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It was in every newspaper in Whitehead come morning. The town had been attacked by what the reporters called ‘a gang of anarchists’ who had significantly damaged the properties of several of the town’s law enforcement officers. The reports all went on to say that two children between the ages of 10 and 12 have been injured in one of the attacks, as they had been spending the night in their living room instead of sleeping in their bedrooms, in order to observe the moon for their science class project. The explosive devices had been thrown through the window, sending glass and debris everywhere. Both children were in hospital and while they would recover, their injuries were not insignificant.
The town was in outrage at the attack that had harmed the children. Whitehead was a PIRA friendly town. The citizens didn’t appreciate the law enforcement officers they saw as English citizens telling them what to do. But this was different. This was children. No one hurt a child, and in an instant, the town had turned and they were defending the police officers. No one even mentioned the justice Sinead had received the night before because her rapist had been harmed. No one. The town was in uproar. But Mal still believed that his heart was in greater unrest.
He had been with Rage when that particular incident had gone down. And while she had been the one to throw the bomb into the house through the window, Mal still felt responsible. He had witnessed the shooting of a guilty man, and it had cause conflict in his soul. Now he was involved in the injury of innocent children. Did that make him deserving of the same punishment they had meted out to Arthur Collins?
Mal was still pondering these things when he was interrupted by a pounding on his door. Mal’s parents were out and Mal knew Francis would be laying low today. He decided he better answer it. He was shocked when he saw Ardal standing there, looking more than displeased. “Ardal!” Mal said, still glad to see the boy, despite everything and the stormy look on Ardal's face. Finally, someone sane.
Ardal, however, did not share Mal’s enthusiasm. In fact, he looked downright brassed off. “Tell me you had nothing to do with it.” He demanded without saying anything else, his jaw firm and his arms crossed. He looked like he was trying his hardest to be strong, but Mal could see through his façade. Still, he didn’t interrupt. He would let Ardal say his piece. “Please. I need you to tell me you had nothing to do with it.”
Ardal had never really brought up the PIRA with Mal before. It was just one of the topics they avoided. But Mal didn’t need to ask if that’s what Ardal was referring to. He knew. “I can’t tell you about that, Ardal…” He said, his voice regretful.
Ardal shook his head firmly. “Please…I have to know…”
“You know I can’t!” Mal insisted again. As a matter of fact, I should insist that on the record, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Off the record…I..Ardal, I…”
Ardal held up a hand and he shook his head. “I never believed you were capable of something like this. Those little kids!”
Mal couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t say that it was Rage and not him. He couldn’t say that he didn’t feel like he was capable of it anymore either. He couldn’t say that he did it for his brother. Everything he could say implicated someone else, and that wasn’t something Mal was willing to do. So instead, he sighed and he gave Ardal a look that was clearly defeatist. “Ardal, I can’t say anything more…”
Ardal’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head in dismay. “I thought you were changin’.” He said softly, his voice sounding like it was wavering. “But you’re exactly the same as you always were. All you care about is your quest and fuck anyone who gets in the way, right? It’s disgustin’. You're nothin' more than a thug. And I won’t have anything to do with it or you.” With that, Ardal turned on his head and he walked away from Mal, leaving the other boy standing there, looking hurt and hopeless.
Mal slammed the door, but it wasn’t so much in anger at Ardal. He didn’t blame Ardal at all; though it did hurt that Ardal couldn’t see that he HAD changed. No, Mal was angry at Rage and angry at Francis and mostly he was angry at himself. Little changes here and there weren’t enough. Ardal was right. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. Seeing the pain on Arthur’s face as they had doled out their punishment had proven that to Mal. And now innocent civilians had been caught in their crossfire and he couldn’t be a part of that anymore. Furthermore, knowing that Rage had killed her father meant Mal didn’t want to be with her either. And he missed Ardal. The second Ardal had left his doorstep, Mal wanted him back. He wanted to confide in Ardal and to laugh with him. Ardal made him feel like he was more than 'just a thug'. And now that was gone.
Everything was about to change. Mal was going to see to that, as sure as he had to continue to breathe.
The town was in outrage at the attack that had harmed the children. Whitehead was a PIRA friendly town. The citizens didn’t appreciate the law enforcement officers they saw as English citizens telling them what to do. But this was different. This was children. No one hurt a child, and in an instant, the town had turned and they were defending the police officers. No one even mentioned the justice Sinead had received the night before because her rapist had been harmed. No one. The town was in uproar. But Mal still believed that his heart was in greater unrest.
He had been with Rage when that particular incident had gone down. And while she had been the one to throw the bomb into the house through the window, Mal still felt responsible. He had witnessed the shooting of a guilty man, and it had cause conflict in his soul. Now he was involved in the injury of innocent children. Did that make him deserving of the same punishment they had meted out to Arthur Collins?
Mal was still pondering these things when he was interrupted by a pounding on his door. Mal’s parents were out and Mal knew Francis would be laying low today. He decided he better answer it. He was shocked when he saw Ardal standing there, looking more than displeased. “Ardal!” Mal said, still glad to see the boy, despite everything and the stormy look on Ardal's face. Finally, someone sane.
Ardal, however, did not share Mal’s enthusiasm. In fact, he looked downright brassed off. “Tell me you had nothing to do with it.” He demanded without saying anything else, his jaw firm and his arms crossed. He looked like he was trying his hardest to be strong, but Mal could see through his façade. Still, he didn’t interrupt. He would let Ardal say his piece. “Please. I need you to tell me you had nothing to do with it.”
Ardal had never really brought up the PIRA with Mal before. It was just one of the topics they avoided. But Mal didn’t need to ask if that’s what Ardal was referring to. He knew. “I can’t tell you about that, Ardal…” He said, his voice regretful.
Ardal shook his head firmly. “Please…I have to know…”
“You know I can’t!” Mal insisted again. As a matter of fact, I should insist that on the record, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Off the record…I..Ardal, I…”
Ardal held up a hand and he shook his head. “I never believed you were capable of something like this. Those little kids!”
Mal couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t say that it was Rage and not him. He couldn’t say that he didn’t feel like he was capable of it anymore either. He couldn’t say that he did it for his brother. Everything he could say implicated someone else, and that wasn’t something Mal was willing to do. So instead, he sighed and he gave Ardal a look that was clearly defeatist. “Ardal, I can’t say anything more…”
Ardal’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head in dismay. “I thought you were changin’.” He said softly, his voice sounding like it was wavering. “But you’re exactly the same as you always were. All you care about is your quest and fuck anyone who gets in the way, right? It’s disgustin’. You're nothin' more than a thug. And I won’t have anything to do with it or you.” With that, Ardal turned on his head and he walked away from Mal, leaving the other boy standing there, looking hurt and hopeless.
Mal slammed the door, but it wasn’t so much in anger at Ardal. He didn’t blame Ardal at all; though it did hurt that Ardal couldn’t see that he HAD changed. No, Mal was angry at Rage and angry at Francis and mostly he was angry at himself. Little changes here and there weren’t enough. Ardal was right. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. Seeing the pain on Arthur’s face as they had doled out their punishment had proven that to Mal. And now innocent civilians had been caught in their crossfire and he couldn’t be a part of that anymore. Furthermore, knowing that Rage had killed her father meant Mal didn’t want to be with her either. And he missed Ardal. The second Ardal had left his doorstep, Mal wanted him back. He wanted to confide in Ardal and to laugh with him. Ardal made him feel like he was more than 'just a thug'. And now that was gone.
Everything was about to change. Mal was going to see to that, as sure as he had to continue to breathe.
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