Ma, I'm Gettin Meself a New Mammy

by Martha Long

  Ma, i'm gettin' meself a new mammy

  Ma, i'm gettin' meself a new mammy

  Martha Long

  Seven Stories Press

  New York

  Copyright © 2008 by Martha Long

  First published in Great Britain in 2008 by Mainstream Publishing Company, Edinburgh

  First Seven Stories Press edition March 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of non-fiction based on the life, experiences and recollections of the author. In some cases, names of people, places, dates, sequences or the detail of events have been changed to protect the privacy of others. The author has stated to the publishers that, except in such respects, not affecting the substantial accuracy of the work, the contents of this book are true

  Seven Stories Press

  140 Watts Street

  New York, NY 10013

  www.sevenstories.com

  College professors and middle and high school teachers may request free examination copies of Seven Stories Press titles. To order, visit www.sevenstories.com/textbook or send a fax on school letterhead to (212) 226-1411.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Long, Martha.

  Ma, I’m gettin meself a new mammy / Martha Long. -- First Seven Stories Press edition.

  pages cm

  Sequel to: Ma, he sold me for a few cigarettes.

  First Published in Great Britain in 2009 by Mainstream Publishing Company, Edinburgh.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 978-1-60980-501-2 (hardback)

  1. Long, Martha--Childhood and youth. 2. Abused children--Ireland--Dublin--Biography. 3.

  Poor children--Ireland--Dublin--Biography. 4. Dublin (Ireland)--Social conditions--20th century.

  5. Catholic schools--Ireland. 6. Dublin (Ireland)--Biography. I. Title.

  DA995.D8L664 2014

  941.8’350823092--dc23

  [B]

  2013025720

  Printed in the USA

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  As always, to my children, Tina, Fabian and MarieClaire.

  Just being your mother has been my greatest achievement.

  All else pales into dust.

  To the memory of the girls who shared the last days of my childhood. Though it was brief, and gave me a glimpse of being a child, even as it vanished, I still treasure it. There is, in a little corner of my heart specially reserved, a place where you sit, and in my mind’s eye you will always be young.

  To Sister Eleanor,

  I salute you for your goodness.

  To Mary Dunne, my friend.

  Thank you, Mary, for your friendship.

  To Gerry (Ger) Keegan and Seamus (Shea) Reid, the last of the great Irish wits. Thanks, fellas, for all the laughs.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Iwas bemused and overwhelmed by the amount of goodness, love and well wishes from readers of my first book. I simply shared my childhood, for those of you who knew what life was like back then, to be poor, or a bastard. So you could give voice like me to your children and say, ‘This was me. I was like that little child.’

  Not many of us learned to read and write. So we could not tell it in our own words on paper. I had taught myself to read and write, and had a natural love of books, so without knowing, the document I wrote intended for my children when I am gone, became, after some time, a realisation that it is the property of the many, many millions of you all spread out across the world who once shared the ‘Little Martha’s’ history. And for those of you who did not know, now you have some insight. So now, my way of saying thank you for all your warm loving wishes is to continue my story.

  A special word of thanks to Bill, my publisher, he is only one of a kind.

  My editor – who had the misfortune of having me thrust on her! – she is a master of her craft.

  Contents

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Part II

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  PART I

  CHAPTER 1

  Isat starin at me hands sittin in me lap, thinkin about nothin. The Maria rocked along the road, movin over the bumps bouncin us against each other, our heads rockin wit it, gently noddin left te right. Then we lifted, goin up inta the air, an me belly jerked an sank goin over a hill. We couldn’t see out, but I felt the distance an was lost inside meself listenin te the hum of the engine.

  We were all very quiet, nobody movin. I listened te someone shudder in a big breath, then hold it an let it out through his nose, an felt him shiftin, rockin himself backwards an forwards then droppin his shoulders an squeezin his hands together, pushin them inta his lap. Me head was lyin in his direction an me eyes half opened, an I knew he was feelin the same as me. More afraid than I ever felt in me life. Them poor young fellas will get it worse than me. Stuck miles away in the arsehole of nowhere an the brothers killin them night an day, cos that’s wha Jackser always said they did te him. An their mammies won’t be able te come down an see them.

