Ma, It's a Cold Aul Night an I'm Lookin for a Bed

by Martha Long

  Right, so! Just get through tonight. Then in the morning I can have a wash somewhere. I might just take meself down to the Gresham Hotel and wash in the toilets. Grand! Then go somewhere and have a lovely hot breakfast! Yeah, I’ll go up to Woolworths. That’s a great idea! Then I can look for a job. I’ll get the newspaper.

  But if all else fails, where will I sleep tomorrow night? I’ll go down to the buildings. I could always ask someone down there to put me up for a few nights. Couldn’t I do that? No, I tried that years ago when me and the ma took off, leaving Jackser to mind himself, and we went to England. No, the poor people down there barely have enough room to swing a cat, never mind take in two more bodies!

  So what then? A church! I can hide in the confessional box until they lock up the church. I wonder if that’s a good idea, hiding in a church for the night? The statues would be all staring down at me in the pitch black! I wonder if they leave the lights on? I could light the candles. Yeah, but then I would have to pay for them. It would be robbing God, if I didn’t pay up. So, as I’m not spending the last of me money on candles, where will I go? Jaysus! I’ll work that one out when I get a bit of heat into me and a bit of hot grub. Right, that’s settled.

  I pulled the packet of cigarettes out of me pocket and lit one up. ‘Excuse me!’ I looked up, jumping with the fright at the voice coming out of nowhere. ‘Have yeh gor a light, love?’ I looked up into the face of a woman wearing a short mini-frock, with black knee boots and a white fun-fur jacket. Her dyed-black hair was standing three feet up in the air, it got so much back-combing.

  Jaysus! You frightened the life outa me,’ I said, laughing. Handing her me cigarette to take a light because I wanted to spare the rest of me matches.

  ‘Wha are yeh doin here, sittin in the freezin cold?’ she said, leaning back her head and dragging the smoke all the way deep down inta her lungs. Then she sucked air up through her nose and looked at me. Waiting for me answer.

  ‘I have nowhere to go,’ I said, knowing I could trust her.

  Aren’t you like meself? A Dubliner?’ she said, letting the last word rise inta the air.

  ‘Yeah, but I still have nowhere to go.’

  ‘Jaysus! That’s terrible. On a night like tonight of all nights. They say it’s goin teh snow.’

  ‘Is it?’ I asked her, seeing her slapping her arms to get a bit of heat, thinking snow would make things even worse. Now I would have to worry about leaving me footprints in the snow when I might have to run for me life, trying to escape some aul fella chasing me down the road. I could very easily be tracked to me hiding place. I was trying to picture that, with me nerves really beginning to get the better of me again.

  ‘Gawd! Do you know, I have been chased down that bleedin road by aul fellas in cars trying to pick me up!’ I said, looking at her, shocked.

  ‘Yeah, they see you as fresh! The fuckers are not coming around me at all tonight,’ she said, looking very sour and whipping her head up and down the road. I stared at her. It was just dawning on me now. Oh, Mammy! Your woman must be on the game! Now look what I’m after getting meself inta. Here I am, drawing even more attention to meself when they come looking for her! There are bound to be lines and lines of cars, all stopping to pick the pair of us up!

  Mammy! Jaysus! God! Help! Oh, fuck! I felt me heart lepping in me chest with the sudden fright. I could feel the legs going from under me. Right, that’s it. I’m off. Jaysus! Just let me outa here!

  ‘Listen, goodbye now. I have to run. I just thought of something,’ I said, feeling me heart flying as I whipped up me suitcase and took off, taking the steps two at a time.

  ‘Here, wait!’ she said, waving at me. I looked back and waved, smiling back at her. ‘Go up to the bus station. You can kip down on the buses,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yeah! Thanks very much. That’s a great idea,’ I said. Feeling delighted at the thought of getting in somewhere safe and warm. Then I felt bad at the idea of making her think I thought she was dirt. That’s not what worried me at all. I felt sorry for her. God help her. ‘Listen,’ I said, stopping to shout back at her, wanting her to know I thought she was very good. ‘Thanks very much, missus. I’m very grateful to you.’

