Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (3 page)

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Authors: Martha Long

Tags: #ma, he sold me for a few cigarettes, #Dublin, #seven stories press, #1950s, #poverty, #homelessness, #abuse, #rape, #labor, #ireland, #martha long, #memoir, #autobiography, #biography, #series, #history, #poor, #slums

BOOK: Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes
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We walked on inta the dark hall. We could hear the singin an the buzz of voices comin from upstairs. Me ma fell over a body lyin at the bottom of the stairs. She gave an awful scream, an the mound of coats moved te show a head wit bloodshot eyes starin up at us in confusion. ‘Jaysus, it's Hairy Lemon! Get out, ye dirty aul sod,' me ma shouted at him.

The young fellas rushed in, an when they saw me ma was all right, they laughed an said, ‘He won't harm ye, missus. We'll put him out fer ye, if ye want.'

‘Ah, leave him. So long as he doesn't come up an murder me in me bed, I don't care.'

The door opened on the landin, an Cissy came out. ‘Who's that? Who's down there?' she shouted.

‘It's only me, Cissy. Hairy Lemon gave me an awful fright. He's sleepin at the bottom of the stairs.'

I dashed inta the room, an it was lovely an warm. The fire was roarin red, an the fryin pan was on top of the fire wit sausages an rashers sizzlin away. The lamp had a new wick, an it was burnin brightly, throwin shadows on the walls. Me cousin's head shot up from the pilla, an he was delighted te see me. ‘Cissy told me a story,' he said. ‘An I saw Mrs Coleman. She was dead! An I got lemonade, an biscuits, an cake. Me ma's up there, an Cissy is mindin me. You should a been here, ye've missed it all. I got everythin!'

I was lost fer words an started te cry. I was not goin te be outdone.

‘Ma, bring us up te the wake, Ma. I want te go te see Mrs Coleman.'

‘No! Ye're goin te bed, it's too late.'

‘Ma, I want te.'

‘If ye don't stop tha keenin, I'll leave ye down wit Hairy Lemon!'

Then Cissy said te me ma she'd take me up fer just a minute, an Barney was outa the bed in a flash. ‘I'm comin, too. Me too, Cissy!'

So we banged up the stairs ahead of Cissy, an the landin was crowded. Nelly was draped over two old women sittin wit black shawls draped aroun them, their noses blocked tight wit the free snuff they were shovin up. They had bottles of stout lined up an were shovellin ham sambidges, an cake, an pig's cheek inta their mouths like there was no tomorrow. Nelly was dozin wit the bottle of porter in her hand but stirred herself when she saw us comin.

‘Ah, me beauties! Me lovely childre! The light a me life, come here an give us a kiss.'

She dribbled all over Barney an tried te catch me. Barney was tryin te climb up on her lap at the same time she reached out fer me, an the chair toppled over. Nelly went backwards, takin Barney an the old women wit her, cos she grabbed a hold a them. The pig's cheek an the porter spilt over them, an they all ended up in a heap on the floor.

Nelly said, ‘Fer the love a Jaysus!' An the old women screamed, ‘Help! I'm kilt!' An Biddy, who was wrapped aroun two old men an a woman, stopped singin an squinted over te see wha was happenin an said, ‘Ah, nobody's hurt; it's only Nelly enjoyin herself.'

I went inta the back room where the corpse was laid out on the bed. Chairs were lined up against the wall, an people were sittin suppin porter an eatin an talkin in hushed whispers.

‘Come in, babbies, come in,' they said te me an Barney. ‘Go over an say a little prayer. Little childre are always very welcome. Yer prayers are mighty. Holy God always listens te the prayers of little childre. Kitty! Will ye lift up there the little craturs te see the corpse.'

Barney sped outa the door, screamin fer his mammy. But I'm not a babby. He is, he's only three. I'm four. I held me breath, an Kitty, the daughter of the corpse, lifted me up. The corpse was like a marble statue. She was in a brown habit, an her hands was wrapped in rosary beads.

‘Tha's right, chicken. You say a little prayer te our blessed Lord, an he'll take poor aul Mrs Coleman straight te heaven,' Kitty said te me as she began te swing me closer te the corpse.

I started te squeak, cos I could see up the corpse's nose, an I thought she was goin te suddenly wake up an grab me. I was gone like lightnin an didn't wait fer lemonade an biscuits an cake.

6

Me ma is very busy in the back room, sortin out all our things. She has the suitcase opened up on the bed. She's puttin things in an takin things out again. ‘Jaysus Christ!' she mutters te herself. ‘I can't get anythin in this suitcase, it's like herself.'

She means Aunt Biddy, who left it behind when Cissy an herself went back te England. Me ma tries te squeeze in me granny's two china dogs, but they won't fit.

