Chapter 127: The Spark I Would Not Deny

The whole hall was on its feet and the whole of it was shouting and Declan stood at the table with his hands flat on the wood and did not say another word.

It took a long time for the hall to go quiet. Tom was shouting at Hannah and Hannah was shouting at the man beside her and the woman from the post office had her hand over her mouth again and Arthur had come down the floor with his stick and was standing in front of Declan and looking up at him.

“Say it again,” Arthur said. “Slowly. In front of me and not in front of the whole of them.”

“I took five hundred pounds out of the co-op’s account on the twenty fifth of June,” Declan said. “I took it out in cash from the branch in Galway and I put it in an envelope and I gave it to the Keeper of the Rolls in his office and he put it in a drawer and he gave me a receipt.” He put his hand in his coat and took out a paper and put it on the table. “This is the receipt. It has his name on it and the date and the sum and it is in his hand. I have been carrying it since the twenty fifth and I have been waiting for a wolf to ask me a question about the money.”

The whole hall was silent.

“Why?” Arthur said.

“Because the Alpha told me to and because I have been a wolf who does what he is told since my father went out in a boat and because there was a boy in this village who was in the hand of the Alpha and because a man who says no is a man who loses his son.” Declan put his hands flat on the table. “That is the whole of it. It is not a good reason. It is the reason.”

Arthur looked at the receipt and then at Declan and then at the whole of the hall.

“There is a thing about a receipt,” he said, “that the whole of this co-op is going to hear and that I am going to say before any wolf in this hall says another word. A receipt is a paper that says a thing was paid. It does not say who paid it. It does not say whether the wolf who paid it was a thief or a wolf who was told to pay it by a woman who was sitting in a chair.” He turned round. “And there is a thing about the five hundred pounds that no wolf in this hall has said out loud. It is not five hundred pounds out of a co-op’s account that is going to hang a Beta. It is a paper that says a woman in a black coat put a wolf in a room with a receipt in his hand and told the co-op he was a thief.”

The whole hall stirred.

Mairéad was standing at the head of the table with her hands folded.

“There is a thing about the Beta,” she said, “that the whole of this co-op has known since 1975. He is a man who does what he is told and he has been a man who does what he is told since his father went out in a boat and there is not a wolf in this hall who has not used him for it.” She put her hand out. “And there is a thing about a man who does what he is told and who is caught doing it. He is not a thief. He is a thing that a thief used. And there is a thing about a thing that a thief used and that is standing in front of a co-op with a receipt in his hand. It is the only thing in this hall that is going to be believed in a room in Galway on the fourteenth.”

The whole hall went quiet.

“Then there is a thing I have to say,” I said, “and I am going to say it from this bench and not from the floor. The whole of what she has just said is true and it is the thing she has been doing since the first night. She takes a wolf who has been used and she says, look at the thing that was used and not at the woman who used it.” I stood up. “And there is a thing about a co-op that has been told that for thirty six years. It has stopped looking at the woman in the chair.”

The whole hall was silent.

“There is a thing about the bond,” Mairéad said, “that no wolf in this hall has said out loud since June. The woman from Dublin is bonded to the Beta and the Beta has just stood in this hall and said he took five hundred pounds out of the co-op’s account. And there is a thing about a bond that a co-op is going to have to look at on the fourteenth. It is a bond between a woman who has been in this village for a month and a man who has been taking money out of it for thirty six years. And there is a thing about a bond like that. It is not a bond. It is a thing that is going to be torn out of the both of them in a room in Galway and there is not a wolf in this hall who is going to be able to say the court did not warn them.”

The whole hall was silent.

I came down the floor and stood beside Declan and put my hand in his.

