Wandering in Exile

by Peter Murphy

  “I’m very sorry for your troubles,” the mourners offered, but Jacinta hardly heard; she was deep in her own thoughts, swirling like fog inside her. And she was getting mad at Jerry. He could have tried to look after himself but it seemed like he just gave up in the end. Deep down inside, she understood. Jerry was never going to be content unless he could be Jerry and she couldn’t help but feel a little admiration for that.

  “She’s still in shock, God love her,” the mourners agreed when she didn’t respond.

  But that was all well and good for him; she was the one left alone again. Just like when she was sent to the hospital and he ran off to England. Except then, she was still able to believe that one day she would get out.

  “I brought you a cup of tea,” Anne Fallon insisted, and held it before her until she took it in her trembling fingers. Jacinta didn’t want it, but she knew Anne was just trying to be nice. “Drink it now. It’ll do you a bit of good.”

  Jacinta sipped it. Sure, there was still Danny, but he was no good to anybody anymore. She was angry at him too. No matter what he had had to put up with, he had no right to show up in the state he did. God only knows what he must be inflicting on Deirdre and the children.

  And they’d be gone one day, too, and she’d probably never get to see them again. Deirdre and her mother would try to hold it all together for a while, but once a family was broken, it shattered everything.

  “I’m very sorry for your troubles.”

  Mrs. Flanagan stood over her. She had her coat on and was ready to leave. She’d had her cup of tea and didn’t want to be a bother. She’d only come over to share her condolences. She looked down at Jacinta with that same look and Jacinta was mad at her for that. She was always looking like she expected Jacinta to have some kind of answer that would make everything okay.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Flanagan. That means so much more—coming from you.”

  Mrs. Flanagan seemed content with that and left, pathetically shuffling away. Jacinta would never allow herself to become like that. Jerry was gone wherever he was gone and no amount of kneeling and praying the afternoons away would ever change that.

  She was angry at Nora too. Not for all that had happened. Jacinta was mad at her because here, at the end of it all, she was going to have to deal with everything alone.

  “Mrs. Boyle,” Fr. Dolan addressed her as he sat in the chair opposite her. He was like that—very pompous. Jerry used to say that he behaved like he had invented the whole business of God all by himself. “May I offer my sincerest condolences?”

  Jacinta was angry at him too. He was the one who had driven poor Fr. Reilly out. Jacinta had heard it from Mrs. Dunne a few weeks before she died.

  “And though I didn’t get to know the deceased as well as I would have liked to, I can say with certainty that he will be sorely missed by the community.”

  Over the years he had managed to finagle donations out of Jerry for the youth club and things like that. Jerry, the soft-headed old fool, had been more than happy to hand it over too. “So they’re not out getting into drugs and things like that.” But she knew better than to say anything. “Thank you, Father,” she managed before lowering her head and staring into the coals.

  “It’s at times like these, Mrs. Boyle, that even I struggle to accept the Lord’s plan.”

  Jacinta might have snorted. There was no plan. People just got born, lived their lives and died. All that mattered was whether or not they had been good to each other along the way. Fr. Reilly had told her that, only not in so many words. Fr. Dolan was a different kind of creature—more of a salesman.

  “But we that are left behind must struggle on. Perhaps, after your mourning, we could talk about an idea I had to make sure that your husband’s good name is remembered, along with the good names of his parents. May they all rest in peace.”

  Jacinta didn’t look up. Instead, she stared into hottest part of the fire. It made her face flush and her eyes began to sting but she wouldn’t look away until he left. She knew that he had been on at Jerry for money for something or other a few months back.

  “Well, I leave you to your mourning. You will want a mass?”

  She had to look up at that. Jerry always said that he was like an insurance salesman. And that the price of the mass kept going up. ‘Money for old rope,’ he used to call it. She just nodded to get rid of him. She knew that he knew she had very little time for him.

  And in time, they all left. Neighbors first, until it was just Anne and Gina, cleaning and putting away. Danny had passed out and gone to bed.

  “Will you be all right?” Gina asked from the doorway. Anne stood behind, putting on her coat, but ready to stay if she was needed.

  Jacinta just nodded as Gina came over, kissed her head, and then left her alone with her grief.

  *

  After Danny came back, more dark and brooding than ever before, and his mother came to visit for almost three months, Deirdre begged Miriam to visit. At first, Miriam felt that she and Karl were too busy, but she finally got it: Deirdre really needed to see her and spend some time with her. Miriam had to check with Karl first, but she was sure that they would be able to visit over Thanksgiving—Canadian Thanksgiving.

  They offered to stay in a hotel but Deirdre wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted to be able to sit and chat, over coffees, in her own recently remodeled kitchen, with pot lights and stainless-steel fixtures. It mightn’t be the type of thing to impress Miriam but it made Deirdre feel better about herself. She had most of the house re-done after Danny ‘moved’ into the basement.

  He had built a bar down there. It was some tacky 70s stuff that Frank had torn out of a job. Danny was delighted with it and, as it was on the opposite end from the laundry room and the kids’ TV room, Deirdre couldn’t care less. He had an old couch down there, too, and spent his nights there.

