Free Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle Page A

didn’t have sixpence to give them—I thought it up—but they brought in the money on Monday. Aidan cried when we kept saying it.
    Henno was in charge of the projector. He thought he was great. He stood beside it like it was a Spitfire or something. The projector was on a table at the back of the hall, in the middle between the rows of seats. For a dare when the lights were turned off, we crawled out into the aisle and got up a 67 bit and made shapes with our hands in the path of light that the projector made; the shape - usually a dog barking—would go up on the screen on the stage at the top of the hall. That was the easy part. The hard bit was getting back to your seat before they turned the lights back on. Everyone would try to stop you, to keep you trapped in the aisle. They’d kick you and stand on your hands when you were crawling under the seats. It was brilliant.
    —Take out your English copies, said Henno.
    We waited.
    — Anois 10
    We took them out. All my copies were covered in wallpaper that our Auntie Muriel had left over when she was doing her bathroom and she gave my da about ten rolls of it.
    —She must have thought she was going to be papering the Taj Mahal, he said.
    —Ssh, said Ma.
    I’d used a plastic stencil for the names. Patrick Clarke. Mister Hennessey. English. Keep Out.
    —These rows, here and here, said Henno.—Bring your copies with you. Seasaígí suas. 11
    When we got to the hall we gave our copies to Henno and he put them under the front legs of the projector so the picture would hit the screen bang on.
    The teachers stood at the side and went Shh all through the films. They leaned against the wall in twos and threes and smoked, some of them. Only Miss Watkins patrolled around but she never caught anyone cos we would see her head on the screen when she was coming up the aisle.
    —Get out of the way!
    —Get out of the way!
    If it was a sunny day outside we could see hardly anything on the screen because the curtains on the windows weren’t thick enough. We cheered when a cloud got in the way of the sun and we cheered when the sun came back out. Sometimes we just heard the film. But it was easy to tell what was happening.
    It always started with two or three Woody Woodpeckers. I could do Woody Woodpecker’s voice.
    —Stop that! a teacher would say.
    —Shhh!
    But they gave up early. By the time Woody Woodpecker was finished and The Three Stooges came on most of the teachers weren’t in the hall any more, just Henno and Mister Arnold and Miss Watkins. My Woody Woodpecker hurt the back of my throat but it was worth it.
    —I know that’s you, Patrick Clarke.
    We could see Miss Watkins squinting in at us but she couldn’t see anything.
    —Do it again.
    I waited till she was looking straight at us, then I did it.
    —WAA-CAH-CAH-CAH-CEHHH-CUH—
    —Patrick Clarke!
    —It wasn’t me, Miss.
    —It was the bird in the picture, Miss.
    —Your head’s in the way, Miss.
    —Hey; you can see Miss’s nits in the light!
    She went down to Henno at the projector but he wouldn’t stop it for her.
    —WAA-CAH-CAH-CAH-CEHHH-CUH—
    I loved The Three Stooges as well. Sometimes it was Laurel and Hardy but I preferred The Three Stooges. Some of the fellas called them The Three Stoogies but I knew it was Stooges because my da told me. We could never tell what the story was about in their films; there was too much noise and, anyway, all they ever did was beat each other up. Larry and Moe and Curly, that was their names. Kevin poked my eyes the way the Stooges did it - we were in the field behind the shops, all of us—and I couldn’t see for ages. I didn’t know about that at first because of the pain; I couldn’t open my eyes. It was like all the headaches I used to get; it was like the headaches you got when you ate ice-cream too fast; it was like being hit with a soft branch across the eyes. I had my hands covering my eyes and I wouldn’t take them down. I was shaking the way my sister,