Confessions of a Stranger

Confessions of a Stranger ©

By

Michael Casey

Now as I said yesterday I met a nice County Tyrone lady at the bus stop, her accent was very similar to the County Donegal accent. The Donegal accent I know because one of our lodgers was from there, he’s gone 40 years now and I’m still praying for his soul. He gave me a watch for passing the 11plus exam, hence my love of watches, he gave it to me before the exam in fact. I knew him 20 years, and he was almost like an uncle for me, in fact I saw more of him that all of my relatives combined. Some thought he was married to my mum as dad always worked such long hours and went and returned home in darkness, so the lodger was seen more often. I used to mock his accent and he’d say “ach ye, you young pup” we retuned his body to Killybegs 9^th August 1980 is his date of death, so if you visit you can go and say a pray with him, and besides Killybegs is so very pretty.

Now enough of my memories, it’s strange how you can tell a total stranger your innermost secrets. Is that what we do in Confession as it’s good for the soul? Though nobody goes nowadays, so the priest is left to read his Don Camillo as he sits in the box all alone. Mass attendance in Ireland used to be 90%, standing room only, like Christmas Mass, but every single Sunday. Sadly sick priests meant people voted with their feet, and instead of one day of casting out demons it takes forever, the boil must be lanced. However the Church is led by 80 year olds, just as White Rich Men rule USA. And as Richard Reiss if I got his name right, says the biggest constituency is the Stay at Home non Voters.

Enough of the Politics, though I confess I almost joined a Political Party, I attended a meeting and the raffle was for an ash try. It was was the Monster Raving Loony Party, no it wasn’t it was for the party that won in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, chapter 9.

I was going to say how on a bus or on a train you can observe the strangest of things. In the old days smoking was allowed upstairs, so obviously I avoided that. The smallest hint of smoke and I heave, though years ago 20 to 30 years ago I used to go and see bands in very smoky upper rooms.

But back to the bus, obviously I like a natter, and I like to be witty, maybe that’s not what people think as they ignore me and move away. But at least I always get a space, a seat. Though mainly I can strike up a conversation. And that’s the point, you may never see that person again,so you can confess. I stole the priest bicycle, really? Yes, when?

1930. We were in Lourdes in 1981 I think it was, and we got talking to the priest, he was a Kerryman. I have a photo somewhere, the crew were from Bolton and me and my sister tagged along. It turned out as a lad my uncles had stolen the priest’s bike as his family were quite rich.

My dad’s was a family of 10 kids, hence its now the Casey Clan, 40 1^st cousins, I’m the second youngest of all of them. So 50 years later we had heard the story finally. Some things you cannot make up. I suppose subconsciously I got the idea for a priest blackmailing a policeman in Butcher Baker Undertaker because of that family tale.

But where was I, I think I missed my stop on the bus. Well I’ll just have to annoy somebody else, it passes the time. You can share a guilty secret on the bus, you’ll never meet the old lady again. I killed my gran and buried her under the patio is a good opening. Then you say the dog kept on digging her up, as it was a retriever, it always brought things back. Though less and less and more and more smelly. Now you’ll either get a laugh, or she’ll whisper to the bus driver and he’ll drive directly to the Police Station. Which is handy as that’s where the best chip shop is, right next door.

And that’s how I met Edna, female Police dog handler and her dog Biff. She came back to my place straight away, not for anything kinky in handcuffs, though I did arrive in handcuffs. But they believed what the old lady told them and started digging up my patio. Which was great as I could never have afforded to pay anybody. After 4 feet deep the Police gave up, but it was perfect as a new fish pond, like that bloke on Beyond One Hundred Days. And I could keep my Stella Artois cool, I also leant a few tricks with handcuffs, while Biff did the doggy paddle in my newly dug pond.

And what happened to the old lady? Well she was arrested and placed in a secure facility. A bit cruel maybe. Well actually it was not,because as I missed my stop on the bus I stayed on the no.11 Outer Circle Birmingham, all 22 miles of it. The old lady rode the buses as it was warmer than her home. I told her about my dreams. And that is what we did, I confess it was a conspiracy between us. Con means with in Latin and Spire means breath.As you are huddled together breathing each other’s breath. Thank you Mr Procter Latin 2F, 1971 maybe.

The old lady’s case would take months to investigate, meanwhile I was handcuffed with my Policegirl, a match made in Heaven. Though you try 3 in a bed, whenthe 3^rd one is a Police dog called Biff.