Secrets And Styes

Chapter 28: The healing

It was definitely Dermot's trainer; I recognised the popular brand's

colour and shape still evident on the side of the mangled sole. Putting

my pistol on the floor, I held the pen in my left hand and Dermot's sole

in my right.

Looking from left to right, I noted the chewed top of the pen and

compared it to the bottom of Dermot's shoe, also chewed. The thought

of a possible correlation between the two put me right back on that

coaster.

I felt myself ascending, filling with fear. And not having Dad to

lean into, panic rose, making my body shake.

There was a small recess in the wall, and I shuffled into it. Leaning

back, the small space contained my tremble. I squatted on my hunkers,

put my head between my knees and waited, hoping the shake would

soon leave me.

A 'crunching' sound interrupted my shake – I knew what it was.

Looking up, I saw a black shoed foot on my pistol, its holy ammo

pooling outwards towards me from the broken barrel.

"Gerard is this yours?" asked my Uncle Jim, Aunt Margaret's

husband. He held my crushed pistol out to me.

I took it, "Yes, it's mine."

"I've stood on it, don't worry, I'll buy you another," he said, a look

of remorse on his face.

Jim was a kind man, always cheerful with a sunny disposition.

Seeing his guilt, I at once shot to his defence, "Don't worry, Jim, it's

my fault for leaving it there." His appearance soothed me, and my

shakes abated.

As I stepped out of the recess, Jim was bathed in light from the

window, which illuminated his deathly colour, "Jim, aren't you well?

Is that why you're here?" I asked. He shook his head, "I'm a bit shook,"

he replied. The resonance I had in his response spoke to me, "I was too,

I was shaking in that corner cos I stood on this, and you stood on my

pistol," I said, handing him Dermot's sole.

He took it from me, I noted a slight tremor in his hand, "Dermot's

had an accident alright."

I couldn't contain myself, "Is he dead?"

Jim's slight smile eased me, "No, he's not."

"Is he damaged?"

"He is that. How badly we won't know until the Doctor tells us."

"What happened?" I asked, eager to know everything.

Jim pointed over to a wooden bench by the window, "Let's sit

down."

"What's happened?" I repeated, anxious.

Jim sighed a mix of frustration and guilt, "I was off to work on the

Honda. Dermot heard the revving, and didn't he jump on the back of