“You see, a man could find himself in a lot of trouble.” He was the typical sort. I’d seen them before: tall, no longer young, and dressed entirely in black. Sober and malign, but impressed with his own authority. He was leaning very close; I could smell his stale breath.
“A man could end up in a lot of hot water, in the end. Most people, well, they know the game and they play by the rules. No problem. But others refuse, they think they know better … they decline. Something as simple and straightforward as this, and they refuse. Can you believe it? You can be sure they’re not so happy now. Do you see?”
I could see, and I nodded quickly. This man had a mission, and I wasn’t about to divert him. I didn’t try to back out.
What a racket. Protection. They come to an honest man like me – a businessman, husband and father – and they want to sell me a solution to a problem they created in the first place. Ah, but once their gaze settles on you, once you’re marked, there’s nothing you can do. You either play their game or you’re damned.
“So, you will contribute?” He was still leaning close and breathing on me.
“Oh yes,” I said. “No worries there.” I spoke calmly, but I was boiling with fury. The push, the threat, the sheer bloody front of these people. They just walk in and deal out misery if I don’t play their game. Then they shake me down.
But what can I do? “Alright,” I said.
He straightened his back and smiled, a little too oily for my liking. But when was any of this ever to my liking? I reached for my wallet.
“I only have a tenner today, Father,” I said. “Will that do until Sunday?”
“You are a good man, Seamus,” he said, putting on his black hat and snapping up the cash. “The missionary priests will be very grateful. Bless you, and give my love to your delightful wife and daughter.”