Cowboy in the Canal or The Sinking of the Titanic.
CB was my older cousin by 3 years and it often fell to him to schlep me around and take care of me, a task he didn’t relish. CB must have been about ten or eleven at the time and was as tough as nails. He lived in a rougher area than I and had learned to look after himself. I was about seven and a bit wimpy before CB knocked it out of me. His father was tough too and enforced a sometimes harsh discipline.
Near where CB lived was the Dublin Canal, a waterway, where horse-drawn barges conveyed cargo of various kinds to their destination. We loved to play along the banks of the canal and were constantly cautioned of the danger of getting too near the water’s edge and falling in.
One beautiful day in June, CB and I were playing cowboys on the banks of the Canal. My tricycle was the designated horse.
“I saw John Wayne chased by a bunch of baddies trying to kill him at the pictures (as we called the movies) yesterday,” CB said. “He galloped away on his horse and escaped by grabbing the branch of a tree and letting the horse race on with the bad guys following it.” (A frequent scenario in cowboy movies in the old days - when they weren't singing and strumming their guitars).
I was suitably impressed as I was by most of my big cousin's ideas especially when he cursed, because I wasn’t allowed to do that like the tough kids did and lots of CB's friends were tough kids.
“I think I could do that,” CB said after a short period of deliberation. He looked around and I saw that gleam in his eyes that usually meant trouble for someone.
“See that tree over there with the branch sticking out? Well, if you could get up some speed on your trike I'll stand on the back axle and you ride under that tree. I'll grab the branch and let the horse - I mean the bike - gallop on, You can be the horse."
“Why have I always got to be the horse or the Indian or the bad guy?” I complained. “Anyway it’s too near the water, you might fall in.”
“Ah, don’t be such a sissy,” he jeered, “And after we do that I’ll let you be John Wayne and I’ll be the bad guy.”
“Okay, but be careful” said I.
“Pretend someone is chasing me from back there, I’ll yell when you’re to start.”
With that, he mounted his trusty steed – the back axle of my much loved red tricycle, for which he was too big anyway, and after yelling ‘charge’ to me, (I had to pedal mightily to get up to the right speed) galloped away toward the targeted branch.
We did seem to gather great momentum as he approached the tree. I watched as he deftly grasped the protruding branch and swung himself into the foliage of the tree. My admiration quickly turned to horror as I saw the ‘horse’ –my treasured tricycle surge on into the canal. I managed to jump off in time to avoid going in with it!
“My bike, my bike – it’s gone into the canal,” I wailed.
After sharing a moment of horror CB quickly rose to the occasion.
“Ah shut up, I’ll get it out for you,” he said confidently.
The tricycle protruded from the edge of the water and CB advanced to the water’s edge and tried to grab the handlebar.
“Damn,” he said, “I just can’t reach it. Here, give me your hand and I’ll stretch out and be able to grab the handlebar and pull it out of the water.”
“Okay, but be careful, you’re right near the edge.”
I gingerly advanced along the canal bank towards the water until I was close enough to grasp CB’s hand. Using my weight to balance himself he stretched out over the water.
“I almost have it, I just need another inch.”
As he stretched out to grasp the bike, I felt the grip of our hands starting to slip. He leaned away a little more and our grip continued to slip.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh,”yelled CB as he slid down the muddy bank into the water.
I started crying and ran the half block to CB’s house.
“Help, help, CB fell into the canal and is drowning and my bike is in the canal.”
His father assumed a terrifying demeanor, “I warned him a hundred times to stay away from the canal. This is not the first time he’s fallen into that bloody canal.”
With that he raced up to the canal with me in hot pursuit. We arrived in time to see a muddy sodden monster that had just emerged from the canal that on closer inspection turned out to be CB. My uncle got my precious bike out of the river and I think that CB got some harsh justice as well as a bath!
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