Ma, I've Got Meself Locked Up in the Mad House

by Martha Long

  Hatchet-face gave me a piercing stare. I stared back with a Mona Lisa smile, then turned my head slightly to the left, raising my eyebrows, and continued my stare.

  ‘Oh! For God’s sake, come on then,’ she said, tearing her keys from around her belt then storming out of the office and coming in through the end door. ‘You would persecute Jesus off the Cross!’ she snorted at me, rushing past to open the top door.

  I charged into the bedroom. ‘Quickly, Mabel! Grab your stuff. We’re getting out for a bath.’

  I bent down to grab my own stuff from my locker. Mabel started getting very excited, her eyes lighting up, and she started to giggle. ‘Now, Mabel,’ I whispered, grabbing her and holding her arm companionably as we raced for the door, ‘No messing! There’s more than one way to skin a cat! Don’t buck the system! Play it! We’ll be fine. We’ll get out of here!’

  I tore into the first bathroom, slamming the door, and I could hear the nurse fussing with Mabel, telling her not to lock the door.

  Two hours later, when we finally had enough of the bathroom, we unlocked the doors and came out looking like two boiled lobsters.

  Hatchet-face just pointed us back through the door into lock-up. She had lost her voice. It was from all her squawking and banging and threatening. Eventually, she had just given up and started sighing and tut-tutting, making it sound like she was on her last gasp.

  So now, after our wash and polish, we sat on Mabel’s bed, looking at all her lovely stuff.

  ‘Help yourself,’ Mabel said.

  I dipped into her make-up bag, helping myself to her face cream, rubbing it on my face, and splashed Miss Dior perfume behind my ears.

  ‘Put your stuff in your locker and let’s go and sit outside,’ I said, swooping up her things and standing up. ‘Come on! Let’s go and torment the nurses!’

  We went outside and I said, ‘Mabel! You bang on that end of the glass and tell them you want to see the doctor! Ask him how long more they are going to keep you locked up here! I’ll bang on this end.’

  Mabel looked unsure. ‘But I haven’t seen the doctor in ages! Not since they locked me up here!’

  ‘How long ago was that?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know! About a week ago,’ she said, thinking about it.

  ‘WHAT? That’s bloody terrible!’ I was shocked. My heart started pounding. So I was right! They can and will do what they like with you! I was not having this. I started pounding on the glass.

  ‘What is it?’ roared Hatchet-face.

  ‘I would like to see the doctor, please.’

  ‘Ah! Don’t be annoying me,’ she barked. ‘He’s busy!’ Then she went back to her conversation.

  I stared, my blood beginning to heat up. ‘Mabel!’ I roared. ‘Start banging!’

  Mabel watched me and started banging with her knuckles. ‘Come on!’ I said, waving to Mabel and racing into the bedroom.

  I whipped open her washbag, taking out a small tin of Vaseline and a hairbrush with a wooden handle for Mabel. ‘Save our knuckles,’ I said, handing the brush to Mabel and rushing out again.

  We stood at each end, making an unmerciful noise on the glass, beating out a din. Hatchet-face swung around, looking at me, and screamed at Mabel, ‘Stop that at once!’

  ‘Keep going, Mabel!’ I shouted.

  Mabel kept banging, getting into the swing of things, laughing and enjoying herself no end. She was banging and batting her eyelids in time to the noise, and Hatchet-face lost her rag and gritted her teeth and came rushing out of the office.

  ‘Down here, Mabel,’ I whispered.

  Hatchet-face came flying at us, and another nurse came pounding behind her. She made to grab Mabel by the neck of her dressing gown, and I stood in front, saying calmly, ‘Nurse! We really would like to see the doctor, please. I have not seen one since I got here. Mabel has not been looked at by a doctor in a whole week. It is your duty of care to ensure we get the best possible help that this hospital can provide! Now, we would both like to see a doctor to discuss that matter. Hmm? This is a very reasonable request. Now, please attend to this matter. Mabel here is costing her relatives a lot of money! They will be coming up to see her any day now. Isn’t that right, Mabel?’

  ‘Yes,’ whispered Mabel.

  ‘Well! You won’t be seeing the doctor for a long while!’ beamed Hatchet-face, her eyes dancing in her head with venom. ‘Furthermore, I am the Ward Sister here! Now get back to your room or I am going to report you both to him! Go on, whoosh!’ and she grabbed me, trying to steer me in the direction of the bedroom.

