Sunday, April 1, 2012
Arby Quinn - Oh Cousin, Where art thou?
I don't have much in the way of family, when I left Tipperary countless moons ago to seek my fortune I haven't received so much as an apologetic epistle from my estranged parents. Well, they have a motor shop to run, they're busy people so I try not to get hung up on it.
They ask me, “Arby, does that mean you're all alone out here in the untamed wilds of Offaly?” Well, the answer is no and not purely because of Sean the scorpion and his band of merry criminals there's also Richy. I didn't even know I had a cousin until he turned up out here, looking for me, well, looking for somewhere to hide out for a few weeks. Seems his mother, my aunt, had alerted him to the existence of a cousin in Offaly around the same time he fell foul of a small army of out of pocket jazz musicians.
“Arby” he said to me, arriving at my doorstep on one especially rainy night. “Let me in!”
“Who”, I said, “are you?” I was especially anxious at the thought of a stranger entering my domicile as the last vagabond I had shown kindness to had eloped with my favourite stick and five of my finest legumes.
“Me, I'm Richy. Your cousin!”
“Well, come in then.” Nobody would go around claiming to my relation if there wasn't some truth to it.
We sat by my cracked stove which still held some heat in it and he told me about himself between despairing glances at my rustic domain. He said he was on the run and that he needed to stay somewhere, anywhere. He asked if I knew of somewhere habitable he could go to, I asked him if I knew of somewhere like that would I would be living in my shack.
But, I reassured him, it was a decent shack, the best I'd ever had in fact and, my magnanimous nature overcoming my anxiety, I offered him lodgings with me for as long as he liked. He laughed jovially at my generous offer and told me stories of his life in Dublin, of central heating and fast food.
Well, he stayed a night before leaving for a Bed and Breakfast but as we parted he gave me his thanks and a small square of cardboard. He told me to look him up if I ever made my way to the great city of Dublin. Something I will surely do someday once I can afford the plane ticket.