Shieldless

‘We frail humans are at one time capable of the greatest good and, at the same time, capable of the greatest evil. Change will only come about when each of us takes up the daily struggle ourselves to be more forgiving, compassionate, loving, and above all joyful in the knowledge that, by some miracle of grace, we can change as those around us can change too.’

― Mairead Maguire

‘Eh! You’ve got to help me!’ a wide eyed man in rags cried to a stranger. Bloodshot eyes burned into him. Before the surprised stranger could reply, the bawling man howled out in terror and ran further on. The strangers face seemed fixed with an eternal surprise as his eyes followed the crazed old man, and before his patience gave up, he shook his head and continued his way. It was slightly after noon on Sunday, the streets were busy with the season’s traffic and although early, the Dublin streets were overcrowded. A rambling old man running astray shouting ‘Out of my fucking way!’ didn’t change much of the street life. Cursing indistinctly and yelling for help, the raging bull charged the public without any purpose but to run for dear ol’ life.

In total terror, and dashing wildly between people, he pushed an elderly couple aside that blocked his path and they fell crashing into a group of youngsters who immediately called after the rampager. One of the teens took a sprint after him calling him rude names.

    ‘Ye fuckin’ Eejit! Gammy piece of gobshite! Fucking box yer toe ragging puss, ye wanker!’

Dodging through the crowds the youngster quickly gained in on the maniac runner and was able to see large cuts and loose fabric flaying from a dirty jacket. In full horror the youngster all of a sudden registered a baby carriage speeding off towards the edge of the pavement into the rushing Mary Street. Without further thought he jumped in front of it, stopping the carriage just in time on the concrete by letting the carriage collide into him.

Hard. And it was a hard landing. People around him looked abashed as they slowly realised what had just happened in front of their very eyes. A bawling mother cried her discerns as she scooped her baby unharmed out of the carriage. As the teen was crawling up from the pavement, one of his larger friends pushed through the crowd.

    ‘Alright man? Marvin?’ he gave his hand and the teen helped himself up.

    ‘The wanker wrecked me bonce. Bleeding rekdagaf!’ Marvin grimaced as he got up to his feet with aching legs, but managed to keep from limping as he checked his baggy pants for holes. ‘You floosie munter better watch ye whippersnapper!’ Marvin scolded at the mother. ‘If I hadn’t jumped in front of it! Cunt!’

    ‘Oy! Keep yer mingin’ hole shut or I’ll be dug outta ya!’ a petticoated bystander reproached him.

    The woman had only eye for her child and soothed it as it started to cry amidst the lines of people that gathered to see what was happening. Others still tried to go around the standing group of people, scampering on the side of the streets. Bicycles had to break or tried to sneak in the crowded line of cars, creating a fuller chaos with bells and honks.

Wasting no further breath, Marvin ignored the staggering people around him, and looked around wondering where the pusher was. The baby carriage pusher. Oh he’d show that fucker! Standing on his toes, he got a glimpse of the carriage pusher’s torn jacket. Only now in the brief instant, did he notice the black stains. Then the pusher was gone, taken up in the crowd again and the sounds around Marvin took up his attention.

    ‘Bollix! He got away the bogey bad egg tosser.’ Marvin uttered.

    ‘Did you….’ His friend Harvey started but stopped in midsentence and stared over Marvin’s head. Marvin examined the fabric of his white shirt and then lifted his head to Harvey again.

    ‘What the…’ Marvin tried again. The crowd around them dissolved as people hastened on, leaving him anxiously looking around. ‘Cop on gougers, what are you gawking at?’ Marvin said irritated. ‘And you cunt, what are you like? Take care of ye bin lids, yer roger moore.’

    The woman carefully placed her baby in the carriage. Her face carried a deadly grey. She looked up into his baleful gaze filled with scorn and swallowed softly with stinging tears in her eyes. With uncertain purpose she slowly pushed her way through the ongoing crowd with her head down.

    ‘Are ye headin’? That’s the shot.’ The youth added. He thought about spitting on the floor when his other friends came. He turned around and detected the absence of big Harvey and could make out the large white shape of him further in the mass of people disappearing around a corner. Something was happening there and he went off in a dash again and quickly came round the corner into Jervis Street.

A bit further on, Marvin could see Harvey as his big shining beacon, and he pressed through the standing people until he saw the spectacle which was unfolding. He stopped dead in his tracks. The pusher in ragged cloths was just ahead shrieking and yelping, swaying his arms to ward off unseen offenders.