by Martha Long
She took in a deep breath. I watched her bony little chest heave, then she whispered, shaking her head, ‘Because ye don’t want me, Martha. I’m all on me own, just waitin. Waitin for you te want me,’ she said, watching me, hoping I might have the answer.
I said nothing. Just sat feeling empty. ‘Nothing really matters to me any more. I gave up hoping one day he and I might . . . That’s over. Well over! Sarah doesn’t need me any more. Sure, what’s left to bother about?’ I muttered, staring beyond her into the darkness, then letting my eyes rest on her, feeling myself sink even lower.
She stared at me, listening very intently. I could see the loss and pain in her bright, intelligent eyes. The light was going out of them, dulled by the loss of hope.
I sighed, feeling her pain and loss. Just as she felt mine. ‘Little one!’ I reached into her, staring into her thin, bony little face, streaked with the dirt. And the hollow cheeks, caused by lack of nourishment – that’s malnutrition. Her poor face was drawn and pinched, showing the marks of too much pain and suffering. ‘I want to say this to you, my little Martha. If I get through this – and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to pick myself up and dust meself down again. This time it’s a heavy fall. But! I make you this promise – one day I will come back for you. I will claim you, make you my own. I don’t know when, but some day. When I get the strength and the will. Because I know now you will haunt me to my grave if I don’t. We both need to find peace, little one,’ I sighed, feeling very weary.
I switched on the engine and took off. I continued following the road, keeping the hospital on my right, up Parnell Square, with the old Georgian houses on my left. The odd house here and there still had lights on. Most of them are now used as offices. Especially by the culchies, the Teachers’ Union. Shower of moaners. They spend their time sitting around discussing how hard they have to work. ‘It’s not on, lads! We have to work from nine o’clock in the morning until three o’clock in the day. With only the three months’ holiday the country does begrudge us!
‘Sure we don’t get paid half enough! Think of all the work we’re supposed te do. All that preparation! Having to mark papers in our own free time after school! Sure, we get no rest at all!’
‘Hear! Hear! Let’s go on strike!’
Yeah! The cute culchies own Dublin now. All the city people got themselves pushed out to the middle of nowhere. They walk miles to the shops and wait hours for a bus. There’s not enough Dubliners left to argue. They spilled out in droves across the water to the four corners of England. They’re settled down now, with grown-up families, living out dreams of returning to the ‘Aul Sod’ one day. Sadly, not for all. Some of them are tragically, even after forty years, ‘still waitin on a start’. They are keeping out the cold, sleeping in doorways on the streets of London with a drop of ‘Red Biddy’ methylated spirits for company. Trying to ward off the pain of failure.
I drove up the hill, taking it easy, and stopped for the red light. I glanced across the road, letting my eyes settle on the waste ground. There’s nothing left there now but decay and death. Lovely old houses used to stand there, built by the British. Then, when the old tenements started leaning dangerously close to the passers-by, in rolled the corporation with their wrecking ball. They demolished the lot and rolled off satisfied with themselves. They left a bombsite for everyone to step around and shout to each other. ‘Mind yerself there, Missus! Don’t fall over dem aul bricks or ye’ll kill yerself!’
Dublin is ravaged by the dereliction. Now it’s crumbling around our ears. Let go, by the lack of interest from the city fathers.
I turned right, heading down to Dorset Street, seeing it showing nothing but boarded-up shops. Some are even bricked up. I sighed: more decay and neglect. It would put years on ye! I drove up Drumcondra, taking in the lovely red-brick houses built by Irish craftsmen. Not one real Dubliner lives here. They’re occupied by the crafty culchies who let out rooms. That money paid for their sons to become doctors, lawyers, ‘An I’ve one a priest! and dhe other one, dhe daughter, she is a nun in South Africa. Yeah! Yu’re right dhere, Mammy! We did do well for ourselves up here! How are dhe hens layin? Send us up a few auld eggs!’
I drove on, meeting very little traffic, seeing the streets are almost deserted. Then I spotted the policeman scratching his arse. He lowered his back, bending in close to a window, letting his arse stick out. I slowed down to twenty-five miles an hour. I don’t want him stopping me, then whipping out his little notebook, getting all excited about me not having a bulb in me little sidelight.
