Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (43 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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I felt sick. The room was spinnin wit the shock I'm in. I won't be able te do it! I'll get caught an be sent away. Locked up till I'm sixteen. If I don't do it, God knows wha Jackser will do te the lot of us. I looked at me ma. She was happy. She's worse than a child, I thought. I wanted te scream at her. Tell her she's me mammy. She's supposed te be mindin us. But she's so fuckin lazy. I wish I had nothin te do wit her.

I set off at half-nine, headin fer Henry Street. I was shiverin an shakin. I looked at meself in a big plate-glass winda as I passed a big shop on Talbot Street. I was white as a sheet. I'll be spotted right away, cos I'm too poor lookin wit me black bare feet te be shoppin in the supermarket. These people know tha. I rushed on, across Nelson's Pillar an up Henry Street. I went down the alleyway an in through the side door te Woolworths. I need a shoppin bag. It was still early. Not too many people. The crowds wouldn't pick up until later. I moved aroun slowly, lookin fer the bags. Keepin an eye on the shop workers fillin the shelves. Then I spotted them. I lifted down a brown leather one wit a zip across. Ye wouldn't be able te see wha's inside it. I put me arm through the two straps an headed fer the door, slowly browsin me way out an actin as if the bag was me own te get the messages. No one spotted me. I was out.

I went quickly back up the alley an headed across the road te the supermarket. I wasn't used te these places an looked aroun te see how it operates. There's cash registers all in a line, an women sit at them. Ye can walk out the way ye came in, but people line up at the cash registers an pay fer their messages an come out through tha way. I headed off te find the butter. It was in a cold fridge. I opened the bag, pullin back the zip, an looked aroun te see if anyone was watchin. A woman was comin, holdin her shoppin basket under her arm an puttin messages inta it. I can't do anythin until she goes. I better get meself a shoppin basket, or I'll look suspicious.

I had me shoppin basket in me right arm an me shoppin bag open on me left arm. I put four pounds of butter in the basket an followed behind the shoppers. When no one was behind me, I lifted two pounds a butter an dropped them inta me bag until I had the four in. Then I went back an got another four an did the same thing again. But it takes time, an then I saw a shop assistant lookin at me. She was suspicious. I saw the way she looked at me bare feet. So I picked up a packet of cornflakes an put it in the basket an decided te move on. It's time te leave! I had the zip closed on me bag, hidin the eight pounds of butter, an moved aroun the shop, slowly bidin me time, makin sure no one was followin me. An then I saw me opportunity. A crowd of people started comin in, an I moved over quickly an pushed me way through them an out the door.

I walked on, shakin inside meself, the back of me rigid, waitin te be grabbed. Nothin happened. I was safe. I turned down Moore Street an walked on, headin fer a laneway. I went down te the end of the laneway an looked aroun. Under the wheels of tha car is the best place. I can hide it there, an then go back fer more. An when I've enough, I can head off te sell it.

I went back up te Henry Street but didn't go back te the same shop. I'll give it a rest, just in case. I headed inta another supermarket, an now it was gettin crowded. Tha was more difficult. Too many people watchin. I put eight pounds a butter in the basket this time an drew attention from the women shoppin. So I moved aroun wit the crowd, everyone headin in the same direction, an did nothin until I was sure tha suspicious woman wasn't watchin me. Then when I got stuck in a crowd of people, I didn't look down but held me hand on two pounds a butter an lifted it inta me bag, holdin it open wit me left arm. No one looked down, cos we were all squashed together, tryin te shuffle in the same direction. I left the eight pounds a butter wit the other lot, under the wheels of the car, an went back again te the same shop.

By the time I was finished, it was after two o'clock, an I had fortytwo pounds of butter. I headed fer the flats an knocked on doors, tellin people the same story about the St Vincents food voucher an buyin butter instead. By four o'clock, I had all the butter sold an made seven guineas. Tha's seven pounds an seven shillins. I went inta a shop on Talbot Street an changed the silver fer a huge five pound note an two single pound notes, an put them together – this was fer them. An I kept the silver – two half-crowns an the two shillin piece fer meself.

I headed back up te Henry Street an inta Woolworths, an got meself a purse te hold me money. An then I spotted a lovely red pair a sandals an put them in me bag. An then I saw a lovely pair a white socks. I put them in me bag, an just as I was about te leave, a man grabbed me an said, ‘Come with me!' I knew straight away he'd seen me, an I tried te escape, but he pulled me along. An I went hysterical.