  I dropped me shoulders, lettin out me breath, an closed me eyes again, thinkin nothin lasts for ever an this will come te an end, too. I just have te be patient. It can’t be any worse than bein wit tha bandy aul bastard. No! Only bein locked up is the worry.

  The Maria suddenly slowed down then swung inta a bend an kept movin slowly. The detective let out a big sigh an stirred himself, half standin up. I lifted me head, comin te me senses, wonderin wha was goin te happen.

  ‘First drop off, Mick!’ the detective muttered te the policeman, then rubbed his nose an shoved his finger up, twistin it an pulled it out, lookin te see wha he had on his finger. An rolled it up, flingin it at the door. Me stomach was turnin, but now I felt sick watchin him. The Maria stopped an the detective made fer the door, waitin fer it te open.

  ‘OK! First dispatch!’ an aul fella roared happily, swingin the door open an scratchin his arse an hikin up his trousers, then tryin te button the jacket of his policeman’s uniform. It wouldn’t close cos his belly was too fat an the trousers was halfway up his legs.

  ‘Right! That’s you, Long!’ the detective roared te me, jumpin down an snappin his fingers at me. I leapt up wit the fright an jumped down after him without thinkin, landin on the ground next te him an looked back at the others all leanin out te get a look at me, but not movin too much in case the aul fellas roared at them. I looked at the little fella, his legs shakin like mad an rockin himself backwards an forwards tryin te ease his worry, wit his hands jammed between his knees. They all stared at me, wit the fear of God in them, an their eyes gaped outa their skulls, an I could see they were wonderin how I was takin it, an Emmet’s mouth was clamped shut hangin aroun his jaw lookin like he wanted te cry. I looked back at the little fella, an he was keenin in a quiet whisper. Then his head turned, an his eyes locked on me. Fer a split second we stared at each other,
like he wanted me te help him.

  I stared at the red rims aroun his eyes sittin inside his grey little face. He’s only eight! Tha’s wha his granny screamed when she tried te hide him in her shawl, te stop the policemen gettin their hands on him. I suddenly wanted te grab him an say, ‘Run!’ Gettin them all runnin in different directions, an him an me can run like hell an make our escape. I’ll bring him back te his granny, an rush off te catch the ship te England. I could sneak on, takin meself off te London, where I could get lost in the crowd an keep me head down. I wouldn’t be stupid enough te get meself caught this time, because this is different. I know me way there, an nobody would ever find me again. I could eat meself aroun the supermarkets – they have them there, too! Then find somewhere safe te sleep. I could wait until I’m big enough te get meself started an find a job, an nobody would ever be able te touch me again. I’d be me own person. Oh, dear God! If only.

  ‘Get a move on, Long!’

  I came te me senses, lookin up te see the detective takin a big gollop of phlegm an sendin it flyin in the air, te land in the grass over be the black iron fence.

  ‘Come on!’ he roared, throwin his big head at me then aimin it at the convent. ‘Move yourself! We haven’t all day for the love a God!’ Then he spat again. The veins stuck out on his big red neck an his eyes bulged wit annoyance, fixin them on me, cos I was standin still lost inside meself, an waitin fer him te finish wha he was doin. He bounced over te grab me an held on te me tight, wit his hand under me arm as if he could read wha I was thinkin, an headed me over te high steps leadin up te a big green door. Then he let me go an rushed himself up ahead, ringin the doorbell.

  I looked aroun at the size of the place. The convent was huge, an I looked back at the avenue. It was dark wit trees leanin over it, an it went fer miles, an there was a long black iron fence on the other side wit cows an horses munchin on grass, an a donkey. It spotted us an started roarin its head off an came flyin from miles down the end of the field up te see wha’s goin on. I watched him gettin closer, wit his mouth wide open an his lip curlin up under his nose showin his big white teeth lookin like he was laughin. An screamin, ‘He haw, he haw.’ Like his chest was tryin te get breath an he had the whoopin cough, only without the cough. Jaysus! I wish I was him. I’d have nothin te worry me, but munch grass all day long an keep a look out fer someone te come along an maybe give me a pat on the head.

