Brilliant by Roddy Doyle Page A

Black Dog started visiting his house.
    He’d forgotten that, like he’d forgotten how to sing.
    He remembered something else now, something that cheeky kid with the black cape had said to him. He could still see the kids, the last of them, running out of the Park. He put his hands to his mouth, made a trumpet, and shouted.
    â€œI did wash my neck!”

CHAPTER 10

    I t was very early morning in the city of Dublin, and people lying awake in bed could hear a sound that every Dubliner likes, a ship’s foghorn out on Dublin Bay. But there was something else they could hear too. The birds. The city’s birds were often noisy, but this was different. It was like the War of the Birds out there, with all the cawing and squawking, and the seagulls seemed to be on the side that was winning.
    But most people were still asleep. It was Saint Patrick’s Day, Ireland’s big holiday, so there was no school and nearly every adult who had a job didn’t have to go to work. Alarm clocks and phone alarms were turned off, and even the babies seemed to know that they didn’t have to start crying and complaining until later than usual.
    But the kids were wide awake. They were out of Phoenix Park by now, and they were running toward the center of town,along the quays, beside the River Liffey. There were hardly any cars or trucks, and the few adults they saw walking looked tired and cold, as if they’d been walking all night.
    They were still chasing the Black Dog. But—
    â€œWhere is he?” asked Precious.
    He’d had been in front of them, a few corners ahead. But then he was gone. Again.
    He seemed to be playing a game with them, leading them on, teasing them.
    They all slowed down, unsure, disappointed, relieved—worried. Was this another of the Black Dog’s tricks?
    â€œIs he hiding?”
    â€œWhere’s he gone?”
    â€œKeep going!” Damien shouted.
    â€œYeah!” Raymond agreed.
    If they stopped now, they probably wouldn’t be able start again. Their legs would feel stiff and their feet would be sore. They had to keep running.
    They heard a voice.
    â€œHe’s down there, so he is!”
    It seemed to have come from way above them. Gloria looked up as she ran, but all she could see was a gang of seagulls. Then they heard the voice again.
    â€œThere!”
    It was lower this time, to her right. She looked, and saw a seagull flying beside them, over the river.
    â€œJust follow my beak!”
    â€œOh my God!” said Alice. “The seagull’s talking.”
    â€œWell, thepink birds in the zoo were talking as well,” said Paddy. “So, it’s no big deal, like.”
    The seagull had gone ahead, flying faster than they’d ever seen a seagull fly before. No floating or gliding, his wings were going mad, like a colossal wasp’s.
    â€œI thought seagulls would be too stupid to talk,” said Alice.
    There was a sudden squawk, right in her ear. It was another seagull, flying beside Alice’s shoulder.
    â€œYou got that one wrong, love!” the seagull roared at Alice. “See him—see him, do yeh?!”
    The second seagull’s beak was pointing at the first seagull, flying ahead of them.
    â€œYeah,” said Alice.
    It was the first time she’d ever spoken to a seagull.
    â€œWell, he’s my fella!”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œHe’s me life partner!”
    â€œOh,” said Alice. “So you’re a girl, then?”
    The seagull stared at Alice. She was brilliant at it, considering she was flying straight into the wind.
    â€œIs it not obvious?!” she eventually squawked, after six very long seconds.
    â€œEh . . .”
    â€œAnd you think
we’re
stupid?!” she squawked. “My God!”
    And she flew after her boyfriend. “Pete!” she cawed. “Wait up!”
    (Try cawing “Pete.” It isn’t easy.)
    They saw it now—they understood. All the