A Girl Called Blue

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  Blue put down her polishing cloth, then placed her hands flat on the ground and tried to get the rest of her body to rise through the air.

  ‘Ow!’ She fell, almost hitting the wall.

  ‘You’re going too slow!’ advised Jess, doing another three cartwheels to show her. ‘You have to do it fast, not think about it.’

  It made Blue feel dizzy and clumsy watching Jess, with her long, skinny body and perfect balance, almost fly through the air.

  ‘I just can’t do it,’ laughed Blue, as she collapsed again, crashing into a chair.

  ‘It’s so easy and you’ll feel great!’ enthused Jess. ‘Here, I’ll help you. Put your hands down and I’ll hold your waist. Now, lift your legs and …’

  Blue began again, but collapsed in a fit of giggling. Too late she saw the long, black skirt of a nun’s habit and heard the click of heavy black beads. It was Sister Regina, ‘The Crow’, the head nun. They were in trouble now.

  ‘What are you two girls doing?’ asked Sister Regina.

  ‘Nothing, Sister,’ they said in unison, standing up and trying to make themselves look presentable.

  ‘I wouldn’t call it nothing to have two big girls like yourselves tumbling around the corridor, showing off their knickers and falling on to convent property.’

  Blue looked at the floor, feeling the giggles coming from right down inside her, not wanting to look at Jess in case she felt the same. She could feel herself starting to shake with silent laughter. Jess suddenly exploded.

  ‘So, you girls think this is funny!’ said Sister Regina solemnly. They could feel the shift in tone, and instantly all thoughts of giggling and messing were gone. ‘Into my office!’ she ordered.

  Blue’s heart sank. They were going to be punished.

  Silently they marched down the empty corridor, across the hallway and down the next corridor that led to the head nun’s study, watching as she took out her keys and unlocked the door.

  ‘Inside,’ she ordered.

  The two of them stood, nervous and scared, in the middle of the room as the nun drew out her black leather strap.

  ‘What are the rules here in Saint Brigid’s?’

  Blue sighed. There were so many rules and regulations in Larch Hill that it would take hours to list them all off. Rules about getting up, rules about using the bathroom, rules about being in time for mass, rules about school, rules about cleaning the school basins and classroom and yard, rules about doing the laundry, rules about minding the babies, about clearing the table, rules about going to bed, rules about not talking. There was a rule to cover every single thing you ever did.

  ‘The rules are not to run or play in the corridors, Sister,’ said Jess.

  ‘And …’

  ‘And we broke them,’ added Blue.

  The nun stared at them, considering. ‘Hold out your hands,’ she said finally.

  Blue tried not to flinch as the strap rained down on her – one, two, three heavy blows. She blinked away the tears and cradled her hands under her arms as Sister Regina turned to Jess. A minute later it was over.

  ‘Dismissed – and back to work,’ said the nun, ignoring them now as they made for the door. Blue was barely able to turn the handle with the pain and stinging soreness in her hands.

  They walked in silence along the ground floor and up the stairs to the bathroom, then raced to the sink and let the cold water run over their fingers and palms.

  ‘Ow! Ow!’ they moaned in unison.

  ‘I hate her,’ said Jess. ‘We were only having fun. We weren’t doing any harm.’

  Blue leaned against the cool bathroom tiles. There was hardly a kid in the place who hadn’t had a smack or a blow, or a lash of the black leather strap or the cane. It was something they were all used to, being black and blue, and sore.

  ‘She’s mad!’ declared Jess. ‘She hates us all, hates us being happy. She can’t stand it!’

  Everyone knew the nuns were strict, but Sister Regina was a total disciplinarian. Everybody was afraid of her, even some of the nuns.

  ‘If I had a ma or a da or a big brother,’ continued Jess, ‘I’d tell them what she does to us. It’s because we’ve nobody that she picks on us. She’s a big bully. Blue, some day I’m going to just pack up and get out of here! You just wait and see. I’m saving Eileen’s money and when I get my chance I’ll take off and I won’t come back.’

  Blue said nothing. She didn’t know how she’d bear it in Larch Hill if she hadn’t Jess as her best friend.