  I looked over at the big statue of the Sacred Heart, wit his arms outstretched, an his heart bleedin in the middle of his chest, implorin everyone te see it was bleedin fer the love of us. Tha statue’s like the one in Hairy’s convent. This place even looks a bit like tha convent. I shivered, listenin te the silence all aroun me. There’s nothin but miles an miles a fields, wit sheep on the other side, very far away inta the distance. Even the donkey was quiet now, he just rambled off back down the fields, gettin fed up waitin fer someone te talk te him.

  The door opened an I whipped me head aroun, lookin up inta the face of a long skinny nun starin from me te the detective.

  ‘Eh, ahem, Mother! This is the child, Martha Long,’ he said, lookin at the front of a bunch of papers he had in his hand, then slowly handin them te the nun. ‘She’s been sent from the Children’s Court, Dublin Castle,’ he said, seein the nun lookin confused.

  ‘Really! Is that right now?’ she said, lookin at him very annoyed, then starin down at me, lookin like she was tryin te make me out.

  ‘Yes. You have all the papers there,’ he said, turnin aroun an pushin me in the door, an tryin te make his escape down the steps.

  ‘One moment, please, Detective . . .’

  ‘Shoe,’ he said, smilin, hopin she’d get a move on an let him get out of here.

  ‘I would like a word with you, please, if I may.’

  I stood just inside the door, wonderin wha’s happenin. He came flyin back up the steps an pushed me further inta the hall.

  ‘Would you please wait inside here,’ she said te me, puttin one long bony finger on me shoulder an steerin me inta a big room, then closin the door behind me.

  I stood next te a big white marble fireplace wit a big black-an-white holy picture of men holdin Jesus lyin dead in their arms an lookin shocked, an some of them were cryin. Then me eyes whipped aroun the room, takin in the long mahogany table lined wit chairs, an a big silver tray wit a silver teapot an other silver things fer milk an sugar sittin in the middle of the table. I looked over at the big windas goin down te the floor, an I could see the cows an the donkey far away in the fields, munchin away te their hearts’ content in peace an quiet. An I felt me heart droppin down inta me belly, an I wanted te cry. It feels like I’m suffocatin, locked up here! Jesus! Jesus! Will I ever be free? Please make the time go fast so tha I can get outa here, an wander where I like, an never be in trouble again, an have no one te bother me. I heard their voices gettin louder, an I moved a little over te the door te hear wha’s goin on.

  ‘No! That is not good enough,’ the nun’s voice said, still in a whisper, but I could hear she was annoyed. I heard him mutterin somethin back, an she said, ‘Well! We shall have to see about that.’ Then the front door opened an slammed shut again. I rushed back te the fireplace.

  ‘So!’ she said, comin in the door an shuttin it behind her. ‘You have been sent to us!’

  I looked up at her, me eyes flippin past her face with the big brown hairy mole, down te the toes of her shoes. Tha’s all ye could see under the long black habit. I lifted me head, landin back on her face again, an we stared at each other. Her big grey goitre eyes glittered back at me through huge milk-bottle eyeglasses, lookin like she wanted te kill me. I stared at them, wonderin why she was annoyed. I’m the one tha should be annoyed! Wha has she got te complain about?

  She lifted her chin, wrigglin her neck tryin te ease the tight linen collar wrapped aroun it, an jerked her head, flickin her veil aroun her shoulder like she thought she had long hair, an stretched herself up, makin herself look even taller, then crossed her arms, hidin them under her cloak, an looked down at me, sayin, ‘We were not asked to take you, you know! Do you know that?’ she barked at me, lookin shocked.

  I still said nothin, tryin te make out wha she was talkin about.

