CHAPTER
TWENTY TWO
Cú Meets the Dubs
Mickser looked around approvingly.
"Yes Copplestown, God's own country and poppillated
by de flower of his childher, de salt o' de earth, a good
place de search for Grey Macha. An' who knows, we might
even get a lead on de chariot as well."

A large, rugged, balding,
middle-aged man, clad in baggy trousers and soiled vest,
emerged from one of the houses and hurried across the
grass towards them smiling broadly. In a deep, coarse
voice he greeted Mickser from afar..
"Ah, Mickser me oul segotia! I heard ye were out in
de Hospice dryin' out this last few months."
"Ah, how'ya Nedzer," cried Mickser brightly.
"Here y'are lads. This is an oul' mate o' mine,
Nedzer Buckley, de biggest spoofer between here an' de
Great Smoky Mountains."
After the introductions Laeg, Farbeg and Homofeeb slipped
away to join the little children at their play. They
flocked around the three men, fascinated at their
colourful dress. All over the green the little ones were
abandoning their games and rushing to the three
Ulstermen.

Homofeeb, with an
apologetic smile, gently took a red tin whistle from one
of the small boys and essayed a few scales and arpeggios
on the unfamiliar instrument. He licked his fingers,
placed the feadóg (tin whistle) in his mouth and
launched into a skirling reel.
Mickser turning to Nedzer, fixed him with a frown.
"Will y' be serious for a minute, me friend here is
lookin' for a valuable horse and a chariot that was
rawbed offa him," said Mickser in the parlance of
Dublin's petty criminal fraternity, who don't know, and
care even less, about the difference between robbing and
stealing.
Nedzer, put his arm around Mickser's shoulders.
"Ah, sure ye know yerself, how right y' are t'start
lookin' here."
Turning to Cúchulainn, Nedzer explained.
"De lads an' lassies here, as horse owners, would
have der ears t'de ground about annyting t'do wit de
nags. Dey do have a great interest in de gee-gees."

"Where do they get
the horses? Rustle them?" Quipped Mickser.
"Ah, norratall," said Nedzer, addressing
Cúchulainn again. "Dey do buy dem cheap down in de
market from de travellin' community. Long ago dem
travellers would've butchered the oul nags for der skins,
hooves an' bones. Dats when some o' dem was bona fide
knackers an' tinkers. Nowadays dey would butcher and skin
annyone who called dem by dem professional names."

Farbeg, bored with the
conversation, broke into a wild dance that included
somersaults, hand springs and cartwheels. The children,
still gathered around, clapped and shrieked with delight.
Mickser gave Nedzer a
playful punch on the shoulder.
"Leave the kids to play with the jester, now will
y'kindly explain how they can afford t'feed and stable de
horses? Sure they're not belongin' t'wealt'y families. A
horse'd ate a workin' man's family ou'a house an' home,
f'jay's sake."
"Dey started off just grazin' dem on de greens in de
various housin' estates, and they'd spend some o' der
dole money on feed like oats an' bran. In fact, they're
after givin' a new lease o' life t'de horse-feed thrade;
and of course de grain merchants and de blacksmits and
even de vets give them all de help dey can in de way of
advice and skills; and they in turn get support from
guv'mint agencies because its helpin' t'keep de yoot ou'a
mischief."
Mickser dropped the repartee.

"Sure dat's powerful
news altogether Nedzer, has it all done you yerself anny
good?"
"I meself, person'ly, like, is in charge of the
harness-makin'. The guv'mint yoot trainin' crowd has
opened a leather workshop t'teach them how t'make their
own gear."
"Well, bedad, tings is lookin' up all right."
"Ah, but dat's not de half of it. De best news of
all is dis:
An American fillum company is after settlin' permanently
in Ireland and dey are goin' t' build stables an'
corrals, an' even pay de kids a sorta retainer an'
expenses, wit de added chance of bein' employed as extras
in de fillums."

"Well, that's great
news for de young people," said Mickser
enthusiastically as he looked over to the crowd gathered
around his friends, "but meanwhile, me friend here
has a horse an' chariot t'find."
Suddenly a posse of teenagers on ponies, riding bareback,
came galloping round a corner into the estate and reined
in at the centre of the green. A slim young lad of twenty
or so broke away from the group and wheeled his bay pony
over towards Nedzer and Mickser.
As Cúchulainn came over
to see what was going on the lad regarded him with open
curiosity, and an amused smile spread across his freckled
face as Laeg joined them.

