Years later I had access to television, I could watch the news on the TV in my cell, and I told you that I saw Patricia one more time, Tommy’s Patricia, I saw her one more time but not in real life and this was when I was watching the news in 1995 and I hear about the murder of a civil rights lawyer name of Patricia Hodges and it meant nothing to me, but with the collusion of the RUC, Loyalist terrorists had placed a bomb under her car, she had been working for Republican prisoners to ensure that their trials were fair and she had turned the key in the ignition of her car and it had set off a bomb that had been hidden in the undercarriage and she had been blown to smithereens in the driveway of her home as her husband and her daughter had waved from the living room window and the news had cut to an interview with her that had been filmed a few month earlier and that’s when I realised it was Tommy’s Patricia, it was Tommy’s Patricia they had killed and that she had found herself a man, a new man, and that she had dedicated herself to the cause and that ultimately she had given her life for it and I realised that Tommy and I, that me and Tommy and Barney and I, would die for something quite different, that really we were on a different side altogether, but that there was something quite beautiful about it all the same, in the disguises we had kept, in the parts that had been given us, there was something that was justified and complete and fulfilled, and I thought about Tommy’s little girl and about Kathy and Davy and I wondered if any of them were still alive and something told me, a voice through the air, that out there, somewhere, there is a little girl that looks just like him, a little girl come back, in his name, in secret, a little girl spinning slowly on an ice rink, in Central Park, her leg raised, her arms stretched out, a little girl that I will never know and that I knew I was capable of not knowing, because I knew that I was capable of not knowing forever, I knew when Miracle Baby visited me that last time that I was up to it, that when the time came my powers would not let me down, and now, as I prepare to be done with this foul language, with these fucking curse words, which is what I have come to call the English language, this lingo that is only good for a joke or for a song, I’m telling you all this, how it all went down, because I never intend to speak it again, because this will be my final telling, because I am to be freed, I am to be freed for good behaviour and according to an agreement, newly made, an agreement bartered, in part, by the dead, I am to be given a new life, gifted with a new identity, and just like the man who saw his own reflection for the first time in the golden waves that flooded his cell, I started when I realised what I had become and what it had all been for. But don’t ask me to talk about it any further. These are my last words. Because now I can tell you, if you haven’t already guessed, what my true superpower was, my own gift from the gods.