Sonny Strange PDF

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Sonny Strange

A Motivational Memoir in Minor

Noel Farrell

Published by JaSE Publications

Copyright 2011 Noel Farrell

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may be given

away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

please do so.


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Chapter 1

My son went back to school this morning. Harry is nine now. Seems like onlyyesterday I was whipping off his umbilical cord, not even sure if he was mine or not.He had a slight smile heading out the door. It made me wonder when that smile might

disappear in the years ahead.The sun shone a blaze, which I found just typical after a forgettable summer. I

wished he could wear what he wanted to school. All kids are unique, why do we try tomake them the same?

It makes me think about where I was years ago when it was all boom. Now it's allbust. The recession only ever made me think one-way. It was a chance to get back alife I had lost somewhere, sometime ago.

Earlier today, I was having another of those 'what if ' sessions I do have every nowand again. What if Ireland was a cultural hub to the masses of the world? A nirvana offree-thinkers, capable of intellectual debate. A place where our differences wererecognized and accepted. A place where day and night were words no more. In a land

where you slept where you pleased, and at a time of you're choosing. In a place whereeducation didn't seem like a chore, but more of a longing. A place where equalopportunity existed for all. A place where exploration into all was law, and notchallenges people never face, however much they want.

Idealistic nonce, as my Pops would say.Alas, as far as it has taken me to date is damp community halls, filled with the

beaten souls of the land. A six-date tour on the motivational circuit. Rain filled skiescovering most places I went. Doing little for the scene. I should have known. Even myoverseer, Sammy, didn't pay me. Well, not yet anyway.

Harry returned home a little after three. I noticed his lunchbox was empty. Nohomework either. Good times. He sat on my lap.

I want to be a stand-up comic Dad, he said.You can be anything you want, I said, before we absconded out into the sun, and I

gave him the pleasure of a solitary goal in a 7-1 pasting. There are just some things aDad has to do. Tiger's old man did it. So will I.

I don't think herself will be pleased with the grass stains on his trousers. I may haveto lock the door when she gets home. If she gets home.

~~~~


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Chapter 2

Some days are definitely sent to test. Im not sure what they are testing, but allgoing well, a few more revolutions of that clock up there over my head, and I'll see itinto another day. Can't be any worse than the one I just had. Business is bad.

The alarm didn't go off, and my dash to Galway was a rushed affair. As I reachedmy destination, twenty-five minutes late, I looked in the rear view mirror and noticedfor the first time I hadn't shaved. Fuck! Guru Ming would not be pleased.

Guru Ming, Rule #5. Appearance is EVERYTHING.

I must get one of those electric shavers. When they put one of those on an I-Phone,I'll be impressed. Not that I'll be getting one anytime soon.

Sammy met me in the hallway as I entered an old building off Eyre Square. Iapologised for being late. He said it didn't matter. Only two clients had showed up.

You need to get that pre-booking app for your site, he said, leading me into a sideroom.

I thought you said two? I asked, smiling down at the sole occupant, a ginger dude

with a mass of curly hair. About 30 years old, with freckles in number to match.Rather large ones.

The other one left, Sammy whispered. Do your life coaching on him. Word ofmouth. Best form of advertising, he winked, before excusing himself. He had a teno'clock seminar on the other side of the city. Something to do with Integration.

I sat down opposite the guy. Why the long face. What was eating him?I'm Sonny, I said.....Strange he began. .... Motivational Speaker. Getting YOUR life back is

the order of MY day. He quoted directly from my website. (Under construction)He didn't tell me his name. Instead he spoke like a poet, reducing who I was, and

what it is I do, to a level lower than embarrassing. It was testament to who he was. Amember of the truth movement that was gathering pace throughout the land. Websitesspringing up. An Industry being born.

Motivation's finished, he sneered. Truth's the future.I wish I could write what he spoke, with the elegance it came from his pierced

tongue.I could do what you do, he said. He most certainly could. If he was in this game,

hed be more than the sorry human before me.Away he went again, like Bob Dylan. I thought if only he had the face, the guy

could do well for himself. His face angered him. I could tell.You seem to have it all worked out, I said, when he finally finished.

Maybe I need an I-phone after all. I need to be recording these sessions. There'sgood material here.He rose and began to walk the room, his hands clasping each other behind his back.

I drank from a glass of warm water which had obviously come from a tap.Guru Ming, Rule #11. Always Be Prepared.

I've three words for you, Ginger said, breaking the hum of a wasp making it's wayacross my eye line. I could remember three words, couldn't I?

John Fucking Lennon.Phew. I've heard of him. But what did he mean? I was never to know. He stared at

me for what seemed like an eternity, and then simply walked out of the room. I waitedfor an hour hoping he'd return. Perhaps he was gone on some sortie to find the

bathroom, met the cleaning lady, and took a fancy.A bald dude peeped his head in.


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Wrong room, he said, before leaving, I sat there, the wasp playing games with mynose. I tried to whip him sideways and even landed a few times, but a brazen buggerhe was.

I was back in the car for twelve and heading home. I miss my stereo. Thievingbastards. Phone rings. Sammy.

How'd it go? he asked, out of breath.It went well, I said.Good. One client at a time. That's how I built this baby up.Sure, Sammy. He hung up.I'd made 20. Twenty bucks sounds better. There are real showmen in America. Evel

Knivel and that guy Obama. Ever see him whip up a crowd into a storm of positivist?That sort of money is not even enough to pay the fuel for the car. What hole had I

dug for myself?I killed a few hours and stopped by to see Pops.

Any work yet? he asked, drinking whiskey from a mug, dressed in a vest andglued to Jeremy Kyle.

I told you months ago, I'm self employed now.Ol' hearings nearly gone, he replied, a horny look on his face, as he ogled some

reprobate on the TV. I left just after four.I'll be around again soon, I said, as I left.Great, he said, lying. He's going to be dead soon. I hardly know him.Herself couldn't wait to get out the door the second I came through it. Smelling

good. She must be off to see the fancy man.Dinners in the oven, Harry's homework needs doing.Homework? I asked.You're brainier that me, she said, fixing her lipstick in the mirror. She looked well

in that top.You're the businessman.She was right, I was. She left without closing the door. I went to close it. I caught

sight of myself in the mirror. Not good at all.Wanna play football? Harry asked.I'm tired, son.Ah, you're always tired, he said, storming out into the garden. I never spoke to my

Pops like that. Then again, I didn't have too. Pops never tired; of doing nothing.... withanyone!

I overheard Mum asking him one night when I was ten, why he never made love toher anymore. He wouldn't answer.

Four years, she cried. She was only 33. I was thirteen years old before I knewwhat she meant. By that time she was dead.Chips and coleslaw for dinner. Who the hell puts coleslaw in a warm oven? I swear

she does it to piss me off.


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Christmas night all those years back.Call me gullible, but the guy on the web page [Ming] had a smile. The smile of

success.... A smile I dearly wanted.

