by Martha Long
‘Jackser,’ I whispered, speaking very quietly. ‘Yet it is those same moments of peace and contentment just being there with you in those very early days that has imprinted itself in my soul. I would listen to the silence that wrapped itself around that convent and its enclosed grounds. It was then I could feel God very close, as you and me sat waiting. I would listen to you talking quietly, remembering down the days of your life. I enjoyed that – having someone who would talk and teach me things. In those moments, it was a long way from wandering the streets and listening to my mother muttering to herself as she carried little baby Charlie in her arms. She never talked to me or ever knew where to go or what she was doing. To me, you seemed to know exactly what we should do, and we had purpose. It gave me hope. I could almost have felt safe and even happy we found you. But they were only moments, Jackser. It came when you had purpose, when your mind was occupied, and for a short little while it gave you ease, for now you had peace from your demons. I feel like crying for your loss of so much, for the loss of the little girl who got only a glimpse of what it must be like to feel safe with someone who could protect her. Even if it was only a very fleeting hope lasting a very few seconds. You gave me something lovely, Jackser, I never got before.
‘But you loved the horses, Jackser. There was nothing you didn’t know about them. I remember now, Jackser, when we first moved in with you. You used to show us a photograph of you in a circus ring. There you are, Jackser, standing proudly between two great big black stallions gripped in your pair of outstretched fists. Your arms are held high in the air with an iron hold of a grip on the beasts as they prepare to prance out of the ring with one front leg each balanced high off the ground. They had big plumes on their heads. The plumes stood straight up between their ears and they looked magnificent. So did you, Jackser – a handsome man, strong, young and so proud you looked, Jackser. “Oh, yeah,” you would say quietly, getting a faraway look in your eyes, remembering back to a happier time. “I worked for Billy Smart. I worked for Chipperfields. I worked for all the circuses. Oh, yeah,” you would say, shaking your head sadly, “I worked for them all.”
‘But you know, Jackser. The ma wouldn’t let you work when you tried in those early days. She didn’t want you leaving her alone. She wanted you to stay and mind her at home, keep her company. It terrorised her that you might meet another woman. Every man and person she had ever been close to always went away and left her. So she couldn’t lose you. I know you desperately needed each other. You were both so dependent – one couldn’t turn their back on the other without all hell breaking loose. Neither of you had enough inside you to trust. But you knocked the stuffing outa her when you held her little babby over them banisters, threatening to kill him! Oh! On that awful day, Jackser! But then she knocked the stuffing outa you when you tried to work. So you fed off each other’s madness. Sometimes you took fits and had a go at sweeping the floor. ‘The dirt a this kip, Missus!’ you would snort, sending the brush flying one way, the dirt and shit from the kids doing it on the floor … Well, the shit would explode in another direction, and the ma would sit through it all. So any ideas about keeping the room clean? Well, you just gave up on that idea.
‘You did have your moments of softness, it came to me once. But first let me say this! You did send me off to school. No … I know it didn’t last, what … how long? A few days in one year, maybe even a couple of weeks in the next few years? But you were the one to send me. Thanks for that, Jackser. You showed me your kindness that day when I came back and you were all gone out. You, the ma, Charlie and your new little babby, Teddy, in his lovely big high pram. You picked that up second-hand. Anyway, I came back from the school, running. Your law was “Run! Don’t be there till ye’re back.” When I ran to the shops for messages, you timed me in your head! We didn’t have a clock. But this day, nobody was home. You were all gone out for the day, off to do the rounds of the convents.