  ‘We do not take your sort here, do you know that? This is not the place for you!’ She stared at me, lookin like she hoped I would come up wit an answer. But I just stared back, not knowin wha she was talkin about. Then she let her breath out through her nose an leaned her head towards me. ‘Do you have your monthlies?’ she suddenly whispered, waitin fer me answer.

  ‘Eh! Wha monthlies is tha, Sister?’

  ‘Your periods!’

  ‘Wha periods would tha be, Sister?’ I felt really stupid, not knowin a word of wha she was talkin about.

  ‘Mother! You call me Reverend Mother,’ she roared in a whisper, gettin very annoyed wit me. ‘I am in charge here. I am Mother Mary Immaculate! Do you understand that?’ She leaned her head down te me, lookin like she was tryin te figure me out. ‘Are you slow?’ she asked me, lookin even more confused.

  I stared back, gettin more confused meself be the minute.

  ‘Really! This is outrageous!’ she said, straightenin herself up again, her head swingin aroun talkin te the walls. ‘Are you retarded?’ she shouted, lookin at me again, gettin all red in her long skinny face.

  I knew wha tha word meant, an I felt meself gettin hot in me belly. The bleedin cheek a her!

  ‘No, Sister, there’s nothin wrong wit me head. I’m not backwards, is tha wha ye mean?’ I asked her, tightenin me mouth an darin her.

  She clamped her lips together an gave her veil another flip wit the back of her hand an said, ‘Mother! Have you forgotten already what I just told you? Really! This is preposterous! I am not accepting this!’ Then she took another big sigh, sayin, ‘I am not sure where to send you. Whether you are menstruating or not, I think perhaps you might be better with the big girls. I won’t put you in with the middle group; you might prove to be a b
ad influence on them. Stay here, I shall be back in a moment,’ an she flew out the door, leavin me thinkin about the word monthlies, an periods, an other big words.

  I wonder wha she’s talkin about? Does she mean the monthly Sacred Heart Messenger? Is she wonderin if I’m holy? I read tha sometimes in the church. People tellin about gettin their special intentions answered when they prayed hard te the Sacred Heart! An others askin ye te pray fer them te get over a sickness, or someone short of money an they are maybe goin te lose their home. Yeah! I like churches. When I’m passin one, an if I have the time, I like te go in an sit down in the peace an quiet, an look aroun at all the statues an candles an talk te God up on the altar in the tabernacle. It always reminds me of when I was little, an it was just me an the ma, an she’d take me in te say a few prayers an light a penny candle if she had the money.

  I stared at the floor, seein the picture of me an the ma together, rememberin the peace, an me mind flew back down all them days. Down, down I toppled, then lit on me ma’s happy laughin face. Me chest started jumpin an me belly wobbled, an I felt me heart break an suddenly a hot gush a tears erupted down me face. Ma! Mammy, where are ye? I want them times te come back; I want ye when you were me old mammy, an it was just you an me, an then Charlie. All we had te worry about was gettin a place te stay an somethin te eat, but I wasn’t afraid then, an ye used te laugh, an talk te me, an take me te the pictures when we got the money. ‘I’m lost, Ma! I don’t feel big any more,’ I whispered, lookin aroun the big strange room, not seein it cos me eyes are all fogged up. I feel like a babby, an I’m lost, cos I’m on me own an I don’t have her an Charlie any more. I felt the tears streamin down me face an I wiped them away wit the back of me hand. I’m not lettin tha nun see me cry. She’s gettin nothin outa me. Anyway, there’s no use in cryin. Them times is gone for ever, an they went a long time ago. Then I started te feel very old. Yeah! I have only meself te look out fer now, an her an tha Jackser fella is gone for ever, too, so tha’s somethin te be grateful for, an I won’t feel the time passin in this place; soon I’ll be sixteen, an I’ll walk out them gates an never look back. I’ll bury everythin an everyone tha ever had anythin te do wit me, an start me own life. Yeah! Tha’s wha I’ll do.