~~~~


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lit new cigarettes. I sat and listened as they talked about his promise. I was just aboutto add my two cents when the waiter re-appeared and placed another bottle in front ofme.

Who was that on stage? I asked.Dont know, he replied. Walked in here an hour ago looking for a gig. I told him

we didnt pay. We only provided a platform. He didnt seem to mind.Can I go out the back to talk to him? I asked. He told me that no patrons were

allowed out the back. Club rules. So I left. I didnt have the money to be hangingaround.

I walked outside. The rain bounced from the cobbles that paved the narrowalleyway. I ran for my car. My shirt began to stick to my skin.

Guru Ming, Rule - 19 - Always keep a clean shirt in the car.

I needed to start taking in the advice. This motivational business is expensive tostart-up. Once I signed up I received my 21 Principals to implement them into mycareer every step of the way. It would help with my crew building and my businessacumen. I must find out what that word means.

Sammy, my overseer says I need to brush-up, or I may struggle passing my nextmodule, and may have to re-sit during my client seminar in a matter of weeks.

You need to protrude excellence in every area of your life, he told me when I methim for the first time months back. He ridiculed everything about me for months. Hebroke me like a citizen of Ireland, and spent the last few months building on myprofile and personal image. Its costs quite a bit of money.

Bertie Ahearn spends thousands on make-up, he said. He introduced me to anAvon lady who said she may be able to help me out.

Its all about image, he winked. This is a new-age. An age where a man neededto look good to compete with women in the market place.

Dont let anyone tell you there isnt a battle of the sexes. Sammy didnt have totell me.

Skinny exited through a side door within minutes of me getting back into the car.The rain was a downpour by now. I switched on the car and crept forward towardwhere he was walking, using the alley wall as a shelter. I rolled down the window as Iapproached him.

Can I give you a lift somewhere? I asked. He responded with a context thatcontained both profanity and a questioning of my sexuality.

Im Sonny Strange, I said, choosing to ignore the remarks. I think I may be ableto help you.

He stopped.

Why do you think I need help? he asked. Its my strongest point. Intuition.Guru Ming, #7 - Never tell the client about INTUITION.You seem angry, I said.Its my act, he said.I can help you with the act. Material. Direction, I offered. I took out my second

card of the evening and handed it to him.Call me if you want to play away from dives like that one.Guru Ming, Rule #4 - Always tell the truth, even if you dont believe it yourself.

That principal is beginning to reveal itself to me now. I felt I was getting there.Skinny took the card. I rolled up the window and drove away leaving him there tothink about it.

Herself was passed out when I got home. Two empty bottles of wine. I thoughtabout waking her and chancing my arm. I got as far as switching off the light. The


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dark brought a sense of prospective to me. I didnt want to go thereagain!Harry was sound asleep. He always sleeps with a smile on his face. Lately though,

its not there. I tried to talk to him about it. He looks at me like Im losing my mind. Iguess he doesnt realise he gives me that look.

My phone went off. I thought it was Sammy, but no. Message. I opened it.

Thats my number. Call me tomorrow. L.It was either the waiter or the skinny guy. For some reason that night it didnt seem