  ‘Wait a minute, please!’ I snapped. ‘Why won’t the doctor see me?’

  ‘You may ask him that when you see him!’

  ‘When will that be? And what about her? She’s been stuck in here for weeks!’ I roared.

  ‘She’s not your business!’ roared Hatchet-face. ‘Now don’t bang on that glass again!’ Then they stormed off, Hatchet-face looking back with murder on her red face.

  I was fuming. ‘Come on over here, Mabel!’ I wandered over to the corner and sat down on the chair, thinking.

  ‘Why did they lock you up, Mabel?’ I asked her.

  ‘Because I kept trying to escape!’ she said, looking down at her nails. ‘And I keep crying!’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked her gently.

  ‘I got very depressed after I had my baby!’ she said, tears coming into her eyes. ‘And I tried to kill myself!’

  ‘No! Don’t cry, Mabel. In this place it only gets you into trouble. We have to start trying to get ourselves out of this place. We can’t afford tears, Mabel! They only weaken you,’ I said, looking into her sad blue eyes. She looked like a frightened kitten.

  ‘How old is your baby, Mabel?’ I asked her, smiling.

  ‘She’s five months old.’

  ‘Ah! You are so lucky! Who is looking after her?’

  ‘My mother,’ she said, looking devastated.

  I pulled back, not wanting to upset her. ‘Look! Let’s just enjoy ourselves. We’ll . . .’ I tried to think what we could do. Then the end door opened and a nurse wearing a grey pinstripe suit and another one in a blue-and-white striped uniform with a frilly cap standing to attention on her head marched past. We both stared at them.

  ‘How are you, ladies?’ I mocked.

  The one in the pinstripe suit lowered her head, looking down at me over the top of her glasses, then stopped and stared, nodded to me, then looked at Mabel and said, ‘How are you today, ladies?’

  ‘Oh, we are fine, thank you. Mabel is in great spirits, aren’t you, Mabel?’ I nudged Mabel, showing her my teeth.

  ‘Oh! Yeah! Yeah!’ Mabel grinned, nodding to me.

  ‘Yes, indeed!’ I continued. ‘Everything is great! The food is great! The people are great,’ I said, nodding to Hatchet-face, who was leaning over the glass, looking very worried, watching us and then looking at the Matron – or whatever she is!

  ‘Yes! Yes!’ the Matron said, nodding her head and looking at the blue stripe.

  ‘The place is great!’ I intoned, as they drifted out the door. ‘But one complaint!’ I pointed my finger at the closing door. ‘The excitement is a bit too much for us! Our poor fragile minds!’

  Mabel started laughing, and Hatchet-face leaned her hands on the desk, peering over at us, saying something to the other nurse, who then shook her head at us, pressing her lips together. I waved, giving them a big slow wink! Mabel started shrieking laughing. It was lovely to hear her laugh. She tinkled, sounding like crystal being clinked. I beamed at her. ‘Yeah! We need to get ourselves a good laugh, Mabel!’

  The end door opened, and a tall, skinny, gangly fellow wearing a denim jacket and brown corduroy trousers came creeping over towards us. ‘Hello!’ he said, looking down at us with his hands dug deep down into his pockets.

  ‘Hi!’ I said slowly, looking at him.

  His eyes were sunk in the back of his head, and his puffy grey face looked like it hadn’t ever seen the light
of day. He kept twitching his nose and just stood staring at us.

  ‘My name’s Rory!’ he suddenly burst out. ‘What’s yours?’ Then he shuffled from one foot to the other, looking very uneasy.

  ‘Mine’s Martha, and this is Mabel.’

  ‘How’re ye, Martha? How’s it goin, Mabel?’ he waved and nodded to us.

  ‘How is it you are able to wear your clothes, Rory?’ I asked, staring at him.

  ‘Ah! I was just down in psychotherapy. But I caused a bit of a fuss, and they brought me back up,’ he said, snuffling.

  ‘How do you get down to psychotherapy? I mean, what do you have to do before they let you go there?’ I asked.

  ‘Well!’ he said, twitching his nose and blinking, shaking his shoulders.

  I held my breath, waiting, looking at Mabel, and she looked at me, and we both stared at him.

  ‘It’s like this!’ he said, shuffling like he was about to do a tap dance. ‘When you get your clothes, then they let you go! They take you down.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Nurses! They bring you down!’ he said, looking at me like I was thick.

