand and despite the cold and the chill from the rain, he smiled broadly as it reminded him of the night he’d met his wife. Hers was not one of the faces he recognised and as he glanced nervously across the darkened club, he caught her smiling back at him. She’d asked about the drumsticks and that’s how their life together began. Their wedding was modest but with her he really thought he’d found his happiness.
By the time they’d had their third child, most of that happiness had drained away. For many years he’d refused to take the blame for the way their relationship soured but looking back he realised he’d just been drifting through life and hadn’t really made an effort. Still, it had taken several brushes with the law before she started to lose patience with him and by the time he realised how badly things were going, it was probably too late. Even at that stage, deep down he still craved the happiness they’d felt in their early days…those endless nights in the Italian Café, drinking coffee, eating cake and making each other laugh. In one last ditch effort to save their marriage, he managed to land a job – the only job with prospects he’d ever had - but his boss was a gobshite. After about six months of that he hated being at work as much as he feared going home at night.
And so there he sat. Alone on the mailboat pier in the cold and the wet, without a clue as to what to do next. Sooner or later, dawn broke and with it came the realisation that he had to get away. He couldn’t just leave though – he owed her some sort of explanation. He sneaked in the back door and wrote her a note “Take care while I’m away” and as he folded it, he slipped in a tenner from his wallet. He paused in the doorway, wishing he could do more – the useless note gave her no idea whether he planned to come back and the money wouldn’t last a day for the four of them. But there were no grand gestures he could make. As he turned to look back for what was possibly the last time, his greatest regret was that he’d never managed to find that second drumstick.
She was sorry to find his note. The sorrow was not so much because he’d gone but because she felt that she’d wasted so many years on him. Sure, they’d had some good times….those endless nights in the Italian Café, drinking coffee, eating cake and making each other laugh, but that seemed such a long time ago. In the first weeks and months, she half expected to get home from the school run or the shops to find him sitting at the kitchen table with his single drum stick next to him, as if nothing had happened…..but no. The neighbours sometimes said they thought they’d seen him and her blood ran cold when news of a body drifted up from the docks – though deep down, she’d known it wasn’t him.
After about a year, she realised that she hardly thought about him anymore. The kids had stopped asking where daddy was and slowly, imperceptibly the void he left closed over and they all settled into a new rhythm. Without him to think about, she started to tackle the other things that had always troubled her - the dirty alleys and the brickwall gravestones in this part of Boomtown were no place to bring up three kids. And with that came the realisation that like Joey, they needed to get away - somewhere new where they could make a fresh start and maybe she could find someone new to share the rest of her life with.
Once upon a time, Billy decided he'd go for a walk.. he walked up 2 the traffic lights,pushed in the button & light said " don't walk" but he did..now he's dead..poor Billy.. RIP.
💚🐁💚🐁💚🐁💚🐁💚🐁💚... Love it!!
More than happy if you want to share it. As far as I'm concerned, once it's out there, its out there.
Can I copy and paste it onto the Rats Facebook page?
Reprobates 😆
Wow....thank you, that means a lot.
Yeah the other three reprobates.
Thanks H. but bloody hell - I've only just posted it.!! When you say the other guys, do you mean on the forum or the rest of the band?
Mind blown if the Boomtown Rats are reading my words - I've spent so long with your words going round my psyche!!
ColDog
I love this story. I've shared it with the other guys .
Thanks Col Dog