He lifted me off the ground an tried te carry me in his arms. But I was so frightened, I kicked an bucked, an I was screamin fer me mammy te help me. A crowd a people gathered aroun us, an the women started shoutin at the man te let me go. He was very nervous but wouldn't let go of me waist. I was screamin an cryin, an doin me best te fight him. An the women went mad an started hittin him te let me go. An then he dropped me, an the women grabbed me an pushed me out the door. An blocked him, shoutin, ‘You've little te be doin pickin on a poor hungry child! Let her go! Whatever she has belongin te ye won't break ye!'

I flew out the door, me feet not touchin the ground, an kept runnin down alleyways an up back streets until I found meself at Jervis Street, outside the hospital. I slumped te the ground, covered in sweat. I was soakin, an me chest was heavin up an down wit the pain in it. An I was snow white. When I was a lot better, I opened me bag an tried on the sandals. They were a grand fit, only a tiny bit too big. I looked at them, red an brand new. But somehow they weren't worth it. An I felt as if things would never be the same. Everythin had changed, an I didn't like it. I stood up after puttin the shoes an socks back in me bag an moved off, headin back up te Henry Street, keepin away from Woolworths.

Jackser said I'm te bring back food, so I headed inta the first supermarket. The one I went inta early this mornin. An took a shoppin trolley on wheels. I filled it wit packets of expensive back rashers an pounds a sausages. An packets a eggs, an tea, an sugar. An boxes of cheese, an two pounds of butter. An cornflakes, an jam, an biscuits, an chocolates fer the childre, big bars! An when I had everythin, I waited me opportunity an slipped the trolley out the way ye come in an over te the counter at the back of the wall, an joined the other people all puttin their messages in their shoppin bags. I filled me bag te the brim an carried all the rest under me other arm.

The weight of the bag dragged me down sideways, nearly hittin the ground, twistin me head an back. It was too heavy. Just like the butter, all forty-two pounds of it! But I'd have te manage. I struggled out the door, tryin not te drop anythin, an headed down towards the pillar. I had te keep stoppin every few minutes fer a rest. Me arms was like lead, an me back an neck was burnin. I made it as far as Cafolla's an looked in. This is what I've always wanted te do. An in I went an sat down at a table. An fixed me shoppin on a chair beside me an ordered beans an chips an a fried egg. When it arrived, I looked at it. The egg was snow white, an ye could see the lovely yella soft yolk underneath the white. I lifted me knife an fork, an started te eat it.

‘Do ye want anythin else?' the waitress asked me.

‘Yeah! I'll have a plate a bread an a pot a tea.' The soft egg, mixed wit the chips an beans, slid down me neck. An a bite of white soft bread an a sip a hot tea, wit plenty a milk (me ma always spares the milk!) an two big spoons a sugar. (She saves the sugar fer Jackser!) Well ... well, this was heaven! I cleaned the plate wit the last bit a me bread, an supped the tea, drainin the pot, an then sat back, still feelin I could eat another plate. But it was very expensive! An I sat back te watch the Saturday shoppers all millin past the café, anxious te get their final messages fer the week an somethin fer the Sunday dinner. The peace tha came over me was like I'd died an gone te heaven. I was very still in meself an felt a light buzzin in me chest of happiness. Not a care in the world. Just a quiet feelin of bein still. It was all over, an I'm safe!

I paid five shillins outa the seven shillins I kept back fer meself, an saved the two shillins, hidin it in me new socks so Jackser or me ma wouldn't get their hands on it. An then started on me struggle again, turnin down fer Talbot Street. I would try te move fast an keep goin, but it was no good. I had te keep stoppin, just like I did wit the butter.

When I finally made it te the door, it was whipped open without me bangin. They were waitin an watchin fer me. ‘Holy Jaysus!' Jackser roared, delighted. ‘Man alive! Did ye bring back the fuckin shop wit ye?' An he started snufflin an jerkin his arm up an down, an lookin wit his eyes out on stalks.

Me ma came rushin over te the table as I landed the bag on the floor an dropped the stuff outa me stiff arm. I felt like concrete. I handed her the purse wit the seven pounds, an Jackser roared, ‘Fuck me blind! The young one's a topper!'

