The Runners by Fiachra Sheridan Read Free Book Online Page A

fight. He did everything Anto told him. Kept his composure, kept using his jab. He knew he would win after the first thirty seconds. He was able to avoid the punches thrown at him with ease. He landed some brilliant punches that had all the Ballybough boys cheering.
    Anto wanted you to fight a particular way. If you went off the script, he went mad. He knew what it took to win fights. Jay decided not to listen to Anto. He came out of his corner all guns blazing. Everyone in the hall could hear the bollocking Anto gave him after the first round. Jay listened and won the next two rounds without trying to knock his opponent out with one punch. He avoided the punches thrown at him, and landed most of the ones he threw.
    Anto was proud of all the boxers. He hated losing more than anything. All but one of the Dublin boxers won, but what Anto focused on was Jay’s behaviour. He talked about listening and discipline. Bobby knew what he meant. All successful sportsmen were disciplined. Bobby knew he had what it took to become a champion.
    ‘Bobby, are you ever going to go to sleep?’
    ‘I’m not tired.’
    ‘It’s half two in the morning. And you’re watching shite on the telly.’
    Bobby had come up with a simple tactic. Stay awake all night. His eyes grew heavier and heavier. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge. He felt himself drifting off to the place that caused him more pain than anything else in the world. Bobby never woke when he started peeing, only when the last drop came out did he feel himself lying in a puddle. Even though the bed was bigger than anything he had ever slept in, Bobby could still feel Jay’s presence beside him. He hung on to the side of the bed, hoping if he did pee, that it would be as far away from Jay as possible.
    As usual, Bobby woke on his back, with the puddle beneath him. The clock beside him said it was twenty past four in the morning. He took his pyjamas off and hid them in his bag.
    He snuck into the bathroom and took one of the big bath-towels down from its peg. He wrapped it around himself and took the other one down. He folded it in four and tried to place it gently over the wet patch. He looked at Jay’s eyes, which were closed. The towel covered the offending area. Bobby lay back down on top of it and pulled the duvet over him. Jay didn’t budge. In the thousands of times Bobby had wet the bed, he had never done it twice in one night. The thickness of the towels stopped any of the liquid penetrating through. Bobby stayed awake, dreaming of the day God would give him the ability to stay dry.
    One thing Bobby knew was that Jay wasn’t thick. He didn’t know, or care, what certain words meant, but that didn’t make you thick. Pee smelled. And Jay could smell it. Jay looked at the towels. All Bobby could picture was Jay calling him a piss-in-the-bed.
    Jay pulled the towel back and stared at the yellow patch. He turned to Bobby and smiled.
    ‘I won’t tell Angela.’
    ‘Piss off, I don’t fancy her.’
    ‘I pissed in the bed for a while when I was younger.’
    ‘How did you stop?’
    ‘I just grew out of it.’
    ‘My ma says I will too.’
    ‘Of course you will, when you grow up! Don’t worry about it, hurry up and get in the shower.’
    Bobby showered for as long as Jay would let him.
    ‘There’ll be no hot water left.’
    ‘It’s a hotel, they have unlimited hot water.’
    Bobby loved the feeling of a hot shower on his skin. If he had a shower in his house, it would make his life so much easier.
    They sat on top of Ballybough Bridge facing Croke Park, with their trophies and cans beside them. There was a set of traffic lights on the brow of the hill. When they saw the 23 bus coming, Bobby pressed the button. The lights turned orange and then red. As soon as the bus came to a stop, they pulled down their trousers and showed their backsides to whoever was on the bus.
    Willo was crossing at the lights. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a hammer.