Ma, Jackser's Dyin Alone

by Martha Long

  Then it hit me. She has nobody; there is nobody left. They’ve all gone! Where? It just has happened. The why or where does not matter. The thing is now she is all alone. I grabbed the key out of the ignition and shot open the door, banging it shut behind me, and started running, calling her with me heart sinking from the pity of her.

  ‘Ma! Ma, are you all right? I’m here. What happened to you? Where did you go? I was worried about you,’ I said gently, talking before I even got next to her.

  ‘Lookit! I had te go an buy a pair a stockings!’ she said, holding out the black stockings held between her two hands, with them closed over each other. ‘An a scarf,’ she said, putting her hand to her head.

  ‘Yeah, Ma,’ I said, staring into her as I made to take her arm. ‘We have to go and arrange to get Jackser buried.’

  ‘Wha?’ she burst out. ‘No, no! Go on outa tha. Leave him alone, he’s fine! There’s nothin wrong wit him, he’s in the hospital. No, no! Go on, go about yer business.’

  ‘But, Ma,’ I said, getting an awful shock at the state she was in, then seeing her pulling away from me and hurrying off, trying to escape. ‘Ma! What do you mean?’ I said, rushing to stand in front of her. ‘We have to arrange the funeral. Jackser has to be buried.’

  ‘I told ye no! Now leave me alone. Go on! Get away from me.’

  I stood staring after her, seeing her making her way left, then turn right, then stop and make up her mind, heading herself off outa the car park. She is probably making her way home. If she gets back there I will never get her out. God knows what may happen to her.

  I rushed after her and grabbed her arm, trying to turn her around gently. She flung out her arm, pushing me away.

  ‘I’m after tellin ye! Leave me alone! He’s fine. I’ll sort it out in me own time. Now, go on, just leave me in peace. Ye’re tormentin me.’

  I could see she was white as a sheet, totally lost, with the confusion written all over her face and an awful pain showing in her eyes. It was like she was so lost, but thought that if she could think her way through it, she could make things better. Her whole world had collapsed from under her. Jackser was her nightmare, but he was the devil she knew. She had never been on her own before and this was her worst nightmare. But as long as she believes Jackser is still only in the hospital, then all will be like it was before – the familiar world she knew and depended on.

  ‘Ma, please come back to the car,’ I said, trying to get her to look at me. But it was like I had done something too horrible for her to face. I disgusted and frightened her. I was there when she saw Jackser dead. If I go away, then Jackser is not dead. The picture will go away with me.

  ‘OK, you are right, Ma, let’s forget about burying Jackser. Sure, let’s forget about it altogether, but maybe we will just do something. Come on. Get in the car with me, let’s go off somewhere,’ I said, speaking gently and quietly, then taking her arm when I saw her hesitate. She was letting her eyes show interest, while her mind worked out this new hopeful idea.

  ‘OK, Ma? Let’s go,’ I said, turning her around and leading her slowly back to the car. She got in and said nothing. I kept quiet.

  I drove slowly, trying to think.

  ‘Do you know, Ma, what would you think about the idea of calling in on the local priest? We could talk to him about Jackser.’

  ‘No!’ she muttered, shaking her head, just staring into the distance, looking quite definite about that one.

  ‘OK,’ I said, wondering where the parish priest’s house was. I headed over to the church, seeing that in the distance, then stopped outside the house that looked like where he would live, right next to the church. I switched off the engine, then looked at the ma, saying, ‘Sure, what harm can it do? It won’t cost us anything to tell him what happened. See what he says, Ma.’

  She said nothing, just stared ahead, but at least she didn’t say no.

  I decided to take it easy. I pulled out my tobacco and rolled up a cigarette. ‘Are you hungry, Ma? Will we get something to eat?’

  ‘No!’ She shook her head, staring straight in front of her.

  ‘Come on, we’ll go into the chapel and say a little prayer for Jackser, Ma. We can light a candle for him. He would like that. Remember all the little penny candles you used to light around the corner in John’s Lane church when I was little? Back in the old Liberties, Ma, where you and me was born and all your family? Remember them days, Ma? It was just you and me, then Charlie. You were very young then, Ma, only a teenager. Now look at all you have managed to come through!’