I helped me ma te unload the bag, an the childre all crowded aroun the table, screamin wit excitement. Charlie was hummin anxiously in case he was left out. I pulled out the bars a chocolate – an the screams, an the hands out, an pushin an shovin! ‘Me! Me!' tha's all I could hear as I gave them one each. Then they rushed off te sit in corners away from each other an take off the silver paper, watchin each other like hawks in case anyone robbed them. Me ma was all excited an laughin. An Jackser was shakin his head an sayin, ‘Tha's wha some workin men bring home in a week, after a hard day's graft!'

I collapsed on top of the bed, leanin meself against the wall, too drained te move a muscle. An just watched everyone. Te have everyone so happy was a great feelin. But I was very glad it was all over. I couldn't ever go through tha again.

‘Listen!' Jackser said te me, snufflin an jerkin his arm. ‘I've been thinkin! We're onta a good thing here.' I went rigid, lookin over at him, waitin te hear wha he was goin te say. ‘People get paid on a Friday, an tha's when they go te do their shoppin. So ye could do the two days, then we'd have the double amount of money an twice as much food. An we'd be on the pig's back, an we'd never worry again!'

So now, every week, twice a week, Friday an Saturday, I have te go out an rob the butter te bring back the money an the food te Jackser an me ma. When the shops get suspicious of me, I know they're watchin an just waitin te catch me. So I can't go back there fer a while. I have te find new shops. I'm all the time lookin an readin the paper te see if any new supermarkets are openin. I travel on the bus te Rathfarnham an walk from there te Churchtown. I go out te Ballyfermot, but tha's no good. Ye're watched like a hawk. I go anywhere te find butter. I went te Blackrock, but tha's a small place wit only one supermarket, an after one day, they'd notice ye, an I'd be caught. Sometimes I'm walkin fer miles. It might be cold an pourin rain, but I have te keep goin. Jackser expects me te bring home the money. An me life wouldn't be worth livin if I didn't. An me ma would go mad, too. She'd go off inta her own world, an it would be terrible te see her like tha, not botherin te even look at us.

Things go wrong, too! I might find a quiet laneway wit cars parked down them, an hide the butter under the wheels of a car only te come back an find the butter squashed when the car drives off! Or maybe someone found it, an now it's gone! An I have te start again. Sometimes me customers might only want one pound a butter instead of two or even three. An then I have te search fer new customers, all the time, draggin the heavy bag.

I bring back fourteen pounds a week. An eight te ten pounds' worth a messages. An toys fer the childre. But it's never enough! As soon as I get in the door, me ma wants te know if I got the new jumper she wanted. ‘I couldn't, Ma! They were watchin me.' An she turns away in disgust, not happy. Jackser takes the money an wants te know if I could go in on a Thursday as well, cos they need a few extra bob. ‘The shops are quiet, Jackser. An I wouldn't have the customers!' I plead.

‘Well, give it a fuckin try anyway!' he roars at me.

Me nerves are gone. I shake all the time. An me head never stops splittin me wit the pain. The only good day is Sunday, when it's all over. But then Monday comes, an I'm down on me knees prayin te God an his Holy Mother te grant tha I won't be caught. I feel sick all the time. An on Friday mornin on the way in te the shops, I have te stop te vomit me guts up. This hell I'm in never stops. It just goes on an on. I don't play wit the other childre now, cos I'm kept in te mind the childre an the room while Jackser an me ma goes off fer the day. He goes drinkin, an me ma just sits wit him.

He bought her a new coat, a red one wit a fur collar, an himself a Crombie coat, an a pair of jockey trousers, an a new pair of leather jockey boots te match. One way or the other, the money is gone by Wednesday. Or they might even spend it all in one day. Me ma complains she's fed up eatin rashers an eggs an sausages, an eatin mince stews. But she can't cook anythin else, an I don't know wha te bring her. She can't cook the sausages. She just gives them a look at the fryin pan an then throws them on the plate lookin snow white an completely raw. An she drops a half-dozen eggs on the fryin pan at the same time an mashes them aroun wit the knife, an then dumps them onta the plate full a black grease. An then says, ‘Call him fer his dinner!' So we are no better fed, cos he gets most of it.

29

Me ma had a new babby. It's a girl. Jackser called her Dinah, after his sister, he says. He keeps lookin at her, sayin, ‘Sally, she looks like a little saint te me! Ye know, I think she's goin te be a nun! She has tha look about her. I don't think she belongs te this world!' Then he gets tears in his eyes an crosses himself. I look at me ma in disgust, cos she keeps lookin at the babby an smilin an noddin, delighted wit herself. Happy cos her fuckin Jackser is happy! ‘We have a daughter,' Jackser crows at the babby.

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