The Devil

Read The Devil for Free Online

Book: Read The Devil for Free Online
Authors: Ken Bruen
human
    contact, even of the virtual sort.
    I popped a X a n a x to ease me on d o w n and, what the hell,
    poured a small Jameson and then decided to have a hot
    toddy.
    Boiling water,
    b r o w n sugar,
    cloves,
    hint . . . tiny dollop of the black.
    Then of course the Jameson.
    G o d , it was good.
    Got me through the horrendous news: lay-offs, despair,
    people losing their homes, an unspeakable incest case not
    twenty miles from where I was, bank rip-offs, drive-by
    shootings in D u b l i n in front of young children, suicides, and
    the impending Oscar ceremonies.
    Drink?
    Fuck, y o u ' d need to mainline heroin to tolerate the news
    these days.
    I saw Stewart's package on the table and slowly opened it.
    71
    KEN BRUEN
    I k i d thee not,
    ten tiny nuns
    and a bowhng ball.
    I turned off the T V , lined up the tiny nuns and, with an
    apologetic nod to the convent right outside me window,
    bowled nuns till I passed out.
    Perhaps an ecclesiastical homage to Agatha Christie's Ten
    Little Indians.
    Or maybe just God's o w n noir humour.
    72
    6
    'The Devil rides out.'
    Dennis Wheatley
    [
    D i d I dream?
    D i d I fuck.
    Count the awful ways.
    M y dad,
    nuns,
    ten devils lined up to be bowled,
    and,
    get this,
    one dripping ketchup burger.
    I woke in drenched sheets, me heart hammering in me chest
    and that horrendous sense of impending doom.
    I got to the shower, dropping a fast X a n a x en route and
    muttering,
    'Tis the holy all of it.'
    My mouth felt like many cats had shat in there.
    The events of the previous evening were flitting in and out
    of me m i n d , like prayers you almost said but forgot the
    crucial line.
    75
    KEN BRUEN
    The hne that pleaded,
    ' G o d help me.'
    Shaved without too many cuts and got into a clean white
    shirt, black 501s, an A r a n sweater and moccasins that pro-
    claimed ' M a d e in Delaware.'
    Joe Biden w o u l d be delighted.
    Turned on the radio to kill the loneliness of an empty home
    and heard the ex-Taoiseach had been barred from giving a
    talk at N U I by dissenting students. Bruce Springsteen was
    publically apologizing for allowing a collection of his hits to be
    sold at the non-unionized Walmart.
    I had to smile at this.
    O u r o w n major retail stores were rumoured to have been
    bought by said Walmart.
    Then the death notices.
    I usually turned these d o w n as I nearly always knew
    somebody on the list and it never ceased to depress the living
    shite out of me.
    The local news had an item about a girl, an employee at
    a fast-food outlet, w h o had been found dead in a local park.
    I stood, shocked to my core.
    Couldn't be.
    Emma?
    N o .
    W h a t was it the demonic C a r l had said to me? Something
    about fast food?
    My heart was pounding and I convinced myself it couldn't
    be. He wouldn't wage war on me that soon and so up close
    and personal.
    76
    THE DEVIL
    I got the other side of two strong coffees, no milk as I'd
    forgotten to buy any, and was waiting for the X a n a x to
    weave its magic.
    It d i d .
    Calmer, I called Stewart and asked him to check that out.
    He said,
    'I'm right on it.'
    I had a laptop - yeah, me, right up to speed. It belonged
    to the guy w h o sublet the apartment to me.
    Tried a Google search on the various aliases I'd gotten
    from M r K , C a r l .
    Z i p .
    N a d a .
    N o t a flogging bite.
    Google was d o w n .
    Yah believe it?
    Due to the appalling weather conditions in L o n d o n , snow
    up to their arse, and the freezing conditions had affected
    Ireland too.
    I muttered,
    ' N o biggie, I can live w i t h that.'
    Put on me G a r d a all-weather coat and heavy scarf, gloves,
    Gore-Tex boots and ventured out.
    Jesus, it was cold, and the snow seemed like it might
    actually stay.
    My hangover was hovering, looking for a way in past the
    X a n a x .
    I headed for the G B C .
    W h a t they call a culchie restaurant. M e a n i n g people up
    77
    J
    KEN BRUEN
    for the day, from the few farms still in business, frequented
    it.
    Translate as
    no pretensions,
    no

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