  She sat, barely nodding her head, but then I saw her face change, like she was thinking back, getting a wistful look as if she was feeling again the pain of the loneliness, the lack of money. But yet, all the hope and expectation she had back then. She was young, she had her dreams and life was only starting.

  ‘Come on,’ I barely whispered, ‘let’s light another candle. One from you, and one from me, for Jackser.’ I waited, holding my breath.

  She moved without saying anything. Then I jumped out and rushed around, opening the heavy car door to let her out.

  I put my arm around her as we walked into the dimly lit church. Our eyes blinked, wanting to adjust from the bright sunlight beating down outside. It was lovely and quiet; the statues had little red lamps glowing under each and every one.

  ‘Which saint will we go to, Ma?’ I said, stopping to look around, seeing one in nearly every corner and in little alcoves, with polished brass gates into some of them.

  ‘We’ll go over to the Blessed Virgin, the mother of God,’ she said, after looking around for a few minutes.

  I knew she had hardly set foot inside a church since she met Jackser, except when he sent her out on the tear, rushing around the churches, trying to find a priest to give her a few bob – it was mostly to get him his Woodbine cigarettes. Then, after that, would come the milk and then the bread, in that order.

  ‘That was nice, wasn’t it, Ma?’ I said, blinking as we came outa the church, then looking at me ma, seeing a more content, peaceful look on her face. ‘Right! Listen, seeing as we’re here, Ma, why don’t we go in and see the priest, get him to say a mass for Jackser? Wouldn’t that be a great idea?’ I said, heading straight in to ring the doorbell seeing as she hadn’t objected.

  I rang and we waited. Me ma didn’t look too sure. Her eyes were getting hard and her mouth was clamping tight. Then the door was whipped open by a pale-faced, thin-looking man with grey hair and glasses. He looked at us. I tried to think. ‘Eh! Yes, hello, Father! We have come about the mass,’ I said, drawing his eyes to me ma wearing the black scarf, not wanting to mention the word funeral.

  His eyes took me in, followed the line of us to the car sitting outside, decided we were lost or we wouldn’t be driving from the flats just across the road.

  ‘What parish are you in?’ he said quick as a flash, getting ready to tell us we had the wrong parish, wrong priest. Brilliant for him – no having to wear himself out doing a funeral.

  ‘This one!’ I said, pointing over to the flats.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, looking disappointed. ‘You better come in. OK, what is the deceased’s name?’

  ‘John Fredrick Harold Manzk.’

  ‘How do you spell that?’ he said, looking at his big book with all the masses lined up.

  I spelt it for him, then he looked at his book.

  ‘Eleven a.m. Mass on the sixth of July.’

  ‘Oh, good, two days’ time,’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ the priest nodded, waiting for me to digest this. Then he said, ‘Removal for burial immediately after, at twelve noon. Where is the burial?’ he said, with the pen at the ready, held in the air.

  I thought about this. ‘He can be buried with Harry, Ma.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, suddenly realising that was a good idea. It was dawning on her things were happening, but everything seemed to be all right.

  ‘Glasnevin Cemetery, Father.’

  ‘OK, that is fine. Is it y
our husband?’ he said, looking at the ma.

  She hesitated, trying to work this out.

  ‘Yes, her lifelong partner, Father,’ I said, wanting to make it easy for her.

  ‘I am sorry for your trouble,’ he said, taking her hand and holding it gently.

  Me ma blinked, giving a grateful little smile. I made a move, saying, ‘Thank you, Father. We will see you then.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, opening the front door and letting us out. Then shutting the door quickly behind us.

  We walked slowly to the car, with the sun blinding us. Me ma looked more alive now, it seemed she was heading in the right direction.

  ‘Come on, Ma, let’s get in,’ I said, whipping out me tobacco, wanting to celebrate in my own quiet way, saying nothing to the ma in case everything would be upended. I didn’t want to disturb the quiet bit of peace that was settling into her; it was still very fragile.

  ‘Listen,’ I said, starting up the engine, ‘let’s keep going.’

