Ten-year-old Red Morgan and Po Hillen are the best of friends growing up in Newry, Northern Ireland, in the late 1950s. It's an adventurous time for these boys who always seem to be at the center of a little mischief.

Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dog's Tales

Short Stories from Ireland A Children's Book for AdultsBy Frank Murney

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2011 Frank Murney
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4269-6136-6

Contents

The Airfield......................................1The School Play...................................4The Nun's Graveyard...............................10A Day in the Life of Class 3C.....................17Lay Low...........................................30Strange Knickers..................................34God is Love.......................................38The Canal Crossing................................46The Cup Match.....................................49Fright Night......................................55The Confession....................................59The Grave Question................................63Cowboys and Indians...............................71Revenge...........................................74The Big Pike......................................81The Dinger........................................84The Dentist.......................................88Trees are for Monkeys.............................92The Yacht.........................................97Swimming with the Fishes..........................104Red the Hero......................................108Paper Money.......................................111The High Mass Incident............................115The Wake..........................................119The Mystery Tour..................................126The All Ireland Final.............................132The Smugglers.....................................140Market Day........................................144The Camping Trip..................................149The Ghost.........................................154The Record Hop....................................159God's Pub.........................................166The Spud Pickers..................................171The New Suit......................................177Bird Catching.....................................180The Strawberry Fields.............................183Bird Attack.......................................189The Pigeon Race...................................192Revenge 2.........................................199The Great Cycle Marathon..........................203

Chapter One

The Airfield

1957

Red and Po finally reached their destination two miles south of Dundalk. They turned their bikes onto a lane on the left of the road and stopped.

"Is this it?" asked Po.

"Yeah, I think so ... see the wind sock?" said Red, as he pointed to an orange hollow cloth tube fluttering in the wind at the top of a pole some one hundred and fifty yards away.

"What's a wind sock anyway?"

"Shows the pilots which way the wind is blowin' when they are takin' off and landin' ... come on," said Red, pushing off on his bike.

They had arrived at Dundalk Airfield. This field was used by local light aircraft owners in the County Louth area. There was a small hanger which would have held three, possibly four planes, and a small wooden office which doubled as Air Traffic Control. It was Sunday and Red had decided he wanted to go to the airfield to watch the planes coming and going. They followed the lane until they reached a small car park. The place was deserted, no cars, no people, and just one small orange and white Cessna 150 parked outside the hanger.

"Where's all the planes?" asked Po looking around.

"How do I know?"

"Well, are we stayin' here or what?"

"Don't know, we'll wait for a wee while to see if any come in, huh?"

"Suppose so."

They sat down on the grass, lit up two Woodbines and waited. After about an hour of inactivity at the airfield a mutual decision was made to go home.

"Hang on a minute, I need a leak," said Po, heading over to a tree beside the wire fence that separated the lane from the car park and the airfield. Red got on his bike and was riding around in circles when he heard a loud scream. He skidded to a stop and looked in Po's direction. Po was rolling on the grass beside the ditch moaning and holding his groin.

Red jumped off his bike and raced to his side.

"What happened?"

Po just groaned.

"Po, what happened?" said Red, his voice raised in concern that Po had seriously hurt himself. Po still didn't answer, he just groaned. Red knelt down beside him.

"Come on Po for Christ's sake, what happened ta ya?"

"Ahaaa, I don't know, pain in my bollocks, it's very bad," moaned Po starting to kneel.

"Did ya catch it on somethin'?"

"No."

"Are ya sure?"

"Frig off."

"Well, what the hell did ya do?"

"How the frig do I know, I just got this terrible pain in my thing. It went all through my body."

Po was now standing up.

"Is it gone?"

"Yeah, suppose it is. Christ that was sore."

"We'll call into the hospital just in case."

"I'm not goin' ta any friggin' hospital."

"Are ya ok ta ride your bike?"

"Yeah, Jasus, never felt a pain like that before I can tell ya."

"Ya need ta get that checked out, it might be serious ya know."