  ‘No worry! You mind yerself now. An don’t stop teh talk teh any a them fellas in the cars,’ she shouted, giving me a warning, waving her finger at me.

  ‘Yeah, I knew that full already. Yeah, thanks very much again,’ I shouted, flying for all I was worth back up the road and heading for the bus depot.

  I dragged me feet along the ground with the heavy suitcase pulling the arm outa me. That hill looks like it’s going to kill me. I dropped me head and pushed me legs, one foot in front of the other, and stopped on the bridge. I collapsed me arms, letting them fall with the exhaustion, leaning on the railings resting meself. Then stood, looking down into the canal. I stared at the brown, muddy-looking water, surrounded by all the old red-brick warehouses looking into it. I wonder what it would be like if I was to stand up here on the top and just let meself drop down? I could feel me head going under the water and not being able to get me breath. It would be suffocating for a few minutes. I wonder how long it takes before you die? I hate water! I’m afraid of me life of it, because I can’t swim.

  Me head turned slowly around, landing on the big old building of the glass-bottle factory. I wonder how many people have come and gone through that factory. It’s been there for hundreds of years. At least one hundred anyway. Them people who first worked there long, long ago, they’re all now well dead and gone. I suppose they had their worries, too. I bet if they were given the chance to come back, they would probably take it. Even with all the fear and worry. All these old buildings were here long before I was born. Imagine life was going on before I got here! But these have seen their last days. Everything around here is lying idle, all run down. Just like meself.

  Snowflakes started to fall, landing on me eyelashes. Jaysus! I hate this snow. It’s nothing like you see in the fancy photographs of long ago. With people wrapped up in scarves and hats and long coats with warm boots. All laughing and throwing snowballs at each other. This turns to slush, then freezes hard on the ground, until you have to take it easy walking or you slip on your back and break your bleedin neck.

  It started to get heavier. I looked up at the sky turning all shades of blue, grey, and now black. All before me eyes as I watched it. Heavy white snowflakes was suffocating the air, making its way to land softly on the ground, covering it like a white sheet. There’s nothing to be seen but white. The air and ground is covered in it, including meself. Jaysus! I look like a moving snowman. And I’m covered in it.

  I looked down at meself, seeing it sit on me shoulders and coat and brown bokety shoes. Me hair hung around me like a white stringy hat. Ah, what next? I’m plastered in white snow. Now I’m going to get me coat and shoes wet again. Fuck!

  I walked on, making me way down the hill, heading for the bus depot. I hope nobody’s hanging around tonight. I want to get straight into a bus and try to get a bit of sleep. This snow is going to stick even heavier tonight. Maybe they won’t be moving the buses tomorrow. That means I won’t get run out by the cleaners when they start coming in the early hours of the morning to clean the buses.

  God, where are you? Please help me to find a way to get back on me feet before it’s too late. I’m worried because the heart is going outa me. It feels like I’m going to be stuck walking the streets for ever. I’m not looking like meself. I know I’m looking worn out from the hunger, because I can’t buy much to eat and I hardly have any money left. Then, on top of that, I’m not getting much sleep and the terrible cold is killing me.

  This is me second week now, walking the streets searching for work. You know yourself I’ve been looking very hard. Walking the feet offa meself, tramping the length and breadth of everywhere, but it’s all for nothing. I even banged on the doors of the bed and breakfasts, asking them will they give me food and a bed in exchange for me work. That didn’t
bloody do any good! They took one look at the desperation on me face, seeing how rough I looked from all that sleeping out. Well, that was enough for them. They had all the information they needed to decide something must be wrong with me and slammed the door shut straight inta me face. One aul one stared at me for a few minutes. I held me breath, hoping I was getting somewhere. I gaped as she stared, letting her think about it. I could see her head flying with the thinking, the eyes hopping and blinking like mad, working on the lovely idea of getting me free. All for a bit of grub and a bed that wouldn’t a been used anyway.

  ‘No!’ she finally said, with her eyes closing down, pulling herself back from the door, getting ready to bang it. ‘No, you wouldn’t do me. I won’t bother. Goodbye now!’

