Free Notes from a Coma by Mike McCormack Page A

there was no mention of that in any of her letters and he was beginning to get the feeling he didn’t figure so much in her plans any more. And of course he was taking it hard. Most of JJ’s friends would’ve had flings with these American students and most were glad to see the back of them when they returned to the States in late May. But Owen wasn’t like that. He was seriously lovestruck and visibly pining. If you got him on his own with a few drinks on him it was nothingbut Mary G this and Mary G that and Mary G the next thing. When he joined us that evening he was very down in himself.
    We had a few drinks together and tried to cheer him up, but by closing time, he was no happier than when he came in. We were standing outside the chipper and JJ was making ready to walk me home. One look at Owen and my heart went out to him, I didn’t want him going off on his own. I suggested we go back to the chalet; it was only just after twelve, there was bound to be some drink lying around. The two boys were up for it—with a few pints on them they had a lip for more drink.
    The chalet is just back the road near to the pier. Dad rents it out in the summer so it’s always a good bet for having a few bottles lying around. I remember as we walked in the gate the outside light came on. JJ swore.
    “I hate it when it does that,” he said. “No one asked it to do that.” *
    Sure enough there was loads of drink in the kitchen: a half-bottle of vodka in the cupboard, a bottle of wine on the worktop and a couple of cans in the fridge. But Owen wasn’t interested in the cans or the wine. He’d found a bottleof Wild Turkey at the back of the cupboard and he took it with a pint glass into the sitting room. JJ reminded him he had an early start in the morning.
    “Fuck the start,” Owen said. “Let’s see how wild this turkey really is.” He tipped a third of the bottle into the pint glass and I knew then he was going to drink himself into oblivion.
    “Jesus, this knee.” Owen winced and shoved JJ to the end of the couch with his boot. “Push over till I stretch out this leg.” He bent forward to massage his knee. “Peter better get the clutch adjusted on his tractor or I won’t be able to walk the rest of the summer.”
    We talked and drank for about an hour, Owen firing back the whiskey and getting steadily drunker, myself and JJ sharing an armchair across from him.
    We fell quiet then, fatigue and the lateness of the night getting the better of us. Owen was leaning off the end of the couch, shading his eyes with his hand and nursing the glass on his knee. JJ was smoking away beside me, lost in his own thoughts. It was just the sort of mood for thinking out loud and of course JJ couldn’t let it pass.
    “Suppose you found out your life was an experiment,” he said, to no one in particular. “Someone else’s experiment.”Owen groaned. “Not this shite this hour of the night.”
    “I’m only saying,” JJ said.
    “No you’re not. This is the old story, the world versus JJ O’Malley.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    I could feel JJ rising to the hint of an argument. I tried to head it off. “Don’t butt heads with him, Owen. You know how he is.”
    “Yeah, Owen, I’m the one with the horns, remember.”
    Owen turned over on his side and settled his leg under him. “OK,” he said, “it just so happens that I’m in the mood for a row. Bring on the prosecution. Who’s at the head of the queue tonight, JJ?”
    Fatigue and annoyance had emboldened Owen. I had never seen him squaring up to JJ before.
    “Go on,” he said. “This court is now in session, the Honourable Sarah Nevin presiding.”
    JJ leaned forward in the chair. There was no stopping him now. “He comes up to you in the street, someone you’ve never met before. He offers to buy you a drink …”
    I raised a hand. “I thought this fella stood for the prosecution.”
    “It goes towards motive, Your Honour.”
    “We haven’t all night, counsel, get