The Spirit of Christmas – or Saturday Night after the Christmas Fair (cont)

And in the waiting I felt the slow rage build. And impatience with the gawking teens grew into irritation which flamed into anger and then washed lava-like over the boy who pushed me against the curry house door jamb as he laughed and jostled for a better view.

I grabbed him and pushed him back with an acid fury. Have some fucking respect. It
s not a fucking freak show ya little prick . That guy could die.

Surprised, he recovered himself and laughed me off and I stood there, struggling with a visceral craving to do him some violence.

They all eyed me warily. A couple laughed. Haw Grum whit u daen tae that wummin? Is she no auld enuff tae be yer maw?

Ha fucking ha I thought.

A feral crowd was gathering. Emitting high yips and laughs. Some girl was squealing. Something about jist lovin yer converse man. Am gonna git a per lik that tae.

I felt the ground shudder. Supping blood. But the moon still shone. St Nick still leapt. 

Robert remained across the road. Bent over the body. I shifted away from the gathering crowd. Stood looking at the menu. Guilty. Struggling to recall why I was there in the first place. What was a curry? Where was the greedy joy of self-indulgence?

A worried wee face from over the other side of the high counter said dae yi think somebuddies cawed the polis? Dae yi think hell be awright? 

A don’t know hen I said. And I didn’t.

7 thoughts on “The Spirit of Christmas – or Saturday Night after the Christmas Fair (cont)

  1. It's a terrible story and really evocative story telling.

    The punk that jostled you needed his ears boxed…sounds like they all needed scattering.

    It's just sickening to think of someone's life being done like this in circumstances that are going to seem utterly pointless…even to teenager…in the light of day.

  2. It is strange how the experience immediately made me want to write it down. Maybe that's an attempt to “understand” it – make sense of what had happened.
    I understand that there is no sense or meaning to it at all.
    I responded with such a fury! I wanted to shake them all.
    Which is ironic given the violence I had just witnessed.
    R was more practical. He seemed able to accept that there was little to be done.
    Turns out the victim was a local minor criminal irritant. This seems to have been a “comeuppance” crime. He was getting a taste of his own medicine.
    Regardless – nobody deserves what happened.
    (btw – this is a normal peaceful town, honest!)

  3. A very disturbing event brilliantly captured which would have shaken me and stayed with me and yes I think wanting to write it down is about wanting to understand it.
    But is there any meaning to it? People talk about mindless violence.
    If anyone can find meaning in it you can Yvonne.

  4. I suspect, Yvonne, that most of us will never quite understand the meaning even people with your professional experience. In fact perhaps even more people with your professional experience because you see so much more of it than many of us do.

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