Boondock Saints [Chapter Two - Saint Patrick's Day Gone Wrong]

I watched intently as Doc and Connor stared at each other, Connor had his arms placed across his brothers chest along with four other friends. They were seeing which man would cave in first, and it looked as if it was going to be a draw. Ebony was chatting up a storm in one corner with some of the other female workers from the factory while I stood behind the counter and watched what went on.
Connor was mimicking Docs voice. "Would someone please come over here..." and he said, keeping his gaze on the seventy year old man.
"Fuck!" exclaimed Doc, the 'F' word was one of two words he used because of his Tourette syndrome. His second word was Ass.
"Me up the..." Connor continued.
"Ass!"
Everyone erupted with laughter, hell even I did. Sure it was mean to laugh at a seventy year old with that kind of illness, but it was just funny as hell. Doc started throwing ice at everyone, angered that everyone had laughed at him. I pulled out a glass and poured a Guinness into it and set it before Connor who took it with great pleasure. He placed both of his hands on my face and pulled my head forward to kiss my forehead.
Reluctantly I pulled myself back and quickly went back to serving the other customers of McGinty's. Just as I left the safety of behind the bar stand, one more person walked through the door. His chin was covered with a thick dark brown beard with a mustache to match it; he had dark brown hair that reached just below his earlobes.
His name was David Della Rocco; he was the package boy for the Italian mafia and was crowned Funny Man to his boss, Papa Joe Yakavetta. "Hey, Fuck Ass, get me a beer!" he shouted, which caused everyone to laugh harder and this caused Doc to throw more ice at everyone.
One thing I hated about him was the fact that although he had a girlfriend, he still hit on me and Ebony. Sure he was a good friend and he made us laugh, Ebony and I had no attraction to him what so ever. "Hey babe," he said, eying me like a piece of meat.
I gave him a disgusted look and went back to doing my job. "Don't ye have a girl, Rocco? I'm sure she wouldn't ye to be with another woman." I had a point.
"Ah c'mon. She wont know unless you tell her."
"And I will tell her Rocco. I grew up in a strict house with a strict family. And the number one rule for us all was that were not allowed to lie." Before my Ma had passed away, when I was only in grade school, she told me that in our family we weren't allowed to lie about anything and that went for how we truly felt about someone. But there were somethings I just couldn't tell her, not even when she was on her death bed telling me how I was such a wonderful daughter for being so truthful.
I felt my heart sink lower than ever. It had been eighteen years since she died, and for eighteen long years I dealt with a drunkard for a Da until I finally moved out and found a place with Ebony, right next door to Connor and Murphy and somehow all four of us had managed to have a small get together every Friday night and get drunk off our asses.
"Aislinn, hey, Aislinn!" some called out to me. I looked up to see Connor staring at me.
"Huh?" I replied. I must of spaced out while everyone was talking.
"Ye okay? Ye don look so good."
"'tis nothing ye need to worry yourself over Connor. I'm fine. Really I am." I didn't want anyone worrying about me at all. On my Da's side of the family, the rule was everyone takes care of themselves. But I didn't like that rule at all so I defied it.


