When I opened my eyes, it was to a dark room and the sound of beeping monitors.
Unsure of where the fuck I was, I automatically began to panic and tear at the wires strapped to my chest and arms.
There were some stuck up my nose, too, and I smacked at them, trying to break free.
My hands felt strange – like they didn’t belong to me.
My head felt the same.
My eyeballs were rolling around in my head of their own accord.
Seriously, I couldn’t get a handle on them.
I tried to focus, I tried real hard to make sense of my surroundings, but my eyes kept fluttering and the room was spinning.
Was I stoned?
Did Gibsie get me high?
That bastard…
“Johnny – it’s okay, son.” My father’s voice came from close by. “Don’t be pulling at your IV. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Da?”
“I’m right here, son.”
The sound of a c
“Da,” I croaked out, calming when I felt his warm hand cover mine. “Where am I?”
I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was close.
His voice was right there by my ear, making me feel safe.
His hand touched my forehead, brushing my hair back, just like he used to do when I was small.
“You’re in the recovery room, son.”
Jesus Christ, I was?
I could just about remember the ambulance ride to the hospital.
Everything was blurry.
And painless.
I had no pain.
Nothing.
“You had surgery, son,” my father explained.
“Fuck,” I croaked out. “Is my dick still there?”
“It’s still there,” Dad chuckled softly.
“And my balls?”
“Also there,” he mused. “All in working order.”
I exhaled a ragged breath. “Thank Jesus.”
“Do you remember the match last night?” he asked. “You were in a bad way, son.”
“I remember the girl,” I slurred. “Why’s everything dark?”
“Because you’re supposed to be sleeping,” my father told me. “It’s six o’clock in the morning. Still dark outside.”
“So, no lights anywhere?” I asked, confused. “They’re all gone?”
I heard his quiet laugh. “No lights for another few hours, Johnny.”
“You’re sure my dick’s still there?” I kicked my feet, but they weren’t being cooperative. “I really like my dick, Da. I’ll cry if it’s gone.”
“Most lads like that part of their anatomy, Johnny,” Dad chuckled. “And I promise it’s still there.”
“Check for me,” I mumbled, feeling woozy as fuck. “Just to make sure.”
I heard my father sigh heavily and then felt the covers being lifted from my body.
“All there, boyo,” he assured me before tucking the covers around me once more.
“It’s not working anymore, Da,” I groaned, feeling a huge surge of devastation fill my body. “I broke it.”
“The doctors fixed it,” he coaxed. “It’s back in working order again.”
“I can pull my dick again?”
“Yes, Johnny,” he laughed. “In a few weeks, you can pull it to your heart’s content.”
“My head’s all hazy, Da,” I slurred. “Everything’s warm and tingly… and I feel groggy as balls.”
“That’s the medication, Johnny. It’s making you drowsy,” he told me. “Go back to sleep and you’ll feel better in a little while.”
“How is he doing?” an unfamiliar voice asked, bringing with it a small flash of light and the sound of a door clicking.
“Talking out of his arse,” my father told the voice.
“Ah, that’ll be the morphine,” the voice mused, coming closer. “Try and get him to sleep. I’ll be back in an hour to do his obs.”
“Da, there’s a girl,” I announced when the door clicked again.
“I know, Johnny,” Dad said calmly. “That was your nurse.”
“No, no, no,” I slurred, shaking my head. “There’s a girl, Da. A girl.”
“Where son?”
“There’s a girl on the bus,” I slurred. “I need you to find her for me.”
“There’s no girl, pet,” Dad coaxed. “There’s no bus, either. You’re jacked up on morphine.”
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned. “Am I dying or something?”
“No, Johnny, love, you’re not dying.”
“Thank fuck,” I groaned. “‘Cause I wanna see that girl again.”
“Okay, Johnny. Just relax, buddy.”
“No, no, no, Da, I’m serious,” I slurred. “I think I love that girl.”
“Well, who’s this girl?”
“She’s a river,” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m keeping her, Da.”
“Okay, son,” he coaxed. “You keep the girl.”
“She makes my heart go, like, whoa.”
“Is that right?” he mused.
“So bad, Da,” I sighed. “Boom, boom, fucking boom.” I shook my head. “All the time.”
“Is he awake?” my mother’s voice filled my ears, followed by another flash of light and the sound of another door clicking.
“He’s something alright,” Dad chuckled.
“Johnny, love, it’s Mam.”
“Ma,” I slurred, feeling her hand touch my cheek. “Don’t be pissed.”
“I’m beyond pissed,” she sobbed. “You could have died.”
“She crying, Da?” I slurred, slapping at something touching my nose. “It’s because I had sex.” Smirking, I added, “A lot of sex.” I laughed to myself but it sounded funny. “Just kidding, Ma… no pussy for me.”
“Edel, love, he’s high as a kite,” I heard my father say. “He won’t remember a word of this. Best wait to give him the talk until he comes around properly.”
“The talk,” I groaned loudly. “All the fucking talks.”
“Johnny, love –”
“Sex is a beautiful thing,” I slurred. “When it’s between two blah fucking blahs.”
Mam laughed. “So, you do listen to me.”
“Ma!” I exclaimed. “You know the girl!”
“What girl, love?”
“My girl.” I slapped a hand against my nose, itching the scratch, or scratching the itch.
I didn’t know about anything anymore, but I felt fucking great.
“See, Da?” I slapped my chest. “Boom, fucking boom, boom.”
“What’s he talking about, John?”
