Ma, Jackser's Dyin Alone

by Martha Long

  I could feel myself humming with pleasure as I wandered down along the old corridors. Bloody hell! The state of this old hospital! They haven’t even bothered to throw a can of paint over the place since I was last here. When was that? Must be at least … Jesus! Who knows? I’m too old to remember things like that.

  I poked me head in doors, seeing poor aul fellas look up hopefully, then let their face drop back in misery after seeing I was nobody they recognised. No, I wasn’t coming to them with a few grapes and a bit of gossip. Thinking of grapes! Forget it, Jackser. I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, I snorted to meself. Aul fucker, eating all and any grub that ever came into the house, leaving us nothing but our imagination. Yeah! The only thing he left us with was to wonder what it tasted like. Bleedin starved, we were. The stray dogs and cats rummaging in the dustbins got luckier than us. They were faster; they got there first.

  I gasped me way up the stone stairs, clinging to the metal handrail. Jaysus! I better stop for a breath, there’s no more fun in this! I must have tramped down every corridor, every ward, and still not a sign of the bandy aul bastard.

  I dug me hand into my pocket and came up with the roll-up tobacco. I stared at it. Forget that. Wait till me breath comes back. Right! Keep going. I landed on the top floor then staggered along the passage, making for the first ward. No! ‘Not a sign,’ I moaned, feeling a terrible thought coming into my head. He better not be gone home! The least I can expect now is to be hearing I can dance on his grave. Or better still, hear he’s on his last gasp! Oh, yes, that at the very least. My expectations have been raised too high for anything else. I’ll up-end the place if they have sent him home. Oh, no, Jackser, nothing less now will do me than to see you planted. God knows I have waited long enough – a whole lifetime nearly.

  What age was I when the ma met him? Yeah! Charlie was only a year old. She carried him in her arms. I was six years old, the year I made my first Holy Communion, the last time I ever knew anything remotely normal. Well, nearly normal. If you can call tramping the streets day and night, looking for somewhere to put our heads down for a weary night’s rest, normal. Or listening to the ma talking to herself while I tried to figure out the thinking. What were we going to do for a bit of grub and such mundane but very important little things like that ticked away, teasing my brain.

  Jesus, the ma was like a breeding machine for that bandy aul bastard, and all with the idea of getting a few extra quid on the Labour. I don’t know why they called it that. The only labouring he ever did was count the money I brought back after me day’s robbing, the bandy aul toe rag!

  I walked on, beginning to lose heart. Only two wards left; he must have been discharged.

  Jesus! Talk about losing the run of yourself, Martha. You should have known it was too good to be true. That aul fella is like Rasputin! The mad monk in Russia. They poisoned him, shot him full of bullets, tried to drown him, and they still couldn’t kill him! Yeah! We even had a go at that ourselves when we first went to live with Jackser. Me ma tried to put poison in his tea! Well, that’s what she said it was. But being thick, the ma dropped the bottle and smashed it before Jackser could even get a sniff of it! I think even Charlie had a go. Yeah, when he was six years old. The time we ran off and left Jackser to fend for himself. But the poor kids got left behind too. Jesus! Charlie told me he sneaked in to Jackser when he was clapped out blind drunk in the bed – plastered with the drink, he was. Charlie came creeping in with the bread knife but then lost his nerve and flew for his life when Jackser farted and turned over in the bed! Yes, Jackser, you were the spawn of the devil – pure evil. Right! Keep going, Martha. You never know your luck.

  I turned into the second last ward and came face to face with the devil himself! Well, well! Would you credit that? Here’s the bandy little bastard, large as life and ugly as sin. I’ve found him at last. My heart gave a lurch and me eyes lit up with the sudden delight in me. I stared, seeing him sitting propped up, with about five pillows keeping him straight. His eyes were slowly flickering open and shut, with his face draped sideways on the pillow, and he was moaning something. I listened.

  ‘Oh, holy Jesus, this is terrible. Oh, mother a God, I’m dyin. Oh, sweet divine Jaysus! Someone get me outa here before I’m dead.’

  I coughed and his head turned slightly, then his face dropped at the sudden sight of me.

  ‘Who fuckin brought you here? What’s yure game? Gerout! Fuck off! Before I lift ye out of it,’ he snorted, with the head shaking slowly and the muddy brown eyes boring holes in me.