  ‘Yeah, Rory,’ I said slowly. ‘But when do you get to have your clothes?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, scratching his head, looking very confused and trying to work it out. ‘They just give them to ye!’

  ‘Right! I see,’ I said, not seeing any bloody thing.

  Rory planked himself down beside us, leaning his back against the wall, and stretched his legs out. Mabel and I stared at each other and gave a big sigh.

  ‘Jaysus! Any more excitement today, Mabel, and I’m going to lose my mind!’ I said, dropping my face.

  Mabel burst out laughing. Then Rory started laughing, thinking he had said something funny. I looked at him, then at Mabel, and she roared her head off. So I started too. Then Hatchet-face came through the door and said, ‘Like to share the joke, boys and girls?’

  ‘Yeah! We just heard the doctor has been admitted as a patient! They’re bringing him up here to lock-up!’

  ‘Tut! Not funny!’ she snorted, giving me a dirty look.

  We roared laughing as she flew through the other door, banging it hard behind her and making sure we heard her locking it, to show us our place.

  ‘Frustrated aul bags! Jaysus! That one is haunted and hunted! Creeping around like an aul nun!’ I roared at the slamming door. ‘She loves her fucking job!’ I snorted.

  They roared laughing, and I threw myself into the chair, rolling myself a cigarette to cheer myself up.

  ‘Nothing ever happens here,’ I breathed out, muttering. Then suddenly I jumped up and started to do the Russian polka, landing on my arse and shooting out my legs. I used to do that in the convent as a kid, when we put on plays at Christmas for the nuns. ‘Hup!’ I screeched.

  The others jumped up, and Rory started to do the clodhoppers’ dance, lifting his legs high in the air and stamping his feet, shaking his head and screeching, ‘Hi diddle de de!’ Then Mabel and I flew up and down the passage doing a tango.

  A nurse started banging on the window. ‘Stop that noise!’

  We stopped to look.

  ‘I can’t hear myself think with the lot of you!’ she screeched.

  I laughed, staring at her. She glared at me with her squashed face; her nose was buried in a mound of flesh. Then I started singing loudly, ‘Take her up to Monto, Monto, Monto. Take her up to Monto!’ then she shook her huge mop of grey frizzy hair – it looked like Phyllis Diller’s, the mad comedienne – and shot out of her office, making straight for us. The end door flew open, and she came barrelling in screeching, ‘Rory Ryan! Get back to your own ward!’

  We watched as a shower of men came pouring in behind her. She left the door open in all the excitement!

  ‘What’s happening? Is there a party?’ asked one fellow, his eyes flying around the room, dancing in his head.

  ‘Everybody out!’ she roared, waving her arms at the lot of us.

  I made for the door with Mabel on my heels.

  ‘Not you!’ she screamed after us.

  We stopped, looking back at her as more men pushed their way in. The tall skinny fellow in the grey suit with the jam-jar glasses came rushing in behind them, pushing everybody out of the way, trying to make his way to the mad nurse. Then the other door opened and three nurses dragged in a tall girl with hair flying all over the place, screaming and kicking. ‘Fuck off! Let me out! Bastards! You arseholes, pricks, motherfuckers! Load a wankers!’

  We all stopped to gawk! Then the women came in to see what was happening. I pinched Mabel, laughing. Jaysus! The excitement is mighty.

  More nurses came thundering into the room, skating to a stop and looking around at the confusion.

  ‘Quick, Mabel! Let’s go for a walk.’ I grabbed her and flew out the end door, flying along the passage and into the women’s quarters. ‘Not a soul in sight! They must be all in lock-up,’ I said, swinging my head to Mabel. She had a big smile on her face.

  ‘This is the best thing that’s happened since I got here,’ I muttered, heading into the sitting room. ‘Look, Mabel! They have a colour television!’ I stared at the screen, then we looked out the window across to the men’s wing, and nurses were flying up and down, trying to push men back to their rooms.

  ‘Let’s hide!’ I suddenly said. ‘After all, we’re in the loony bin, and you can get away with anything here. Act the eegit. It’s what they expect!’

  We ran down to the nurses’ desk and hid inside the opening. ‘Watch what happens, Mabel!’ I giggled. ‘They’ll never think of looking for us in here! Gawd! This is great gas,’ I twittered. Imagine acting like this at my age! Better late than never, I thought. I’m catching up on my lost childhood. I was enjoying myself no end.