  CHAPTER 4

  Wet-a-bed

  Blue didn’t know how it happened but bit by bit she found herself watching out for little Molly. At first she tried to pretend it was just because she pitied her, but after a while she realised it was more than that: she cared about her and wanted to protect her as if she was her own little sister. It was a bit like Mary, whose little brother Tommy was also in Larch Hill.

  ‘She’s always following you around,’ joked Mary. ‘She’s like your shadow. Just like Tommy.’

  Blue had smiled, secretly pleased, knowing that it was true. The two looked nothing like each other: Molly’s dark curly hair and deep brown eyes were in total contrast to her own straight hair, wide face and blue eyes, yet there was something about the little girl that made Blue want to help her. It was almost like having a little sister.

  She warned Lil and Mary and Jess to be kind to her and tried to get Molly to mix with the other girls her own age.

  ‘Go on and play with them,’ she begged one day. But Molly was shy and awkward, and hung back. ‘Why won’t you play hopscotch with the others, Molly? Go and have some fun with your friends,’ she urged, wishing the little girl would take the first few steps to making new friends instead of always standing back, alone, in the schoolyard or the recreation room. But Molly just stood there, shy and quiet, her brown eyes looking sad and hurt as she watched all the others having fun.

  ‘She’s a strange little thing,’ said Lil, ‘but she’ll settle.’

  Blue wasn’t so sure.

  ‘Why can’t I just play with you?’ Molly asked Blue.

  ‘Because you need to get to know the kids in your class, the ones your own age.’

  ‘But I don’t like them, and they don’t like me.’

  ‘You just don’t know each other yet, that’s all,’ Blue sighed impatiently.

  ‘Why does everyone call you Blue?’ asked Molly, changing the subject.

  ‘My real name is Bernadette Lourdes Una O’Malley,’ Blue explained, ‘but, because there were so many other girls called Bernadette and Bernie here, someone nicknamed me Blue when I was small. They said it was because I had the biggest and boldest blue eyes they ever saw! And the name stuck. But the nuns don’t like it, of course.’

  ‘I like it,’ said Molly.

  ‘Me too! Now, come on and we’ll go and see if anyone is on the swing in the back yard.’

  * * *

  Early one morning, before the mass bell had sounded, Blue stretched under the blankets. Molly was still fast asleep, her dark curly hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes closed.

  ‘Molly!’ she whispered. ‘Molly, wake up.’

  Molly stirred, but curled up again immediately.

  ‘Molly, you have to wake up!’ she whispered more urgently.

  Molly’s eyes opened slowly, her face changing, her eyes scrunching up.

  Blue wrinkled her nose. It was too late. Molly had wet the bed. She was in trouble again.

  ‘Good morning!’ Sister Carmel burst into the dormitory, yanking the curtains open. Tall and thin, she was much younger than the rest of the nuns. ‘Out of bed immediately,’ she ordered, ‘or you’ll all be late for mass.’

  The room filled with groans and complaints as the cold morning air greeted the girls.

  Throwing back her coverlet, Blue slowly got out of bed.

  ‘Molly! Up at once!’ ordered the nun, striding over. Cautiously the little girl sat up, her cheeks red, her hair tousled. The nun grabbed hold of
the floral bed cover and the blanket and pulled them back.

  ‘Ugh! Smelly!’ shouted Joan Doherty, a big, pimply-faced girl who loved to jeer at anyone younger and weaker than her.

  Sister Carmel tore all the clothes off the bed, revealing the yellow-stained sheets.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sister,’ whispered Molly, standing, shaking in her wet nightdress.

  ‘Wet-a-bed! Wet-a-bed!’ The call went up from Joan and her friends. ‘Wet-a-bed! Wet-a-bed!’

  ‘Leave her alone!’ said Blue, wanting to go over and punch Joan in the jaw. ‘She’s only small. It was an accident.’

  ‘She has accidents every night!’ jeered Joan. ‘She should sleep in a nappy with the babies upstairs.’

  Blue could feel the anger flare in her stomach. Molly had enough problems without Joan making things worse.

  ‘Come on, Molly,’ she offered. ‘I’ll take you to the bathroom.’

  ‘One minute, Bernadette,’ interrupted the nun. ‘Molly, strip the sheets off your bed and carry them down to the laundry room.’