  ‘Are ye sure, Martha?’ she said, getting nervous about what might be happening next, not even sure if she was doing the right thing now.

  ‘Oh, yeah, Ma,’ I said. ‘Jackser would have you doing this himself if he was here to tell you! Wouldn’t he? You know what he was like. If something has to be done, he’d say, “It has te be done! Now get goin an fuckin do it!” Can you not hear him?’ I said, looking at her with a ready smile waiting on my face.

  ‘Yeah,’ she muttered, looking at me with a little light in her eyes and a half-smile of regret on her face, knowing that is exactly what he would say.

  20

  I pulled the car up outside an undertaker’s, seeing straight away me ma’s eyes light on it then look away.

  ‘I’m not goin in there, Martha!’ she snapped, looking away with her face going tight.

  I stared at her, then looked at the undertaker’s. It was shaded in blinds with a very solemn-looking sign outside. It rumbled quietly of tears and misery. Fuck, no way can I get the ma in there! She’s terrified of anything to do with death. No wonder her mind has gone wandering now with the shock of losing Jackser to it. Go easy, Martha. Think, but walk carefully.

  I sat for a few minutes and rolled up a cigarette. After lighting it, I said, ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. Why don’t we get out and go around the corner? Let’s get something to eat. There’s a fish and chip shop there. Come on! Let’s go. I’m starving, Ma.’

  She thought about it for a few minutes, looked up at the sign, then looked back at me suspiciously. I nodded, saying, ‘Yeah, let’s get something nice to eat, Ma. That’s all we need do.’

  She took in a big breath, then shifted herself. I rushed around to open the door, getting her out while the going was good.

  We looked in the window, examining the menu. ‘What do ye fancy, Ma?’

  She lifted her mouth, chewing it, shaking her head and muttering, ‘I don’t care. I’m not very hungry.’

  ‘Let’s go in!’ I said, grabbing her arm and rushing in the door. We smelled the grub straight away. Oh! I thought. I didn’t realise I was hungry.

  ‘What about a nice bit of fish for you, Ma? Or a fried egg? That’s soft – and maybe a few baked beans. You can nibble on my chips, because you don’t eat them anyway. You suck on them, then spit them out. But only when you’ve sucked them to death!’ I added, wanting to make her laugh. ‘Come on, let’s sit by the window. We can watch the passing parade!’

  ‘Wha parade are ye talkin about, Martha?’

  ‘The people, Ma. The traffic, the comings and goings, see a bit of the world!’

  She snorted at the idea of me rambling, but sat herself down, facing the window out onto the street.

  ‘Anything else, you want, Ma?’ I said, looking from her to the Italian young one waiting patiently for us to finish. The ma kept changing her mind.

  ‘Oh, yeah! An will ye give us a pot a tea an a plate a bread an butter, love!’ me ma said, sounding like she had to be nice, as if we were under compliment by getting it for nothing.

  ‘OK!’ the fat young one said, with the mass of jet-black hair hanging around her shoulders. It was frizzy and stood out in all directions.

  ‘Did ye see tha young one’s hair, Martha?’ the ma said, looking at me like she was going to be sick, with the mouth open in disgust.

  ‘Yeah, Ma. Nice, isn’t it?’

  ‘No! I hope she doesn’t get tha fuckin hair in me food!’ she said, already making up her mind she couldn’t eat it.

  ‘What about a knickerbocker glory, Ma?’

  ‘Wha! Wha’s tha, Martha?’

  ‘An ice cream, Ma, with fruit in it,’ I said, seeing her looking at me like I had just told her we were off on an expedition to the jungle.

  ‘Is it very foreign, Martha?’

  ‘What do ye mean, Ma?’

  ‘No! I don’t like the sound a tha! I like te know wha I’m eatin!’ she said, grabbing the coat around her and shifting in the chair.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right, Ma. Let’s get ourselves a big ice-cream banana boat, with melted chocolate and slices of banana.’

  ‘Banana? Can ye do tha, Martha?’ she said, looking at me with the eyebrows raised.

  ‘Yeah, course! And you’ll be able to eat it, Ma – the banana’s soft, OK?’

  ‘Ah, go on then, but I would prefer a cornet!’

