Selection Box: Damien Mulley “Him”

The Christmas Day selection boxer is blog wunderking Damien Mulley. No lickarsing allowed! Shame.

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It’s December 25th, 3am
A lot of preparation goes into something like this. He’s got his list in his hand though he’s memorised it all already. In the old days houses didn’t have eircom alarm systems or big fuckoff security locks, so his job tonight of delivering these presents was a little more difficult than it would have been 20 years ago. Not too difficult, these systems were nothing to someone of his experience.

He liked some of the little touches in the homes. A few had left out plates with pieces of cake and some milk or a beer but it appeared someone was here before him and gobbled up that 3 layer cake concoction that was left out for him. Instead he took a selection box from under the tree, slit open the box with his knife with the jet black handle, slowly opened it out and took the curly wurly. He liked curly wurlys. He slid the selection box closed again and put it back exactly as it was under the tree.

There was a note from a girl and her brother in one of the homes. He thought it very cute. Such belief in someone obviously not turned cynical by the age of 10 or 11. He noticed too that that age seemed to be falling as the “real” world crept in more to the lives of kids that wanted to believe. He found it odd that the adults that wanted to believe both lotto tickets or got scammed by Nigerian emails.

He walked back through the kitchen and past the unconscious dog in her basket. Doggie treats and knockout pills. Another trick he learned from years in the business. They leave a treat out supposedly for the big man, then set a growling mutt to welcome him. Logic. One more house in this estate to go. He was almost disappointed his bag was about to be empty.

It’s December 25th, 8.07am
The work phone rings. It keeps ringing. He knows who’s at the other end and knows he won’t stop til he picks it up. Go on. Are you awake. You need to be awake for this. The tone is different. They’ve got a pattern, a routine, this isn’t fitting. He wakes a bit more. Yes. What I’m about to tell you is real, it’s happened, I’m not winding you up. Right. The man on the phone tells him. He gets goosebumps. He doesn’t get goosebumps. You don’t in a job like this. No we’ll go to the estate later.

It’s December 25th, 8.59am
He walks into a scene of controlled panic. Alarms, screeching, screaming, shouting, ordering. The A&E is overflowing. Porters are running all over the place. Two of the dead bodies are left in the resuss room while they are tending to two still live bodies. 3 are undergoing surgery in operation theatres. There are more children than adults hurt or dead.

It’s December 25th, 10.19am
Fire brigades, army bomb disposal people and a sea of Garda cars are there. The whole estate has been sealed off. Some press are about. Some are sober, some are still drunk and some are still coked up. One of the press office people talks to a crime correspondent for a tabloid. Prick he says to himself. First house, blood spatter on the wall. He’ll survive he gets told. The second house he had to walk back out of. He’s seen death but death has mostly discriminated against being so savage to a child up to now.

After the tour of the scenes they do a run-through. So at first we thought it was some gang thing, despite the estate. This is a good area, upper middle class. While the odd drug dealer might own a gaff here, they don’t carry out feuds here. It looks like a rampage with the way the grenades went off in number 23 over there and number 47 up there but in number 13 and 29 a kid and a parent were shot. Kids pulled the triggers. In number 33 a girl had her arm ripped off my a crossbow. There are unexploded grenades in two more houses

It’s December 27th, 7.19am
They now know where the weapons came from. Same types and issue as weapons used by local Dublin gangs. Word has already leaked to the gangs and they are lying low. Another child died during the night. He is giving hourly briefings to the Commissioner and representatives from the Minister. The country is scared.

It’s December 31st, 3.31pm
Emergency legislation is passed through the Dáil.

It’s December 31st, 5.03pm
The President signs the legislation into law.

It’s December 31st, 5.41pm
Gardai raid 70 locations in Dublin and arrest over 200 people. Serious criminals are now in the same league as terrorists.

January 22nd, 3.11pm
Special courts hand down the first of the life sentences. He and his colleagues are now in therapy.

May something
Every few weeks he wakes after seeing the child’s arm being put into the yellow surgical bag in the house. Once more he sees her note to Santa, burnt and dirty under his foot. Serious crime has plummeted in Ireland. The vacuum gets filled for a short while by additional laws are so harsh that it isn’t worth it.

It’s December 23rd, 4.10am
The girl in the black bag with her arm beside her in a yellow bag asks him was it worth it. He wakes. He frowns not at the dream but the fact he is so used to it now and he goes back to sleep.

December 25th, 2008 at 8:20 am • Filed in Blogging, Selection Box



Comments

3 Comments to “Selection Box: Damien Mulley “Him””

  1. elfinamsterdam Says:
    December 25th, 2008 at 11:22 am

    Wow, that was amazing… *off to reread*



  2. I wrote some words… « Damien Mulley Says:
    December 25th, 2008 at 12:17 pm

    [...] subscribe to my site using a feedreader or email. Thanks for visiting – Damien.and there’s a slight Christmas theme going [...]



  3. Mike Says:
    December 25th, 2008 at 2:58 pm

    What. The. Feck.



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