WINTER ' FOURTEEN
such as oh great! wonderful! but with a hint of deserved triumph.
Da studied the object that had been freed from its grave. Part of its DNA an eight-inch masonry block.
[CHARACTER DESCRIPTION] Face like a crumpled dish cloth.
“That’s the quare fellow,” said Da. “I built the extension on the old house with that block. Used them
a year before you made an appearance.”
He flattened the scree on the bed of the shore with the shovel heel.
“Cost me four bob a hundred,” said Da. “Eighteen miles there in a tractor with no roof. Christ curse
the likes of it didn’t it always rain. Must have made the journey a half-dozen times. Got a hundred on the
trailer at a tim e. The fella that worked there was a bit of a kiss-my-hand. Had an awful time haggling with
him. But four bob a hundred, that’s a decent price, and I said it to your man’s face. Almost didn’t get them,
but it was all I could afford, so I had to haggle him.”
I was still on my knees with the block of masonry and had affixed a sling around it ready to haul it out
of the shore.
“Up on your legs, man.”
[COGNITIVE ASIDE] First time my father has ever referred to me as a man. A momentous instant of acceptance.
He had recognized that his youngest son would not follow in his footsteps. Middle son would take over the farm and I
would help from time to time, and send part of my wages each week.
“No use being on your knees, man, unless you mean not to get back up,” said Da.
We both moved onto the sling and dragged the masonry out of the shore.
“The grass is turning,” said Da. Both fields of grass had been cut two days previous and were yellowing
in the sun. “It’ll near be time to bale it.”
“We might be lucky,” I said. “But it’s meant to rain tomorrow.”
“We might be lucky, Cathal. The frogs are black, though, so it’ll rain soon.”
Along the lane came a boy on an eighteen-speed mountain bike and he stopped next to the shore and
peered over the edge of it like someone near the brink of a cliff.
“What are youse at?” he asked.
“Laying down the long shore.”
“Long sure?” he questioned.
[CHARACTER DESCRIPTION] Drooped jaw.
“Looks like a lot of hard work. Would youse not get a digger? A digger would do this in minutes.”
“Doing the work is half the sport,” said Da.
The boy took out a piece of folded paper that said Sponsored Walk.
The Linnet's Wings