  ‘This is the same thing, Ma, except ye get it in a lovely boat-shaped glass bowl!’ I said.

  ‘Oh, do ye? Tha sounds lovely. Yeah, get tha, Martha. Where’s tha young one?’ she said, whipping herself around.

  ‘Now! Are you happy, Ma? That was really nice that meal was, wasn’t it, Ma? Did you enjoy that?’

  ‘Yeah, it was lovely an grand, nice an hot!’

  ‘Right, will we get moving?’ I said, going over to pay the bill, then opening the door for me ma, heading us up towards the car.

  We passed the undertaker’s and I stopped to look in the window. There was nothing to be seen. The place was hidden with white-mesh curtain blinds that blocked everything out. I grabbed her arm gently, heading her in the door, holding me breath.

  A man sitting behind a desk was instantly on his feet, coming towards us with a big but sorrowful-looking smile on his handsome-looking face. I smiled; he bent down to the ma, recognising instantly she was the widow with the black headscarf.

  ‘Would you like to come and take the weight off your feet?’ he whispered, leading the ma over to a chair sitting in front of his desk like she was the most delicate thing he had ever handled in all his born days. Me ma let herself be led, liking the idea of being minded by a man.

  ‘Now,’ he said, after allowing the air to fill with sorrow and loss, then he asked in a very gentle voice how he could help us. They sounded like magic words, as if he could, and now would, lift the yoke of sorrow. I said nothing, being too busy letting meself take in the whole atmosphere he was creating. He leaned his head towards me ma, resting his gorgeous, navy-blue, mother-of-all-sorrows eyes on her. I stared at them, thinking they’re lovely but very tragic-looking. It was as if every day had brought him a new crucifixion, as if he had spent his life carrying the cross of so many. Now he was ready and willing to take up another cross – me ma’s!

  I took to him straight away. The ma, now, was not so sure. She kept looking back around at all the coffins sitting behind us. They were lined up against the wall.

  I took in a deep breath, then heard me voice coming out in a squeak; the nerves were getting to me. I started again and he helped me out.

  ‘Do you wish me to arrange a funeral?’ he whispered, leaning over to me, covering me in oozing molasses!

  I gave a little shiver. Jaysus! Them eyes. I couldn’t stop staring. I would even be willing to climb inta a coffin meself if I could get him in with me, I thought, forgetting the ma for a minute.

  ‘Sorry?’ I said, losing the track of where we were.

  ‘Would you like me to take down some details?’

  I still stared. The ma gave a
cough, shifting in her chair. She wanted to move, get out. That woke me up. I galvanised meself inta action. ‘Oh, yes. The deceased’s name is …’ I rushed, hearing meself say deceased! Jaysus, he has me mesmerised. I’m hysterical! It’s the relief at getting the ma in here.

  ‘Eh, yes! Right,’ I said, trying to think where I was. ‘Oh, yes, you want the details,’ I said, trying to hold onto me senses. The bloody tiredness is hitting in.

  ‘We have arranged the Mass and removal with the priest.’ I gave him all the details, including the ma’s address. She stayed quiet, listening, then nodding when I looked at her.

  ‘Yes, good,’ he nodded, giving me a flash of them eyes again.

  Then I gave the hospital name, saying, ‘Yes, he’s in the morgue there.’

  ‘OK, I will just give them a ring to confirm they are ready to release the body. It could be the coroner might want to do his work first.’

  He came off the phone saying, ‘No, all is in order there. They are ready to release the body. Now, would you like to choose?’ He stood up, showing us the coffins. ‘You have a choice of three.’

  I took the ma, getting her standing, and walked her over to the wall. ‘These are lovely, Ma. Look at the carvings on them. Gawd! Wouldn’t Jackser love that?!’ I said, running me hand along the wood. ‘Eh, which is the cheapest?’ I said, keeping an eye on the money.

  ‘Those ones there – you have a choice of three in each price range. These ones here would be the cheapest,’ he said, leading us around the corner to more white-looking coffins, but they didn’t look much different. That’s if you couldn’t tell the difference between solid oak, white deal pine and pitch pine. I could! I like wood, antiques. But I shut me mouth.