The boys got on their bikes and headed back up the airfield lane. When they reached the end, they stopped to wait for a break in the traffic to get across the main road. Po went on ahead of Red who was fixing the bag on the back of his bike. When Red looked up he noticed a red and white sign on the fence. It was partly covered by the hedge. He had to read it at least three times to be sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Po looked back but couldn't see Red. He stopped, turned and went back toward the airfield lane. When he got there he found Red sitting in the ditch head in hands, laughing.

"What?"

"Jasus Christ ... I have met some ejits in my life, but you take the biscuit."

"What, will ya tell me ya bastard?"

"Can ya not read, moron?"

"Read what?"

Red launched into another burst of laughter and just pointed at the sign. Po read the sign, looked at Red, back at the sign, back at Red.

"You mean that I ..." Po pointed at the sign.

"Yeah, ya moron, did no one ever tell ya never to piss on an Electric Fence?"

End

Chapter Two

The School Play

1958

It was just past eleven that Thursday night in 1958, when the two shadowy figures stopped at a secluded part of the fence surrounding St. Joseph's Intermediate School in Newry. Red gave Po a final push to help him over and watched as he disappeared into the darkness on the other side. The silence of the night was shattered by a loud crash followed by soft moaning.

"Po?" Red whispered through the fence, "are ya ok?"

The stream of obscenities coming from the other side assured Red that, if Po was not all right, at least his mouth was in perfect working order. He clambered over the fence with a little more ease than Po managed; perhaps this was, in part, due to the fact that Red was at least twelve inches taller and by far the more agile. He found Po nursing his leg.

"What happened ta ya?"

"Nothin', nothin' a'tall ... other than the fact that I nearly broke ma friggin' neck ... that's all!" snarled Po.

"Then why are ya rubbin' your leg?"

"You're a real funny bastard; do ya know that, Morgan?"

Red just grunted and moved off into the darkness.

"Come on," he whispered over his shoulder.

"Come on, come on," mimicked Po. "I could be badly injured ya know."

Sympathy was in short supply ... there was no response.

Red and Po made their way along the bushes to the school building keeping themselves hidden from the houses on the main road. A few moments later Red stopped under a small window.

"Right, here we are."

"Ya know somethin', ya haven't told me yet why the hell we're here," said Po looking directly into Red's face.

"I'll tell ya later."

"Ya'll tell me now, Morgan."

Red knew Po could dig his heels in when he wanted to, so the best thing to do was give him a little information ... just enough to keep him happy.

"Look, it's like this, ya know that creep Fallon, the drama teacher?

Well, as ya know, he's not too fond of me. He's insistin' that I take part in the School Play," explained Red.

"So?"

"So, all the costumes for the play arrived this afternoon. Now, if for some reason the costume that I'm supposed ta be wearin' at tomorrow's dress rehearsal is missin' ..." Red held out his hands inviting Po to finish the sentence.

"Now I have ya, no costume, no Red in play," finished Po.

"Po, sometimes I just can't believe how friggin' smart ya are."

"Piss off."

"Right, this is the window," said Red looking up at the aperture some five feet above the ground. I left it open this afternoon. Lemme give ya a lift," said Red without looking at Po.

"Hold on a friggin' minute, why can't ya go in first?"

"Po, get a grip! Look at the size a me. There's no way I could get though that window," said Red with all the sincerity he could muster.

"So muggins here has ta go in ... right?"

"Po, wait till I tell ya. You're the best friend ..."

"Red?"

"Yeah?" answered Red sweetly.

"Did I ever in my life tell ya ta frig off?"

"Well, once or twice."

"Then, add this ta your list ... frig off!"

"Ah come on Po, ya wouldn't let a mate down in a time of need, would ya?" pleaded Red.

"You're right, I wouldn't let a mate down in a time of need," said Po as he turned to go. Red reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around.

"Do I have ta remind ya of the time that, if it wasn't for me, your da would have ..."

"Now hold on Red. Ya said ya would never throw that up," muttered Po.

"I lied."

"Look, if I go in here, will ya give me your word of honour ... wait a minute, ya don't have any honour. If I go in here will ya promise on your mom's life that we're quits?"

"Ya got it."

"I'd be better off with a mangy dog for a best friend," grumbled Po.

"Go on, get in will ya!"

"You're a bastard Morgan."

"Ach Po, I love ya too ... give us a kiss."