to matter to me. I have a bad feeling about things. Intuition haunts me sometimes.

~~~~


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Chapter 5

It turned out to be Larry, the guy from the Klub. I arranged to meet him for coffee ata little coffee shop in Naas. It was empty when I arrived. On time too.

Guru Ming Rule #5 ~ Never Be Late.

Larry arrived an hour late, just as I was about to leave. He didnt apologise. Still,Im not in the business of manners, or common decency for that matter. Im in themotivational business, and Larry, as he introduced himself as, needed motivating. Heordered a latte and a tuna and cheese sambo, and we sat down to business.

So what can you do for me? he said, sitting down.Good. No wasting unnecessary chat.I want you in my stable, I said. Fuck it, what had I to lose.Guru Ming Rule # 7. - Play the necessary role.

Do I resemble a horse to you? he asked. I have to say he threw me. The awkwardsilence was only ended when the sambo arrived. It looked good too.

Id managed to fit in breakfast with Harry earlier. We talked about how well he

seemed to be doing at school. Quite the proper little speller if all accounts are tobelieved.

Youll do better than me someday, I said, as he drank the remaining milk directlyfrom his cereal bowl.

That probably wouldnt be hard, he said, sounding so much like herself. If kidsare a product of their environment, then I guess its her fault. Her being thatenvironment. I just have this awful feeling Im heading for the door.

Do you know how many agents have approached me in the past five years? Larryasked.

Quite a few, I reckoned.Twenty-two, he said, before a mouthful of tuna rendered him silent. Do you

know how many I've turned down?Them all? I said.Correct, he chewed. I waited for a point, but it fell silent again.You dont say much, do you? he said. For a guy with a stable.I probably should have admitted my little white lie about the stable and ended what

was turning into an uncomfortable situation for me.Guru Ming Rule #10 ~ Hang in there.

Why should I say yes to you?I need the break, kid, I said. Sorry Ming! I began by telling him my sob story. I

played it off the empowerment trip I was on, and my attempts to create a profile in the

Motivational World for myself.Hows that going? he said, sipping latte through a straw he took from a jar on thetable.

Bad, kid, I said. Its almost like the people are beyond motivating. Theyve lostfaith in themselves.

You should listen to yourself, he said. Theyre not losing faith in themselves,theyre just wising up. Were on the periphery of a new dawn. And what comes beforethe dawn?

The dark? I offered.Hole in one. I ordered a black coffee and Larry went for another Latte, a skinny

one this time.

Larry went on to tell me his vision for the country over the next twenty years. It wasgrim. I found it hard to agree with him, I mean thats not the business Im in. Im the


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guy who gets people off their arses and on to their feet, not the guy who wants toconstantly drive them to their knees.

Dont be surprised if it happens, he warned. Think about it.Larry left. He told me to call him when I sorted myself out. Hed listen to offers for

gigs that paid a grand a night, and if I could swing that for him then maybe hed

listen. He stated that the life of a vagabond tested all he wanted to test of himself. Heknew Id never pull that size of gig off. I even knew it myself.

He left me with the bill. I guess thats the business Im in. I walked outside. I sat inmy car and watched the world go by until a traffic warden knocked on my window.

I thought you were dead, she said. Nope, I was still here. She quickly lost hergood-will and told me to shift, or shed issue me with a ticket.

Ive been watching you for an hour, she said.I drove off up the empty street and headed for home. I tried to call Sammy, but hes

been leaving me hanging lately. His line, business is booming.You need to believe, he told me at my last one-to-one last week on Skype. That

was pretty much the highlight of the 60 session.

It wont work unless you truly believe. Im sure Ive heard that somewherebefore, but I couldnt lay my finger on it.

Every time I go home now I expect bags at the door. Im glad when they are notthere. Ill take any break I get right now; Im too tired to start again.

Harry informed me when I picked him up from school that he wanted to change hisname. I told him Harry was not that bad.

Its the Strange part I want to change, he informed me. I can work with Harry.Guru Ming Rule #21. ~ Remember Who You Do It For.

I wonder if Ming has kids.

~~~~


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Chapter 6

Its a job for life, my old man used to say about different jobs I should look into,before I left for New York. There were many ways he tried to direct me. The armydidnt really appeal, the civil service felt draconian and the world of high-powered

business didnt really feel right with my genetic make-up. It was around the time Ibailed out of school with an average Leaving Cert that he gave up.

Youre on your own, he said to me on that particular day. Time to become aman.

I soon gave up on pursuing a college education and tested the waters with a numberof positions which filled in my week. I was a butcher for a while, but was notparticularly fond of my boss, who liked to think he was actually cutting updegenerates from history as he lay into a freshly slain sheep, barely hours out of itswool.

I decided to put my knives to another use and ended up breaking beef as part of ameat co-op. We worked in freezing conditions, and were constantly abused for not

taking enough meat off the discarded bones. I soon hung up the knives, boarded aplane, and found myself in New York City, waiting tables and dodging emigration.Those were great days.

What prompted my return was the Tiger, an opportunity to make similar money inthe country of my birth. I wasnt the only one to return in the pursuit of happiness inthe land of ones birth.

I found myself flogging insurance. My superior told me I had a natural flair forsales. My pay-packet didnt reflect it.

It didnt bother me much, it kept us going. I knew our marriage was a lie, so I didntrace off obsessing over buying her things. I think herself resented me for that.

She took a part-time job for spending money for herself. Thats when the affairsstarted, but try as she may, she hasnt managed to tie down any of them down, so I canget her off my hands. When Harry came along her direction changed a little. Sherealised she needed me more than I needed her. Thats when I first began to takecharge of my future.

The Insurance company fell under a weight of debt. Soon after came the revelationthe pension fund was non-existent. The owners fled to Bulgaria where they had someproperty. I cant see them coming back.

It took a while to get my dole as they hadnt paid contributions for the previoustwelve months, but I finally got it sorted. I got by doing odd jobs for people. Thatsoon dried up when people simply started doing it for themselves; no longer could

they afford to have hired help around the place.I remember the night well. It was cold. I could see stars through the branches aboveme, as I held my head back on Harrys swing in the garden. I liked swinging on it,because I knew it annoyed herself. As I swung over and back it just came to me. Do itfor yourself. Simple really.

I went indoors and it was then I found Guru Ming, by the following evening I hadregistered a domain name and paid the cost for the initial briefing. It was then an Irishmotivational agent contacted me.

My client base still stands at zero, but Sammy doesnt seem to mind.Guru Ming Rule # 17 - Its a numbers game.

Its all a learning curve, he says, when my drive wanes. One day you wake up

and everything just clicks into place.Guru Ming Rule # 8 ~ Only Losers Give Up.


