The Clock

by Hugh Campbell

Mickey enjoyed these sessions, but tonight he was off-form. His wife was away three weeks now visiting their daughter, who was nursing in England. April was nearly over and his turf still wasn”t cut. Worst of all he hadn”t had any sleep for two nights attending to a sick spring heifer expecting her first calf. Tonight the card playing was upset with Mickey back and forward to the byre with his hurricane lamp, for once wishing in his heart the men would go home.

There were seven of them, most in their forties, and Phil was the only married one. “Shower of Nancy boys”” Mickey called them. Ian was the youngest and Mickey had him earmarked for a day cutting turf. The card playing was over and the men began talking. Mickey looked at the clock. It was a beautiful ceramic wall clock, a present from his daughter. “It’s eleven o’ clock boys”, he said, “and the winds getting up.” Eddie, a nervous type, was talking. “Old Matt was telling me he saw the wee folk dancing in a circle in a field one morning.” “They do be in it,” said his brother, Harry. Chuck gave a laugh. He liked to think of himself as an atheist, though everyone knew he wouldnt walk his own length in the dark.

The talk turned to old Nick. Harry told of a man he knew who was fishing one evening in his little boat when the devil hauled himself in over the end and said to the man: “youre good giving advice,” and dived back in again. “Boys o boys”, said the awe-struck Mickey, sprinkling holy water over the table. Harry continued “The man said the devil was as black as soot.” “Well he would be, wouldnt he?” said the sarcastic Chuck. “With all that stoking he does.” Harry went on. “The man was struck dumb and when he got home he went to bed and never spoke for a week. No one knew what had happened to him. Then one day he heard his wife talking to a neighbour about someone who had passed away. “When did he die?” he asked. “The evening you were out fishing”, she replied. The man remembered how his advice had helped the man from becoming an alcoholic. “So you see”, said Harry, “he saved the mans soul.” “Holy Mary”, said Mickey sprinkling more water. Chuck laughed, “I know the man youre talking about, sure he never had a sober day in his life.” “Its not right for you talking like that,” said Mickey. Eddie said, “There was this dance hall down in Mayo and one night a handsome man came in. He danced several times with every girl except one. Afterwards people said they saw sparks around his feet when he was waltzing around. When the girls got together they discovered the one who the stranger hadnt danced with was the only one wearing a religious emblem.” “Boys o boys”, said the pious Mickey. Chuck laughed, “I bet she looked like the back-end of a bus.”

Ian thought it was time for his showpiece. “I had a busy day today, I dug up eight bodies in the graveyard.” “Holy God,” said Mickey, hurricane lamp in his hand, sick heifer temporarily forgotten. “Two German officials came in on the mail-boat”, continued Ian, “and Jack directed them to my house. They had come to collect the sailors who had been washed ashore during the war and rebury them in Wicklow. They asked if Id do the digging. For the money they offered me, I”d have dug up all my relatives as well!” “God forgive you”, said the shaky Eddie. The digging was no big deal-the graves were shallow, and three hours saw the coffins scooped out and riddled, the skeleton of each deposited in a plastic zipper bad, so light that Ian carried the lot through the graveyard to the van the Germans had hired for the job. The men were silent as Ian described how one of the skeletons was minus a head, and how another had a perfectly preserved pair of brogue shoes. I just emptied the sand in the shoes into the riddle one of the Germans held. He shook it and all the little bones appeared. “What he didn”t tell them was when he returned home, his mother had cooked chicken for dinner. Taking the leg bone he rubbed it with sand and had it in his pocket to the card playing. He continued with his story - “when I carried the bags out of the cemetery, I was out of sight of the Germans. I unzipped a bag and took a bone for a souvenir, and I brought it here tonight thinking it would bring me luck.” He took the bone and threw it on the table.

It was as if a bomb had gone off. The table was overturned and Eddie ran out the door. Patrick, pale-faced backed against the mantelpiece with such force that the beautiful clock fell off the wall and smashed on the floor. It was all too much for Mickey. Grabbing the poker, he rushed at the men: “Clear to hell you shower of toe rags.” The kitchen cleared in seconds, the awkward Harry taking up the rear, and getting a kick in the pant for his tardiness. “Thats the end of the card playing,” Ian”s pal, Frank, told him. And it was. Mickey”s heifer had her calf that same night. A week later he approached Ian to help him with his turf. Ian, appalled at what had happened, agreed. “I was in a bad temper that night”, Mickey told him. The table was broken and the cards were scattered everywhere. When I thought “Holy God, that”s some poor woman”s son. I put it in a cardboard box and the following evening I buried it in the plot in the graveyard where the Germans were buried.” Ian mused to himself, “I suppose the chicken had a mother also.” The clock wasn”t mentioned.