  I winked with a grin on me face, saying, ‘How’re ye, Jackser? Heard ye were on yer last legs!’

  He started breathing heavily, like he was pumping himself up to lift outa the bed and annihilate me. But there’s not much wind left in him and he’s shrunk now he’s just all skin and bone in a wizened old man’s body. I just stared at him, keeping the laugh in my eyes. He stared back, curling up his lip, then turned his eyes away, resting his face on the other side of the pillow where he couldn’t see me.

  ‘That’s a nice welcome,’ I said happily, moving over and standing about six feet away, taking him in.

  ‘Who the fuck let you in? If ye’ve come here te get a rise outa me,’ he muttered, ‘then YOU can go an fuck off outa tha!’ he snarled, raising his voice in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Ah, now don’t be like that, Jackser. Didn’t I just come all this way specially to see you?’ I said, grinning at him, thinking he knows I’m not here for the good of his health.

  ‘Well! Ye see me now, so ye can fuck off wit yerself!’ he gasped, letting out a fit of coughing.

  ‘What’s wrong with you anyway, Jackser? How did you end up here?’ I said, whipping me head around to take in all the other poor aul unfortunates who were sitting up now, taking everything in. My eyes landed on one little aul fella lying plastered in the bed.

  ‘How are you? Are you getting any better?’ I said, leaning over to him.

  ‘Who, me?’ he said, pointing a finger at himself, looking shocked at the idea someone had noticed him hidden over in a corner. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he shot up in the bed, giving the pillows a whack with his fist, then he mooched himself and tore down the bedclothes, getting rid of them. I watched as he stretched his bare skinny legs with the pyjamas pulled up.

  ‘Jesus! This heat would kill ye!’ he complained, looking around to see how he could better comfort himself. ‘I’m tellin ye, Missus! I’m meltin alive in this bed,’ he puffed, looking at me and fanning himself with the sides of his pyjama top. ‘I’m not at all satisfied wit this bed neither, it’s like a block a cement,’ he moaned, creasing his face and wriggling his skinny little body, trying to shape himself into the mattress. Then he curled his toes and swung his arms, trying to get a bit of life back into his bony, wasted frame.

  I tried not to laugh, seeing him wriggling around the bed like a worm running for its life. ‘Are you more comfortable now?’ I said, seeing him settled back now against the pillows, with his hands folded across his belly, studying me.

  ‘Listen!’ he suddenly said, pointing his finger over at the big window. ‘Would you ever run out an ask one a them nurses te come in here quick an open tha winda before we all die here a the suffocation.’

  I looked up at the window, seeing it was shut tight. ‘Yeah! You’re right. You could do with a bit of fresh air in here. The place is steaming,’ I said, flapping the hands over me hot dry face. ‘Is there a pole somewhere? Maybe I could open it myself,’ I said, looking around the ward, seeing nothing.

  ‘No! Do nothing. Tha sister will only ate the head offa ye!’

  ‘Oh, yeah, OK then. I don’t want to cause any trouble,’ I said, making for the door.

  ‘Oh! Just before ye go, would you ever take this jug wit ye and ask them te give ye a drop a fresh water? I’m parched wit the thirst here but I’ll be hanged if I’m goin te be caught drinkin this hot water. Here! Take it. It tastes like cat’s piss,’ he snorted, grabbing up the jug o
f water and landing it in me hand.

  ‘Yeah! No problem,’ I said, making for the door again.

  ‘Oh! One more thing! Would ye ever just stoop down there an get me slippers an dressin gown outa tha aul locker?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, making back for the locker.

  ‘Oh, Jesus help me! Oh, Missus!’ a voice croaked at me from the next bed.

  I lifted my head outa the locker, looking over at a grey-faced, tiny old man. He was looking up at me with his mouth open and his hand held out. It looked like a skeleton, with a mass of blue veins running through it. He was trying to reach out to me.

  ‘What’s wrong? Do you need something? Are you all right?’ I said, forgetting about the locker as I leant into the old man lying prostrate in the bed. He looked like he was dying.

  ‘I need the bedpan. Me insides feel like they’re coming apart!’ he gasped, letting his face twist in an agony of pain. Then there was an unmerciful splutter and suddenly the air turned blue with the smell.

  ‘Ahh, fuck! He’s done it again!’ roared the aul fella beside me. ‘Ahh, holy Jaysus! Tha’s cruel, tha is!’