  It was strange for them all at first, but Martin just acted like his father wasn’t around anymore. Deirdre knew what he was doing. Martin was embarrassed, only he’d never let it show. She was doing the same thing, herself, and for a while it seemed like a very good arrangement—for everyone except Grainne. Deirdre didn’t like her going down there but it was the only way she could spend time with her father.

  Sometimes, when they had all gone to bed, Danny would take out his guitar and sing and play softly to himself. It drifted up through the vents, along with the traces of his cigarette smoke. He had put filters in all the vents but it just made his music muffled. She could just hear his voice, softly cracking and wavering, as she lay staring at her ceiling. But it wasn’t really Danny anymore, just the ghost of what he might have been. Things could have been so much different, but they weren’t and now all that was left was to clear up the mess and get on with the business of living.

  The next time would be the last; she had promised herself, even after she had debated it from all sides. It was what was best for all of them, even Danny. Only, she’d have to wait for the inevitable to come around again. Danny was in a vortex and every time, like now, when he clung to the edge, clinging on for dear life, she was tempted to reach out with her toe and crush his fingers and get it over with, once and for all.

  She would never do it. Instead, she would just stand there, beyond caring, and let life take its course. It would be better for them all in the long run.

  And she couldn’t do anything while Jacinta was over. After Jerry died, Gina put Jacinta on the payroll, as a director, and Donal knew better than to object. And she gave her money to come to Canada, too, to spend time with Danny. Deirdre wasn’t consulted until it was all arranged. Danny mentioned it while she was sitting at the table with the kids and retreated to his lair before they could discuss it. That’s what upset her—that she had no say in the matter.

  Still, she was determined to see it through with as much grace as she could muster. She liked Jacinta but she also knew what she could be like sometimes. And the last thing Danny needed was someone to drink with. Deirdre had tried getting
him to talk—at least about his father, but Danny had closed down completely. He lived inside a pall of gloom and made everything around him seem less and less worthwhile. He still talked with Frank, who had tried everything to get him to snap out of it. He was on the verge of giving up too.

  It was going to be hardest on Grainne. She had started to look to her mother for reassurance but Deirdre had nothing to give her. She tried reaching out and holding her but they had never been that close. Perhaps after her father was gone things might change, but for now there was nothing else to do but wait.

  **

  “The point is, Ma,” Danny had said, looking over the rim of his glass for emphasis, “nothing is like they say it is. We all get tricked into believing that there is good in the world but there isn’t. It’s just a whole bunch of people running around distracting themselves until their time is done. That’s all, and the sooner we all accept that, the better.”

  They had been drinking all day since Danny got back from the liquor store with a fresh supply.

  “Ah, now, Danny. That’s an awful dark way of looking at things. I prefer to try to see things a bit more positive.”

  “Right! And look where that got you.”

  Jacinta’s eyes welled up again. She had done a lot of crying since she came over, for herself, for Jerry, and for Danny. She hadn’t meant to. She had wanted to come over and just spend some time with him—time that would be spent remembering Jerry for all the good he had done. She just wanted to be able to talk about him until she was satisfied that there was nothing more she could have done. She wasn’t angry at him anymore. Now she felt like if only she had looked after him a bit better . . .

  “Life is a load of shite, Ma, and anyone who tries to tell you different is just trying to sell you something.”

  He wasn’t her son anymore. He was a man full of bitterness and badness. He had a meanness about him, a dark bitter meanness that burned like a fire inside him. She wanted to tell him to snap out of it for the children’s sake if nothing else, but it wasn’t all his fault. It was like a hereditary disease and she could see the same look in little Grainne’s eyes that Danny used to have when he was a child. She hadn’t been able to chase it away then, and it wasn’t for her to do now.

  At the back of it all, Jacinta still blamed herself. She shouldn’t have gone running off that night with the baby in her arms. What did she think was going to happen after that? And she could have gotten out of the hospital sooner. Instead of sitting around feeling sorry for herself, she could have just gone along with all they told her and she would have been out years earlier. She could have done it for Danny’s sake. It was no wonder he was turning out the way he was.

  “What are you crying about now?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking back, pet, that’s all.”

  “There’s nothing back there that’s worth crying about anymore.”

  “Ah don’t say things like that, Danny. It was where we were all born and bred, and it’s where your father was laid to rest. It wasn’t all bad between him and me, you know? He and I had a lot of good times, too. It just took us some time to get to know each other.”

  “Jazus, Ma. Don’t be trying to make a saint out of him, for Christ’s sake. He was a miserable, gutless bollocks. He was the one who let them put you in the fuckin’ loony bin.”

  It hung in the air between them for a while, then slowly wafted away, out toward the hall.

  “Don’t be saying things like that, Danny. That’s all done now.”

  “Well, maybe you can forgive him but I never will.”

  Jacinta choked back a few tears but she was determined to try to set him straight. “We all make mistakes, Danny boy, and we shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I made my fair share too.”

  “Tell me about it. And I’m the one still paying for them.”

  **

  “Mum?”

  “Yes, Martin?”

