Derry Girls: Impossible to Ignore

Chapter 11: A Free Man in Free Derry

     After 5 long years in prison for domestic terrorism and an accidental murder, Niall Martin Mallon, age 20, was being set free from HM Prison Maghaberry, in accordance with the Good Friday Agreement. It was Saturday, just before noon, when he woke up in his cell for the last time ever. He packed up what few possessions he had and stepped out of his cell for the last time. It was a strange sensation for sure, that small cell had essentially been his home for half a decade. In some ways he would miss it, but he also hoped to God he'd never land himself back there.

He was taken to the section of the facility that held the items on his person when he first arrived there years prior. It only consisted of a grey suit he wore during his trial and a beat up old wallet with £100 in it. Still he figured it was always good to have a suit for whatever occasion. Currently, Niall was dressed in blue jeans, black zip up hoodie, and black boots. That money in the wallet, plus money he earned over the last few years in the prison program came to nearly £500, so it could hold him for a bit if he couldn't get employment immediately (something he didn't have high hopes for).

He was soon greeted by an older man , late 50s to early 60s by eying him, in a brown suit. He was short but bulky, balding but with white hair on the sides, full on bushy white beard, small dark eyes.
"Niall Mallon?" he asked.
"Aye," was all Niall said in reply.
"Name's Fergal Tobin," he introduced himself, his voice probably gruffer than Niall's. "I'm yer parole officer, I am. Ye be from Derry?"
"Aye," Niall answered.
"Not much of a talker, are ye fella?" Fergal chuckled, arching his bushy eyebrow. "Well, we got 90 minute drive to Derry, give er take, so ye best be willin' to say more than a few words. Follow."

Fergal led them to his car, a faded tan station wagon with wood paneling.
"Trow yer shit in the boot and get in the passenger side," Fergal motioned.
Niall did as he was told (something he was very used to at this point), put his things in the boot of the car, then got into the passengers seat.
"We don't go nowhere till ye put on yer seatbelt," said Fergal. Niall so no reason to object. "Ye hungry, boyo?"
"I could eat," Niall replied with a shrug.
"I didn't ask if ye could feckin' eat," chuckled Fergal. "Asked if ye was hungry." Niall just nodded. "Good. Cuz I could eat a feckin' horse right now. There's a diner bout half an hour away that should do."

The drive started off in silence, with the two occasionally side eyeing one another, while Niall took in the scenery from his window.
"So, ye born in Derry?" Fergal asked.
"Born n' raised," Niall answered.
"Got family there?" asked Fergal.
"Aye," answered Niall. "Not sure how interested they are in seein' me though."
"Never visited ye?" asked Fergal.
"Younger sister sent me letters," replied Niall. "Parents haven't spoken to me since... all that shit."
"I see," replied Fergal. "Lots o' fellas in the same boat as ye, so they are. Awful shite this whole feckin' thing was."
"A real motherfucker," said Niall, now thinking of Michelle when he said that.
"That it is," agreed Fergal. "Now then, let's talk about what's gonna happen from here. I managed to set ye up with some work and lodging."
"Ye work fast," Niall replied with surprise. Guess luck was on his side.
"Well, the fella agreein' to it is sympathetic to yer situation," Fergal explained. "Seein' as ye was just a wain at the time ye got caught up in all this shite."
"What's the job?" Niall asked.
"You's know Brooke Park?" asked Fergal.
"Sure, went there all the time as a wain," answered Niall.
"Ye'll be workin' odd jobs there," explained Fergal. "There's lodgin' within walkin' distance. Handy since ye don't have yer own means of transportation. Yer employer is the head groundskeeper by the name of Seamus Walsh. The pay ain't much, but maybe ye can find extra work 'round town."
"I can't exactly afford to be picky," Niall retorted.
"Too true," chuckled Fergal. "Now I gotta ask ye some standard questions. Got any drug habits?"
"Aside from smokin' a joint at 13, never touched anything," answered Niall.
"Definitely a good thing," said Fergal. "Course, every so often you'll be havin' a standard drug test. I'm sure ye understand."
"Aye, makes sense," agreed Niall.
"Drinkin'?" asked Fergal.
"More than yer average Irishman?" Niall quipped which gave them both a chuckle. "Some back in my teens, but not really."
"Cigarettes?" asked Fergal. "Seamus isn't too keen on staff smokin'. Risk of fires and such."
"Puffed a few as a teen," answered Niall. "But... haven't exactly been interested in bein' near smoke and flames after... that." He then casually pointed to his scars.
"Aye, makes sense," replied Fergal. "Read yer case. Nasty shite that was. Guessin' that's why it sounds like yer voice has gravel lodged in yer throat?"
"I'd say it's the main reason," chuckled Niall. "Either that or puberty really decided to go into overdrive.
The two shared a laugh over that.