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Perhaps that day is tomorrow. Sammys invited me to one of his seminars up inDublin. He said I can attend free-of-charge. Extraordinarily generous of him.Considering the set-up costs Ive paid so far. My website is still not up and running.Guru Mings Customer Service automated team say it will be live shortly. Its a farcry for their original pitch.

Your own website live in hours in a flashy, almost blinding, canary colouredbanner.

That was months ago. Maybe Sammy can help? Im sure hes up the chain enoughby now to have Mings direct contact details. Next week is my exam. I think Ill sailthrough. To progress after that I need some crew. Thats my main worry. I have none.Ive been the length and breath of this country for months. Lots of interest until talkabout subscriptions are voiced.

Guru Ming Rule # 3 ~ Nail The Sale.

Insurance, no problem. Try and convince people to take charge of themselves. Bigfucking problem. I just cant figure it out.

~~~~


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Chapter 7

Free-of-charge my arse. Ok, no money exchanged hands between Sammy and I, butevery note from his paying customers passed through my fingers as I sat by arevolving door collecting east wind and money. Two and a half grand in an hour.

Hang back for a while and make sure no one else comes, Sammy said. Theseminar only gets going in an hour.

I sat there waiting. They did not come. It gave me a chance to mull over a fewthings. Herself didnt come home last night. She normally sends me a text. Never sureif its to annoy me, or in an effort to save me from worry, but it did not come. I was alittle worried.

By the time I had made my way into the lecture hall, my head was consumed withall sorts of things. Visions of canals, black plastic bags and misty mountain woodlandsthrew me into a sweat. I felt ill.

Sammys words didnt resonate with me. By the time he had finished, hedconvinced forty-three of the paying crowd to register for his start-up. I was once again

put to work handing out forms and taking direct debit details for those with no creditcard or cash. One couple asked if it was possible to pay in instalments. Sammy askedthem to leave.

Guru Ming Rule # 20. Dont be cheap!

It took up most of the afternoon. I watched as Sammy put the cash neatly into twoenvelopes before licking them closed.

4,800.Not bad for a days work, he said. This will be you someday. I was beginning to

have my doubts.You studying hard? Sammy asked, as I walked with him to his Audi A8. Grey

metallic.I am, I said.Good, he said, getting in and driving away. If I could have looked down on

myself from above, Id have cut a lonely figure standing there lost. Hed tricked meinto walking him all the way to the top floor. My car was on the second. Boy, hesgood.

My phone went off. Herself... Safe and sound... Bring home phone credit.It was after eight before I got home. A punctured tyre didnt help matters.The state of you, she said, as I handed her the credit. She didnt enquire further as

she fed her mobile the necessary ingredients and launched off into a flurry of messagesending. Harry was asleep. I sat by his bed for a few minutes. What an angry looking

child he is. I didnt think hed wake. But he did. My greasy face forcing his cry. Likea little girls, high-pitched in its shrillness.Its only me, I said, rubbing his little head.You scared me, Dad, he said, returning to normal. Why do you look like a

mechanic?I told him of my woes on the tyre front. Before I was finished, he had returned to

sleep. I used to be able to capture him once. His little mind. But I had better stories totell back then. Ill try harder tomorrow.

Guru Ming Rule # 2. Life sucks. Get over it.

Chapter 8

I was dropping Harry to school when I made a parental decision.


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Im giving you the day off school, I said to him.Then why did you get me up? he said. I just cant win at the moment. I pulled into

a garage and popped into the shop. I got a bag of sausage rolls and a coffee and acoke. Harry was pleased with my purchase. He loves coffee. Ive asked him to cutback on the sugar. He pinched the slight tyre that now rounded above my hips.

You should practice what you preach.We drove to Pops house. I was glad to see he was up. Not so glad to see that he had

company. Maggie Fay, part-time bookmaker, full-time alcoholic. She looked theworse for wear. Pops never had much respect for himself. Or anything for that matter.

Guru Ming, Rule # 13. Respect yourself.

They were both draped in dressing gowns; the smell of stale drink filled the air.Pops took the remainder of Harrys coffee.

Good boy, he said, rubbing his head. Harry looked up at me. My phone went off.Have to take this, I said to him. I went out into the hall. It was Sammy. My exam

has been cancelled. New business directive. No crew, no exams.Lets meet up on Tuesday, he said, and hung up. Id studied hard for that. I was

just about to go back in when I overheard Pops asking Harry what he wanted to bewhen he grew up.

A stand-up comic, Harry said.A joker, just like your Dad, Pops laughed. Maggie took what looked like the

remnants of a joint from an ash-tray and as I re-entered, the smell confirmed it.Come on, I said to Harry, with a tone that made sure I didnt have to say it again.So soon? Pops grinned. If Harry wasnt present Id have given him a piece of my

mind. I could hear them both laugh until the sound of me closing the car door overdrowned it out.

Youre too hard on Granddad, Harry said.You wouldnt understand, I said. I was heading towards the playground when we

came across the traffic backed up. Fuck. Garda. On the bend of a road. Not muchchance of them getting anyone for speeding there. I rolled up to where they stood.They checked my windscreen.

Youre tax is out, the Garda observed.Im literally on my way to get it done now, I said. The Garda walked back to the

windscreen. He came back.Its nine months out, he said. You expect me to believe that.To tell you the truth Garda, my young fella here has a virus. I just collected him

from school. I hope its not swine flu. Im going to the hospital. Harry pretended tosneeze.

Ok, both of you out of the car. Im taking it off you. Soon Harry and I were in theback of the patrol car and were told the car was now going to be impounded until itwas taxed compliant, and that there would be fees involved due to the impounding. Imissed the figures such was my fury.

Guru Ming Rule # 6 ~ Stay Calm.

He dropped us at the hospital.I hope you feel better soon, he said to Harry. Now get out. We did. He sped off.Nice one, Harry said, walking off.Where you going? I asked.Home, he said. He kept going. I stayed a few steps behind. I felt he wanted time

on his own. Damn, his schoolbag, Id left it in the car.

We arrived back before one. Herself, was having a brew and a ciggie. She stubbed itout immediately when she saw Harry . She doesnt like when he sees her doing that.


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Ill give her that!Whats going on? she asked, rising from the stool beside the kitchen counter,

where she had been bent over listening to a radio that somehow never could find itstune. I told her the story.

Im going to my room, Harry said. He left.

We stood in silence looking at one another. Eyeing, watching, and waiting to seewho would draw first.

Great parenting, she said. I was too tired to argue, so I took it as a compliment andwent to the pub for a pint. After that morning, I needed one.

Guru Pops, Rule #1 ~ Drink And plenty of it!