  I stood, not believing me ears. No? Not even for nothing? I went straight inta shock. The heart left me and sank right down inta me belly. Then I shouted. ‘No, wait, missus! Why not? I’m a hard worker!’ I ended up shouting at the door, as it slammed with a bang in me face. I stood staring at it for a few seconds while the information got through to me brain. Then I banged on the door again. ‘I’m not ready to give in,’ I muttered, straightening meself up, getting ready to talk her into it.

  ‘What do yeh want? I told you already I have no need of your sort!’

  ‘What sort is that, missus?’ I asked, with me voice squeaking at the insult she just gave me. The bleeding cheek a her, I thought, forgetting now I had been readying meself to try and talk her inta changing her mind. Instead, the rage and fear working itself up through me was making me lose the run of meself. Then I felt meself dropping, with the air going outa me. I could feel me heart sinking with the disappointment and fear of getting nothing. I just wanted to know where I was going wrong.

  ‘What’s wrong with me, missus? I’m nearly offering me work free! Missus, can’t you just tell me why?’ I asked her quietly, looking up at her.

  ‘It’s . . . you’re too young!’ she burst out, trying to work out why she didn’t want to take me. ‘Young ones are more trouble then they’re worth! I’m sorry,’ she snapped, ‘but me mind is made up! Now, I’m busy. I’ve wasted enough time.’ Then she was gone, slamming the door shut for the second time.

  ‘Aul fucker!’ I shouted at the door, nearly crying at the rage starting to fly around me chest. Then she opened the door again, and me heart leapt with the hope.

  ‘Now,’ she roared, ‘you just went and proved me right! Foul language and plenty of cheek, that’s all your sort has to offer. Now, get away from me door or I’ll call the police.’

  ‘Fucking aul hag! Stick yer poxy aul flea-ridden bed and breakfast up yer fat arse!’ I screamed, letting fly at the door. She didn’t come out again so I couldn’t really tell her what I thought about her. I looked around me with the rage, wanting to do something – make a holy show of her.

  ‘What’s wrong with the place?’

  I looked up inta the face of a red-necked culchie appearing outa nowhere. He stopped next to me, and stood looking down at me from about six feet up inta the air. He looks like a long string of misery, I thought sourly, staring up and down the length of him, with the bony face and the dirty brown-pink nylon shirt that was too big for his red skinny neck. The red clashed with the pink. ‘Did ya just get hefted outa the place?’ he said, swinging his brown suitcase at the door then looking down at me with such a look on his face that told me everything I was going to tell him would be taken as gospel. In other words, a right gobshite.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ I gasped. ‘Whatever you do, don’t go in there. That aul one has a houseful of cats. She insists yeh let them sleep in the bed wit yeh! They run riot. Then, first thing in the morning, they even get to your plate of rashers before you do! That’s why we were having a shouting match. She threw me out after I complained about it. Not to mention the damp cold bed I had to sleep in last night,’ I huffed. Snorting out me disgust.

  ‘Shockin!’ he breathed, with the eyes hangin out of his head, listening to me every word.

  ‘Oh, yeah!’ I carried on, encouraged by his two ears wigging, taking in everything I was telling him. ‘And another thing! She charges seventeen shillings and sixpence!’

  ‘What? Not at all! Sure I’m just after turning down nine and six back up yonder!’ he gasped, waving his suitcase back up the road.

  ‘There yeh go!’ I shouted, waving me hands at him. ‘She’s a daylight robber!’ I roared, wagging me finger at the door.

  ‘Tis true for yeh! The Dublin people would rob yeh blind, if yeh didn’t hang onta deh shirt tails hangin outa yeh. Deh brother warned me right enough dis would happen. “Mick,” he said, “cow tail it outa dat city as fast as yeh can. Mind out for dem city young ones. Dey’ll rob the shirt offa yer back.”’