* * *


By closing time, Ebony and I were cleaning up the trashed pub. The only people left in the joint were Rocco, Ebony, Connor, Murphy, Connor and Murphy's four friends, Doc, and I. Ebony was putting the chairs upside down on the tables she had just cleaned. I was mopping up the floor. On St. Paddy's Day fights usually break out and its mostly the Irish who wind up in the hospitals, but even after all the fights, who ever they'd get into a fight with, they all ended up as friends about three hours later.
As I finished mopping up the last of the spilled beer on the floor, I put the mop and bucket back in the supply closet and took my seat right behind the bar with Ebony and Doc. Rocco was having a conversation about something with Connor. "Its not that I'm homophobic. I'm just afraid of faggots."
I raised an eyebrow at the man sitting before me. "What do ye think homophobic means, ye dumb ass? Phobic derives from the word phobia which means fear of and homo means man, there for you are homophobic!"
Connor looked at me then to Rocco with a pause then burst out laughing. "She sure schooled your ass Roc."
"And I don't think the homosexual community enjoys being called faggots you damn wop!" yes I said it, I called Rocco a wop. I didn't feel any remorse for what had come out of my mouth. Connor laughed even harder.
We were all wasted. Even Doc himself was drunk, but we were having fun.
Our fun however was cut short by Doc. "I got some bad news. Looks like I'm going to have to close d-down the bar. The Russians have been buying up buildings all over town, including this one. Fuck! Ass! And they're not letting me renew my lease. I got 'til the end of the week t' come up with twenty-six thousand dollars, or they take the place. I left a note tellin' 'em not to show their faces t-tonight. They been pressuring me t' close and the last few days t' get all my shit outta here but its my right to stay t' the last."
Everyone was quiet. McGinty's is going be t be closed because the Russians want the building? "What the hell!? Doc, ye can't give up the bar! All the memories we've had here, they're going be erased just because the Russians want half the buildings in town!?"
Rocco spoke up. "Let me talk to my boss, maybe I can--"
"Ye keep the Italian mafia out o' this Rocco!" I shouted. Ebony was drying the glasses on the other side of Doc. If it was one thing I hated about the Italian mob, it was the fact that if you asked a favor of them the expect you to do their biding, and I was one Irish lass who wasn't about to go crawling on my knees to Yakavetta.
"L-l-listen I don't wan anyone t' know until the last possible moment. So you guys keep your traps shut. Ye know what they say; People who live in glass houses sink ships."
We stopped our chattering to look at Doc with a quizzical look. "Y'know Doc, I gotta get you a, a, like a proverb book or something. This mix and match shits gotta go," Rocco said, pulling out a pack of smokes, taking one out and lighting it up.
Doc gave him a questioning look. "What?" he asked.
Everyone chuckled. "Leave him alone Rocco," I muttered under my breath. Murphy must have heard me because he glanced over at me with a questioned look but I shrugged it off.
"A p-penny saved is worth two in the bush," Connor mimicked Docs voice.
Murphy did the same. "Don't c-cross the road if ye cant get out of the kitchen," he said. Everyone laughed a bit harder. I glared at both the boys and got off my stool to wipe something off the counter that one of the friends had spilled on the counter top.
I was in the middle of wiping down the counter when the door opened and in stepped three large Russian men dressed in suits. Ebony hid behind Doc while I stood there and eyed them down. "Sorry sir, were closed."
"I am Ivan Checkov. And you will be closing now," he said, completely ignoring what I had said. He had a thick Russian accent that grated on my nerves.
There was a long silence that filled the air but Murphy broke that be saying, "This is McCoy... We find Spock and got enough for an away team."
