Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (6 page)

We have two rooms in our new flat an a separate scullery an bathroom an tilet. We share a landin wit another flat, an an old woman lives in there on her own. Our flat looks a bit bare. We put the wardrobe an bed in the bedroom, an the table an one chair in the sittin room along wit the chest a drawers. We put the chair by the fire, but we don't light the fire. So me ma sits there until it gets dark an just stares over at the winda, which looks over onta another row of flats. We have gas fer cookin on, but we can't, cos we don't have a cooker.

A man from the St Vincent de Paul brought us a cooker. An he gave me a shillin. Me ma told me te go down te the shop on the corner an buy a bottle of milk. So I ran down an left the man talkin te me ma. When I came back, I went te the wrong flat an opened the door. The people were strangers, an I didn't know where I was. They explained it must be in the next block, but I was worried, cos they all looked the same te me, an it was gettin dark now. So I rushed inta the next block an hurried up the stairs, but I was afraid te turn the handle of the door in case I was in the wrong room again. So I opened the door quietly an saw two people lyin on the floor. I got a shock an ran back down the stairs an onta the street. I was beginnin te cry an felt the fear risin up in me chest, cos I was lost an I'd never find me mammy again. So I went back te the room where the two people were lyin on the floor te ask them where me mammy was. I was sure we were livin there, so I couldn't understand it. I knocked on the door, but they didn't answer. So I opened the door an put me head in. They both saw me an jumped up laughin, an then I saw it was me mammy. They told me te go out an play, but I said it was pitch black out. The man was annoyed, an me ma chewed her lip an looked anxious, an then he left in a hurry. The room seemed empty, cos earlier we had been happy.

We have te put a shillin in the gas meter if we want te use the cooker. Tha's a lot of money, so me ma spares the gas an only uses it te boil the milk fer the babby's bottle or make a drop a tea. We don't turn on the light, cos tha costs money, too, so we go te bed when it gets dark.

I look after the babby now an give him his bottle. Me ma doesn't give me anythin te eat these days, so I share the babby's bottle wit him. I take a coupla sucks fer meself an give him a coupla sucks. He used te scream an buck himself in me lap, sometimes nearly fallin off. But now he just sits quietly lookin up at me while I have me turn.

Me ma went in te visit the old woman on our landin. She invited us in. Me ma sat aroun the roarin red fire an talked an listened te the old woman, whose name is Mrs Enright. I stood watchin the flames lickin up the chimney an enjoyin the heat. She had lovely old pictures on the walls of her childre, all grown up now an gone te the four corners of the earth, she said. Her husband, God rest him, was gone te his reward. He'd worked fer Guinness an drove the horses pullin the barges up an down the canal. She had nine childre livin an lost four young. She turned te me ma an said Charlie, our babby, was not thrivin. Me ma ought te be givin him solid food offa the table. She said the ma should start him on rusks mashed in boiled milk. Me ma told her she can't get out te get the bit of shoppin, tha the shops were too far down in Thomas Street. An Mrs Enright said me ma could give me the bag wit a note an put me on the bus next te the conductor an tell me where te get off in Thomas Street. It was only two stops down, an I was six years old, an I'd manage. I listened carefully an began te work out in me own mind the problems I might come up against an how I would work them out. But me ma wasn't interested.

Me ma didn't bother te send me back te school after me Communion. I wasn't there long anyway. There's nothin much te do, cos me ma just sits starin inta nothin. If I try te say somethin, then she'll notice I'm there an start askin me te look fer lice in her hair. So I just take the babby out onta the street in his go-car. There's nobody aroun, cos all the childre are in school. So we sit outside the shop on the corner an watch the people goin in an out.

The babby's cryin in me ear, an rockin him up an down doesn't do much good. So I stick me finger in his mouth, an after a few sucks he gets inta a rage an bites me, cos it's not his bottle. It hurt me, so I roared at him, ‘Ye're bold.' An he went red in his face an got inta an even worser rage. A woman comin outa the shop ate the head off me an looked at the babby an said he was starvin. ‘Get him up an take him home an feed him,' she said. I brought him home an asked me ma te boil him a bottle, but she said we'd no shillin fer the gas. The babby was hysterical now, so I looked aroun fer somethin te appease him. I dipped a bit a bread in water an gave it te him an put him in the cot the St Vincents man gave us. He smelled terrible, an when I looked, his rompers was covered in shit. I told me ma, an she said, ‘Ah, just leave me alone an clean it up.' An she went on chewin her lip an starin an runnin her fingers through her hair, lookin fer lice.

