Ma, Jackser's Dyin Alone

by Martha Long

  ‘“Ma’am, if you do see him, please inform him he must report back to barracks. This is a serious matter,” they roared, raging I wasn’t shivering in me skin at how powerful and important they looked. With that, they turned tail and stamped off down the path, marching in step the pair of them, wearing their matching red uniforms with the military police armbands on the sleeve. A big bleedin army truck was landed outside the door, with the heads of a load of shivering young fellas all gaping out. I went out for a look. There was about ten a them sitting along the planks, with a soldier sitting guard and a rifle in his hand. They were all rattling and shivering with the knees knocking, praying for a miracle. Escapee desperados like yourself, Charlie, only now they got themself caught!’ I laughed, looking at him. ‘Do you remember that time, Charlie?’

  ‘Jesus, yeah,’ he laughed. ‘Do ye know where I was all that time?’

  ‘No, where were you? You never did tell me!’

  ‘I was hidin out in your coal shed,’ he laughed. ‘Remember tha time I turned up one day after been missin for a few weeks?’

  ‘Yeah!’ I said. ‘I remember. You got in with some troublemakers and lost your apprenticeship,’ I said sadly, still feeling disappointed at the loss of it.

  ‘Yeah! I started drinkin and didn’t turn up fer work or me classes. I loved the carpentry. Jesus! Tha’s where everythin started te go wrong,’ he said shaking his head, thinking back with a world of regret.

  ‘Oh, well!’ I sighed. ‘You won’t be the first or the last to make mistakes. God knows I made enough mistakes meself. Divorced by twenty,’ I laughed. ‘Or at least back on my own again.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he whispered, staring at the floor, thinking.

  ‘Do you remember the first time when I managed to find you, Charlie?’

  ‘Wha? When ye came down to the homeless boys’ hostel?’

  ‘Yeah! You were only fourteen. I was nineteen. I had the baby then and had got meself married. Well, wait until you hear this! Meself and himself were loading up the motorbike with the week’s shopping from Moore Street – we were down on Parnell Street. Anyway, suddenly, outa the blue, who comes flying by me but the ma. I watched, seeing her go past, wondering was I dreaming. Then little Dinah shouts, “Ma, ma! Lookit! It’s Martha, back there!” she points.

  ‘Fuck! I’m done for. The game’s up, I thought, staring in horror. I gaped, watching the ma come to a sudden stop then turn slowly to lock eyes on me. She stared so hard her eyes were crossing trying to take me in. My heart hit the roof of me mouth with the shock. Move! Fast! I thought, whipping me head to him then down at the wheels. But before I could land meself on the bike and take off with a flying leap, she was on me.

  ‘Up she flew, rushing herself in her excitement shouting, “How’re ye, Martha? Long time no see!” she screams, making it sound like the banshee screaming back up Moore Street. “Who’s this?” she roars, panting beside me, then steams at your man, making him walk backwards. He thinks he’s being molested by a madwoman.

  ‘“Eh! That’s my husband, Ma. I got married,” I said in a flat voice, just before me hanging.

  ‘“Wha, Martha, ye got married?” she breathes, wondering what that word meant. Her face fell and the jaw hung open as she slowly turned to look at me new husband. ‘“Who? Not te him?” she gasps, letting a sudden silence drop as she stood beside me staring yer man up and down, looking like she didn’t think much of him. “Jesus! He’s not much te look at, is he? Surely ye coulda done better than tha for yerself, Martha?” she croaks, letting it come out on a choke after losing her breath with the shock.

  ‘“What’s wrong with him, Ma?” I snorted, getting annoyed she wasn’t impressed.

  ‘“Ye married tha thing! An ye ask what’s wrong wit him?” she slowly whispers. “Sure, wha’s right wit him? Is he even right in the head?” she demands, beginning to lose the rag at him standing with the mouth open.

  ‘“He’s shy, Ma,” I said, looking up at him standing frozen with the shock, because never in all his born days did he ever come close to the like a my ma, never mind meet her ghost.

  ‘“His mammy was lovely. She even wiped his arse for him until I got me hands on him.”

  ‘“Jesus, Martha, tha was very unfortunate, landin yerself wit tha thing!” she sniffed, shaking her head with the disappointment. “I thought you had more sense! I don’t know, I think ye were very foolish altogether, throwin yerself away for tha article,” she mutters, turning her face to eye him with the jaw tightening.