I crept past him, looking very intent on my driving, A model citizen. But he was giving all his attention with his nose pressed to the window of a jewellery shop.
It’s a cold and damp aul night for them to be on the prowl. They’re usually inside the station roasting their arse against the heaters and supping cups of tea. You could be mugged, robbed and raped for the want of one of them!
I’m up now onto the road heading for the ma. I must be nearly there. Jesus! I didn’t really know where I was heading tonight. I only know now, it seems, in the ma’s direction.
My heart started fluttering in my chest as I got closer to the ma’s. I could feel the lid threatening to blow off my tightly controlled nerves. The stillness in me is starting to slip away. I could feel myself now beginning to harden. I’m getting gripped by a cold anger. I know what it is. It’s the thought at having to face back into Jackser and the ma’s life. It’s bringing closer the realisation I’ll never see Harry again. Jesus! It’s really beginning to hit me. That Harry! Poor Harry! He really is gone! How can that be? Yeah, but I saw him with me own eyes!
It’s that thundering little snot rag’s fault. That fucking Jackser! Ohh, the scumbag! He has a lot to answer for. Now, he still lives and my little brother is dead. Yeah, we can leave it all down to you, fucking bandy bastard Jackser! If I had me way, I would fuck him under the wheels of this car! But that would be too easy for him.
Right, Martha. But there’s no need for any trouble. So keep your thoughts to yourself. You have to think about Harry. Anyway, everyone is going to have their own troubles now. Especially the poor ma.
9
* * *
Right! Here we are. That didn’t take long. I slowed down, searching along the balconies of the flats. Which one is the ma’s? They all look the same to me.
I continued driving down to the end of the flats, then I looked up, seeing the ma leaning over the balcony. There she is! All my anger suddenly melted away at the sight of the lonely little figure just standing there all alone. She was huddled inside an old grey overcoat, staring into the freezing-cold, pitch-black night. Ah! God love her! She must have been out there all this time, for hours on end probably, maybe even waiting for me. ‘God! Ma, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight,’ I muttered to myself.
I pulled over and parked quickly, jumping out of the car.
‘Did ye see him! Did ye go te the hospidal, Martha?’ she shouted down.
I stopped and looked up at her, nodding my head slowly, and said, ‘Yeah, Ma. I went to the hospital.’
I stopped to pull out my packet of tobacco and rolled a cigarette, heading up to the ma. But then she appeared in front of me and stopped. Her head dropped, and her eyes stared at the ground, seeing nothing. Then suddenly her head swung on her shoulders, with her eyes searching up and down the road. I watched her. She thinks if she looks hard enough Harry will suddenly arrive.
‘Ma! Come here to me,’ I said, walking over to her and taking her in my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder, saying nothing.
I held her, stroking her head, and she stayed passive, letting us have that bit of comfort. For the few seconds, time stood still. We blocked out the world. Then she stirred.
‘I didn’t know!’ she said, staring at me, her face twisted in pain and confusion. ‘They didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t they tell me anythin, Martha?’
‘Who, Ma?’
‘The police! The hospid
al! They put me an Gerry in the back a the police car, but they wouldn’t say wha happened! I sat in tha hospital not knowin wha was happenin. Nobody would tell me anythin!’ she sobbed, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jumper as she pulled it out of the arm of her coat.
I listened, staring into her face. She’s in terrible shock. ‘Come on, Ma. Let’s go up.’ I put my arm around her, guiding her up the stairs.
Jackser appeared out as we arrived on the balcony. ‘Ye’re here! Yer poor mammy has been waitin on ye! Haven’t ye, Sally?’ he said, waving his arm towards me ma. ‘Come on! Come in. Youse will catch yer death a cold, standin out here.’
I pushed past him standing in the hall. ‘Come on, Ma! Let’s get you a hot cup of tea. Where’s Dinah? Is she here?’
‘She’s in the sittin room,’ Jackser said, slamming the front door shut.
Dinah was slumped on the couch, staring at the wall, seeing nothing. ‘Dinah,’ I whispered, sitting down beside her and putting my hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you all right? How did you get home?’ I asked, looking at her swollen eyes and red puffy face.
‘Wha? Oh, it’s you, Martha. I didn’t hear ye come in. Did ye just come from the hospital?’ Her eyes lit up, looking hopeful.