  “Why did Granddad Jerry let them put Grandma in the loony bin?”

  **

  “He must have overheard something and got the wrong idea. You know I’d never say anything like that to him.”

  Deirdre tried to remain calm. She didn’t think Jacinta had, but she wouldn’t put it past Danny. He was so desperate to rationalize the state of his own existence that he was only too happy to tear at everybody else’s, especially his son’s. She got that; it was part of his disease but it didn’t change things.

  “And I doubt Danny would have said that.” Jacinta was wringing her hands but they both knew better. “Would it do any good if I had a word with him? The poor little chap. It’s not right that he should be going around believing something like that.”

  Deirdre thought about it. Her first reaction was to say that Jacinta and Danny had done enough damage, but she couldn’t. Besides, she knew that Danny was spoiling for a fight and it was better to lie low until he got past that. She knew his pattern so well. Jacinta’s visit, and all they had talked about, had stirred it all up inside of him. Anything she did or said would just light the fuse.

  She wasn’t worried for her own sake, but she was for her children’s. If she could just get them to all keep their heads down for a little while longer his anger would turn to cold brooding and, in time, that would have to come bubbling out. He would go on one more wild spree and that would be it. That would be the reason she needed.

  “No, Jacinta. I have already talked with him. I told him that he must have misunderstood.”

  She hadn’t. She had told him that his father was very sick and he shouldn’t pay any attention to anything he said right now. Martin, being as perceptive as he was, asked why Grandma Jacinta hadn’t said it wasn’t true.

  **

  “Grandma Jacinta is . . . well she’s so upset about Granddad that she is not being herself right now.”

  “Is she going crazy again?”

  He said it in such a matter of fact way that she had to be honest. “I think we all are.” She wanted to see him smile again and he did, but like he was forcing it for her sake. So much damage had been done already. ‘The wreckage of the past.’ She had heard the phrase so often and was finally coming to realize exactly what it meant. “Martin. It’s a really bad time for everyone right now. It’s just like in hockey. Sometimes you just have to force your way to the . . . goal.”

  “It’s called the crease, Mum, and I hate when you try to talk hockey.”

  “But you do understand what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Sweetie, I need you to know that Mammy will deal with it.”

  “Are you going to make Dad leave again?”

  She thought about reassuring him but she wanted to know what he thought Grainne would do.

  “I think I might have to.”

  “I think so too.”

  “What do you think Grainne will do?”

  They fell silent for the rest of the drive home, but when they were hauling his bag from the van, he hugged her for a moment. “It’s going to be all right, Mum. I’ll look after her.”

  **

  “He didn’t misunderstand anything.”

  And even as she said it, Jacinta lowered her head and began to cry. At first, Deirdre just sat there, with the table between them. She had never had to deal with Jacinta like this before, not personally. But she had to now. She rose and cradled her mother-in-law’s sobbing head against her. It was the same thing she had done with the kids, so many, many times, but it felt weird. So she squatted until she could look up into Jacinta’s teary face.

  She looked so much older from there and so frail and frightened. She cried openly and honestly; Martin had overheard them and she hadn’t stood up for Jerry because she was afraid that Danny would erupt and spoil things for everybody. “But I see now, I’m not doing anybody any good being here.”

  “Oh, don’t say that, Jacinta.” Deirdre handed her a box of tissues. She kept one in every room.

  “Deirdre,” Jacinta wiped her face
and tried to look determined. “We both know what’s really going on and the last thing you needed right now is a visit from your mother-in-law.”

  “No, Jacinta. Don’t think like that.”

  “Now, Deirdre. Don’t be trying to tell me what to say or think. Wasn’t I doing both before you were born.” She had raised her head and smiled through the last of her tears, like she was letting Deirdre know she was going to be on her side now. “Not that I was ever great at it.”

  She seemed to mull over that for a bit as Deirdre squatted and waited. Her thighs were killing her but she distracted herself by thinking of all the tightening she was doing. Besides, Jacinta seemed a lot happier.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something, Deirdre?”

  “Yes?”

  “From before?”

  Deirdre knew what was coming but got ready to smile anyway.

  “Did you get back with Danny because you felt guilty?”

  Deirdre had to smile at that. Jacinta wasn’t crazy—she was just far too perceptive. Maybe that’s where Martin got it. “Which time?”

  Now it was Deirdre’s turn to cry a little, but she fought against it.

  “Oh, now I’ve gone and upset you even more. It’s Danny that should be out here crying instead of you. You are a good, kind woman, Deirdre, and the best mother to my grandchildren. You deserve a better life than this and I’m going to start seeing you get it.” She nodded to her own thoughts as Deirdre rose to take it all in. Jacinta was giving her blessing and Deirdre loved her for that.

  “And I’ll begin by getting out of your hair and letting you get on with what has to be done. Do you need any money? I wanted to give you some, only I don’t want himself to know about it.”

  It was done; they were joined in conspiracy. “Thank you, Jacinta, but I don’t think I’ll need it.”

  “You will. Besides, if you dangle it in front of himself like a carrot, he’ll follow it, right out the door.”