  Molly looked scared, like she was going to break down and cry. She pulled the sodden sheets off her bed and bundled them up in her arms. The room filled with the smell of urine as she walked out towards the landing.

  ‘Disgusting!’ sneered Joan.

  Blue hated it, the daily humiliation of those who had wet their beds. She pitied Molly having to brave the jeers of the girls and the anger of the nuns. None of it was helping; constantly calling attention to Molly’s problem only seemed to be making it worse. She could hear the cat-calls from other dormitories at the other transgressors as they formed a line, all armed with their smelly, wet bedclothes. Molly joined them. Blue was washed and dressed and brushing her hair by the time the little girl got back. She watched as Molly began to pull on her school skirt and blouse.

  ‘Molly!’ she warned, ‘what about –’

  ‘I’ve no time to wash, I’m already late for mass,’ Molly interrupted. ‘I’ll just get into more trouble.’

  ‘No!’ insisted Blue. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the bathroom and help you. Quick. Hurry up!’

  Blue knew that the other kids in school and those who sat near Molly in the chapel were beginning to object to the strong smell coming from her.

  The line of children for the washbasins had cleared by now, and Blue grabbed hold of a towel and some soap and soaped the little girl all over. Then she dried her briskly with the rough towel, before making her put on her underwear and uniform.

  ‘Now, that’s perfect,’ she smiled, as she tidied Molly’s hair with the brush.

  Kneeling in the bench during morning mass she could guess what Molly was praying for. She could see it in her expression. Blue vowed to somehow try and help her to remember to wake up, get out of bed and go to the toilet.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Mystery Tour

  They all screamed out the tune of the Beatles’ new song ‘She loves you’, as Jimmy Mooney, the taxi driver, turned off the corner of Larch Hill and on to the Dublin Road, joining the cavalcade of taxis of every size and colour. Jess, Lil, Mary, Blue and Molly were all squashed into the back seat of the taxi. People in cars honked and hooted and waved at them as they went by. It was the best day of the whole year – the day the Dublin taxi drivers took the children from the city’s orphanages on a special day out. And it was the start of summer.

  ‘Are you all right in the back there?’ called Jimmy Mooney.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ they screamed back.

  They’d been up since early morning, and they’d said prayers at mass for the sun to shine and the rain to stay away. There had been no complaints at breakfast about lumpy or cold porridge or sour milk or no sugar, as nobody wanted to start the day with complaining. Even the nuns and kitchen staff were smiling – for once they too were having a day off and getting rid of their charges for a few hours.

  ‘The weather forecast is good,’ beamed Mrs MacFadden, the cook, as Blue pushed the heavy trolley of empty bowls and cups back into the kitchen.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye, dry spells and sunshine, that’s what the man on the radio said,’ replied the cook as she began to empty the bowls into the slops bucket for the pigs.

  Blue hoped that wherever they were headed it was somewhere out of doors. Every year the destination was a mystery, with no one knowing where they were going till they arrived. Last year they had gone to the pantomime in the Gaiety theatre and afterwards there had been tea and sausage rolls and cakes in a big hall nearby, and the lady who played Cinderella and the man who played Buttons had come to meet them.

  She wondered where they were going this year.

  Jimmy Mooney introduced the gang of friends to his mother, who was sitting in the front seat of the car.

  ‘She’s come along to help out and give me a hand with you all on the mystery tour today,’ he announced, his eyes kind in his big ruddy face.

  Mystery tour! They all looked at each other, almost bursting with excitement.

  ‘Nance Mooney,’ said the old woman, introducing herself. ‘Humbugs, pineapple chunks or a toffee?’ She turned around and offered them all a sweet from the paper bag in her plump hand. Blue chose a toffee.

  Jess took the three biggest humbugs, stuffing one into her mouth and putting the other two in her pocket for later.

  ‘Where are we going, mister?’ asked Mary.

  ‘Ah now, you wouldn’t want me to ruin your surprise. There’s plenty of fun and games organised for you, that’s all I’ll say.’

  ‘Are we going to Kerry?’ asked Jess.

  ‘That’s a bit far, pet,’ he replied, ‘especially with a crowd like this.’

