Read Online A Mad and Wonderful Thing by Mark Mulholland - Free Book Online Page B

some thinking. He couldn’t have been more wrong — with just one statement he was wrong twice. All a man needs to do to see the world or to do some thinking is to take a walk around the corner. If you took a slow walk around the town of Dundalk you’d meet all of existence. They think they can teach anything in colleges; they think they can bring a man to college and send him home a poet. How mad is that?’
    We rest for a time and watch as slow clouds drift across the sky, and the light travels along the mountains.
    â€˜I don’t think college is for me,’ I continue. ‘Many enter as lambs and leave as sheep. I couldn’t do that.’
    I see that Cora watches me, and I know thinking is going on in that pretty head of hers.
    â€˜So what will you do next year, after school?’ I ask, rising again and sitting beside Cora on the coat.
    â€˜College. Belfast or Dublin. I’m not sure which yet.’
    â€˜Does it matter?’
    â€˜Not really. I think I’d prefer Dublin. And I could stay with Aisling; she’s already in college there. I’d love to live a while with Aisling.’
    â€˜What will you study?’
    â€˜Irish.’
    â€˜Irish? Why Irish?’
    â€˜I love it. I want to teach. Don’t you like Irish, Johnny?’
    â€˜Not really. I don’t know. I never really bothered, I suppose. I had that madman Hogan for a teacher, and it all left a bad taste.’
    â€˜Well, we’ll have to fix that.’
    â€˜Okay.’
    â€˜Let’s start at the beginning.’
    â€˜ Bonjour ’.
    â€˜Shut up. Let’s count.’
    â€˜Okay.’ I grimace in concentration. ‘ Eins . Zwei . Drei .’
    â€˜Shut up. Repeat after me, Donnelly.’
    â€˜ A haon .’
    â€˜ A haon .’
    â€˜ A dó .’
    â€˜ A dó .’
    â€˜ A trí .’
    â€˜ A trí .’
    â€˜ A ceathair .’
    I reach for her, pulling her to me and taking her down onto the open overcoat. I kiss her mouth, moving my hand to the small of her back, spreading my fingers on the soft wool of her pullover, pressing to her shape. I feel her take my head with both hands, allowing me to hold her tight. I kiss her hard, feeling her slide to me, her body fast to mine.
    â€˜Thanks,’ I whisper. ‘That was much tastier, I must admit.’
    â€˜I should hope so.’
    â€˜So you should, Cora. That fecker Hogan was a dreadful kisser.’
    After a while Cora sits up and begins to recite a poem. In our two weeks together I have noticed that she does this kind of thing. And I like it.
    I recognise the verse, and repeat a line when she is finished, ‘“The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.” That’s a fine poem, Miss Flannery. A fine poem. I never could figure out what it meant, though.’
    â€˜Isn’t it a beautiful thing, Johnny? And what’s beautiful doesn’t need figuring out. It just is.’
    â€˜You are right there, Flannery. Well said,’ I respond. ‘“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”’
    â€˜Is that another Plato quote?’
    â€˜Not Plato, no, but another of the great masters: Mary Poppins. Now I have a poem for you. Have you ever heard of the child poet John Francis Donnelly?’
    â€˜Nope.’
    â€˜Well, hear him now, baby. It’s called “The Blackbird”. Are you ready?’
    â€˜Ready, steady,’ she says. ‘Off you go.’
    Blackbird, Blackbird, cannot you see,
I left the breadcrumbs out for thee.
Blackbird, Blackbird, you are too slow,
Now they got eaten by the crow.
    I deliver the lines confidently, and when I finish I turn to her. ‘There you are, Flannery,’ I say. ‘That’ll give your fella Yeats a run for his money.’
    Cora shakes her head and laughs. ‘What is that about?’
    â€˜That, Cora, is about the whole damn thing.’
    We stretch out on the Dunn & Co