‘I waited, praying I wouldn’t be kilt by you for doing something. What? Who knows? Maybe something I forgot. When you came back, I was expecting to be sent flying through the window for a shortcut. You could never tell with you, Jackser! But, no, not that day. You all had a great day out, landing on your feet with some kind nun feeding you the best grub you ever had for many a long day. She even gave the ma a ten-bob note! You went mad with the delight, buying yourselves a hot apple pie and sitting on a bench to enjoy it. It was then you told me you had said, “Ah, poor Martha is missing this. Pity she’s not here.” Then you put your hand into your pocket and whipped out a shilling. “Here,” you said. “Take this and go down and buy yerself a bag a chips!” Oh, thank you so much for that warm kind memory, Jackser! It was so lovely to see you all happy, me ma at ease, with her eyes alive and a smile on her face. Me little brother Charlie – he was tired but not afraid. Do you remember that, Jackser? I do! Oh, it pains me now this minute to feel the loss of that love. It came and it went so fast. I pined when it went. Oh, for such a long time. It still hurts me now, Jackser. You had that power in you, but I don’t think it ever came back.
‘Do you remember, Jackser, when you and me, we used to go down to the labour exchange and collect your unemployment money? It was on a Wednesday. Me ma used to send me with you. The idea was, “Don’t let him run off an drink tha bleedin labour money! Watch him, Martha! Don’t let him outa yer sight! We have no coal te make the tea an no tea te drink, or even milk. Or even bread for the dinner.”
‘“OK, right, Ma, don’t worry yerself! I’ll keep me eye well peeled on him!”
‘So off we would set. You taking me along for the company, knowing that would keep the ma happy.
‘When we got there, I would make to go in through the old brass front swing doors with you, then the big shovel hand would land on me chest, pushing me straight back out the same way I just came in, with you saying, “Ahhh! No! You can stay out there. Wait for me. I won’t be long. Ye can’t come in here. There’s no women an childre allowed!”
‘So I would wait and wait, watching the face of every man coming back out through them doors. You never came, Jackser! It left me with the worry of the ma killing me with her keenin Banshee cries because I let you scarper, and the terror of you ending me life because I scarpered. Home I lashed, heading for the ma to tell her the news, but then turned tail, hoppin back on the other foot to go in after you. No women an childre! Will I? Hunger and cold got the better a me. We need the money. Yeah! I went in after you.
No! He’s not in here, not a sign; the place is empty. Me head is spinning on me shoulders, trying to work it out. All I could see was just a long line of cages with weary-looking culchies sorting out their papers after the morning rush on the money. I leapt over to the one lone person who seemed to be giving me any notice. “Did ye see a man?” I gasped, still in a state a shock. “Eh, I’m lookin fer Jackser. He’s gone! But he came in an he never came back out!” I said, waving me arms at the fat policeman looking down at me. He was there to keep the order. He shook his head, sucked in his fat cheeks, then puffed them out, making his cheeks swell, and studied me. Then he lifted his arm and pointed to the back door. I flew so fast his cheeks wobbled, with the head spinnin after me. I looked up and down the laneway. Ah, Jaysus! Me heart sank. No! No sign of Jackser! He’s gone! Vanished, leaving nothing to be seen but a mangey black cat standing on top of the dustbin, trying to get the lid off.
‘But then one day we managed to make it outa the labour exchange with the two of us still together. We even had the money. Well, you did, Jackser. Out we came, turning left at the gates, heading up Gardiner Street. We were making straight for the lights to turn right down Talbot Street, then left onto Corporation Street. Into the cage, as it was called, and we were home and dry, safe with the money.
‘Well, we were hardly up the road when all hell broke loose. First we heard the screams. Then came the bangs, as a car hesitated, looking like it was stopping straight in the middle of the road between the traffic lights. But then the driver took of
f, steaming across the road, veering to the right, only stopping when he hit another car coming in the opposite direction. The next car stopped dead, getting itself hit from the car behind. Horns blew, people screamed. A man was lying on the corner of the road on the other side to us. He had been hit by the car that got crashed into. That car had slammed onto the footpath, sending the man flying through the air to land on the side of the road. The cars had all been trying to get out of the path of the runaway horse and cart that was tearing down from Gardiner Street, just ahead of us. We stopped dead, you and me, Jackser. You craned your neck, dropping from one leg to the other, letting your body go from left to right, readying yourself, looking to see what was going on.
