‘Same?’
‘Say-mm. Say-mm. Wee …’
‘We’rethe same?’
‘Wee say-mm.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘wearethe same. We always will be.’
Ronan lifted his hand, not quite able to reach mine, so I sat forward and held his.
‘And nothing,’ I said, ‘will ever change that.’
36
It was the first Monday of the Easter holidays and the McCoys had invited me to join their trip to Kilmare Forest Park. I knew how busy their mornings were because of the colour-coded schedule, but it was the things not on the schedule that seemed to make things the busiest: getting Ronan dressed, washed, teeth brushed, the ‘simple’ things. Things I hadn’t been around for and so hadn’t properly realised the efforts it took.
It was the first trip away from home they’d planned since Ronan’s accident; the nerves were definitely high with Mrs McCoy in the kitchen stuffing backpacks and filling a cool box with food and drinks. Mr McCoy was down the hall with Ronan getting him ready. I’d offered to help in the kitchen but Mrs McCoy was in a rhythm.
‘No, you’re fine, Brendan, maybe when all’s packed up you can give a hand with loading Matty’s motor when he gets here?’ she said.
I offered the same to Mr McCoy when he dashed quickly past the doorway.
‘Don’t worry your head, Brendan, Ronan and me have a wee morning routine worked out but he’s not playing ball right now; he’s not in a bad mood or anything, I think it’s more the excitement. He’s frisking about and not letting me get him dressed properly, the rascal. Sit yourself down. Is Emma getting you sorted with a cup of tea or something?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
As I sat there, feeling useless, listening to the bustling of Mrs McCoy in the kitchen and the mumbled voices of Mr McCoy and Ronan down the hall, a horn beeped outside.
Matty had pulled up at the end of the drive, leaning with his arm on the open window. He saluted me when I came out the front door.
‘Well, Brendan, bucko, powerful day for a drive to Kilmare,’ he said, squinting up into the clear sky. ‘You’ve this motor well spruced.’
‘Was there a hen party in it on Saturday night or what? There was glitter everywhere, flippin’ nightmare.’
‘Aye, hen party on a pub crawl, my ears are still ringin’,’ he said, climbing out and lighting up a cigarette.
‘They’re running a bit behind but won’t be long,’ I said.
‘Not a bother,’ he said, exhaling smoke. ‘I’m in no rush, yous’ll be a blessin’ compared to Saturday night’s rabble, even if your wee friend starts his laughin’ the way he did yon time I did that school run for him I wouldn’t mind. How’s he doin’?’
‘Aye, he’s doing a million times better these days, Matty, you’ll not believe the change in him.’
‘Ah well that’s powerful, especially after all he’s been through.’ He took another drag of his cigarette, squinting in the sun.
‘Right, I’d better run in and give them a hand,’ I said.
‘Not a bother, Brendan, I’ll get the ramp down so it’s good to go. Tell them don’t be rushin’.’
When I stepped back inside Mr McCoy was wheeling Ronan up the hallway.
‘Well, Ronan,’ I said, happy to finally see him.
‘Brah-din,’ he said and emitted a giant laugh.
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ I said. ‘Hold on! Ronan, did you just say my name?’
‘Brah-din! Brah-din!’ he said through more laughter.