  ‘“Ma, don’t start. You haven’t even said hello! Now you’re making a bleedin show a me,” I said, beginning to lose me own rag.

  ‘“Well! Wha are ye expectin me te say? Don’t take yer vengeance out on me because ye’re stuck wit tha!” she roared. “The damage is done, Martha! Now look at ye! See tha young fella there?” she pointed, throwing her fist at him. “You’re nothin but his slave now, when ye coulda been an old man’s darlin! One wit money!” she snapped, looking at me then glaring at him. “An another thing …” she whipped, letting rip to get dug outa me.

  ‘“Excuse me! Would someone mind telling me what’s going on? I don’t want to be in the middle of a riot,” a voice suddenly croaked.

  ‘Me ma blinked, hearing his voice for the first time. She snapped her head, looking up at him, waiting to hear more. He stood with his face turning all colours; now it was going black with the shock. “But …” he said, with his mouth opening and closing, trying to say something but nothing was coming out.

  ‘We watched his mouth moving; mine was doing the same, wanting him to get the words out. Then finally he gasps after taking in a deep breath. “Your mother?” he croaks out in a whisper.

  ‘“Yeah!” I said half-heartedly, shaking me head miserably at her. She nodded slowly, wondering what was coming, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously, watching him intently.

  ‘“But I thought you said she was dead!” he breathed, staring at me then looking at her, trying to take in the cut of her. She was standing in bare hairy legs buried deep inside a huge woman’s coat, after getting herself lost inside it. All you could see was a little head, the legs and dirty long toenails sticking out of a pair of sandals that had probably belonged to a monk.

  ‘Then it suddenly hit her! The air exploded as a mighty scream erupted. “Wha did you just say? Who’s dead? Who told you I was dead? Do I look fuckin dead te you?” the ma roars, blinking and shaking with the rage, then chewing the cheek off herself as she made to hit him.

  ‘My nerves went. I leapt in to drag her off him before she tore lumps outa him. “Here, Ma! No, stop! Come on, leave him alone! Let’s move up a bit. I want to talk to you on me own,” I rasped, hearing me voice gone from shock. “For God’s sake, Ma, I’m now a holy show!” I moaned, nearly crying with the rage, then thinking your man had heard enough for one day; the rest was me own business. Oh, Jaysus, Charlie, I’ll never forget it. I had only seen her the few times since I was sent away to the convent; that was enough for me. Now I had her dead and buried! And along she comes resurrected!’ I said, seeing him break his heart with the laughing.

  ‘Anyway, Charlie, that’s how I found out where you were staying. The ma told me.’

  ‘Yeah! Tha’s the time when I started comin te stay wit you an the husband.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right!’ I said. ‘You used to come every week and stay the whole weekend. Every week without fail, I thought. Jesus! Will I ever forget about them days. You were living in that house for homeless boys. Gawd, Charlie, that was a lovely set-up. It was run by a men’s business club. They were great, weren’t they?’

  ‘Oh, yeah! One of them was a big builder. He let me run free on his buildin sites. “Try out everything,” he said, “see what you like, then we’ll sort you out a trade.” Martha, it was great. I worked with the electricians, the plasterers, the bricklayers, everyone! But ye know wha?’ he said, pinning his eyes on me with a funny thought hitting him.

  ‘No, what, Charlie? Tell us.’
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  ‘Well, when I first started there, I was only fourteen, ye see?’

  ‘Yeah! Go on,’ I laughed, waiting to hear.

  ‘Well, I was the messenger boy, an when it came te doin the runnin about, the older fellas – well, the lot a them, really – used te get great enjoyment outa makin the fool a me.’

  ‘Yeah! Like what?’ I said, leaning forward with a grin on my face.

  ‘Ah, Jesus, there was one aul codger – he was the brickie, the bricklayer. Anyway, there I would be, runnin up an down gettin him buckets a water te mix the cement. Then one day he’s bendin down, workin along this wall he’s buildin. Suddenly he stands up an says, takin the Woodbine outa his mouth, “Listen, son, will ye ever go up over there te tha aul foreman an tell him te give ye a bucket a suds an a rubber hammer? Hurry! Run, son! I need it quick for this aul job here!”

