‘Ah now, Maurice, that isn't what I was saying at all. And no one is laughing at you, either.'
‘Oh yes they are. Joe Brady called me a dumbo yesterday when I got the spelling wrong.’
‘So that's why you hit him,' he laughed, impressed. 'He's no feckin' genius anyway. He can't even tie his laces for feck sake. And have you seen the state of his ears? I mean no man with ears that stick out like that has a right to call anyone a dumbo.’
Despite myself, I smiled.
'Come on, Big Man. We'll figure this out, OK? Me and you, right. Me and you against the world, yeah?'
He got me in the gentlest headlock and ruffled my hair.
'You'll be grand.'
But I wasn't. And every morning after, they had to pull me kicking and screaming from my bed. My father was pushed to limits that were not naturally him
‘Get out to blazes, ya pup.'
He pulled at me until there was nothing left in my grip of the leg of the bed and I gave way.