The boondock saints - BLACK
I'm outside your house , 2am it's dark , so many mistakes , come back home from bars , i am on your side , I just want to tell you off . So many lies are taking hold , it's not your fault , there's many scars.
Pete Yorn - On your side - musicforthemorningafter- Columbia
1#
The rain fell hard upon the asphalt, while two men slowly searched their way through chockful, wet garbage bags that were put there by the occupiers of the illegal , overcrowded , cheap renting pawns to be taken by the refuse collector the next morning .
The two men were soaked , just like everything that had spent the night outside . Their heads were full with the hard haze that the booze had given them , their tongues poisoned with the bitter taste . All life on the street had died away , apart from the siren of an ambulance in far away streets , and the buzzing of an air-conditioning .
He wondered why for heaven's sake anybody needed the air-conditioning in these cold streets of Boston , where in wintertime inside it could often get colder than outside . His eyes followed the slow movements of his brother , looked at the black hair that was glued to his skull , afterwards looked at his miserable woolen trenchcoat that had started to become fluffy because of the pouring rain and then he looked to his face .
Little baby brother of me , he thought . You will never realize , that I'm gradually having enough this . Of this all .
" What's up , Connor ? " He halted , turned around and attentively looked at his brother , just as he could settle his thoughts by taking up every millimeter of his brother's face .
"Your head is giving you orders , but your limbs carry them out ten times delayed . " He tapped with his index finger on his head . " You've been drinking too much once again . "
The rain still fell hard upon them , drops came upon his eyes , his eyebrows , his hair . Connor looked at his brother sadly for a moment , then got back into step .
They didn't walk fast . What did it matter , when you were soaked anyway ?
One of them halted . It was Murphy . Murphy , with his typical Northern Irish hair color , his narrow eyes and his tick Irish accent .
" The fuck . There IS something wrong with you Connor . In the past you always knew the fuck to stop drinking right on time . One beer and that was it . I don't fucking get it . "
The light of a lone street lantern fell upon his brother's face , where he read an emotion that seemed too strange to him already , and that scared his guts out of him . Twins , they were , familiar with every emotion , with every single common thought they had shared though their toddler and teen years out in the cold and dangerous streets of Boston .
" Let's go home , Murph .I'm tired . " It came out of him like a breath of wind , and disappeared as quickly .
2#
The water of the showers disappeared rattling in the drain-pipe , while the two brothers dried off their lean bodies , their arms tired of the events of the day , their heads and eyes too weary to stay awake .
Then they pulled on white , worn-out boxer shorts ; almost discolored to a scanty yellow , and sauntered to their beds , or rather said , their mattresses . Mattresses which could be found on the streets , often riddled with bullets , only a few of them not covered with blood . The blankets they slept under had been a long forgotten gift of a mother they barely could remember , and pillows they had found in one or other second hand store .
They lived in a simple way , that was for sure . So simple , that sometimes you lost your mind . That sometimes you just wanted to give or throw your few possessions away , and just buy new furniture . You can't be miserly when you don't have any more , or at least just enough to get around .
They couldn't disappear underneath their blankets tonight . Sometimes that sleep wouldn't come . The sandman didn't come to sprinkle magic sand into their eyes .
" Fuck , Connor . Thought you were tired ." Murphy glanced to the right , where his brother had laid himself down upon one hard mattress .
Silence . The rustling of the sheets clearly pointed out that he wasn't asleep yet .
" I am . Just can't sleep . "
More rustling , and the clicking of a lighter . Then light , for one second . The burning of a fag that lighted up when his brother hauled his cigarette . He felt something fall upon his legs . Probably the package of fags . He reached for it , opened the package and found a fag and lighter . Skilfully he put his fag between his lips and lit it .
" Is it because of the bar fight ? " , Murphy started . " Don't ye give a damn 'bout that . Everybody is kicked in his balls . Sooner or later . "
A clack pointed out that Connor disagreed . His fag lit up again .
" This shit we're doing here ... Shooting these mob guys , do you still want to continue with that ? "
Murphy nodded , but then it came into mind that Connor couldn't see his gesture in the darkness of the large room .
" We're fighting for a good cause here , Connor . Veritãs , ãequitas .Truth , justice ." , he answered .
Connor crushed the butt of his fag against the jam jar that stood next to his 'bed' and turned his back , and dropped his head tiredly upon his pillow .
3#
The morning came as a sigh , and the light stung undisturbedly into his eyes . Murphy opened his eyes , welcomed the room with one look and then looked to the right of him , where his brother should've been sleeping . That was empty . He again looked around in the room . Nowhere to be seen .
'Not a fucking problem ' , he thought . Maybe he was getting some food , fags or ... booze . He quickly shrugged the thouht of him . No booze , he thought . But it would fit in the picture . Connor , who drank , and started , really drunk ,fights with all kind of guys . Shit , they've been thrown out of bars more times than some transvestite would have sex with a man for no money at all .
" What the fuck , Connor . Am I once waking up later then you , you're the fuck gone ! " ; he mumbled angrily as he tried to enter in his worn-out , torn jeans . Then he pulled his black shirt over his head , and his shoes followed .
He literally ran out of his apartement, after having put on his crucifix and jacket , almost flew off the stairs because the elevator was broken once again and .... found Connor leaning against the wall , smoking a fag .
" Shit , man . Couldn't you have stayed inside ? T'is freezing here ! "
Connor lifted his hand and said shortly : "Il Duce beeped us . He needs our help with a mission . We gotta be there at ten . "
" Well , what the fuck are we waiting for ? "
Yeah , what the fuck are we waiting for ? Connor looked at the traffic passing by , looked at the few 'lost' teenagers not on their way to school , their parents totally unaware .
Poor mom , he thought . You know what were doing now ? Shooting up some mob guys just because the first time was the right one . All of it for the money . Like dad . Jaysus ; they did a lot for dad .
" We're going out for breakfast first ." , Connor stated , better said ordered . " At Joe's . "
" Yeah , and then we might as well fart the fucking mafia to death ! You know you and I can't stand garlic . " , his brother rejected his statement quickly .
"Yeah , because we fart . What different does it makes ? Or if we fart , or burp , or throw up , or fucking shoot them , or shoot them and fart ... Who cares !? They're gonna die in the ten next seconds after we blasted all those bullets in them ."
Connor shrugged his shoulders . " Besides , that's where he told us to wait for him . At Joe's . "
" Daft , you ! " Murphy patted him on the back of his head and then ran , expecting Connor to follow him , when when he looked behind , he saw that Connor was still walking , and not running . Slowing down to a leisurely pace , he walked next to Connor .
" What's up ? "
" Got a hangover . Now shut up . "
With an apologizing guesture , by spreading out his arms wide , Murphy showed his fake regret .
" Alright man . Fucking won't get in your way ." 'May as well buy some aspririn . His head is fucking going to blow up when we shoot . ", he muttered angrily , not yet used to Connor's moody hangovers .
( nog niet af . Ik schrijf alles eerst in het Nederlands Nvdr .)