  ‘But I didn’t shift, didn’t get movin. I’m standin there, Martha, hoppin from one foot te the other, starin up at him because I didn’t like the idea a botherin the foreman. He was a cantankerous aul beggar, always comin around an findin fault wit people; the men didn’t like him. Anyway, he was a bogman, a culchie from Connemara. So I didn’t want te make any mistakes an get meself inta trouble wit him or the brickie. So I says, “Is this right, Joe? Ye want me te get you a bucket a suds an a rubber hammer! Is tha it, Joe?”

  ‘“Yeah! Yeah!” he says, watchin me, lookin very intent. “Now hurry! Go on, I’d a made the bleedin thing faster meself than it takes you te shift yerself. Move, if ye don’t want me boot up yer arse!”

  ‘I took off like a bullet. I was a bit afraid a gettin on the wrong side a them, Martha. Anyway, I knocked on the door of the cabin. It was Mr O’Grady’s office. “Come in. Whacha want?” he roars.

  ‘“Eh! I’m te ask you for a bucket a suds an a rubber hammer, Mr O’Grady!”

  ‘He sat there starin at me then raised his eyes te the ceilin, mutterin, “Oh, holy mother of Jesus, there’s one born every minute!” Then he dropped his head, shakin it, an started writin again, sayin in a whisper, “Get out. Get out of me sight. I’m a busy man.”

  ‘I stood starin at him, Martha, still waitin, not knowin wha te do. Then he turned on me an roared, “What de ye want? I just told you to get out!”

  ‘“But wha about me bucket a suds?” I moaned. “He’s waitin!”

  ‘“Who’s waitin?” he shouted, losing the rag.

  ‘“Joe is! Joey Talbot the brickie, Mr O’Grady,” I whispered, nearly shittin meself wit the fright.

  ‘“Jesus!” he hissed, bitin his lip and shakin his head. “If I go down to them fellas, I’ll knock their block off! You go back and tell that Joey Talbot for me I’ll bring the bucket of suds down meself, quick an proper, because he’ll sure need it in a hurry when I put a fire under his arse! Now get going! Out!” he roared, pointin me out the door wit his finger.

  ‘I rushes te the door, stops, turns an comes rushin back again. He wouldn’t lift his head te look at me, Martha. So I stood shiverin an wringin me hands, not knowin wha te do. Them fellas would really lift ye out of it, Martha, if ye were thought te be anyway dopey; they always wanted everythin in a hurry. So I coughed at yer man an he lifts the head. “What is it now?” he gasps, really fed up wit me.

  ‘“Eh, wha about the rubber hammer, Mr O’Grady?! Will ye be bringin tha, too?” I asked, lookin up at him.

  ‘I couldn’t get out quick enough. He threw a book after me as I flew out the door. When I got outside, there they all were, about twenty a them, leanin against the door listenin. Well! The place erupted with the screams a laughin outa them. An all at my expense, Martha!’ Charlie says, with the eyebrows raised, still getting the picture as we screamed like a pack of hyenas, the pair of us roaring with the laugh.

  ‘Oh, gawd, Charlie, ye’re a scream.’

  ‘Sure, that’s nothin, Martha. Wait till ye hear this. I had te make the tea in the mornins for the workmen, an go for the messages. Ye know – go te the shop an buy their cakes, an cigarettes an maybe a bar a chocolate, or whaever they wanted. So, this mornin anyway, I turned up for work an headed straight inta the men’s tea hut where they had their dinner breaks an tha. Well! Anyway, this mornin … Jesus, Martha! It was really a brutal day. Absolutely bleedin FREEZIN it was.’

  I gaped with a laugh on my face, seeing his neck stretch, making the veins stand out with the word ‘freezin’; he really dragged it out.

  ‘Anyway! In I went te the hut, an the first thing they wanted was the bit a heat. Now, they had this “Superser” heater, one on wheels, an ye opened the back an jacked on the lead from the heater onta the gas cylinder. Jesus, Martha! It was so cold, the heater wouldn’t light. The gas cylinder was frozen solid. I knew they would lift me out of it, start shoutin an callin me all sorts a names, if I didn’t get it workin. I didn’t want tha,’ he said quickly, shaking his head from side to side, rolling his eyes. ‘So! I had a great idea. I turned on the gas stove, lightin it for boilin the kettle for the tea. But instead a doin tha – boilin the kettle, ye see?’ Charlie said, leaning his head over to me, making sure I understood.

  ‘Yeah! Yeah, go on,’ I said, nodding me head, listening to him.

  ‘Well, I lifted the gas cylinder and stood it over the flame, leavin it to thaw out. Then rushed off te get the messages, thinkin te meself I was very smart, really usin me noodle like, as they were always tellin me te do.’