"Away and frig off ya fruit."

"Will ya hurry up for Christ's sake?"

"All right, all right ... Hi, what do I do when I'm inside?" asked Po.

"Go down the corridor and into the gym. Then go to the emergency doors at the other end and open them. I'll be waitin' outside."

Red leaned his back against the wall and cupped his hands giving Po a step up. He had both legs through the open window and was about to drop inside when he stopped as if he had thought of something. He looked at Red standing in the darkness.

"Bastard face!"

"Shithead!" answered Red.

Po smiled and disappeared through the window.

Red hurried around the corner of the building and along to the emergency doors at the far end of the gym. Once there he waited and listened, all was quiet. He knew it would take Po a few minutes to get to the doors.

Both Red and Po were in the same class at school. They were the same age, well, almost. Red was twelve and four months, Po was twelve and six months. Po never let Red forget this small detail. 'I'm older than you Morgan therefore I'm more experienced in life.' Red would usually smile and let the comment go unanswered. He knew Po would not be satisfied until he thought he had got one over on him.

'Well? Are ya afraid of the truth Morgan?' Po would say.

'See, ya have nothin' ta say have ya Morgan?' This usually made Po's day. To get one over on Red was a big thing to him. Physically, Red was the larger of the two. In fact he was the tallest in his year at school, but not skinny in his six foot frame. A natural athlete, he was involved in many sports. This built up his legs and upper body to such an extent that he appeared older than his years. He had a mass of auburn hair which was always untidy during the week, but well groomed on the weekends when he and Po went to the dances. Po on the other hand was small and slightly built, standing about five foot. He had a swarthy complexion and black curly hair. Red teased him about this, 'I think you look like one of those gypsies he would say.' Po would never let Red get away with anything if he could help it. 'So what, I'd rather look like a gypsy than a toffee apple.' This kind of remark usually ended up in a wrestling match between the two.

Red's thoughts were interrupted by Po's voice from inside the doors.

"Red ... you there?"

"No, I'm away home ten minutes ago. Open the friggin' door ya ejit."

A moment later the door opened and a breathless Po stood there holding his chest.

"Bastards, dirty rotten bastards," panted Po.

"What happened?"

"Them bastards ... them lazy bastards ... they left the ropes and stuff out in the gym," panted Po struggling to get his breath.

"So what?"

"So what?" panted Po.

"I'll tell ya so what ... I ran into the friggin' ropes didn't I...didn't know what they were ... scared the shit outta me ... bastards!" Po paused for breath. "Then I fell over a stupid friggin' mat into that friggin' horse thing."

Red had tears running down his face. He was doubled over, arms wrapped around his waist as if to keep something from falling out. He was shaking from head to toe.

"Oh aye, go on, have a good laugh, ya shithead."

There was no answer from Red. He was trying his best to get control of himself but was finding the task difficult. Po couldn't see the funny side of things. He stared at Red as if he'd gone funny in the head.

"Are ya the full shillin', are ya? There's nothin' friggin' funny about it." It took another few minutes before Red had settled himself enough to speak to Po.

"Right ... ok ... let's get this thing organised," said Red, trying hard to sound convincing.

"Look Red ... a joke's a joke, but I could've had a heart attack back there ya know."

"Po, do me one small favour...shut up," Red pleaded.

Po continued mumbling obscenities as he followed Red into the darkness of the gym, half of his words aimed at Red and the other half at the last class to use the gym that day. Eventually they arrived at the storeroom in the assembly hall. Red opened the door and entered. When they were inside, Red fumbled around for the light switch until he found it. There were no windows in the room and Red knew light would not be seen from outside. It took a few moments for their eyes to get adjusted.

"Right, start looking," said Red pointing at about a dozen cardboard boxes stacked on one side of the small room. "... and don't leave a mess.

I don't want anyone ta know we've been here."

"What do I look for?"

"All the costumes have name tags on them, look for the one with my name on it stupid."

"Oh! I'm awful sorry for breathin'. "

"Go, go and start lookin' will ya or we'll be here all night."

It took Red almost five minutes to find what he was looking for.

"Right, I got the bastard ... let's go ... and leave everythin' back nice and neat."