"How'ya Nedzer,"
he chortled brazenly, conducting a head-to-toe appraisal
of Cúchulainn. "Is yer men there witcha from
Buckin'am Palace? Or are yiz off to de fancy dress dance
in Carousers' Night Club?"

Cúchulainn, catching the
drift of the Dublin dialect and the innocuous intent of
the verbal horseplay, smiled indulgently, and Seán
turned his attention to Nedzer again.
"De American fillum crowd is shootin' an ancient
Irish battle scene up in Thrawfadda in County Louth. Dey
were here t'day lookin' over de horses wit a view t'usin'
them. But no piebalds, they said. Dem'll be fine for
Indian horses in de westerns, is what they said."
Nedzer grinned from ear to ear.
"Gor dat's great news! How did y' get on wit' oul'
Trigger der? Sure he's norra piebald?"
"Dey told me dey'll give Trigger a try and see how
he takes to a chariot."
Cúchulainn and Laeg suddenly took a fresh interest. The
charioteer's face lit up.

"A chariot did you
say?"
"Y'were sayin', about Trigger and de chariot
...." urged Nedzer.
"I was sayin' dat if Trigger takes to the chariot,
dey'll hire 'im, and me as an extra. Dey said they'd give
me trainin' in drivin' a chariot, an' if dey tink I'm up
to it, I'm in business. Looks like me an' oul' Trigger is
goin' t' be in de movies!"
Mickser addressed Cúchulainn in a confidential whisper.
"I get de feelin' we should take a trip up t'dis
Thrawfadda place and look over de gee-gees an' de
chariots. Meanwhile I'll get one o' de kids t'keep an eye
out for oul' Grey Macha in de market."
Cúchulainn nodded.
"Good thinking Mickser, get your young friend to
keep a handful of barley soaked in honey and rainwater
about him. If Grey Macha is within a hundred yards he'll
smell it and come at a canter. Let them feed him the
mixture and then leap on his back. He'll come straight to
me no matter where I am. And no human power will stop
him."
The following day, the search continued for Grey Macha
and the Chariot. The time travellers sat on a bus heading
north from Hurdleford towards Bridgeford, both of which
were once shallow river crossings, now known to the
people of the twentieth century as Dublin and Drogheda.

This was the first stage
of their journey to the film location on Thraw Fada (Long
Beach). The bus was full of mainly elderly men and women.
However, four noisy, rough-looking young men in the
rearmost seat were swigging from cider bottles, singing
bawdy songs and shouting obscenities.

As the city gradually
thinned into open countryside the bus got stuck behind a
herd of cows. The quartet in the back got drunker and
louder but when passengers complained to the driver he
shrugged telling them quietly:
"I've seen their kind before, it won't be long 'til
they get as sick as parrots or doze off. Then they won't
be so chirpy when they wake up."
After a brief, false promise of motorway, they were
travelling north along a winding country road.
Occasionally, vulgarly designed bungalows and big,
ostentatious ranch-type houses drifted by the windows,
evidence of a growing population of nouveau riche.

As these visual discords
flashed past the windows of the bus, the bus driver
gripped the wheel more tightly. The four yobs, whose
interest extended little further than their bottles, had
removed their jumpers and tied them around their waists
by the sleeves in what they intended, as Cúchulainn
judged, to be a threatening display of their musculature.

The noticeably largest of
the four could, with an intensive regimen of diet,
exercise and regular sleep, Cúchulainn thought, become a
prime physical specimen. As it was, he showed all the
signs of a degenerate, overindulgent, slothful lifestyle.
Blotchy complexion, puffy eyes, bad teeth and a
prodigious overhang of belly.

The bus gained speed and
Cúchulainn twitched his own enormous biceps and pectoral
in a rhythmic pattern, the Ulster warrior smiled at the
pathetic posturing of these pale, nocturnal city
creatures but Mickser whispered nervously.

"These gougers seem
to be on the lookout for aggro."

Oh no! If these cider
swilling yobs think they can 'mess' with Cúchulainn can
you imagine what could happen?!! Log on Sunday 12th
September for further chapters.
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