Rolling with it

Brian unlocked the back door of the shop quickly and slid inside like a shadow along the wall. Once behind the door he locked it again and breathed easy. Mornings were safer, but still you had to be careful. As his old granny used to say, being cautious can save you a lot of trouble. And he had been cautious, all his life, this had ensured that he was now older than she was when she died.

He had been thinking a lot about her recently. Ever since he realised that now he was older than her, older than the most influential person in his life, and he felt he did not know a quarter of what she did.

Oh well! Brian shook his head chasing the old woman away and turned on the bright neon lights. He called them neon, but all of them were energy saving LED lights, so powerful that the shop felt too bright for a few moments until his eyes adjusted.

He thoroughly enjoyed the bright, locked in, quiet mornings, when it was just him walking about the aisles, sorting what needed arranging, taking out stuff, getting ready for the day.

He liked this unwinding feeling, with the day spreading its limbs all over the city, a new day, a new dawn, every moment a new beginning. He had begged for months to be just on the morning shift, he hated the evening one, too busy and so dangerous, he felt drained physically and mentally after that one. He was just too old for all that!

While he was half stuck in a shelf packing it with fresh bread, Brian heard an unexpected knock on the glass door in front. He ceased all movement, as if frozen, waiting to see if it will repeat itself or he was just imagining things. A moment passed and the knock, turned into a loud bang followed by some yelling, could be heard again.

With his heart beating rapidly, Brian silently extracted himself from the shelf, and went quickly behind the counter to look at the screen for the camera monitoring the front of the shop. He fumbled for his glasses and then approached his face to the screen to see what was happening.

‘WTF?!’, on the screen Brian could recognize one of those gang lads that sometimes came in all noisy and arrogant, behaving like the world owed them everything.

‘Punks!’, Brian muttered under his breath trying to contain the feeling of dread that was growing inside him.

On the small monitor, he could see the young man repeatedly banging on the door with his fists and feet yelling for the door to open.

‘When Hell freezes over my young Fifty Shades of Grey punk!’, Brian used to call them that because of their grey, ugly tracksuits that they all wore as if some kind of uniform.

‘Somebody will call the guards soon enough!’, Brian told himself as he became really small under the counter.

Then something changed, the guy outside sat down next to the wall and seemed to be sobbing.

Drawn out by curiosity, Brian went to peek through the window. As soon as he was next to it, like a prey animal the young man jumped right in front of him, and through the window started to point to the door asking him to open it, all the while making threatening gestures.

Brian watched on terrified.

* * *

When the baby started to cry Rorry was dreaming he had won the lotto and he was off to Lanzarote with his mates. He could almost feel the sun on his skin when his mother joined her screams to the baby’s crying.

‘Wake up Rorry! Rorryyyy! Wake up!’

The older she got her voice seemed to become more powerful.

‘One of these days’, he muttered to himself, ‘one of these days!’

The crying got closer and then he heard the door slam open and the calls picked up again.

‘Rorry wake up! Where are the nappies I told you to buy? I looked everywhere!’, her voice was hot with irritation.

Oh no! He completely forgot, or to be honest he did not want to remember! What if somebody saw him a bag full of nappies, they would think he was a joke and the lads would never let him forget it.

He turned to face her and took on his sweetest voice.

‘Oh mam! I am so sorry! I did not get the time!’, he knew better than to say he had forgotten.

But it did not work, she exploded anyway!

‘You did not get the time??? You ungrateful little monster! You have the baby, she bolts and I am left caring for him, and you do not get the time to buy a bag of nappies? But I do get the time to work, mind the baby, keep this place up! Ahhh…’

His mam’s face had gotten all red and it was obvious she was making great efforts not to say or do something she might regret. Mairead was known on the entire street as having one hell of a temper. There were times his dad had slept on the small porch, because she would not let him drunk inside the house. The old man did not drink anymore, and one relaxed, nostalgic evening, he had confessed to Rorry that had it not been for his Mairead keeping him in some sort of normalcy, he would be dead in a bog somewhere.

‘You will go get those nappies now, you hear!’

‘But maaa..’

‘Don’t you ‘but’ me! You go now! And better be back quickly cause I don’t have all night! Some of us have to work!’

Her tone did not leave room for any replies. Rorry got out of bed, pulled his grey tracksuit on and went outside in the dark night. He got on his bike and started roaming the streets looking for a place that would be open and have nappies.

The air was cool and the night clear. In the distance a bell signaled the time, Rorry checked his phone, 4am, something must be open for sure. But nothing was. Bit by bit hope drained out of him and he started to have fantasies about breaking a shop window and getting in, snatching the nappies and then, quick as lighting, get back home where his mam would be so pleased with him!

Before having to resort to that though he got to Moore Street and here, behind the drawn blinds he could see light on in the All-in-one-place shop.

Yaba-daba-doo!

He jumped off his bike and started banging on the glass door, not for one second thinking that this might not be the best means to get what he wants.

When the white, furry face of the old man appeared behind the blind, Rorry saw him and pounced, he was sure the terrified old man will do what ever he wanted.

* * *

They stood there, Brian frozen into place, like a statue behind the thick glass pane, Rorry screaming and gesticulating like a madman. Minutes felt an eternity and then, when Rorry ran out of energy and fell like a lump next to the window crying, Brian somehow found the courage and opened the little night hatch and whispered out.

‘Are you ok?’, the words seemed like the rustle of leaves in the wind, but Rorry heard them and between sobs he replied.

‘I just need some nappies please … please …’

Professionalism took Brian over.

‘Sure, for what age?’, seemingly unphased by the surrealism of their situation Brian went got the nappies, gave Rorry the change and then after securely locking the hatch went back to his statue like position watching through the glass.

Riding away with the nappies safely tucked under his top, Rorry waved a short thank you! There is a chance that she might still be pleased with him, he was thinking while speeding home.

Brian went back to putting bread on the shelf wondering what would his granny make of all this situation. He could almost hear her say ‘Weirder things have happened!’

Brian smiled to himself.

‘Yeah, maybe…’