Danger Zone

Danger Zone
By Hasan Shabbaz

Paddy felt the pangs of hunger in his body. He had just

woken from a drunken stupor dressed in dirty knee length

trousers and a soiled T-shirt. He felt a warmth in himself

In spite of his hunger. The Derry Job Centre seemed to be

okay the other day. That reminded him of his giro. He dug

his muddy fingers into his trouser pockets and felt panicky

when he could find no money.

The photograph on his wall was of his last job. He could

not recognize himself in the picture. Everyone seemed so

happy and confident. This euphoria of job satisfaction

seemed likely to go on forever until one of the deputy

managers had a row with a senior manager. From then on

there were unexplained bangs and thuds until just last

summer the senior manager was shot dead repeatedly outside

his home in front of a screaming wife and kids.

The media and the authorities blamed the IRA while the whole

store blamed the deputy manager and hounded him out

with the ritual abuse of staring, stalking and sex

allegations.


Mr. Rockwell resigned, of course. He did not have a large

family so he was able to adjust to a new life outside

Londonderry in Dublin, Eire. However he had a thorn in his

family who could not settle for the comforts and quiet of

suburban Dublin. Damian was known as the ’chief of

Darkness’ in his new surroundings. He felt bitter and sad

at the treatment given to his father, more so than his

father felt for himself. His black mane of hair and dark

brown eyes added to his aura of fear that he instilled in

anyone who dared to be a bully in his school. When he went

in the customary winter smog, he simply strolled along while

others squirmed and crawled home in fear.

* * * * *


Paddy looked dotingly on at the picture on the window sill.

A sudden bang on the door awakened him to the present and he

fumbled to the door.

Recker Stoner threw open the door as soon as Paddy unlocked

it. The tramp squealed for mercy and fell onto the floor.

He struggled to get up but Mr. Stoner kicked him in the

mouth so hard that he fell back with a trickle of deep red

blood oozing onto the floor.

‘Please, please, please, please…..no . .no’ Paddy begged his

Landlord.

‘You haven’t paid the rent.’ Mr Stoner roared his warning

onto his tenant.

‘Can’t help it sir….I..I was bad for the past…’

‘Like you have, you bastard.’ Mr. Stoner raised his voice

to a huge volume and screamed: ‘Why don’t you pay the

Rent?’

‘I am sorry. I am sorry.’

Suddenly the landlord let out a huge roar and snatched a

chain with a picture of a young girl.

Paddy wailed for mercy. ‘Please sir, please, please. She

was my daughter. My only daughter. Please don’t do this.’

But even words could not save the tramp from his fate.

Recker Stoner immediately grabbed the poor man and kicked

iim hard and relentlessly.

* * * * *


Londonderry on a winter’s day. Recker stormed into his

Employer’s office and fondled the nearest girl he could

find. She was only nineteen compared to his fifty years,

but the man believed in the maxim: ‘All women are fair

play.’ The girl squirmed in terror to his hands on her

rear, but everyone in the office was so busy that not a

single complaint was made nor was the girl allowed to remain

in her post due to her ‘lewd’ behavior.


Recker sat down with a strong mug of coffee on his table.

He reached for the morning post but he began to feel tight

in his collar. He quickly tried to open it but it seemed

fastened to his skin. His eyes took on a greenish tinge,

and he seemed to float in his chair.

‘I say, Reck. Did you have a punch of whisky too much?’

Demia shouted this out so that he could hear properly. She

followed this up with a very coarse laughter.

Recker dropped his bulky head low in agony over the hard

grey merciless desk. He was whispering swear words while

making an effort to scream abuse.

‘Calm down will ya’ she said. ‘You been hot and angry with

us all day. You may as well rest.

‘Go……….to …………hell’.

‘Tipsy? Shame on ya’

Recker pulled his hand forward to a glass of water, and this

seemed to revive him. He soon returned to his normal

self and resumed his work.

He seemed to be enjoying it until one of the sales

executives was found not to have reached his weekly target.


* * * * *

That day at about six, the offices closed and all the

employees left the premises with a sigh of relief. Recker

however, was in a jubilant mood after remembering his

encounter with that young office girl. He happily mused

to himself if he could test her patience again.

He looked around but saw only the cleaners arrive and

wondered if she were one of them.
* * * * *


Damian came home from work and flung his door open with a

hard push. Oblivious to the sound it made, he tossed his

anorak onto the bed and sank into an armchair with a feeling

of despondency. Sinking his hands into his jet black hair,

he sat in one place and wept.

He heard the growl of the cars outside his flat and the

bangs and thuds of the doors being shut. He forced himself

to have some tea and began to read the history of the

Spanish Civil War. The book seemed to lighten his mood.

After an hour of reading he felt better and decided he would

have something for dinner. Very soon, the sounds of the

traffic was as loud as ever.

He went on with reading the history book, and all those

accounts of how some Republicans were forced into lunacy and

Then forgotten in jail only to die, gave him something to

survive the constant noise.



His bad temper returned and he suddenly ran out to the

street with a revolver where he fired a gunshot at the cars.

The traffic suddenly roared away, and he fled back inside,

slamming the door again. This time he slapped his head in

despair and wept a little.

His father had recently died and his mother had deserted him

for a much wealthier family. ‘If you could see me now dad.’

he said to the ceiling. With a prayer added to this he went

sleep and returned to work next morning.

That evening the fog in Derry was yellowing. It choked most

people as they went on home. Damian felt a chill in his

spine as he returned home from work whenever he bumped into

someone he did not know.

Tania, his school friend embraced him warmly on meeting him

and accompanied him home. Her embrace was more like a tight

clench of a fist, but he thrilled to it all the same.

‘So you were okay?’ he asked her as soon as he entered his

home with her.

‘Was worried for you duck.’

‘What happened? Why are your eyes wet?’

‘I am tired.’

‘Get to bed and sleep then. You’re wasting.’

She obeyed with a longing look at him, and went to sleep

sulking. Damian joined her later. ‘Say babe.’ he said, you

ain’t the killing type.’


* * * * *




Recker woke up in a jubilant mood. He helped himself

to a bottle of champagne and sat down gloating over what he

planned to do next with that ‘paddy’ wench. He jumped

suddenly when the mail arrived like a bullet through the

door. He had been waiting for the mail in high expectations

of some good news.

He opened one of the letters and found the contents

Hilarious. His employer had written:


“Due to the numerous complaints the management of this

Company have received, we find it necessary to dismiss you.”


No more was written. Recker fell over laughing so much that

writhed on the floor.

But soon the ill feeling returned. Thoughts of the mortgage

his property clouded over him as did many others about his

pet hate, the Roman Catholic church.

‘Bah, time to take out a paddy.’ he thought shrugging and

went out on just such a mission. His car soon screamed with

fury as he sped lethally along the streets of Londonderry.

He soon reached a suburb that had open spaces and large

plentiful shops. He made sure he accelerated and on doing

so, the shop fronts transformed into a cascade of oncoming

walls of concrete and the bystanders changed into a race of

over curious aliens.

In a split second, there was a loud explosion and a

Correspondingly large fireball. From the Bella Donna café

Where the explosion could first be seen, a young man ran

out and called for the RUC. Of course he had to point out

that the unfortunate man was a respected landlord. This

ensured the speedy arrival of the Ambulance and media too.

When all the formalities were over, and the driver was

recognized as indeed a wealthy landlord by the name of

Recker Damon, the young man returned to the café and

bought a fresco to celebrate.

Damian poured down the drink with a satisfied grin.



FIN




Copyright by Hasan Abdulla, 02/2006.