Jackie Walsh
From the porch, the two men listened to the thundering bass of rumbling trucks on journeys north and south along the Dan Ryan Expressway. To the west, Halsted teased out the melodies of car horns beeping and tires squealing, a harsh cacophony of symphonic summer street noises.
They smoked their tobacco.
The Bar
The man picked up the tumbler, downed the whiskey in one swallow and slammed the glass on the glistening mahogany. He shuddered. “That did the trick.” His black eyes moved to the bartender, shoving his glass towards him. “But that ain’t Jameson’s, ace. Don’t try that again.”
The Boy From Clonakilty
All Ireland hated the Black and Tans and the cruelty they brought with them. But this lieutenant. The boy bore his own special hatred for reasons of his own.
He raised the Enfield, tucked it into his right shoulder. He adjusted the sights onto the officer for the shot, the bold shot he was about to take.
Killer
Connor smiled…. “Ye made a mistake, lad. A dire one, I’m afraid. Ye ran into a fella like me. Too bad for you.
“We have police business with this young man. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
The Real Thing
“You want a real drink? Coke. A nice Coca- Cola.”
“What if Coke was still The Real Thing?”
“Dr Pepper definitely would not have cocaine in it.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mickey turned and raised his eyebrows to him. “She smokes.” He inhaled from the depths of his belly, smiling, closing his eyes. “Smell that? What you think she does with those ashes?”
Darkness
“You alright?” asks the cop.
I try again. It’s harder and harder to breath. My chest.
“I can’t breathe. My sternum. It’s bursting out of my chest.” I lean on his car.
“Whoa there, fella, I just got it washed.”
“Please. Help me.”
The cop laughs. “Looks like you’re dying.” He stretches his arms back with a yawn, then straightens his hat. “Time for me go.”
“No.” Another gasp.
The Bog
Finn placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder and squeezed. “I wish there was another way, Michael. I do. But this is best for you. And us, o’course. A hunter best hunts alone. You’ll be a better man for it when ye come home.”
The Coffee Shop
“You know.” The stranger winked. “I mean, what if you pissed someone off bad. I mean really bad. And they wanted it taken care of? In a coffee shop? Say, this one? At,” he looked at his watch, then looked up smiling. “One o’clock and thirty-five seconds.” He laughed. “And the guy to do it was supposed to be me? Weird, huh?”
A Small Café in Paris
He looks at the glass. He looks at the waitress. Two miserable cubes float in an inch of water. Water from the melted ice. Water with floating black specks in it. He is afraid to ask for more ice. Fear keeps him from drinking the water. And watered-down Pepsi will not do. He drinks the water, despite his fear. He does not want watered-down Pepsi. He pours the Pepsi. The ice melts.
Christmas is a time for giving, being with family and friends, and hating every other asshole out there in the shops and on the roads also trying to spread joy and share in the Christmas spirit. Similarly, Hanukkah is a time for Jewish people to desperately try to feel relevant during Christmastime.