~~~~


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unhappy.Nope, I said.Well its enough to know I wont be seeing you again.Its ten cent, I said.Its an automated system, he said.

Give me a minute, I asked. He looked at his watch and returned to his reading. Ijumped from the bus and back to the homeless lads still sat in the shelter. I hit a newlow as I asked them for ten cent. They looked at me, then at each other, and then backto me, before both scrambled in search of the cents that would get me home.Eventually the older one gave it to me. He looked a little shocked as he gave it over.

Thanks, I said, taking it from his hand. I jumped back on board, paid the fare andsat as close to the front as I could on the opposite side of the bus. I wanted the worldto swallow me whole. I wanted to rot in her belly and never come out again. Damnthis recession. Damn it to hell.

~~~~


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Chapter 10

I've been trying to get hold of Sammy for weeks now. His website is still there,taking subscriptions, but no answer to his personal phone line, a perk of the Premiummembership I'd talked myself into.

Guru Ming # 18 ~ If your gut says, 'Go'....GO.Ming is selling that particular slogan on his new range of motivational posters, The

Everest Range. A mix of eastern philosophy and urban youth culture. I got a personalemail from Ming just last night asking me to be his representative in my local city. Mylocal city is miles away. I sent back an email, dictating in length why this wouldn't bea good proposition at this juncture of my journey, and tried to appeal to his millions. Itbounced back. It was automated. I should have known I wouldn't fit into Ming's littlecosy cartel.

The wind found its lungs last night. I felt the tree marauding my roof was in dangerof coming in on top of us.

Id found myself outside, filling a bucket with wet coal, as rain water plunged to its

death from the gutters I never clean.You need to do a bit about the place, herself used to say. She eventually gave up.

Or did I just stop listening.Oh yeah, the coal. As its dust turned to flow and ran down my hand and then down

my clothes, I realised I wasn't much of a man around the house. A real man wouldhave a coal bunker.

No, a real man wouldn't burn coal, my inner voice said.A real man would have a job, another one said, sounding mysteriously like Pops. I

shook my head and they disappeared. I returned to an upright position, herself laughedout as she filled a glass with water from a sink by the window. I looked in dazed andwatched as Harry, alerted by the honesty in her laugh, raced from the hallway andthrew himself knees first across the tiled floor. He disappeared for a few seconds,before appearing from no-where, climbing up with his hands to sit on the counter-top.He laughed too. I looked at them both, before shifting my depth of field to the almostinvisible reflection of myself cut into a hundred slices of rainfall on the window. Iwished I could paint. I'd sell that image if I could.

They moved back from where they came. I stood there until drenched. Water pouredfrom the bucket and ran down my trousers. The wind blew the rusted leaves from theground until they stuck on me, wanting to suck the life from within. I'm not sure howlong I stood there. Herself knocking on the window interrupted my leaf decorating.

Get in here, you fool, she said, almost caring. Her voice felt listenable through the

glass it vibrated from. I dropped the bucket and went inside. Leaves flew off me as Ientered.You better clean that up, she said, scurrying off. I did. I ran a scalding hot bath

and as I soaked away the worries of the day, they came back at a pace. I finallyaccepted I'd been taken for a fool. I'd bought into all Guru Ming stood for and now hisappointed overseer had deserted me. There was no other reason for it. It was all ascam.

I topped up the water. Why had I bought into it? Surely, I had more sense than that.A quick and simple Google search, a bit of research, as they say. How can they getaway with it? It was hard to take as I let my head disappear beneath the water and Itook in the murk of the world down there, just short of a record 87 seconds.

I rose to greet the air with Harry looking in the door.Drowning yourself?


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Of course not, I smiled, as my lungs sucked in the air.I'm going to bed, he said, turning away. I sensed a disappointment. I got dried and

dressed and went into where he slept.Want me to read you a story? I asked.Why don't I read you one? he said. He patted the bed beside him and I went over

and lay down. He looked at me for a minute. He then reached down and grabbed hisnew phone Pops had bought him.

Close your eyes, he ordered. I did. Within a minute he was reading me theWikipedia entry for J.R.R Tolkien. I listened as he read, often times tripped by wordshe could not yet get his tongue around. Sometimes I guessed them for him.

Shut up, he'd request, ploughing on through the love story of Tolkien and his wifeEdith. When he reached the end of the passage which led to their marriage, he sigheddeeply, almost as if his accounting was a work of fiction in itself.

How can you read that off a phone? I asked.Modern technology. Wise up, he said, annoyed. I soon fell asleep.I woke to find him reading with a fully grown beard. The year 3047. But, of course,

I was dreaming. A dream within a dream. I woke properly to herself gazing down atme.

I think we should talk, she said, handing me a cup of coffee. She never did that.Even in the good ol' days. I made sure I wasn't still dreaming and sipped the coffee.Disgusting. I got up. Harry slept with a smile on his little face. I turned off the bed-side lamp.

Leave it on, he said, not opening his eyes. I did as instructed. Mr. Tolkienprobably had the little lad frightened with all that talk about Lords and Rings. I wasnever much of a reader.

I made my way into the kitchen. She sat on her stool, window side, chewing on anail and bobbing her knee up and down. Here we go. Marching orders.