  I started getting hysterical, laughing the head off meself.

  ‘Yeah, yeah!’ he roared, trying not to laugh. ‘No, wait! Wait till ye hear wha happened. When I rushed back wit the messages, I was just about te go up the steps when there was an unmerciful explosion! I was blown back about twenty feet inta kingdom come nearly! The whole place blew up, Martha. The roof went flyin one way and the two sides with the back went another! I ended up sittin in the ditch holdin onta empty brown paper bags all tattered in me two hands. The stuff was gone! They dug me outa the ditch; I was stuck right down the middle. But there wasn’t a scratch on me. Except me hair; tha got scorched!’

  I erupted with the laugh, watching his face as he looked so serious. ‘Gawd, Charlie. If nothing else, we always kept each other going with the laughs.’

  ‘Yeah!’ he said, thinking, then saying, ‘Tha’s when they decided it was much safer te keep me outa the way. I took te the carpentry because I loved workin wit the wood. They set me up with the carpenter, Old Wally Harris. He was a master carpenter. He had been a cabinet-maker until the old firm he worked for shut down. Then they sent me off te the college te learn me trade. Gawd, Martha, lookin back, I really loved them times. I could a had it made. But I threw it all away,’ he said, letting his voice drop, sinking his head, looking at the floor.

  I stared at him, wanting to say a million things. But every thought was just words. They meant nothing. Nor could I give him back his time, or even make things right for him now. The drink has too much of a hold on him. Anyway, it’s only a symptom. It’s the dead weight in his heart he’s always carried around that’s the problem. I knew that of old. I spent my life trying to help him. No amount of encouragement, giving out, picking him up and dusting him down made a blind bit of difference. It all comes to nothing in the end; sooner or later he’s back on the drink, then it’s all lost.

  No, the weight he carries has always been heavier than my own. So I said nothing. Things are what they are, Martha. You are you, and Charlie’s Charlie. But we are bound by a fierce protectiveness towards each other, born from a long, dark and lonely childhood – one that was very treacherous and sometimes deadly. We had to travel alone together, always keeping a lookout. We watched for the someone who didn’t want us to exist; that someone was Jackser. Now here we are pulled back together. Once again, it’s Jackser, Charlie and me waiting for the final showdown. For now, we just sat quiet, lost in our own thoughts, letting time pass, taking comfort from each other’s presence. Then I stirred, seeing Charlie sighing and lighting up a cigarette.

  ‘Do ye want one a these
, Martha?’ he said, holding out the packet to me.

  ‘No, love, I gave them up years ago. I prefer my roll-up tobacco; it’s much stronger.’

  ‘Jesus, Martha. You should give them things up. They’ll kill ye. Tha stuff has gunpowder in it, te keep them lightin! Did ye know tha?’

  ‘What, real gunpowder, Charlie?’

  He nodded, looking at me very worried. ‘Yeah, that’s why I can’t smoke them aul things; they burn the lungs outa me.’

  ‘Fuck! That’s all I need. No wonder me lungs feel like they are exploding these days,’ I laughed, feeling half-serious.

  4

  ‘Listen, Charlie,’ I whispered. ‘It doesn’t look like anyone’s coming up. Where are they? Where’s the ma? We’re here now all day and not a sign of anyone coming up to see him. I thought there’s bound to be someone, surely?’

  ‘I don’t think there will be anyone, Martha,’ he whispered, shaking his head and taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ‘Bit surprised, though, she’s not here.’

  ‘Who, the ma?’

  ‘Yeah. When I saw her the other day, she was rushin up here.’

  ‘Maybe we missed them, Charlie. They could have come and gone with us sitting here and not knowing.’

  ‘No! Tha aul one would ask if anyone came up. Ye know her! The nurses would tell her. Sure, they keep fallin over us every time they come in lookin for a patient on the mooch. They know they ramble in here te have their smoke.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ I said, looking around, seeing patients and their visitors draped in corners, talking quietly and smoking contentedly.

  ‘Anyway, come te think about it, sure, who is there te come in except the ma?’ Charlie said, looking annoyed.

  ‘Huh! How do you mean, Charlie?’

  ‘I dunno,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Sure, who’s left? You’ve been out of it, Martha. You don’t really know wha’s goin on any more, not since you had the kids. Even you an me lost touch! Everything’s changed, Martha!’