Headstone Read Free Page A

icy channel for her rage, so she acted as if she
    bought into his motives. And though she despised
    herself, she had such a lust for him she was
    prepared to go along with whatever frenzy he’d
    envisaged. It sated her need to have to lash out
    alone.
    Bine said,
    “James?”
    Jimmy leapt to attention, went and got the nose
    candy, a mini headstone, with cocaine done in nice
    consecutive lines and, naturally, presenting a fifty-
    euro wrapped note, offered the gear first to Bine.
    He did three lines fast, moved the stuff to Sean,
    who did similar, then Jimmy, and, finally, Bethany.
    She didn’t give a proverbial toss that they were as
    chauvinistic as the very society they decried, she
    did four lines just to fuck with the system.
    She smiled as the dope jolted and at their almost
    boyish cries of “Sweet Jaysus,
    Darwin rocks,
    Bring it on muthahfuckahs.”
    She watched Bine carefully, even as she felt the
    icy dribble down her own throat. Christ on a bike,
    that was A-1 dope, she was in danger of speaking,
    such was the potency. She knew the K could take
    him either way:
    magnanimous
    or
    malevolent.
    He caught her stare, asked,
    “The knife?”
    She produced the new Japanese blade he’d
    ordered, serrated edge and as sharp as a bishop
    avoiding child molestation allegations.
    He studied it, asked,
    “And this for whom?”
    She bit down, said,
    “As you desire.”
    Fuck, even to her own self she sounded like a
    wench in an Elizabethan drama or, worse, a bad
    Russell Crowe medieval romp. He moved his
    finger along the edge, letting the fine blade draw
    blood, sucked at it, the blood on his lips, his eyes
    on fire, and she knew, sex would be rough, and
    violent, and the stupid bollix, he’d probably bring
    the knife to their bed. Men and their macho toys.
    He said,
    “Mmmm………in keeping with our strategy, I
    want a retard, but I want him gutted.
    Can you do that?”
    She wanted to say,
    “How fucking difficult can it be, kill a
    handicapped person?”
    Went with,
    “When do you want it to happen?”
    He smiled. If warmth had ever touched that
    expression, it had long since fled. He had his teeth
    filed down to points, adding to the sardonic effect.
    He said,
    “As soon as you find a suitable dribbling idiot.”
    She wanted to say,
    “Have you been in the pubs in Quay Street
    recently?”
    But irony was not his strong point.
    He suddenly leapt to his feet, the Japanese knife
    curled in his right hand. He said to Sean,
    “More drinks me-finks.”
    Sean knew when Bine tried to speak Brit, shit was
    coming down the pike. And hard. He poured the
    Wild into Bine’s tumbler, trying to disguise the
    tremble in his hand. Bine began to move down the
    table, humming, We are the champions. Stopped
    behind Jimmy, who began to turn till Bine laid a
    hand on his shoulder, asked,
    “Why does the priest live?”
    Almost a metaphysical question.
    Before Jimmy could mutter some answer, Bine
    leant forward, slashed his cheek from eye to
    mouth. Blood gushed onto the headstone. Jimmy
    gasped, raised his hand to stem the flow.
    Bine said,
    “Let it bleed.”
    Cue to Bethany, who moved to the sound system,
    put on Exile on Main St . As Jagger began to moan
    and Keith laid on the heavy thump, Bine moved
    back to the map of the school, said, “December
    Eight, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception,
    they’ll be having their special treat of turkey in the
    canteen.”
    Swung around, eyed his crew, said, as he literally
    cackled,
    “A turkey shoot.”

    God holds unique plans for those who
    label others
    ……………..handicapped.
    —Jeff , dad of Serena-May
    Tom Reed had been born with Down syndrome.
    “Mild,”
    the doctor had said.
    Tess, Tom’s mum, nearly screamed,
    “Fucking mild to you, you golfing bastard!”
    And sure enough, the doc was due on the links in,
    like, jig time, so he didn’t have a whole lot of time
    to mutter the platitudes. The woman was whining
    blue murder and he wanted to say,
    “You’ll