‘Yeah,’ I said, lowering my head, seeing the hope vanish as quickly as it came. We sat quietly, me examining my hands folded in my lap, her staring around the room with her mouth half open, looking very confused. She was trying to make sense of what happened.
‘Martha!’ I looked up to see Gerry rushing in from the kitchen. ‘He’s dead, Martha! Harry is dead!’
‘I know, Gerry love,’ I said, reaching out to bring him down beside me.
‘He threw himself offa the balcony!’ he roared, getting very agitated and swinging his arms through the air to show me what happened. ‘I tried te wake him up! But he wouldn’t wake up fer me! I kept shakin him!’ and he waved his fists furiously in the air, needing to show me the effort he made. ‘But it was no good. Me ma says he’s dead!’ Then he rushed around the room, pressing his hands over his ears.
‘I can hear him, Martha! He’s callin me!’
‘Yeah! Can ye hear him, Martha?’ Dinah suddenly said, leaning towards me. ‘I can hear him too! Listen!’
‘It’s like he’s whispering te me, Dinah!’ Gerry said, looking over at the window.
I stopped for a minute, hearing nothing of course. ‘No! He’s not calling you. Don’t be upsetting yourself. You’re all in shock.’ I looked over at me ma, staring out the window. ‘Ma, do you want a cup of tea?’ I asked, getting up and going over to put my arms around her.
‘No! I don’t want anythin,’ she muttered, shaking her head and turning away from me.
‘Me ma doesn’t like seeing anyone dead,’ Dinah whispered to me, nodding her head towards me ma.
‘No!’ me ma muttered, shaking her head and closing her eyes, trying to block out the thought. ‘I saw enough of it when me own poor mother died. I was only young, an we were all fast asleep in bed when all of a sudden we heard a bang on the winda. Me big sister jumped outa the bed an looked out. It was our aunt. She threw a stone up at the winda, then she shouted up, “She’s gone! Yer poor mammy is dead! I’ve just come back from the hospidal. Yeah! They sent for me. So youse all better get te bed, an I’ll be up te see ye’s in the mornin.” Then she was gone!’ me ma said, looking like she was back in that time, in that place.
Her head was hanging down to the floor with her body suspended, like she was frozen in time. Then she lifted her head and said, with her eyes staring into the distance, ‘We all stood there, lookin at each other, an lookin at the winda, shiverin wit the fright, watchin me aunt hurryin back home. It was dark out, an we didn’t know wha te think or wha te do. Then suddenly, without any warnin, the aul Victorian glass globe – it covered over the statue underneath, me mother always kept tha sittin in the middle of the table – it exploded wit an unmerciful bang, right on the table,’ me ma said, lifting her arms, then throwing them away from her. ‘We all started screamin. Jesus! I will never forget tha night as long as I live! I kept havin terrible nightmares. I was haunted be them fer years,’ she said, staring at the floor, with her face creased in agony.
‘The first night after we buried her, I woke up in the middle of the night an me mother was sittin on the chair beside the bed. The one she used te keep her clothes on when she went te bed. I could see her long hair, Martha!’ me ma said, lifting her face to look at me.
I stared at me ma’s face. She’s white as a sheet, and her eyes are bulging out of her head. She’s looking like she has the fear of God in them.
‘She kept tellin me te pray for her, Martha! “Pray for me,” she was whisperin.’
I watched me ma repeat the words over and over again as her lowered head stared at the floor, not seeing it. She was back in that time long ago, seeing her long dead mother imploring her to pray. My ma, her little Sally. All them long years ago, I thought.
Then me ma slowly lifted her head, gently shaking it from side to side, saying, ‘Everyone in the family had kept dyin. One by one they went. Even me father, then we lost our mammy. All a them gone! All in a few months. Until in the end . . .’ Then me ma’s voice trailed off, holding her hands in the air, then she slumped against the window. ‘I never got over it,’ she whispered.
I lifted her into my arms and held her, stroking her hair. ‘You’re OK, Ma. I’m here. I’ll look after you. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of everything. I know life has been terrible for you, but you’re not on your own. You know I have always looked after you,’ I murmured into her ear. ‘Hush, Ma. Take it easy. Do you want me to put you to bed?’ I asked, lifting her face to look at me.