‘What'll I do? I can't leave them behind or tha Nelly one will pawn them if she gets her hands near them. Ah, fuck it, she can have them.'

‘Ma! Mind me weddin frock, don't crease it!'

‘Wha weddin frock are ye talkin about?'

‘The one Cissy bought me fer the weddin she's havin. Is it at the bottom of the suitcase, Ma? An me boots?'

‘Ah, don't be mindin them an their weddin, they can keep it.'

‘But what about me frock an boots, Ma? I want te see them. Let me see them, Ma!'

‘No! Gerraway from tha case. If ye toss them things, I'll swing fer ye.'

‘I only want te see me frock, Ma! Let me!'

‘Lookit! I had te pawn them te get the few bob. We're takin the boat tonight, an I'll need every penny I can get me hands on. Now come on! I have te rush aroun an get me hair permed.'

I roared me way up Thomas Street, me ma pullin an draggin me an threatenin she'll be hanged fer me if I didn't stop me carry on. Aul ones stopped te chastise me, an one aul one bent down te tell me Johnny Forty Coats was on his way down te take me away cos he could hear me roarin. Me ma laughed. Then the aul one put her hand inside her shawl an gave me a penny. So I went inta the shop an bought meself an ice pop. Me contentment lasted as long as me ice pop, an when we got te the hairdresser's, I started again.

Me ma pushed open the door, an the bell on top of the door rang out.

‘How're ye, Sally? Haven't seen you in a long while?'

‘I'm grand, Ivy! I'm lookin te get me hair done.'

‘Lovely! Sit down over there. I'm just takin these outa Mrs' hair here, an I'll be wit ye in a minute. What are ye havin done, Sally?'

‘Ah, I'll have a cold wave.'

‘Yeah, that'll suit ye. Is this the little un? God! She got very big, God bless her.'

‘Ah, me heart is scalded wit her, she's tormentin me no end.'

‘Ah, now, ye have te be good fer yer mammy. Ye'll be very good, won't ye? And do wha yer mammy says.'

I got very annoyed, the cheek of the ma sayin tha about me when I'd stopped cryin! So I started again.

‘Ma! I want te go home, bring me home, Ma!'

‘Will ye stop interruptin me when I'm tryin te talk! Ye see what I mean, Ivy?'

‘Right!' Ivy said te me. ‘I'm goin te put ye out in the back yard wit the Banshee.' But I knew she was only kiddin, cos the Banshee only comes at night te sit on yer winda an keen te warn ye someone was goin te die. So tha didn't frighten me.

I was enjoyin meself playin wit the door, openin an shuttin it te make the bell ring. But the aul ones said it was drivin them crazy. Aul Mrs Rafters, the wida, called me over an asked me te pick up her bag, an she took out her purse an handed me a thruppeny bit. I was gone fer ages, cos I wanted te take me time decidin on wha te spend me money on. When I got back, me ma was ready. Her hair was flat on her head wit waves. I didn't get a chance te get a good look, cos she covered it wit a scarf in case the wind blew out her perm. She was all excited. ‘Come on, Martha! It's gettin late. We'd better hurry.'

The ma put on her frock an coat, an washed me face, an combed me hair, an put on me other clean frock, an buttoned up me coat. An then she took the suitcase from the bed an checked her handbag te see if she had everythin. She put her door key on the mantelpiece an looked aroun the room an said, ‘Have I got everythin? Let's go, then.'

She closed the door behind her an banged the suitcase down the stairs. I ran through the hall an out inta the street. I was all excited. I looked up an down, but there was no one te see me goin. I was hopin Tommy Weaver might see me an be ragin, but there was no sign of anyone, it was very quiet. We went down the hill past me old school. The bars were still gone, an they'd covered up the hole wit chicken wire. I never went back there. I don't know why, an I didn't ask.

I was askin me ma about the boat an wha would we do if it sinks, but she wasn't listenin te me. She was chewin her lip an lookin inta the distance, tryin te hurry wit the heavy suitcase.

We walked down along the quays an waited at the Ha'penny Bridge. There was no sign of Dickser. Me ma looked very anxious. ‘We'll wait,' she said, chewin her lip. She looked up an down an said, ‘He'll come, he has te come!'

We waited. ‘He's not here, Martha. He's gone. Oh, sweet Jaysus, he's gone, an he's taken all me money! The whole six pounds I was puttin by fer months. I gave it te him te mind fer me. We've nothin, it's all gone! What'll I do? Wha can I do now?'

I said nothin, nothin at all. Me ma's pain went inta me belly, an me chest was very tight. It was lovely te be happy, but it didn't last. Me ma looks lost, an I'm afraid.