“There is a thing about the bond,” I said, “that I have been getting wrong since the first night and that I am not going to get wrong in this hall in front of the whole of this co-op. It is not a thing that a court can tear out and it is not a thing that a woman in a black coat can put on a table and it is not a thing that is made of a receipt.” I put my hand flat on my chest. “It is a thing that is made of every hour since the first night. It is made of a man who stood on a rope walk and told me the whole of it when it would have been easier not to. It is made of a woman who went down to a boathouse and pulled a safe out of a well. It is made of a kitchen in a cottage on the shore road at two in the morning and a priest in a sacristy in Galway and a pier at Dun Laoghaire.” I looked at the whole of the hall. “And there is a thing about a bond that is made of that. It is a thing that a court is going to hear the whole of on the fourteenth and it is a thing that I am not going to deny. Not in this hall. Not in Galway. Not in front of nine wolves from nine territories.”

The whole hall went up.

And then Mairéad said, “There is a thing about the fourteenth that the whole of this co-op is going to hear and then I am going to go up to my room and I am not going to come down until the morning. The Court of Alphas is going to sit in Galway on the fourteenth and the whole of the co-op is going to be in the room and the whole of the file is going to be read out loud. And there is a thing about a file that has a receipt in it and a letter that was posted and not followed and a false bond that was made on a boy of nineteen and broken. It is a file that has a wolf in it who is not the Alpha and who is not the heir and who is not the woman from Dublin. It is a file that has the Beta in it.” She put her hand on the table. “And there is a thing about the Beta on the fourteenth. He is going to be in that room and he is going to hear the whole of it read out loud and there is not a wolf in this hall who is going to be able to say he was not warned.”

She went up the floor and out through the green door.

The whole hall was silent.

And then the woman with black hair came down the floor and stood in front of me.

“There is a thing about this night,” she said, “that the court is going to say before it goes back to Galway in the morning. The Court of Alphas has heard a co-op in a hall at midnight and it has heard a woman in a black coat and it has heard the whole of it. And there is a thing about a co-op that has been lied to for thirty six years and that has been in a hall at midnight with a wolf in a chair who has been signing papers and taking money and calling hunters. It is a co-op that is going to have to decide what it is.” She put her hand on my arm. “And there is a thing about a woman from Dublin who has been in that village for a month and who has been in every room in it and who has just said the whole of it in front of the whole of the co-op. She is the only wolf in this hall who is not going to be in that file.”

She went out and the whole of the nine went with her.

The hall emptied slowly. The whole of it, forty wolves and a long table and a frame on the wall and a chair at the head of it, and by two in the morning there was nobody in it but Declan and me.

We sat on the bench at the back with the lamp on the table and the green door open and the sea in the dark outside.

“There is a thing about the fourteenth,” Declan said, “that I have been thinking about since the pier. It is four days away and the whole of the co-op is going to be in a room in Galway and the whole of the file is going to be read out loud. And there is a thing about the file that I have not said to a living soul and that I am going to say to you now because there is a lamp and a bench and nobody in this hall. I am not afraid of the file. I am afraid of the moment the file is read out loud and the whole of the co-op turns round and looks at me.”

I put my hand on his.

“Then there is a thing you have to know,” I said. “When the whole of the co-op turns round and looks at you, I am going to be standing beside you. Not in front of you and not behind you. Beside you.”

Declan put his head back against the wall.

“There is a thing about the bond,” he said. “It has been thin since the pier. It is not thin now.”

I put my hand on my chest and it was not thin. It was warm and it was steady and the whole of it was going two ways.

“There is a thing about the fourteenth,” I said, “that I have been thinking about since the cove. It is a full moon and the whole of the co-op is going to be in a city and there is not going to be a headland and there is not going to be a run. And there is a thing about a pack that does not run on a full moon. It is a pack that is going to have to do the thing a pack does when it is in a hall with a stone floor and a long table and forty wolves in it. It is going to have to shift in the hall.”

Declan turned his head.

“There has not been a shift in a hall in that village since 1901,” he said.

“Then there is a thing about the fourteenth,” I said, “that is going to be the first thing in a hundred years.”