She stared at me, looking very lost, saying nothing. ‘Come on, Ma. Let’s get you to bed,’ I said, leading her out of the room.
I took off her coat and shoes, then slipped her skirt off and put her under the blankets. Then I sat down beside her on the bed. She lay on her side, staring at nothing, gripping the blankets with her two hands.
‘Close your eyes, Ma,’ I whispered, putting my hands on her face and closing her eyelids. ‘Shush, get a little sleep.’ I stroked her head. It felt so small, and her hair was thin, and her skin was grey and beginning to wrinkle. She’s old before her time. Barely in her fifties, but she could be seventy. Poor ma. She’s like a helpless child. It’s no wonder! It looks like now she never got over the shock of losing her mother and half of her family when she was still only a child.
I sat on, stroking her, until she finally dozed off. Then I tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
‘Dinah, where’s Teddy? Does he know? And what about Charlie?’ I asked her, sitting down on the sofa.
‘I don’t know, Martha. I haven’t seen Teddy all day. Usually he calls over te see me da. An Charlie never comes over here. He doesn’t get on wit me ma. An she wouldn’t let him in anyway.’
‘Right. OK, Dinah. I’ll try and contact Charlie tomorrow. And what about young Sally?’
‘No, she doesn’t know either. It’s just us. We came back here, an we’ve been waitin for you te come. We didn’t know wha te do,’ she said, looking very lost. ‘You’re the only one tha came.’ Then she stared at me, wondering what was going to happen next.
‘Listen, Dinah, you go into bed and get a bit of sleep, and get Gerry to bed. He’s exhausted, and so are you. Come on,’ I said, standing up and pulling Dinah to her feet.
‘Gerry, it’s time for bed,’ I whispered over to him. He was still marching up and down, with his fingers stuck in his ears, talking to himself.
‘Ah no, Martha. I’m talkin te Harry! He keeps whispering te me, but I can’t understand wha he’s sayin, Martha!’ Then he turned away from me and started marching up and down again.
‘No, Gerry! Come on,’ I said, grabbing his arm and steering him out the door. ‘Come on, Dinah.’ She was standing where I left her, staring into space.
I pushed Gerry dow
n the hall and into his bedroom. ‘Now, get into that bed and go to sleep. Will you do that for me?’
‘Yeah, OK, Martha. But wha about Harry? He wants te talk te me. But I don’t like it, Martha. He won’t stop! Will ye make him stop it, Martha!’ he said, leaning over to stare into my face, hoping I would make his pain go away.
I looked into his eyes, seeing absolute trust and the pure innocence of a very young child. ‘Yes, Gerry. He’s going to stop. He just wants you to go to bed and get a good night’s sleep. Now, come on, into bed.’
‘Yeah! I’m goin te bed, Martha. Yeah! Yeah! Thanks, Martha! I think he’ll stop now,’ Gerry said, shaking his head slowly, content at that thought. Then he lifted his head, trying to give me a smile. But it couldn’t reach his eyes. They stared out at me, confused. Showing terrible pain and loss.
His eyes swam in tears, waiting to burst, but he was too shell shocked. Not able to make sense of this dark night of horror. It has cruelly grabbed him up in its snare, holding him fast. Leaving him trapped in its never-ending nightmare and a world of pain.
‘Goodnight, Martha,’ he whispered as he pulled his jumper over his head, getting the buttons in the neck caught in his hair. ‘Ah! I’m stuck! Me hair’s caught! Will ye get me outa this, Martha!’
I rushed to grab the jumper and peel his hair loose from the buttons. I pulled it over his head and threw it on the chair beside his bed. ‘Now you’re grand,’ I said, grabbing him to me and wrapping me arms around him.
‘Listen to me, Gerry,’ I whispered into him. ‘Harry is safe now. He’s all smiling and happy because he’s gone up to Holy God in heaven. Holy God couldn’t wait for him to get old, because, you see, Harry was very special. He was Holy God’s favourite person. So that’s why he had to go. Now, they know it’s going to pain you and the ma and Dinah and everyone, because he belonged to you, and you all wanted to keep him for yourselves. But you couldn’t, because Harry decided he wanted to go and live in heaven. Now he’s really, really happy, and he even has a new job. Do you know what that is, Gerry?’ I asked him, lifting his face to me.