"You've got two weeks to prove to me that your worth a damn to this world," shesaid, before announcing she was off to Corfu to end the affair she was having with abloke called Bobby in Dundrum, some bankrupt developer that NAMA was bailingout. As she continued with her tale of woe, I wondered why it would take her twoweeks to dump the asshole.

She grew more confident as my silence continued. If I could come up with areputable plan over the coming two weeks she would back me, and welcome me backinto her bed. A five-year plan that involved putting ourselves in a position to emigrateto a Swiss chalet lost in the Alps.

....and there we'll wait until the sun swallows us all, she said, throwing an image

into my head which belonged on a poster in The Everest Range.She walked over to me and kissed me like she was sucking on a rare steak. Mytongue felt like it was that steak. It felt numb when she eventually pulled away.

I have to pack, she said, leaving. I stood there, motionless for an hour or more.Why does life never go the way you expect? Why all the damn curve balls? I foundmy way back upstairs. This time I managed to turn off Harry's light. He didn't hearme, my movement drowned by his snores. I thought about chancing my arm andgoing into herself. See if I couldn't get an advance on that two week deadline. Idecided against it. I'll start ringing all those numbers Sammy gave me tomorrow. Seeif I can't rustle up a little crew. Maybe Sammy is just away on holidays and out ofrange. Hey, maybe I could even track down a physical contact address for Ming. Take

up that rep offer.Guru Ming Rule #16 ~ Think Big.


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Chapter 11

It took me until the fourth call to realise that there was no use continuing. Sammyhad scammed them all. The obscenities were harsh toward an innocent third party,there may have even been the occasional racial slur, but who could blame them, such

was the blindness of their rage. As I succumbed to an early morning stiff-one, I guesssome swindlers like the ending as much as the game, when they swan off to whereever it is swindlers swan off to. Perhaps Sammy is giving seminars to fellowswindlers at a private convention of high powered gluts from across the globe.Sharing his latest tale to bouts of jolly laughter from the cigar-chomping, sunglasswearing sociopaths as they romp in St. Tropez.

That's it then.Guru Ming Rule # 1 ~ Take the Positives and Move on.

The robbing bastard. A literal swindler. Some exit strategy that is. There really areno positives. The burden of my responsibility is now hitting home. I had turned myback on negativity for so long, to get to where I had to go. I'd sang every mantra there

was, solid in the belief that hard work pays off. Those who said different were mad.Isn't that what Bertie Ahern said?

Next month I'm due to start paying the mortgage on the house again. I'd been payinginterest only for a year to get my business up and running. I couldn't even afford thatin the end. Herself doesn't even know. Dandy!

I went outside. I watched the clouds fly over until I got dizzy, before picking up thebin that lay on its side. A little storm had done wonders for my garden. All the leaveshad blown into huddles in an attempt to hide from last nights howl. Winter's here. Icouldn't have done a better job myself.

I went back inside and decided to finish the bottle. I'm sure I wouldn't be the onlyDad up at the school collecting their kids today. I even imagined I wouldn't be theonly one who's resorted to drinking at an early hour; just to numb one somewherebetween crying and laughing. Stave off the old breakdown. The strange thing in allthis, is instead of my marriage breaking up, herself wants me back. Lord, why haveyou forsaken me? I'd have rang someone for a little chat if I had a number for TheSamaritans. But I doubt they deal in the field of self-induced lethargic states ofdepression. I'd love to be able to say that I have got over worse, but in truth when lifedealt my cards, I'd had a decent ride. Until now that is, up to me hairy tits in negativeequity, riddled in debt, and no apparent direction to go apart from driving to the Cliffsof Moher. Except, the Guards have my car.

The size of this house anyway. There's only the three of us. I'd bought in, and soon

I'll be spat out, a whore to a bank, a patsy to the state, a man-bitch to herself. I don'teven have the dole anymore; I signed that away for five years when I decided to beenterprising. I'd bought into my own Ponzi Scheme, and folded it quicker than BernieMadoff could say 'I'll have the lobster, please.'

I may as well grow a beard now, and grow used to the silence, or the drone ofDaytime TV like Pops. It's a tough place to be in, knowing the old codger may beright after all.

Guru Pops Rule # 2 ~ We're all just drifting through. Lighten the fuck up.

Harry snubbed my offer of a little footie, citing the bitter of the day.You won't play for Brighton & Hove Albion if all you are is a fair weather

footballer.

I wouldn't play for them anyway, he said, before rounding on me by saying Inever listened to him.


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I've told you more than once I want to do stand-up. He left the kitchen. I followedhim.

Can I see your act? I asked.You can for a fiver. he said. I didn't have that kind of money on me. I asked would

he accept an IOU.

Do I look like Brian Cowen to you? he said.No. I said.Then come back when you have it, he said, as he set up a game of Tiger Woods

Golf on the Playstation.Fancy a round, I asked. With a tut he told me to grab a controller.I'm dreading going to the bank. What's in there, is all I got. It's now crime or

abandon the family. Jaysus, I didn't expect it to come to this.Harry swept around a breezy St. Andrews with a 59. I walked off into the kitchen to

make dinner, happy I'd broke 90.As the oven broke a sweat, I started on a new bottle. A man's entitled to a drink at

the end of a day. I'd earned it. That five footer at the last was a test of my metal. I

relayed the sinking of the putt in my imagination before sinking a neat one to markthe milestone. It's strange sometimes where people find a little strength. Thanks, JohnDaly.