  ‘What! Did his bowels let loose?’ I said, looking at him with his head hanging outa the side of the bed and his hand on his belly, with the tongue stretched out. ‘Mind you don’t fall out,’ I said, grabbing hold of him looking like he was going to get sick.

  ‘Let go a me!’ he grunted, sticking his head further under the bed, trying to escape the smell. Then another moan came from somewhere else.

  ‘Is tha you, Leila? Come over! Don’t be wastin time. Get me the aul glasses. Where are they? I can’t see ye right!’ groaned an old man from the other corner.

  I looked over, seeing him squinting at me, looking very confused. ‘What? Are you all right?’ I said, making to go over to him now.

  ‘Here! Don’t mind him. He’s not all there! Would you ever do us a good turn an get tha nurse te come in here pronto and clean up tha dirty aul git’s bed,’ the little worm demanded, looking at me like I was his paid maid.

  ‘Yeah, OK, I’m on my way. I’ll just run and get the nurse,’ I said, gritting me teeth and making for the door, thinking it’s a pity it’s not him lying in that poor man’s shit. Jaysus, life can be very cruel when you get old.

  ‘Wha the fuck! Are you still here?’ snorted Jackser, coming out of his doze as I shot past him. ‘Go on! Fuck off back te where ye came from!’ he screamed, lengthening his nose and throwing it towards the door.

  ‘Don’t you start!’ I muttered, making it out the door without strangling him or the other aul grumpy fucker!

  I made my way back down to the ward after having a smoke to calm me nerves. I was just in time to see the nurses making their way out with the wash trolley.

  ‘Can I go back in now, Nurse?’

  ‘Oh, in you go. Joe is squeaky clean again.’

  ‘Ah, the poor man, he looks like he’s in terrible pain,’ I said, looking at them, then throwing me eye over at the little man. He seemed a bit easier in himself now, resting with his eyes closed. But he was white as a sheet, though.

  ‘Ah, the poor creature has Crohn’s disease,’ the red-headed nurse said, studying him, then landing her eyes on me. I could see a look of terribly pity on her face for him.

  My heart suddenly ached for the poor man. ‘Ah, God love him,’ I said, thinking old age is bad enough, but then when you have to suffer that with all the other ailments that come with it … Jaysus! I wouldn’t wish that on me worst enemy, I thought, seeing the other weasel in the bed lying propped up on his pillows, looking the picture of comfort.

  ‘That fella there is a bit of a bully,’ I moaned, whispering to the nurse and throwing me eye in his direction.

  ‘Who, Dickie? Ah, don’t mind him. His bark’s worse than his bite,’ they said, looking over at him and giving him a big wave. ‘Are you all right now, Dickie?’

  ‘Wha?! Tha’s a stupid question, Nurse, te be askin a man in my condition. Sure, if I was all right, wha would I be doin here, may I ask ye?’ he barked, snorting and sniffing at them, then looking away and back, waiting to hear what they had to say about that.

  ‘Oh, go on now, Dickie, ye chancer! Sure, with all that fight in you, aren’t you healthier than ourselves?’ they laughed, then rushed off with the trolley before he started again.

  He stared after them leppin out the door while he was getting ready to let rip. By the time he got enough wind up, they were gone. So he turned the eye on me. I gave him a big smile. ‘Are you all better now, Dickie?’ I made the mistake of saying.

  ‘Wha?!’ he barked, letting his eyeballs bulge with the mouth hang open. ‘How could I be anythin but not all right?! Are ye stupid or wha? Can ye not see I’m not long for this world?’

  A hot rush of rage hit me at the sudden insult. ‘Ye bleedin cantankerous aul …’ Then I stopped. Don’t start him off or I’ll be kicked out. Right, change the subject fast. ‘Well, you’re not doing too bad for a man in his eighties,’ I said, lifting my face in a smile, hoping to cheer him up.

  ‘Wha?! Who told you tha? You’ve some bleedin neck, I can tell ye tha! I’m only 73!’ he screamed, going red in the face now, really losing the rag altogether.

  With that, before the pair of us could get another word out, there was an unmerciful roar from behind.

  ‘Will youse fuckin shut up outa tha! An stop talkin about me!’ Jackser suddenly screamed, stretching the veins in his neck, making his face go purple. ‘Or I’ll erupt outa this bed an I’ll bursts ye’s! I’ll put ye’s through tha winda for a shortcut!’ he snarled, snorting from me to Dickie, letting steam spray out through the ears and down his nose.