“God only knows,” my father replied, sounding thoroughly amused. “But it’s the best entertainment I’ve had in years.”
“My dick works again, Ma,” I chuckle-slurred. “Da checked. My balls are there, too.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Ma muttered.
“It’s okay,” I cooed, mashing my lips together. “She’s sixteen now, and I’m –” I slapped my forehead. “Seventeen.”
“What are talking about, Johnny?”
“The fractions, Ma,” I groaned. “They’re closing in.”
“Fractions of what, love?”
“Not too much longer to wait.” I sighed. “Thank fuck, ’cause I’m in love.”
“You’re in love?”
I nodded happily. “And she’s a river.”
“Well that’s…lovely, pet,” Mam coaxed, sounding confused. “Good boy.”
“I’m gonna sail my boat down her river,” I snickered. “My dick boat.”
“Can they knock him back out?” Ma grumbled. “He’s going to give me a stroke with all this talk.”
“It’s okay, Ma,” I coaxed. “I’m gonna keep her, too. Make all my babies with her because my balls work– and Da says I can pull on my dick again. Woo!”
“John!” Mam gasped. “What have you been telling our son?”
Dad laughed. “He’s seventeen, Edel. It’s the first thing he’s going to ask about after a surgery like that.”
“Oh, dear Jesus,” Mam groaned.
“And I’m gonna buy her a ring…and a dog…and sail a boat…and I’m gonna look at her tits because I can.” I sighed in contentment. “She’s got the best tits, Da.”
“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice called out, followed by more light and more doors clicking. “How’s the patient?”
“Gerard,” Mam sighed happily.
“Gibs!” I called out, searching the room for my best friend and coming up empty. “Gibs, man. The fuck kind of drugs did you slip me?”
“He’s very…high right now, Gibs,” Dad explained. “Don’t take any notice of what he’s saying.”
“Is that right?” Gibsie chuckled. “Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”
“They fixed my dick, Gibs.” With a great deal of effort, I managed to hold a thumb up and wave my hand around aimlessly. “Happy days.”
“Woohoo,” Gibsie cheered, catching ahold of my hand. “Best news I’ve heard all year.” He squeezed my hand. “You know what that means, don’t ya?”
“Shifting jackets,” I slurred.
“Exactly,” Gibsie chuckled. “Soon as you’re back on your feet, I’ll have you out on the tiles.”
“Boys,” Mam chastised. “Gerard, don’t encourage him.”
“You get it, Gibs,” I slurred happily. “You get me.”
“I get you, buddy,” he coaxed, squeezing my hand. “Shouldn’t he be out still?”
“He should,” my father replied, sounding amused. “But the lad is as strong as an ox.”
“I’m a bull,” I slurred.
Gibsie snickered. “You’re a bull?”
Gibsie laughed. “Big working balls.”
“I’m gonna use that lube, Gibs,” I croaked out, twisting around to find him. “Hey – where’d you go?”
“I’m right here,” he told me, patting my head. “And I’ll buy you a big basket of it once we’re home.”
“You’re my best friend,” I told him, but he looked like a pillow. “I love your big, rugby ball head.”
Mam groaned. “Oh, Johnny.”
“Listen,” Gibsie said in a serious tone. “I brought a friend to see him.”
“You’re my friend,” I replied with a sigh. “My favorite, fucked-up friend.”
“I know I am, bud,” Gibsie coaxed, squeezing my hand. “And you’re mine.”
“A friend?” Mam questioned.
“Yeah, uh, she’s right outside.”
“You found her, Gibs!” I exclaimed. “Thank fuck. I thought I lost her.”
“I did, buddy,” Gibsie chuckled softly. “I brought Shannon back to you.”
“Shannon like the river,” I sighed contently.
“Shannon Lynch?” Mam exclaimed. “That’s who he’s rambling on about?”
“Oh, yeah,” Gibsie mused.
“What happened to being friends, Johnny?” Mam asked.
“I lied,” I snickered. “I’ve been lying all along.”
“Oh, Johnny,” Mam sighed. “You never had to lie, baby. I like that girl.”
“She’s mine,” I grumbled. “You can’t have her.”
Gibsie laughed loudly. “Everyone knows that, Cap.”
Twisting my head, I tried to find my father. “Da?”
“I’m still right here,” Dad assured me, squeezing my right hand.
“She’s the one,” I whispered, trying to eyeball him in the darkness. “With the perfect tits.”
“You saw her tits?” Gibsie asked.
I nodded happily. “Yep.”
“When?”
“When she was playing with my calculator,” I slurred. “I love her, Gibs. So much. Balls much.”
“I know you do,” Gibsie mused, patting my shoulder. “Bulldozer.”
I shrugged. “And I’m not even sorry.”
“Gerard, maybe you shouldn’t bring Shannon in here,” Mam said, sounding concerned. “He’s partial to say anything right about now.”
“No, no, no,” I grumbled, not feeling happy now. “I wanna see her.”
“Johnny, love, she can come visit when you’re more yourself –”
“Shannon?” I roared, calling out her name at the top of my lungs. “Shannon?”
“Let the girl in, Edel,” Dad mused. “He’s going to scream the place down like a toddler otherwise.”
“Shannon!”
“Oh Jesus, fine!” Mam muttered. “You better behave yourself, Johnathon.”
The sound of high heels clicking on tiles filled my ears, and then I was blinded in light.
A few moments passed by in hushed whispers.
And then I heard those two words.
“Hi, Johnny.”
“Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”