  ‘Try everywhere!’ We heard running feet, and Jam-jar giving out the orders. ‘Did you check the storeroom?’

  ‘Yes, nothing!’ Then heavy breathing as feet slapped past us.

  ‘They’re looking for us!’ I muttered to Mabel.

  She put her hand to her nose, trying to stop herself laughing.

  I gave her a tap. ‘No! Don’t give the game away,’ I snorted, laughing out through my nose. She was getting very red in the face, trying to keep in the laughing.

  ‘Sound the alarm!’ Jam-jar roared. ‘They’re not up here!’

  We could see their trouser legs and a fat pair of hairy legs stuffed into flat black laced-up shoes. They were worn down on the outside, as if the walker walked with a waddle from side to side. I shook Mabel, pointing at the legs. She squealed into her hand. I pushed her head down into her stomach and chewed my fist.

  There was a big bang and a sound like a foghorn blasted into the room. I shot my head out, and yer man’s head was turned away from me. I grabbed Mabel and ducked around the desk, heading for the men’s passage. She dived after me.

  ‘Colditz!’ I breathed, snorting laughing. We ducked into the storeroom, closing the door quietly behind us, then I leaned out. Nurses were heading up the men’s passage away from us.

  ‘Quick!’ I grabbed her, and we flew up behind them, ducking down so we wouldn’t be seen from the other side. We raced to the end door as the last pair of heels sailed through, locking it behind them. We dropped down behind the door and sat, waiting for someone to open it.

  Rory wandered up the passage, staring at us. Then he stopped and it hit him! ‘The nurses are gone bananas looking for you two! Hey! Hey, Nurses!’

  ‘No! No, Rory!’ I wailed, hissing after him. I looked back at Mabel and her face was turning purple from laughing.

  ‘Here they are!’ puffed bloody Rory. He was running and pointing, with nurses and grey suits and white suits on his tail. They rushed past him, sending him flying out of the way, screaming before they even reached us.

  ‘How dare you? How dare you disappear? You are in a lot of trouble,’ screamed Jam-jar, yanking the two of us to our feet.

  ‘Excuse me! How dare you scream at me? Take you
r hands off me at once.’ I pulled my arm away, totally indignant. ‘What are you talking about? Disappearing! We have been sitting here bored out of our skulls, waiting for one of you lot to open this door!’ I roared, pointing at the door. ‘We have been locked out of lock-up! How dare you lock us out?’ I screeched.

  Jam-jar whipped out his keys as more nurses came flying down to see what we’d been up to. ‘Where did you find them?’ Hatchet-face puffed as she came steaming down, out of breath.

  I looked disdainfully at her and marched in behind Jam-jar. ‘Come on, Mabel. These people need sedating! They are absolutely hysterical.’ We trotted in behind Jam-jar, who was having a quick conference with the rest of the creeps.

  We marched into our room, leaving the door open to hear what they were saying.

  ‘That one is a bad influence!’ moaned Hatchet-face.

  ‘I agree with you there!’ whispered Jam-jar. ‘We should separate them.’

  Mabel was laughing, and I said, ‘Don’t let them hear you. Play them at their own game. There’s nothing they can do. We’re already locked up! Fucking gobshites! We’ll think up another wheeze to keep them on their toes as long as they keep us locked up here!’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Mabel laughed, throwing herself onto the bed. ‘You know what, Martha?’ she said, looking almost normal, life coming back into her eyes. ‘That’s the first time I’ve laughed in months. No! I haven’t laughed like that for years.’

  ‘Well, Mabel, when in Rome, do as the . . . act like a lunatic!’ I roared laughing, walking over to my bed, feeling absolutely exhausted but satisfied. ‘That gave them a run for their money, Mabel,’ I sighed, feeling a bit weak. ‘I’m going to take a break. Call me if there’s any more excitement.’ The last thing I heard was Mabel giving her tinkly laugh.

  33

  * * *

  I lay back against the headboard, oblivious to the sounds going on around me. I glanced down at the book sitting on my lap and picked it up, dumping it on my locker. I can’t concentrate. It’s a load of rubbish anyway. Cutie! Cutie! Bloody nonsense. About a little boy and his adoptive parents, and their overwhelming joy! Written by a chancer who fancies himself a writer. Just because he has a high profile in one area, he thinks he is a bleedin genius! Mabel can have it back.