  I hope he’s not including me. Maybe I can get him to buy me a nice hot meal, if I play me cards right. I shook me head, agreeing. With him shaking the side of his head like mad, not able to take in all the daylight robbery that was going on. Then sniffing air up through his nostrils like he was getting a bad smell. ‘Be Gawd! He was right, sure enough there,’ he said, thinking his brother very smart altogether, getting lost with a far-away look in his eye of sheer admiration for the brother. ‘On the other hand,’ he muttered, staring at me with the eyes hanging outa the back of his head, getting outa breath from all the bad news, ‘I’m told this one was good an aisey on the money,’ he said, looking confused, with a different thought entering his head.

  Then he whipped out a dirty piece of paper and squinted at it. I had a look with him. It was written in pencil and I couldn’t make out the writing. ‘I writ all this back home. It’s a list of the clean an chaipe places dat are handy in Dublin,’ he said, looking down at me as the two of us gaped at the bit of paper.

  ‘Well, whoever it was that told you about this place was leading yeh astray. I’m telling you, you go in that door at yer peril! For sure, once that aul one gets her hands on your pockets yer done for! She will even charge yeh half a crown for the hot water. So you may as well forget about having your shave in the morning,’ I said, looking disgusted, craning me head up to look at him. ‘That aul one will lighten your pockets. Make no mistake about that,’ I said, shaking me head, feeling very satisfied I had done a good hatchet job on yer woman.

  ‘Oh, right so! I’ll give dat a miss,’ he said, picking up his suitcase, making to move off. ‘Well, it’s plenty more I have teh look at. I only want somewhere teh kip down for the one night and the bit of grub in the morning. Anything will do me,’ he said, nodding his head and setting his sights further down the road. ‘I suppose I’m looking teh make a bargain. I want teh pay as little as passable,’ he said, dropping his long skinny red neck inside his overcoat. He took off, letting his arse stick out, heading himself off down the road. I stared after him, thinking it’s not worth me while trying to butter him up to buy me something to eat. I’d love a plate of fish and chips but that fella is so mean he probably thinks he owes himself money, judging by that hungry look on his culchie mug.

  Jaysus! If only I could land a job. But I’m too desperate-looking. It’s putting them off. They think I must be on the run from something or someone. Right, I better get a move on and start trying to find somewhere to get in out of the cold for the night.

  Yeah, that was today, God. Now look at the state of me! I’m up the creek without a paddle! Will you please let me luck change? I need something to turn up for me soon. I have no one I can turn to. Do you know that? Is this your idea of a joke? In a way, I’m blaming you! Yeah, if I hadn’t gone down to the church to light a penny candle and have a little word with you, I wouldn’t a lost me money!

  You know I only have the one shilling and thruppence left to keep me going. What will I do then? I’m not going back to robbing. I’m definitely not even thinking about that terrible idea. I can’t ask Sister Eleanor for help. She would only run me out the door. I’m left the convent now and that’s that! I can hear her saying, nearly crying with the torment she thinks I’m
putting her through.

  I even thought about going back to the ma. Just for a little while. That mad idea only lasted me a few seconds. I would sooner start robbing for meself then for them. So, as there doesn’t seem to be much left open to me, what am I going to do? Please tell me, God! Don’t let me down now, in me hour of need. I can even get meself picked up by the police. Yes, God! I’m getting very annoyed about this whole thing. You started it in the first place.

  I could really begin to feel meself getting worked up, now that I knew who to blame. They could say I’m a vagrant because I’m beginning to look a bit in threadbare order. God, you know that could happen. They could easily get me bunged into a home, locked away, for being on the streets! They would say it’s for me own protection because I’m too young, yeah.

  I was thinking about meself being called a vagrant. No, I’m not going to let that happen. I would really have to be one complete gobshite. I’m just really, really tired, that’s all. Me nerves are just running away with me. I’m only letting me mind wander, thinking of the worst things that can happen.

  Then I had a thought. I have gone through much, much worse then this in me days on this earth. I’m still here now. Nothing that ever really frightened the life outa me or all the worry I had or all the terrible beatings I got, none of it killed me! No, I’m still here and it will get better. Just like before! I had happy times and hard times. That’s just the way life is. So I have happy times to look forward to. It always gets worse before it gets better, Martha. Doesn’t it, God?