Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (87 page)

‘Come on!' the man said, noddin at me.

Me heart started te pound again, an I followed the crowd a people up the stairs out the door an onta the path. The Black Maria van was pullin up, an people were millin aroun.

‘I'll be off so,' Jackser said, wavin at me.

An me ma stopped te look, ‘Goodbye, Martha!' she said, tryin te smile.

‘Goodbye, Ma!' I said, tryin te get a good look inta her face, wantin te remember wha she looked like, cos I won't be seein her again.

A detective pushed me forward, an I tried te look back. But all I could see was the back of me ma wit her head down walkin te catch up wit Jackser. I turned aroun, an we stopped while the detective rushed te help two men tryin te wrestle wit an old woman in a black shawl, screamin an tryin te hold onta a little young fella who was holdin on te her fer dear life. He had his head buried in her stomach an his arms wrapped aroun her. An she was tryin te hide him in her shawl. ‘Please! Please, Sir! Don't take him away from me. He's only eight years old. I promise as God is in his Heaven I'll send him te school. He won't ever miss school again. I'll make sure a tha.'

The detective tried to loosen the woman's grip, an another policeman tried te pull the child, but they wouldn't let go. ‘Granny! Don't let them take me,' he screamed as the third man jumped in an wrenched the child's arm, sayin, ‘You have to let go!'

The granny lost her grip on the child, an he was hoisted off the ground, kickin an wavin his arms madly, tryin te get a hold of his granny. ‘Jesus! Jesus! No! I'm beggin youse, please give him one more chance. He's only a babby.'

‘Well! You should have sent him to school,' an aul fella wit a red face said, holdin her back.

‘Jimmy!' she screamed, wipin her snots wit the corner of her shawl as she watched him bein hauled in the Black Maria.

‘Come on! Up ye's get,' a detective roared, pushin us from behind.

A young fella of about ten or eleven stumbled in front of me, tryin te look back at his mammy screamin, ‘Emmet! Emmet! I'll get the money, an I'll come down te see ye!'

‘Ma! I want me ma!' roared Emmet.

‘Get up! Come on! Keep movin,' a detective roared at him, pushin him inta the van.

Mammies were standin on the footpath, screamin an wavin. An a young fella of about twelve tried te escape. He was behind me, an he suddenly pushed the detective, knockin him off balance, an jumped screamin, ‘Let me go! Ma! I won't rob any more.'

The red-faced man caught him an grabbed him by the neck an the leg. His mammy rushed at the red-faced man, screamin, ‘Take yer hands offa my son or I swear te God I'll be hanged fer ye!'

He pushed her back an grabbed hold a the doors, an looked aroun him, shoutin, ‘Is that the lot?'

‘Yeah!' shouted the policeman. ‘I've done the head count. We have seven! That's the lot!'

‘Thanks, Mick.' An the doors was slammed shut. The engine started up, an the noise of the mammies was quieter now.

‘They're goin! Oh, Jesus Christ, pray fer them,' I heard a woman cryin.

Young fellas were cryin in the van, an the little fella sittin across from me was sobbin his heart out. The policeman yawned an stretched himself out an asked the detective, ‘Where are we headin first?'

The other fella looked at him, about te answer, an then suddenly shouted, ‘Shut up! Stop that roarin!' An glared aroun at everyone. The cryin slowed down, an the childre sat givin big sobs, their heads an chests jerkin up an down wit the sobs comin out, an they were tryin te get a breath an quieten themselves. But it was hard, cos everyone was very afraid. ‘Well, we have three for Dublin, all in different directions, of course. Then there's a run to Daingean. Drop off two of them there. Then we have a long run ahead of us te Letterfrack.'

‘Jaysus! It will be next week before I see a bed,' the policeman complained. Then he pulled out a packet a cigarettes an offered the packet te the detective, who helped himself te one, an they lit up an sat back te enjoy their smoke.

I crossed me arms an lowered me head, closin me eyes. An I wondered how I was goin te get through the next four an a half years until I was sixteen.

Afterword

So there you have it. Martha's story in her own words. The voice of that child in my head no longer haunts me; I carry her within me with great pride. I've set her free. I salute her courage and marvel at her determination to survive. She made me laugh. She made me cry. She made me the adult I've become.