I went back te the cot an pulled the bars down. I tried te hold him while I got the rompers off, but he kicked an bucked, an the shit was flyin everywhere. I was destroyed, I needn't tell ye. I wiped the biggest bits offa his arse wit the rompers an got his vest off. I put him on the floor naked, an he sat lookin up at me an then lookin at himself, an I was glad of the peace te get on an clean the blankets. I'd nothin te wipe them wit, so I used his vest an looked aroun fer somethin else. The best I could find was an aul pair of me ma's knickers. They did grand. So when I had the cot cleaned, I tried te put the babby back in, but he was ragin an wouldn't let me lift him. I was in an awful sweat by the time I got him back in the cot.

There was nothin te put on him. So I found an old frock belongin te me, an I put tha on him. It was miles too short fer me an miles too big fer him. He kept losin his arms an tryin te strangle himself. So I took it off him an took off me jumper tha I hadn't had off fer months. It was too small fer me an was so hard an tight I was cryin from the strain of tryin te get outa it. At last it was off, an I put it on the babby. It nearly fitted him, an he sat there lookin at himself. I felt very draughty now, cos I had no knickers an no vest or socks – only the frock tha was too short fer me, an it was very light an torn under the arm. Ye could see I was naked, but there was nothin else I could wear.

The other childre won't play wit me. They laugh an call me names, cos me frock was torn an I had no knickers. But now they run when they see me, cos me head is covered in sores, an me ma had te cut off all me hair. The lice are crawlin aroun me head, an it's very itchy, so I scratch it. An it bleeds an gets huge scabs, an now pus is oozin from the sores, an I look terrible. So the childre stand a mile away from me, cos their mammies said they'll catch it. An they call me terrible names, ‘Scabby Head', ‘Pauper', ‘Baldy Head', an loads of other names. An they say me ma is a whore. Tha's very insultin te call me ma tha. It means she's no good, an tha makes me want te cry. But I pretend I'm not bothered, an I think up names te call them. But I have te fight the whole gang on me own. An I'm ashamed I'm not like them. I'd love te play piggybeds an swing on the lamp posts wit a rope, an play chasin an have me friends. But I'm not like them, an they don't want te have anythin te do wit me.

We didn't stay long in this flat. Me ma has a friend who lives in the Benburb Street flats, an she wants te move inta our flat an we move inta hers. It's down on the quays, next te Arbour Hill Army Barracks. It's a big aul Victorian row of about ten blocks of flats, an it's about eight storeys high. We have one room, an we share the landin wit about eight other families.

I went down on te the street te play. There are lots a shops aroun, an the road in front is very busy wit traffic. There's lots a cars an delivery vans an horses an carts flyin up an down. I'm not used te it yet, an it's taken me a long time te cross the road. I want te get over te the sweet shop an meet all the childre millin aroun outside.

Other childre are crossin the road now. Some are smaller than me, an they step out as soon as there's a little break in the traffic an dash inta the middle of the road, makin the cars swerve an brake an blow their horns. I do the same thing, an a car swerves at me. I dash back towards the footpath, right under the wheels of another car comin in the opposite direction. I can smell burnin rubber, an big puffs of smoke come outa the tyres when the man brakes an nearly swerves inta the other car.

I decide te go up an see wha's happenin in the shoe-repair shop. The man wears a leather apron, an he has a hammer, an nails stickin outa his mouth. An he has a shoe stuck onta an iron bar wit a big lip on it. An he's bangin the nails inta the shoe. There's a smell of glue comin outa the shop. At first I thought it was nice, but now it's beginnin te give me a headache. So I move off towards me own block.

I'm standin there an a big fight starts out between about six dogs in the next block. Then I see an old man comin past me. He's wearin a hugh boot, cos one of his legs is much shorter than the other one. An he swings along, throwin out the big boot in front of him, cos it's very heavy te lift. Suddenly the dogs jump on him an knock him over. They all start te savage him, an there's blood beginnin te pour from his head an face. He can't do much te save himself, an he tries te cover his head. I see the weakness in his face, an he seems te let go an stop strugglin. An I watch quietly, but I'm screamin inside meself, cos the dogs are killin him, an I don't know wha te do. I start te run up an down, lookin fer someone te help, but nobody sees wha's happenin. A winda opens up in a flat, an a woman shouts down at the dogs. An then suddenly people appear outa the flats an start te beat the dogs off. But the dogs won't let go, an it seems a long time before they drag the dogs away. The man lay white as a sheet, covered in blood, an his eyes kept flutterin open an shut. The people chased away us childre, an the man waited a long time on the ground wit a coat thrown over him before the ambulance arrived te take him away.