‘I looked with my eyes rolling from one happening to the next, with me trying to take everything in at once. We saw the horse and cart – it was flying through the traffic lights without a driver. Bags of coal with coal and black dust covered the road behind it. The cart was swinging like mad from side to side, with the horse charging for all it was worth. You took it in, Jackser, all in a flash. We could hear the shouts: “STOP IT! STOP IT! FOR THE LOVE A GAWD, SOMEBODY STOP IT! IT’S KILLIN PEOPLE! STOP THA RUNAWAY HORSE!”
‘In the next blink I took, I was trying to clear me eyeballs. My mouth was open and me eyes were hanging out! I heard you mutter under your breath as your mind was snapping into action. “Fuck me!” you said slowly, with your eyes narrowing and your breath coming fast, then your eyes widened. Instantly, you sprang, as I saw you do so often. But now you were gone, faster than I ever knew a body could move.
‘Within the blink of an eye, you tore off your coat, sprang for the middle of the road, leapt from left to right, dancing from one leg to the other, watching as the runaway horse came thundering down the middle of the road, heading straight for you. You stood your ground, keeping your arms wide, held high in the air; your coat was swinging out of your right hand. You leapt from left to right, blocking the horse as the two of you made eye contact. The horse was wild with fear. We could see the whites of his eyes as they rolled in his head and the steam pouring out from his flared nostrils. As he got closer, he was now into a full gallop with nothing in his path but you. The cart was swinging from one side of the road to the other, threatening to overturn. I watched in slow motion as the horse turned his head to the left. You leapt left. The horse did not break speed; it turned its head to the right, wanting to get around you but still keeping up its speed. Then it thundered at you because you would not give ground. Then it was on you. You waited. Then, in a split second, when it was just a nose away, you flipped your right hand, grabbing the coat open, and dropped the coat over the head of the horse, blinding it.
‘Then you were running alongside it. You grabbed the mane and leapt, flying like a ballerina, hauling yourself through the air to land on the back of the horse. You grabbed the reins, shouting, “Whooa, whoooa! Easy, easy!” digging your heels under its belly and pulling the reins tight, bringing the horse’s head up, higher and higher, making the horse skid and the cart topple left then right. Then it was over. The horse stopped dead in the middle of the road. We could hear the snorting and see the steam pouring up from its back. Then you, Jackser, lifted your coat from the horse’s head, throwing it behind you into the coal dust, then leapt down, patting the horse, all the time speaking quietly while you looked around, making sure there was no sudden movement or noise to frighten the horse. Then you brought the horse safely to the side of the road.
‘I stood rooted; my eyes never blinked. I could hardly get a breath with the wonder of it all. How you had just done all that without one glance back; you were so intent on stopping that horse. People came running from all directions. Some stood and looked at you, then at the horse. Others came and patted the horse, lifting their hands to look and see the amount of sweat. Then they were slapping you, Jackser, on the back. People were taking it in turns to shake your hand. I couldn’t take it all in. My head flew down the road, taking in others now flying to help the man who was knocked down. I finally let go of my breath when me face turned red and my chest pumped out like a pair of billows. Then I was off, steaming across the road to push in and stand next to you. I watched as you took your jacket off the cart and shook it, then started banging it, letting the black coal dust fly.
‘You looked grim. Your jaws were tightened and your eyes were staring hard, like you were thinking. Then you went to rub your hand along the neck of the horse, lifting its head to examine it, all the time talking quietly to it. “Jaysus! Ye’re some man,” a fella said, shaking his head, then lighting up a cigarette and handing one to you, Jackser.
‘“Oh! Indeed he is, an not many a one like him! How many men could a done tha? Wha he just done now I ask ye? It’s the mercy a God he was here at all! He’s saved many a person wit wat he just done! Without a shadow of a doubt, there would a been more than one poor unfortunate lying dead be now than just tha poor unlucky man lyin up there on tha road! This man should be given a medal for bravery!” a woman said, pointing her finger at you, Jackser. “That’s all I can say!” she said, giving her shoulders a shake. Then she stood back, standing there staring at you, not able to get over the wonder of you, with everyone laughing and agreeing, nodding their heads. Others were shaking their head in astonishment. But the air was filled with relief and shock and excitement, with everyone having something to say and all wanting to tell each other with no one wanting to listen, because they all had their own stories of what they had just seen.