He stuffed the costume under his jacket.

Some fifteen minutes later, after retracing their steps, they were back on the main road walking towards town.

"Gis a smoke," said Po.

They stopped and Red produced a packet of Woodbine. After they had both lit up, Po inhaled deeply and looked at Red.

"Hi, ya never told me, what were ya in the stupid play anyway?" Red looked away.

"Nothin', it doesn't matter now."

Po noticed a piece of the costume hanging down from under Red's jacket. Like a flash he had hold of it and pulled it out. Dancing with delight Po held the costume up in the air avoiding Red's attempts to grab it back. Po's eyes were as wide as saucers. He was roaring at the top of his voice.

"I don't believe it! I don't friggin' believe it! No wonder ya were in such a flap to get this costume, ya bastard."

"Po, I swear, ya mention this ta anybody, and I mean, anybody, and you're dead."

Po didn't hear. He was too busy dancing around the road with Red's costume held up in front of him.

"I don't believe it ... a fairy ... a friggin', whorin' fairy," roared Po. Red chased Po all the way home but never caught him. At last Po had something on Red. All his birthdays had come at once that day!

End

Chapter Three

The Nun's Graveyard

1958

It was closing time that Friday night when Red Morgan arrived at Luigi's Café. Uncle Luigi, as everyone called him, was just about to lock the door when he saw Red.

"Come in ... come in," he greeted Red with his usual broad, toothless grin.

"You lock door for Luigi, huh?" as he handed Red the keys. No answer was required. Uncle Luigi turned and waddled back up to the counter where his last six customers were waiting for their take-away fish and chips. He was a small, stout, bald man in his sixties who Red imagined going to bed in his apron. In fact, he couldn't remember ever seeing him 'apronless!' Red just nodded. He knew that Uncle Luigi really wanted him to stand at the door, keep it locked, and let the customers out when they had been served. This meant standing at the door for at least another fifteen minutes.

When all the customers were gone, Red helped with the cleaning up and floor washing. Also lending a hand that night were Blackie Havern, Naffy McKay and Topcoat Anderson. When the place was shining like a new pin they sat down in the front snug to the fish suppers that Uncle Luigi laid on for the lads who helped clean up. Red was the last to be seated having just finished putting the bins out back. As he approached the snug there was, as usual, a finger pointing debate in progress.

"That's rubbish!" Topcoat was saying angrily. His face was red with the effort of making his point. Topcoat was rather the odd man out at the table. He was in his forties, with a small thin body always covered from head to toe with an army Great Overcoat. He had a thin wizened face and a mop of unkempt, thinning, ginger hair. Topcoat, named for obvious reasons, lived in a little cottage outside the village of Camlough. Every day he would walk the four miles to Newry and home again.

"I walk home every night in the pitch dark past the graveyard at Mullan's Hill. If there were any ghosts don't ya think I mighta seen one over these past twenty years?" argued Topcoat slamming his fist on the table.

"Well, I can only tell ya what I've heard from a lot of people, and not the sort of people ta make up stories," Anto came back with equal force.

Antonio, or Anto as he was known, was Uncle Luigi's nephew. He was a good friend of Red's and a year older. Red caught Anto's eye as he squeezed into the snug. An almost imperceptible wink alerted him that Anto was 'at it' with Topcoat. Red knew he was up to something... but what? Whatever it was, he knew that Anto would expect him to be his back up. Red looked at Topcoat and thought to himself, 'What are ya walkin' into now ya bloody ejit?'

Anto looked at Red.

"Red, ya live up beside the Nuns. What's that graveyard like up there on the hill?"

"Well, let's put it this way, I wouldn't go into it late at night, I can tell ya that," replied Red hoping that this was the answer Anto wanted. "There ya are, didn't I tell ya. Even Red wouldn't go near that place at night," said Anto sitting back in his seat with a satisfied look on his face.

"I'm surprised at ya Red," said Topcoat turning to look straight at Red.

"I thought ya would've had more sense."

"Well, I just think there are more things in heaven and earth and so on ..." replied Red almost apologetically.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dog's Talesby Frank Murney Copyright © 2011 by Frank Murney. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.