Me ma doesn't stay in the flat any more. She goes off fer the day, an I stay in te mind the babby. I can't bring him out, cos he has no go-car. It's broken an gone. An I can't get him down the stone stairs, cos we're far too far up in the top floor, an he's not walkin yet. So even if I managed te carry him down, wha would I do wit him? So we lie on the bed. He cries an cries, cos he's hungry an there's no bottle te give him an not even a bit a bread we could eat. There's nothin! Not even in the bins – I looked.

It's night time now, an she's still not back. As long as I keep me fingers in his mouth, he'll suck it an be quiet. We have a bit a comfort, lyin wit our heads together, lookin inta each other's faces an watchin him suck me finger. He'll only cry now if I take me finger back.

The sun was shinin outside, an I could hear all the childre playin on the street. Me ma was all excited. She was goin out. She had herself all done up. She said she had te meet a man. She asked me te go te bed early wit the babby, but I said no! It was the middle of the day, an I wanted te go out an play. So she went across the road te the shop an bought me a little ball fer sixpence. Now I could play handball against the wall when I got out te play. This was me own, an now I could get childre te play wit me. I could play this game, but ye need two balls fer this. Maybe we'd share. I could get a young one who has a ball. It goes like this – ye throw the balls against the wall, an ye say, ‘My muther an yer muther were hangin out the clothes, my muther gev yer muther a bang on the nose, wha colour was the blood, R.E.D.', an if ye drop the ball ye're out.

There was a dog shiverin in a box outside one of the blocks. We went down te gerra look. There was an old woman sittin on a chair outside, an she was mindin the dog. It had no hair, an its skin was all red an bleedin. ‘Wha's wrong wit it, Missus?' we asked.

‘It has the mange! Now gerra way an don't be touchin it. Ye's'll catch it! I'm waitin fer the animal-cruelty man te come.'

Suddenly there was a roar from the end of the street, an a load a cattle came stampedin down. ‘Hold er! Ho there! Easy now!' An we could see young fellas wit sticks runnin in an outa the cattle, scatterin them everywhere. The drover was screamin up behind them wit his arms held wide an a big stick in his hand, wellington boots covered in green shit, an an aul coat tied wit string. His hat blew offa his head, an he didn't stop te pick it up. More young fellas came roarin outa the flats te give the drover a hand. ‘Feck ye's all, ye's little feckers. Ye's are losin me, me animals.'

‘I'm not, Mister! I'm helpin ye!' one young fella said. ‘Lookit, them young fellas are robbin a cow. They whooshed it up the alley, an they'll sell it te Mickey the Butchers.'

‘Where are they? Bring it back fer me, son, an I'll see ye right!'

‘OK, Mister! Wha's it worth? Half a crown?'

‘No!'

‘Ten bob, Mister.'

‘Five bob an get a fuckin move on.'

An he was off te tell his pals they were in the money. An then the aul one grabbed up her chair an screamed, ‘Mind the dog!' An she ran inta the hall, sayin, ‘We'll be all kilt! Is a body te get no rest?'

We grabbed the box an tumbled the dog inta the hall, outa the way of a mad cow tha was rushin towards us. We could see the white of its eyes an the steam pourin up from it an the shit caked on its back – it was huge! The dogs came from everywhere, an they went bananas, bitin the legs of the cows. An the mad cow changed direction at the last minute an decided he wasn't comin inta the hall. He skidded an slipped, an the drover whacked him on the arse an whacked out at the dogs an looked at us te see if we should be whacked as well.

The cars were all chopper blocked. An we ran out an jumped on the back of a horse an cart, an the horse was rearin an snortin wit all the cars blowin their horns an the cows an childre an dogs flyin everywhere. An the man wit the horse lost his rag an turned aroun an lashed at us wit his whip. A black dog ran under the legs of the horse, an a young fella said, ‘Go on, Nero! Get them!' an the horse reared up from the fright of the dog. The man jumped down te quieten the horse, but the horse was foamin at the mouth, an the man was in an awful state. An the woman from the shop came out te see wha was happenin, an she still had her fork in her hand, cos she musta been eatin her dinner. An the men came over from the flats te help steady the horse an said it was a terrible conster de nation altogether. An I thought it was like the cowboy fillums! Only they left plenty a shit behind them – even the horse was shittin wit fright.