~~~~


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Chapter 12

I have 417 in the bank. I checked earlier when I was inside cancelling all my directdebits before that number reduces any further. Herself is home in a week. It's a murkyday, not surprising really when the country was sold to greater forces last night by that

twit Brian Cowen. I voted Green last time. A new tomorrow. Not sure if I'll botheranymore. The Mayans say we're doomed in two years time, while others believe it isbut the dawn of a new age of consciousness. I wonder did they factor in the X whenthey drew that conclusion.

I flirted away the morning hours upon my return, online. I Googled many things.How to make a million in a week? It threw up results. You are God. A mini Industry.Become an International Panhandling Service? No results. A niche in themarketplace? It seems the time to push this. Lobby for rights for Panhandlers. Issueregulation, a little light touch, just to show them I'm watching. Online tutorials. Createa damn empire. I really have to stop drinking during the day.

I stopped by Pops' place on my way back from school with Harry. The heavens had

opened.There's an umbrella just inside the door at home, Harry said, obviously annoyed.Pops wasn't himself when we arrived. I found Harry a towel to dry himself.If I was forty years younger I'd lead a fucking revolution? he charged at Harry,

who seemed drawn.A revolution? Harry asked.Hang 'em high, boy. Like they did in the good old days. Out west, he said,

despising the site of Cowen on the TV.I don't think Harry needs to be listening to your outdated philosophies, I said,

ordering Harry into another room. He left, annoyed that I had undermined the historylesson.

"You always treat me like a kid," he said, scurrying off. I circled Pops for a momentor two before sitting adjacent to him on the couch.

Pops?Yes," he said.I asked him did he recall the time he drank my savings. He said he did and that he

had apologised. Pops told me I was a disappointment to him, as I always had my headstuck in the past.

Whinging' like a fuckin' baby, blaming the world for all your failure. I didn't askyou to send the money home.

It's just I could do with some cash, I said, ignoring everything he was saying. My

primary focus was money. Nothing else.Guru Ming Rule # 15. Determine your primary focus. Then Execute.What the fuck has the World come too, he asked. Everyone's looking for a

bailout.He got up, and went to an old dresser he used to house plates and cups that were

never used. He took an old jar down and opened it. He took something out and cameback over to me. He handed me 50.

It's half of what I got, get the young buck something out of it. You're a bigdisappointment to me, boy. You're nothing like your brother.

I called Harry from his exile and left without taking it. I certainly would have, if itwas loaded with two added zeros. I wasn't taking that shite for fifty quid, no matter

how stuck I was.Harry's missing herself. I can tell. I wonder sometimes how clued in he is to


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everything. It's a constant worry as he approaches his tenth digit. I hope thereunification doesn't include some sly pan on her behalf to secure further childbenefit. I never get any of that.

As I tucked him in, I asked if he was up for a little storytelling tonight. He told mehe wasn't and questioned when I intended stopping putting him to bed. Why does he

want to become a man so quickly? I've thought about filling him in about thedevastation being a man causes, but it's felt too cruel. I feel I have to protect him, anddeal with the consequences of that on a learn-by-doing basis, if such consequencesarise. He'll never do stand-up, he's much too serious for that. Or maybe that's his act,like that guy at Klub Komedy all those months back. I wonder if Skinnys happy.

I picked up my phone and went to call my brother, Luke. Luke's a good lad. Hecame across his opportunity on a wine tasting trip to Tuscany, and married thedaughter of a local artist renowned for painting his wife in the buff. The original printssold well, as he had devoted his life to painting her each quarter and letting the worldwatch her blossom toward old age. A man worthy of the term 'artiste.' Then again,maybe it was just a clever marketing ploy.

Luke and his wife, Rosa, set up a little studio where people paid good money tocome and paint, and hopefully sell their work in the adjoining gallery. It's anotherworld, another life, aristocratic almost, without all the costume and debauchery.

Luke sends for Pops once a year. Pops always takes up the offer. Luke reckons he'sbanging the local Baker's wife when he is over there. That doesn't surprise me.

I always imagined a girl at every port. Then I'd look in the mirror, same face, andsame story. No port.