  ‘Are we staying in Dublin?’ cajoled Lil.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Are we going to Ringsend?’ Molly called out.

  ‘Ringsend?’

  ‘That’s where I used to live with my mammy and daddy,’ she said eagerly. ‘I’d like to see it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Blue could see the driver’s eyes soften as he looked in the mirror. ‘We’re not going anywhere near it, I’m afraid.’

  Molly wriggled on Blue’s lap and Blue gave her a hug, hoping the little girl would forget her sadness for once and just enjoy the day.

  They drove through the city, crossed a bridge over the River Liffey and went up O’Connell Street, the biggest and widest street in Dublin. Jimmy pointed out Clery’s famous clock, the GPO, and the Gresham hotel where all the famous film stars stayed.

  ‘Nearly there, girls,’ announced Jimmy at last as the black Ford Cortina car turned up onto a big roadway with vast green fields and woodlands on either side.

  ‘Is this a park?’

  ‘One of the biggest in Europe,’ he grinned. ‘This is the Phoenix Park. See that house over there, the big white one? That’s where the President of Ireland lives.’

  ‘Is this his garden?’ Mary asked, as they all gaped out the window at the huge lawns and trees.

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘This garden belongs to the people of Dublin, to all of us.’

  He turned off another road, following a line of cars driving slowly one after another. There were kids crammed into every car, all, like themselves, anxious to discover their destination.

  Minutes later they came to a halt near to a big wooden fence and a gateway with a thatched awning, and letters carved on it with the name: Dublin Zoo. Blue couldn’t believe it – the very place she’d wanted to go.

  They all had to form a line, and one by one pushed through the heavy iron turnstiles that signalled the entrance to the zoo. Mrs Mooney helped to count the tickets and make sure there was one for everyone.

  ‘Bernadette O’Malley, Lily Hennessy, Molly Dempsey …’ A man with a big hat was calling out names and putting the children into groups. ‘You must all stay in your group,’ he warned, ‘as we don’t want anyone to get lost. Some of these animals are dangerous, to say the least. You are not allowed to feed the animals unless the keepers permit it,
nor are you to frighten or startle the animals in any way. Do you all understand me?’

  ‘Yes,’ they all chorused, eager to get on their way and begin exploring.

  Once Blue’s group was organised, Jimmy and Mrs Mooney, and a short little man with sunglasses called Bill, began to lead them on a tour of the zoo.

  The air all around was filled with noise, sounds so strange and different – squawks and screeches and roars and chattering, sounds of the jungles and forests – that for a second Blue was a little scared. Molly gripped her hand tightly.

  ‘It’s all right, Molly,’ she reassured the little girl. ‘The animals can’t hurt us.’

  They stopped to gaze at deer behind a high wire fence. There were reindeer with big, heavy antlers, thin, nervous gazelles and strange animals called wildebeest, all chewing at the grass and blinking slowly at them. Along the edge of a big lake was a flock of pink flamingoes each balanced on one leg, not even wobbling as the girls from Larch Hill ran noisily past them. Blue was reminded of Sister Monica’s stories of Africa, where all the animals gathered at the water hole when the sun went down.

  Bill led them right to the lion’s den. They don’t look very fierce, thought Blue, until she noticed the hunk of meaty bone that the male lion was eating, his huge mane moving as he tossed the heavy bone back and forth like a little piece of cloth.

  Beside every enclosure was a big sign with information about the animal and a map showing what part of the world it came from. Blue read each one carefully and told Molly all about the animals.

  Blue wrinkled her nose when they went into the reptile house. It was much warmer here. Lizards and scaly things stuck out their tongues at them, some lizards able to hide by changing colour to look like stones and twigs.

  ‘Look, there he is!’ shouted Molly as a lizard darted out his tongue against the glass. There were slimy snakes, a sleepy boa constrictor and a huge crocodile half-hidden under dirty brown water. They could see him blink. Blue told her friends of Sister Monica’s story of the great big basking crocodile that lay hidden in Lake Azura waiting for the chance to snap his jaws and grab at the arm or leg of some unwary swimmer or water carrier. He looked sleepy and rather harmless, the nun had said, but suddenly, with a flip of his tail and a twist of his heavy body he could swim and catch his victim in a few seconds.