Everyone laughed. I just stared at the three large Russian men. Placing my hand under the counter, I grasped the handle of the semi automatic hand gun. I was ready to pull it out and shoot the bastards dead if they tried to start anything. Murphy and Connor were drunk, just about everyone of us was drunk except Ebony who had sworn off of liquor since she was eight. Connor and his brother, being the drunk bastards they were, were going to make this situation worse within seconds. Just like at the meat packing plant.
"Oh, how extraordinary. A bunch of Irishmen... And they are being drunken idiots. You are killing the stereotype. I'm in no mood for discussion," he said, then pointed to Doc, Ebony, and myself. "You! You three stay. The rest of you go now."
My grip on the gun tightened. "Пожалуйста sirs, добросердечно оставляют адвокатскя сословие. Мы не хотим никакую тревогу от вас или ваших друзей." ("Please sirs, kindly leave the bar. We want no trouble from you or your friends.")
Ivan looked at me and smirked. "No."
"Why don't you make like a tree and get the fuck outta here!" shouted Doc to the Russian men.
I and everyone else rolled our eyes at Docs blunder; Ebony slapped her forehead and ran her hand down her face. "Calm down Doc. I'm sure they're reasonable fellows," stated Connor in a calm demeanor. I watched as he and Murphy each grabbed a Guinness and a shot of Hennessey and walk up to the three large men with the peace offering.
That bad feeling I had this morning came back tenfold. "Listen fellas," he said. "Y'know hes got 'til this weeks end. Ye don't have t' be hard asses, do ye?" Connor asked.
"Yeah," Murphy said, a smile on his face. "It's St. Paddy's day. Everyones Irish tonight. Now, why don't ye pull up a stool and have a drink with us?" he offered. Both the twins holding the drinks out to them.
"You insult me. I would never drink that sewage. Especially with you people. You are fools." Checkov slapped the drinks from the boys hands. Well, that was a waste of good alcohol. "This is no game! If you wont go, we will make you go!" he exclaimed.
I could see the looks the boys were giving each other. They were still holding the shot glasses of Hennessey. "If ye want a fight, ye can clearly see you're out numbered. We're tryin' t' be civil here, so I suggest ye take our offer," Connor said calmly.
They were up to something and Ebony seemed to sense it too. We watched intently as the scene lay out before us.
"I make the offers, asshole," Checkov said, now completely angered.
Rocco pushed himself away from the bar and placed himself between Connor and Murphy. "Hey there, Boris. What would you say if I told you that your pinko, commie mother sucked so much dick--"
WHAM
I cringed. Checkov had punched Rocco in the face, causing the Italian to fall backwards unconscious. Ebony gasped in shock and I was stunned.
"Теперь, то не было слишком вежливо, было оно?" ("Now, that wasn't too polite, was it?") stated Connor is flawless Russian, just like I had before.
"Я испуган мы не может препятствовать что одно идет, Ivan," ("I'm afraid we cant let that one go, Ivan,") stated Murphy, he too spoke flawless Russian.
Ivan was taken aback by their knowledge of the Russian language. Even the other Irishmen were impressed.
Connor, on the right, and Murphy, on the left, tapped shot glasses against each other in a kind of cheers and threw back the Hennessey. Wrapping their hands completely around the thick empty glasses to form fists and dropped to one knee and socked Checkov in the place where it hurt most for any man. The bald Russian was down for the count.
I jumped over the counter as the boys took on the other two Russians. Quickly, Connor had his man dismantled and Murphy still fighting the guy he had taken on. The others and I wanted to jump in and help him, but Connor held us back yelling, "Let the boy go. He knows what the fuck hes doing!"
We backed off and started to cheer him on. The Russian, Vladdy, now had Murphy backed against a wall and pulled back, exhausted, for one good punch. Murphy took this to his advantage and read up behind him with both hands and pulled two bottles of wine off the wall rack and swung them around toward each other, using Vladdy's head as the meeting point.
The bottles haphazardly connect on each side of the mans head. The Russian crumpled to the ground in the explosion of glass and wine. "Nicely done, boy!" Connor exclaimed proud of his brother.
Everyone was silent from the shock.