I put the phone down. I'll wait until later in the week. When things reach critical onthe existence scale. He could be having a community wine and cheese buffet. Nosense in disturbing that.

~~~~


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Chapter 13

Herself arrived back tonight, a day late. A delay, caused by the snow which hasgripped our once sovereign country.

I can't get out of the house. The roads are lethal. I called the local council and asked

if they were going to treat the roads. They said they weren't. There was not enoughsalt to go around. The main routes were getting preference. The trouble is I can't evenget to the main route, one way or another. I felt I needed to vent a little steam in thedirection of the executives of the land. It didnt do much good.

She went to bed after she had spent a little time with Harry. He seemed ratherdistant. If he's like this now, what will he be like when he's being pulled apart bytestosterone.

Let's talk tomorrow, she said, mounting the stairs. No invitation into the bedroom.I would have asked her how she got on, but it didn't seem right. I'll put it out of myhead. If she's prepared to change, then I'm prepared to forget. For the sake of sex.

Can I live with Granddad for a while? Harry said, catching me by surprise as I

poured myself a stiff one.What?He repeated the request. He didn't have to be so smart. I heard him the first time.Absolutely not, I said, turning around to face him, in an effort to hide the bottle.

And anyway, why would you want to live with him?Harry told me that he was bored around here. There was nothing to do. Pops was

interesting and he didn't bore him. Thanks very much, Son.I repeated my negative answer.Not even a debate, he said. Typical dictatorship. Good God, they teach them

history so young these days.You'll be better served here, I said. You just got to trust your old man on that. I

watched as he walked away. His head bowed. I could see myself in him. All thoseyears ago. At his age. When Mam died.

I was the one who found her. In the garden tending to her spring onions. Over shewent. Heart. She looked happy. It didn't comfort me. I stayed with her until Pops cameout, me as lifeless as her.

What did you do? he asked, pushing me to one side to get to her. He felt her neck.She's gone, he said, and went back into the house. Luke came out and took me

inside. A month later he was off on his travels. It was just Pops and me after that.Maybe if Amanda and I can put the past behind us we can make Harry happy. Start

doing things together. Maybe even bring him to the Zoo. We'll have to go on the bus,

but maybe that's what families do.I followed Harry to the living room. I sat down beside him.I'll ask Pops if you can stay over at the weekend.Really? he said, excited.I'll have to clear it with your Mother too, I said.That's easy, he replied. Just cry. Works for me. We sat there watching TV for a

time. Those Fools and Horses were on. I used to love them years ago.This time next year, we'll be millionaires .I always felt they'd make it, one blunder at a time. They don't make comedy like

they used to.With Harry's yawns came his departing.

I'm going to bed, he said.Good-night, Son, I said, staying where I was. I didn't even turn my head to see if


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my little action of not bringing him had any impact on him. I pictured him going tobed with a smile on his face, as all kids should. Whether he did or not, well, whoknows?

I checked my email inbox. It was empty, apart from some spammer who wanted toenlarge my penis. He or she was really going for the jugular to those of a smaller

disposition.'Feel good about yourself again.' 'Increase your confidence.' They were selling

motivation, just in a different way. I reckon my own size will do for now. It just needsa little stimulus. Maybe tomorrow.

I sent the mail to spam hell, where ever that may be. I scrolled down to switch offmy laptop when a little indicator said I had another one. What was it this time?Natural Viagra for the limp among us. That might interest me more.

I had a new message via my Guru Ming website. Excited, I rushed to retrieve it.Maybe it was Sammy after having a change of heart? Maybe it was Ming himself?Not before time either. My rock had hit bottom. Even the drink doesn't work anymore.I'm benign to it. It flows through me, such is the emptiness at times.

I made my way to the message. It was neither of them. It was an enquiry. I'd had afew before. Then subscription came up. They bolted. Obviously they'd been stungbefore somewhere.

I read the enquiry. It actually turned out to be a rant. From a man on the edge... ofreason by the sounds of it. I took my time and read through this plead from a heart onthe verge of implosion. As I read on, it became apparent this guy really did need somehelp. Probably not the kind I specialize in though. He told me he thought he had it allworked out. That was back in May. Things hadn't gone to plan for various reasons. Hetoo had followed his heart. Straight into a block wall by all accounts. He told me he'dno money, but if I could help him out, he'd 'take me on' in an advisory capacity.

I heard footsteps from upstairs. Then a door opened. Footsteps on the stairs. Thenshe appeared. It was Amanda. She stood in a night dress. It may not have been on atall, the light from the hallway shining through it, illuminating her in a way I had notseen in years.

Would you risk it for a biscuit, she asked, sucking on the tip of her little finger. Ilooked at her. Did she send the spammer my way?

I'll be up in a minute, I said.Don't be long, she winked. I wouldn't. I just needed to compose myself. I felt a

pulse begin to tickle my neck. Oh God, I hope it wasn't a stroke. That would just bemy luck. I looked back at my laptop. I didn't have much to lose.

Hang in there; I'll be in touch tomorrow. Send.

The poor fucker. You only realise one's fortune when you deal with those at a lowerstation in life. Sounds like his attempts to rise above his station has been met with aresistance. Station never really mattered to me. I just want to be able to live. Pay thebills. Maybe squeeze in a little tennis now and then.

I better get on with it. I treated myself to the rest of the bottle. From the neck.Steady the nerves.

As I made my way up the stairs I hoped I wasn't letting my manhood rule my head.For tonight, fuck it, I won't even think about it. Tomorrow's another day.

Don Booker.... What a strange name.... He must be an American....

To be continued in a web series.

Details will be announced at


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www.fbooker.blogspot.com

Also from this Author

Booker's World


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About the author:

Noel Farrell is a writer and filmmaker living in Trim, Co Meath in Ireland.

Noel has been writing full-time now for 18 months, choosing to absorb the

economic meltdown in Ireland by following a creative path long ignored throughthe years of the Celtic Tiger.

Sonny Strange, A Motivational Memoir in Minor is a prelude novella to Noel's

debut novel, Booker's World which will be available in March 2011. Noel's

intention is to merge the principal characters in both books into a web-series,

picking up from where both books finish off.

Noel's characters are drawn from the working classes at a unique time in

Ireland's history. Noel deals with matters dealing with the social consequence ofausterity measures, but Noel draws from one of Ireland's strongest

characteristics in his writing by using his own brand of dark, dry, caustic and

sometimes thought-provoking humour.

Noel blogs regularly at www.fbooker.blogspot.com.There he provides an outlet

for new and aspiring writers to talk about and promote their work. Noel posts

first draft excerpts for his readers from time to time, as an example of how a

final draft turns out, as opposed to the ramblings of a free-writer. Noel also blogs

about Ireland, writing, politics and the absurd.

Please feel free to pass this book to other readers who may want to read it.

Noels Twitter

Noels My Space

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