Here Are the Young Men by Rob Doyle Page B

with me eyes. Well, there is and there isn’t. I mean …’
    He was determined to articulate what was in his head. Otherwise the isolation would suffocate him. He tried again.
    â€˜When ye look at it, are ye not just thinkin it’s beautiful cos ye’ve seen so many pictures of sunsets in magazines and car ads and everywhere, and ye’ve been told that they’re beautiful? Do ye know what I mean? Is it like an automatic thought, like ye look at it and ye think, “Ah, a sunset, it’s beautiful,” but really ye feel nothing? Or even worse, maybe what yer really admirin is yerself, sittin there and bein all cinematic, starrin in something like a film or a novel or whatever. Or like ye’re sayin to yerself, “This is what an experience looks like,” only ye’ve never really had one – just the experience of not experiencin anything at all. Ye know?’
    Julie was shaking her head. Her voice was low, almost hostile. ‘No, Rez. It’s gorgeous.’
    He shook his head. ‘I don’t think ye get what I’m sayin, I –’
    â€˜I do get what yer saying, but I don’t agree. I look at the sunset, and the sea, and I like it. I think it’s gorgeous. It’s very simple, Rez.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ he muttered, more unsure of himself than ever. Maybe it
was
just him, maybe his mind was fucked up. He felt terrible. He couldn’t even enjoy a fucking sunset. Julie made everything so simple. That was why he liked her, he reflected. He drew her in and squeezed his body against hers. The evening was getting chilly. He kissed her cheek and she put an arm around his waist. He could feel her heat coming into him, protection from the chill that drifted in over the Irish Sea, cold and insidious as doubt, as questions.
    He spoke into her ear. ‘Julie, don’t listen to me. I’m just … I just need to get me head clear, that’s all. Don’t mind me.’
    She exhaled in frustration. ‘But Rez, you’re always like this now. What’s wrong with you? You’re not the way ye used to be. You’re like a different person. How come we never laugh when we’re together any more? You always used to make me laugh, but now it’s always this analysing, all this weird stuff. Jesus, Rez, I’m starting to feel lonelier when I’m with you than when I’m on me own. I –’
    â€˜I know, Julie. I said I’ll snap out of it, I’m just –’
    â€˜But when are ye goin to snap out of it, Rez? It’s ever since ye started gettin all those books from yer cousin. I know ye look up to him and ye think he’s cool. And there’s nothin wrong with that, but –’
    â€˜I don’t “look up to him”,’ he said gruffly, pulling away. ‘Jesus. Just cos I like talkin to someone about books and films and stuff, ye have to make me out to be some kind of child. For fuck’s sake, Julie.’
    â€˜But it’s not only that, Rez.’
    He sighed and shook his head. ‘Here we go again.’
    â€˜I know ye hate me sayin it. But I mean it, Rez, ye smoke too much. It’s messin yer head up. Some people can handle it and some people can’t, and you just can’t. It’s makin ye … it’s makin ye into a different person than ye were before. And I don’t like bein with ye as much.’
    â€˜Don’t say that, Julie. I don’t smoke that much. Just a joint or two in the evenin, that’s all. What else am I supposed to do? I just like it. Dope is my thing, it’s not some big deal. It’s just for listenin to music and helpin me think about things.’
    Her voice was low and she looked dead ahead, across the sea. ‘Listen Rez, do whatever ye want. I’m sick of havin the same argument over and over.’
    They fell silent. Most of the daylight had drained away. Rez felt Julie shivering at his side. He leaned into her