  Dickie got the fright of his life and suddenly found the walls very interesting, then he grabbed for the comfort of his blankets and wrapped them up under his neck. ‘It’s gone very chilly,’ he muttered, leaving his nose above the blankets.

  I looked over at Jackser and stared at him, keeping my face blank. He stared back with a flicker of the white-hot madness that once possessed him and made him what he was. I caught it as it flared, showing a demonic rage that once shook terror in me. Then it settled into a hard, icy-cold stare that would show you no mercy.

  I locked on to that stare, boring deep into him. Yes, I thought, shaking my head slowly, the face of a mad man. I watched it flare up and rage, the volcanic anger burning brightly, hidden behind that steely cold stare as it flashed in the old-man eyes. But then it died out and he let his head drop back wearily, closing his eyes muttering, ‘The curse a Jaysus on the lot a ye’s, an a curse a Jaysus on this place,’ he sighed, sounding like he was losing all hope of ever escaping back out that front door.

  I could feel myself breathing fast and a tightness was gripping me belly. Long-forgotten old terrors was rushing at me. I wanted to go over there and match his anger, stand over him and let him feel I had the power of God almighty. Bring him to his knees in terror, make him scream for mercy. He is now ideally placed for that. He is an old, helpless man, just like a small child, not able to protect himself. I just want him to feel a dose of what he gave me and all the other helpless kids. But especially me. I was his for the taking, the favoured one for the unleashing of his passion for evil terror. No! I will bide my time. I have waited too long to make it easy for him. Slowly, slowly will do it – the Chinese torture. One drip at a time to drive him mad.

  I took in a deep breath and looked around at Dickie, seeing he was watching very intently.

  ‘I don’t think that man likes you,’ he said slowly, shaking his head at me and throwing the eye over at Jackser.

  ‘Ah, no, Dickie,’ I laughed. ‘Sure, he’s delighted to see me, aren’t you, Jackser?’ I shouted over at him, trying to doze in the bed.

  His eyes shot open and he snorted then gave a little whimper in frustration, muttering, ‘Ye fuckin whore’s melt!’ then turned his face to the wall.

  ‘Nah, that’s just his way, Dickie! Sure, anyone with a heart would have to love me, Dickie! I mea
n, here I am on a mission of mercy, coming to see poor aul Jackser and talk to you! Who else would do it on a lovely day like today with the sun splitting the rocks? Now I ask ye, would you not agree with me?’ I said, rushing over to fix the blankets around his neck. ‘Now, anything else I can do for you while I’m here?’ I whispered, determined to get a laugh outa him.

  ‘Jaysus, not only do ye love yerself, but ye must think ye’re Mother Teresa of Calcutta wit yer carry on!’

  ‘Love meself? Now ye see! I was right! Someone loves me, even if it’s only meself!’ I said laughing, staring up into his face, seeing him shake his head and snort at me.

  ‘Jaysus, you’re a hard case, there’s no doubt about tha!’ he laughed, swiping out at me with his hand. Then we sat silent for a minute, just looking at each other, feeling companionable.

  ‘Listen,’ he suddenly said, looking around to see if anyone was listening then leaning into me. ‘See if ye can find where me aul smokes are. I hid them down inside tha locker there, an now I can’t get me hands on them. I think tha bloody aul doctor must have told them nurses te whip them. They have the cheek te tell me! At my age!’ he said, thumping his chest, not able to get over it. ‘I’m te be doin no more smokin! Me lungs are bet, they tell me. Sure! Wha else have I got at my age? I mean, wha’s left te enjoy?’ he moaned, looking crucified at all his loss.

  ‘Oh, you’re right there, Dickie,’ I snorted, agreeing with every word. ‘Put your foot down! You put your own nails in your coffin! Why should you die for nothing? Sure, you might as well go out with a bang! I’m the same. I’m coughing and puffing, spluttering and gasping me way into an early grave from the aul smokes! But, sure, as you say, what else is there? I’m not interested in man hunting, I don’t drink much, I hate shopping, so I’m easy to please. A scrooge would love to get his hands on me. Just think! Low maintenance for something like me. A Rolls-Royce that runs on fresh air! Yeah, definitely, my pleasures are all simple,’ I said, diving into his locker and flying all the stuff on his bed, looking for the smokes.