Brothers

By Jack Scoltock

Gerard's brother Patrick is autistic. Gerard believes the dolphin in  Dingle in County Kerry can help him.

With a joyrider, who the IRA are after they steal a car and with their girlfriends and Patrick they head to Kerry .

A road story like no other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: james J. Deeney
• Release date: Nov 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393962199

Jack Scoltock

Jack Scoltock is one of Irelands best fantasy writers for children of all ages.He was born in Derry, Northern Ireland in 1942. He is married with two grown-up children.Jack has many books on the Amazon, Smashwords and Draft2digital.A scuba diver for over forty years, Jack was one of the divers who found a Spanish Armada wreck in Donegal in 1971. Inspired by a small leather boot found on the wreck, Jack wrote one of his best historical stories about a boy who stows away on an Armada galleon. The Sand Clocker (Spanish Armada Stowaway), is one of Scoltock’s most popular history books.Now retired, Jack Scoltock spends his free time writing.Challenge of the Red Unicorn, Davey's siege (a siege of Derry story), Perry's Adventure, Justine's Secret Challenge, Seek the Enchanted Antlers, Back To Neverland, are among some of the best of Jacks stories.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The green Peugeot car bulleted into the middle of the dark road with a piercing scream as its tires tore at the ground. When the hand and foot brake were applied together, it swung around and raced back up the road. The driver, a long-haired youth with a scar in the middle of his pale brow turned to grin at his girlfriend, an overly skinny, black-haired girl with a nose ring. The driver’s eyes widened trance-like as the power overcame him, and he did another hand-brake turn. This time the small car almost turned over as it skidded around then shot past the empty shops where a group of teenagers were huddled in the shadows watching.

Whew, did you see that turn? exclaimed a gangly youth with brown hair and freckles. Spike almost turned her over that time.

Aye, whispered Danny admiringly. He was squat, broad-shouldered, and the smallest of the teenagers.

That Spike is crazy, exclaimed Janice. A diamond stud glittered on her stubby nose. He’ll make a mistake some day and be killed.

He can drive though, exclaimed Ronnie, pimple faced and the oldest teenager there. Spike will never get killed driving a car. He’s too good a driver.

He’s a dope, exclaimed Gerard Hume.

Everyone turned to him. His piercing eyes narrowed when Janice, whose face flushed with anger snapped, Spike’s no dope, Gerard. He knows what he’s doing.

Aye, said Danny. The cops haven’t caught him yet, have they? They’ve tried often enough. Didn’t he outrun them last Sunday up in Creggan?

Kelly McCloy, a slim auburn-haired girl studied Gerard as he shook his head slowly and said, Look, it’s only a matter of time. They’ll catch him eventually or he’ll be killed, him and Scat.

That Scat’s a wild one isn’t she? said Danny, turning as the roar of the approaching Peugeot grew louder. Look out, here he comes again!

They hardly dared to breathe, as the car with two of its wheels running along the edge of the high footpath, swung away from the curb and did a sharp turn, then bombed away out of sight.

As the six teenagers stared after it into the darkness, the sound of a distant police siren reached them. Seconds later, the police car, with its blue warning lights flashing, raced around the corner where they scrambled over the low wall that separated the two housing estates.

****

Later as Gerard walked Kelly home, he thought about his five-year-old autistic brother, Patrick. He hoped he wouldn’t pick tonight to have one of his moaning fits. He spat viciously at the footpath as thoughts drifted to Dickhead, his mother’s latest boyfriend. He’d be there.

You’re very quiet tonight, whispered Kelly, gently touching the forearm of his leather jacket.

Frowning he turned to her. Am I? Sorry. I hadn’t noticed. He smiled. He liked Kelly. No, it was more than that.

That Spike’s a weirdo, isn’t he?

Aye.

Why do you think he does it—joyriding?

I heard someone on the television say that joyriding was the wrong word for it, glamorizing it. He said it was really car stealing. And it is, isn’t it?

She studied him. Aye, she said quietly. I wouldn’t like to own the car Spike was driving tonight. He’ll trash it somewhere then put a match to it.

Aye, Gerard agreed quietly, his thoughts back to his brother again.

She frowned as she studied his face. You’re not quite with me tonight are you?

He stopped and reaching took her hand. I’m sorry. You’re right. I was thinking about wee Patrick.

How is he now?

Ach, he’s the same. He spat again. He’ll always be the same. But it’s not really Patrick that’s getting me down. It’s my ma’s new boyfriend. I don’t like him.

Still holding hands they began to walk on. It’s understandable I suppose, she said.

He stopped, feeling anger darkening his usually pleasant face. Is it, he snapped.

I hated my da’s girlfriend at first, she explained. I mean she was half my ma’s age, but now I think she’s really okay. We went shopping together last Saturday morning. Aye, she’s okay.

Is she? Well he’ll never be okay, Dickhead.

Dickhead?

His name’s Richard Head. Imagine. To me he’ll always be Dickhead. They began to walk on again.

My ma’s new boyfriend seems all right, too, she said after a few seconds. They seem really happy together.

He studied her. How are you with it all now? He remembered when Kelly’s parents had separated. She had been distraught. She had been so distraught she had tried to kill herself—to jump from the new bridge. It was lucky someone saw and stopped her.

Okay, I suppose. Well, I’ve accepted my ma and da will never get together again. Aye, I’m okay with it. They both seem happy. They weren’t when they were together. There was a time when I couldn’t stand them fighting. I thought about running away from home. I thought about— She looked away.

You should have told me.

She smiled. We weren’t that close then.

He smiled back. Are we close now?

Still smiling she nodded, and suddenly they were kissing. The lights from a car passing parted them, and they headed on through the housing estate.

It was a cold, early June night, and the sprawling housing estate, one of the biggest in Northern Ireland, stretched almost to the bottom of the silhouetted Donegal hills.

They stopped by the only lamp post in the road that had a bulb cover to protect it. Kelly’s street was adjacent to the main long road that ran almost the full length of the estate.

Do you think Patrick will ever get better? I mean... Her face flushed as if she immediately regretted asking the question.

He stared at her then turned away, his eyes glistening in the lamplight. Patrick will never get better, he said quietly. He turned back. He’d be better off dead.

Oh, don’t say that, she exclaimed. It isn’t right.

He clenched his teeth and pulled away from her. What do you know anyway? It isn’t right the way he is, is it?

No, she whispered, tears bubbling in her sad eyes. She seemed sorry she had started the conversation about Patrick. I’m sorry.

Gerard sighed, then took her hand and smiled. I’m sorry I barked at you. He looked down the street his smile disappearing. He doesn’t like him, you know.

Who? Your ma’s boyfriend?

I overheard him complaining to my ma about the amount of time she spends with Patrick. It was on one of the nights he had a bad moaning fit, and they had to cancel going out.

What did he say?

"That boy would be better off in a home for the mentally