‘A little young fella mooched closer to me. “Is tha yer da?” he asked me, looking up at you, Jackser, like you were a film star, then back to me, like I was very lucky to have you.
‘“Yeah, he is,” I said, wanting to be part of you, not just with you. For in that moment, you were a hero to me. I was so proud of you, Jackser! Do you remember, Jackser, when we got home, I was shouting for the ma before we even got near the door? “Take it fuckin easy,” you said. “We don’t want the neighbours hearin all our business.”
‘I looked up at you then. You acted like nothing had happened. Inside my heart was flying. I wanted to tell anyone who would listen what a hero you were.
‘But I said nothing, not even when me ma came rushing to the door, whipping it open with the fear of God in her eyes. “Wha? Wha is it? Wha’s happened?” she said, throwing her head from you to me. She was snow-white with the knowing I wouldn’t shout like that when I was with you, Jackser. I said nothing. I looked up at your face first, wanting to see if it was all right to start talking.
‘“Wha is it? For fuck sake, will someone just tell me?” me ma shouted, looking at the two of us again.
‘“Ah, it’s just the young one goin on about nothin,” you said, slamming past me then taking off your coat. “Have ye got the kettle on, Sally?” you said, brushing back your sleek black hair, then standing up to look at yourself in the little mirror over the fireplace. I saw you rubbing a bit of dust off yourself, then you sat down and laughed at me. “Jaysus! The way you’re goin on, ye’d think I just climbed te the moon,” you said, shaking your head and turning away, looking to see if the kettle was boiled.
‘When me ma sat down an we all had a sup of tea, I told her, giving her the picture of exactly what happened. She said nothing, just kept blinking and staring and tut-tutting, shaking her head at the terrible bits about a man getting knocked down. All this time, she never took her eyes off me. Then, when I finished my story about you, Jackser, “Did he?” she roared, turning to you. “Jesus! Was tha not an awful dangerous thing fer you te have been doin?” she whispered, not able to get her breath.
‘“Ahhh! Will ye stop!” you said. “The lot a ye’s. Tha was nothin but a poor little mare tha somethin, or someone, somehow frightened the life outa the poor devil!” Then you shook your head in annoyance and looked away, saying, “If you have worked wit stallions, like I did in the circus … Jaysus! You can have them rearin up at ye! I’ve been cornered wit them, I’ve chased them! I’ve cornered th
em! Wit them big stallions rearin up at me wantin te escape. I’ve tamed them. I’ve trained them! Wha the fuck!” you laughed, turning away, snorting out your disgust, letting it show on your face the idea of what we thought was astonishing. Yes, standing in the middle of the road, facing head on a runaway horse tearing a cart behind it, mad with the fear and threatening all in its path!
‘Thank you for that memory, Jackser!’ I whispered, stroking his face gently.
15
The dawn chorus of the birds woke me. Fuck them, I have barely closed my eyes. I could feel the air around Jackser was heavy. It’s wet and humid. I leant forward and touched his chest. Jaysus! He really feels cold and sweaty. Then I checked his forehead. Yeah, it’s stone cold, but the sweat feels greasy and clammy.
I stared down at him, sighing, seeing his colour is worse now – it looks more like putty. Dear God. Oh, Jesus! Dying can be so hard.
The day passed slowly and the minutes turned to hours as the time crept on. I watched as the day gave way to the evening, taking with it the sun and the light. Soon it would bring on the agonising loneliness of the long dark night, then I will be alone with Jackser’s suffering and the torment of my own longing. I long to bring him peace and to quieten the child in me, crying for all she has lost. All I can do is to keep this watchful vigil over Jackser. He is the link that binds us all to the past. But it is bad for Jackser; the long lonely night is cruel. His suffering is relentless as he lies dying, struggling through the dead of night, making his way towards a long painful death.