* * *


[Morning After]

I rubbed my eyes. Last night had been one hell of a night. Seeing as I was the first one up I left the loft and went to go check on the MacManus brothers. I softly knocked on the door and was given a groan for a reply.
Last night must have caused the boys to hide under the covers. Jiggling the handle, the door gave way and creaked open. I poked my head in to see two lumps in separate beds. "Connor, Murphy, get up."
Murphy stirred from under the covers and slurred some words together that sounded like "toss off and jog on". I walked to Connor's bed and squatted right next to where his head should be. Leaning in close I started to whisper something into his ear that would even cause the gayest man in Boston to turn straight.
I jumped back as Connor sat up like a post postmortem body in a mortuary. "You're horrible," he muttered, his breathing calming down.
I smiled at him. "They didn't call me Demon for nothing back in Ireland." I stuck my tongue out at him. Now it was Murphy's turn to suffer my wrath. I got up from Connor's bedside and went to the still sleeping Murphy MacManus.
I sat next to his lump of a form on the mattress and ran my index finger up his spine which caused him to straighten out like a two-by-four under the covers. "Not cool O'Reilly!" he hollered from under the blankets.
"Then get your ass up! Ebony and I are going to the docks for a bit." I got off the bed and walked out of the door and went back to my room where I found a now fully dressed Ebony. She was dressed in black. Black denim jeans covered her legs and a black tank top covered her abdomen. Her hair was tied up in a messy pony tail.
"I'm gonna go to the coffee shop. Want the usual?" she asked, slipping on her black ratty old converse shoes.
"Aye."
She left the loft. I started pulling on my clothes which consisted of a black sleeveless turtle neck that covered my abdomen, a pair of black camouflage cargo shorts, and a sleeveless black trench coat that was covered in buckles. I too slipped on my black ratty old converse on and headed out the door, locking it on my way down the stairs.
Today was going to be a good day, I could feel it in my bones.
I met up with Ebony at the small coffee shop just four blocks away from our apartment building. She handed me a cardboard paper cup full of piping hot liquid. I took a sip and winced. "Damn that's hot. But nothing wakes ye up better then black Irish coffee."
"It's like you and your cigarette thing... Ew."
"Bah, ye don't know what you're missing."
"I think I do, and I plan to keep it that way." Ebony chuckled.
We left the coffee shop and headed down towards the docks to watch the fishing boats leave for their expeditions. It was also where Ebony and I scrapped a few extra bucks to pay off our rent when we were on our days off.
But our trip was interrupted by a girl with brown hair and green eyes running towards us. "Help me! Please!" she cried, hiding behind us as two large ugly bald men came up to us.
"Mutts need to be exterminated so hand the girl over."
"Last I checked, everyone had a right to live. Now why don't ye get your ugly faces out o' my sight before last nights contents come up and land on your pretty little shoes." It was too damned early for this. I went to take a sip of my drink, but mid way the cup was knocked from my hand by one of the gorillas' that stood in front of me. "Lass," I said, getting the girls attention.
"Huh?" she replied, startled and confused at my attention towards her.
"It's better t be a coward for one minute then t' be dead for the rest o' your life. As an Irishman it is your obligation to take nothing personal unless your friends and family are messed with, then it's a whole new story." With quick reflexes I punched the guy who had knocked my drink out of my hand square in the jaw and watched him fall backwards right into his buddy. "Ye want t' be messin' with me now boyo? 'Cause if so then bring it on!" I shouted.
Both men stared at me with wide eyes. "Boo!" I waved my arms up and down like a mad man and both men took off like the cowards they were.
Ebony and I turned to face the girl we had just met. "And who might be ye be?" I asked, pulling a pack out of my coat pocket and placed a cylinder between my lips. "Where the hell did it go?" I muttered, patting down both coat pockets and pants pockets down to find my lighter.
Ebony pulled a lighter from nowhere and lit the little bugger for me. "Thanks."
"No problem."
"My name is Ayane. Thanks for getting those two off my back. They seem to have a thing against Irish-Japanese half breeds," she stated, scratching the back of her head.
My pocket started vibrating. "For the love of the Virgin Mary!" I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and answered it. "'Ello?"
"Aislinn? Is that ye?" Came the sound of Connors voice.
"Who else would be answering my phone?!" I snapped at the receiver. "Sorry, lost my temper. Whats up Connor?"
"Can ye meet Rocco at the police station?"
"What did ye and Murphy do?" I asked, looking from Ebony to the young girl before me. I hadn't left the apartment building for more than five minutes, and already the boys had gotten themselves thrown into the slammer. Again, it was too damned early in the morning for this to be happening.
"Can ye just meet him?" he asked, totally avoiding my question.
I stayed silent.
"Can you?" he pressed on, not liking my long pause.

"Aye." I hated the police station. Nine years ago I had tried to place a restraining order on my father for abuse, but when they showed up at our door, my Da passed it off as me rough housing around which had caused the bruises and scars that adorned my body when in truth it was he who had caused these.
"Thank ye." He hung up.
"Damn it!" I shouted, startling both the seven teen year old girl and Ebony.
"What happened?" Ebony asked, noticing my annoyed expression.
"The boys are at the station. I have t' meet Rocco there upon the request of the almighty Connor MacManus himself," I said, mocking a curtsy as I said his name.
Ebony groaned.
"Exactly my point!" I exclaimed, blowing the smoke that I had held in my lungs out into the open air. "I don want t' go down t the station for one good reason and you know damned well as I do for the reason. So you go for me, please?" I asked, staring at my friend with big hazel eyes.
"Fine. But you owe me big time O'Reilly!" she shouted, stalking off towards the direction of the police station.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, taking one more puff from the hazardous cancer stick and snubbing it out on the bottom of my shoe. I looked up to see Ayane still standing there staring at me. "May I help ye?" I asked, looking at her with raised eyebrows.
"Can I hang out with you until I have to go home?" she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She looked nervous, almost uneasy about something.
"Aren't ye supposed t' be in school?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets.
Her gaze lowered. "I can't go to school."
"Why?"
"The kids make fun of me because I'm half Japanese and half Irish."
A disgruntled sigh escaped my lips. "Okay. But only for today. Next time follow the words of the Irish, The Irish ignore what they can't drink or punch."
A small smile graced her thin lips. "Thanks. By the way, what's your name?" she asked.
"Aislinn."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."


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Ta-da! There's Chapter 2! Oh! And Happy Fuckin' Birthday Taylor-chan!