Free The Devil by Ken Bruen

your
    Euros. T w o of his teeth were solid gold. In an Irish person,
    there w o u l d be simple gaps. He asked,
    ' A n d did you find one, a miracle?'
    H a r d to dishke h i m and I'd tried. I said,
    'I sure d i d . Today's the day y o u get to actually buy me a
    drmk.'
    He feigned hurt, but then said,
    'Sure, I just got me dole money and the allowance for the
    three dogs.'
    ' Y o u have dogs?'
    'Don't be an eejit. Jack.'
    We paid out for non-nationals to feed imaginary canines
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    and wouldn't pay our nurses. As Stewart had so delicately
    put it,
    ' Y o u do the math.'
    No doubt he had the sought-after medical card.
    We went to the Front Door, a pub I still have some
    affection for.
    Being contrary, we went in the back.
    Don't ask.
    I like it, despite the bouncers, those wannabe FBI eejits.
    Sign of the times, there was an actual school for bouncers
    in Salthill.
    A weekend course. Guess it only took three days to figure
    out h o w to kick the living shite outa some poor bastard and
    appear justified.
    It still managed to vaguely resemble the old pubs and I
    suppose that's as much as you can expect any more.
    We grabbed stools at the counter and a gorgeous girl
    approached, asked,
    ' C a z , what can I get you?'
    T w o pints of Guinness.
    She built them slow and easy, a real professional. W h e n
    she was done, the creamy head on those pints was a w o r k of
    art. Almost a shame to touch them.
    We did.
    C a z , toasting 'Slainte amach:
    H e ' d garnered enough Irish to w i n g the important stuff,
    like toasts, begging and false flattery.
    I went with 'Leat fein: (And yer o w n self.)
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    We put a serious dent in the pints, then he asked,
    'How^'ve you been?'
    Usually I went with the G a l w a y reply. ' G r a n d . '
    But the truth got in first, said,
    'Depressed.'
    He signalled the girl and she put two new ones under
    construction, said,
    'Depression is sadness gone riot.'
    I was floored. O u t of the mouths of babes.
    He continued,
    'Anyone w h o can describe depression exactly has never
    been there.'
    Paused, then,
    'Because it's beyond words.'
    Whatever the fuck was in those pints, he'd nailed it.
    H i s eyes went out of focus and he was somewhere else,
    said,
    ' M y mother, back in Romania, she was so sad. We didn't
    k n o w about depression so my father just beat her. She
    walked into the woods one day and we never saw her
    again.'
    The pints arrived. No money had yet changed hands. I
    clinked his glass, wanted to say. Sin an sceal is bronach.
    (That is the saddest story.)
    But I figured he already knew that.
    He snapped back, the artful dodger in play anew. But I
    went for it, asked,
    ' W o u l d a demon come after a person - personally?'
    Y o u can ask Romaniatis such things and not feel like a
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    horse's arse. Y o u ask an Irish person, they'd think you were
    talking about the Inland Revenue.
    He nodded, the cream from the fresh pint on his upper lip,
    said,
    ' O h yeah, first they attach themselves to your family,
    friends, then through them they claim y o u . '
    I asked the obvious.
    ' W h y ? '
    'A demon w i l l believe you spoilt some scheme they'd
    planned and the payback is your soul.'
    He gave a bitter laugh, said,
    'They seem especially fond of Catholics. The more lapsed
    the better.'
    Jesus Christ, I was afraid to admit the awesome truth of
    his words. As if sensing my distress, he abruptly changed
    tack, said,
    'Your friend Ridge took a bad beating, I hear.'
    I had to remind myself he had the ear of the Guards. He
    continued,
    'The assailant. . .'
    L o o k e d at me. I took a long swallow of the excellent pint,
    waited, then said,
    'Was of course charged, and is out on bail.'
    I already knew the answer but what the sweet fuck, I
    asked,
    'What w i l l happen?'
    He finished his pint in jig time, belched, said,
    'Slap on the wrist, claims of provocation and all the good
    legal argument, and mainly friends in high places.'
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    Then he asked the question