We go up te St Kevin's Hospital in James's Street. It used te be called the Union. The porter lets us in te the waitin room. We're hopin te get a bed fer the night. We wait a long time, but nobody comes te talk te us. Me ma gets restless, an I'm tired. The wooden bench is too hard te sleep on. She goes off te find out wha's happenin, an I mind the suitcase. When she gets back, we have te leave, cos it's too late fer a bed.

She drags the suitcase down past the Guinness Brewery, an I can smell the hops. ‘What'll we do?' she mutters te herself. ‘We've nowhere te go.'

We pass Frawley's in Thomas Street, an a cat leaps outa an alleyway. It's covered in rotten vegebales. It screeches an runs fer its life, knockin over the dustbin lid. It's bein chased by a skinny dog tryin te protect its territory. There isn't a sinner about, an all the shops are locked up wit the big grids pulled down te protect the windas an stop people breakin the glass an robbin the stuff. We turn down inta Francis Street an very slowly cross the road, the only noise made by our footsteps an me ma trailin the suitcase along the cobblestones on the road. I'm too tired te walk any further. An me ma is miles ahead of me. We pass the Iveagh Market, an I stop te look up at the buildin. Me granny used te sell here. But I never knew her.

As I turn te move on, I'm suddenly lifted outa my body, an I'm wit me granny. We're like air, the two of us! She wraps me up inside her shawl, an we don't speak. I can see she has lovely blue eyes an long brown hair. I feel her holdin me tightly. She whispers in me ear, ‘Shush, child. I'll always be mindin ye,' an then it was over. I looked all aroun me, but there was no one there. I thought maybe I'd fallen asleep, but I was still standin in the same spot at the Iveagh Market, an me ma was passin the St Myra's an Nicholas Church. I moved on, still feelin the warmth of me granny's arms. We went inta Cork Street an sat behind the door in the hallway of a tenement house. There was a fight goin on in one of the rooms upstairs. A man was shoutin, an I could hear the woman cryin, tellin him not te wake the childre. We could hear him beatin her up, an furniture an dishes gettin smashed, an the childre were screamin. Me ma jumped up an said, ‘Come on, we'd be better off on the streets than listenin te this.'

I wanted te lie down on the bench we passed in Camden Street, but me ma said, ‘No, we'd be arrested fer bein on the streets this time of night.' We fell down exhausted under the stairs in the hallway of another old tenement house.

We went over te Brunswick Street te stay at the Regina Ceoli hostel fer women, run by the Legion of Mary. But we were too early, the hostel doesn't open until evenin. We had hours te kill, but we just sat on the steps, too exhausted te move. The men's hostel is just next door. Tha's called the Morning Star. By five o'clock we were stiff an cold. We hadn't had any tea or bread since yesterday. But I was beyond carin an just wanted te lie down in a warm bed. We hadn't said a word fer hours until a man came over te me ma an asked fer a match te light his cigarette butt. Me ma said, no, she doesn't smoke.

‘It's a long aul wait,' he said, ‘but it shouldn't be too long now till they open.'

Me ma said nothin, an he wandered off te talk te other men who were arrivin an congregatin aroun the men's part, smokin, an coughin, an spittin, an laughin, an throwin the eye at me ma. She pretended she didn't see them.

When we finally got in, we had te go te the office te talk te the sister in charge. Tha's wha they call themselves! The woman was fat an had a tight perm tha looked like a roll of steel wool on her head. She had little glasses on her nose an asked me ma loads a questions. Me ma gave her a wrong name an said she was just back from England an was lookin fer somewhere te stay. Me ma said she had te come home cos England wasn't a Catholic country, an she was glad te be back among her own. The woman seemed satisfied an then looked at me. ‘How old are you?' she snapped.

‘Four, Mrs,' I said.

‘Sister! You call me Sister.'

‘Yes, Sister Mrs,' I said, confused, cos she looked like a woman te me.

‘Do you wet the bed?' she asked me.

‘No!' I said, terrified, cos I do.

She picked up a big walkin stick, an she said, ‘If you wet the bed, I'll break this on your back. Do you hear me?'

I didn't answer, an me ma said nothin either.

We slept in a very big room wit lots of other women all sleepin in single iron beds. I slept wit me ma, an there was one other child in the room. He slept in a cot, cos he was only two years old. His mammy didn't sleep there, she slept somewhere else. I don't know where. But every mornin he wakes up cryin, an his ma comes clatterin in on her high heels. An he's standin up in the cot, holdin on te the bars an roarin his head off. His ma gets very annoyed when she sees the child has shit himself an the blankets are destroyed. So she wipes his arse wit the blanket an dresses him. Then she yanks him outa the cot an onta the floor. Then she says te her other two little girls, who are about five an six years old, ‘Right! Take him an get him outa me sight.' An the little child goes off wit his sisters, one holdin each hand. An the little babby laughs happily, then the mammy marches off about her own business.

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