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Ma, Jackser's Dyin Alone

Page 31

by Martha Long


  ‘Come on, we better move,’ me ma said, seeing the nurse walk in the door, heading straight down for Dinah.

  ‘Come for your tea,’ the nurse said, bending down to put her arm gently on Dinah’s back. ‘Did you have a lovely visit?’ she said, looking from me and the ma, then back to Dinah still sitting with a big smile on her face.

  She looks very happy, I thought, feeling my heart gladden. The ma even looks happy too. Oh, thank God everything seems to be working out for the best, I thought, getting up as the ma made a move.

  ‘We’ll see ye at the funeral, Dinah, you an Gerry. Where is he?’ me ma said, looking around for him.

  ‘He’s gone down to his tea,’ the nurse whispered, waiting for Dinah to get to her feet, then we all walked together out the door.

  ‘Is he all right?’ me ma said, looking at the nurse.

  ‘Yes, he seems to have taken it well, hasn’t he?’ the nurse said.

  ‘Yeah,’ me ma laughed. ‘But I don’t think it sunk in! He seemed delighted wit himself tha he was right about wha happened. Ye know! Him goin like tha.’

  ‘Yes, I agree with you,’ the nurse said, ‘he doesn’t fully realise his father has passed away. But, nonetheless, he seems to be coping for now. He has gone down to his tea looking like there is not a bother on him. But we will keep an eye on him, especially with the funeral coming up. So, this is the best we can hope for,’ the nurse said, taking Dinah off down the passage while we stood at the entrance door, just on our way out.

  ‘Bye bye now, Dinah! Look after yerself,’ me ma waved.

  ‘Happy days, Dinah! See you soon,’ I grinned, giving her a wave then following the ma out the door.

  ‘Come on, Ma, we have a long drive back to the city,’ I said, dreading meeting the traffic as we pull closer to Dublin. ‘Will you be OK? I can give you a lift home or do you want to come home with me for the night?’

  ‘No, no, Martha. I would prefer te be in me own place. There’s no point goin wit you. I’m funny like tha. I prefer the comfort of me own few bits an pieces around me.’

  ‘OK, if you’re sure,’ I said, opening the car door and letting her in. ‘OK, I’ll drop you home if you’re happy with that, then I better get home myself. I haven’t seen the kids properly for over a week. They are missing me and I certainly miss them,’ I muttered to meself.

  Here we go, another day, I thought as I headed over to the Morning Star homeless men’s hostel, hoping to catch up with Charlie.

  ‘No, I’m sorry I can’t help you. As I said, he turned up here two nights ago with drink on him. He was drunk and he knew our policy – you can’t come in here unless you’re dry. So he hasn’t been seen since.’

  I stood on the doorstep looking around me, staring into the distance trying to get a picture of where he might be. I stood thinking, muttering, ‘Thanks. It’s a pity he’s not here. I wonder where he might be?’ I said, coming back to me senses, looking up into the face of the supervisor.

  He shook his head, blowing out his cheeks, keeping the air in his face before letting it out saying, ‘God knows where that could be. Sure, they ramble all over the city! He could be sitting anywhere now – probably met up with a few of his drinking cronies, down-and-outs. Who knows? They go where they can get their hands on a few pennies for a drink. Sorry I can’t help you,’ he said, making a snap move, ready to shut the door.

  ‘OK,’ I sighed, standing meself up straight and drawing a big breath inta me lungs. ‘Thanks anyway,’ I said, walking off as he shut the door and I made for the car.

  Where to now, Martha? My eyes lit on the big old building straight ahead. It was just past the Georgian house for homeless women and children and looked like a barracks. When you went in through the gates, you rounded into the grounds of the old Grangegorman mental hospital. It must have been there for hundreds of years. Every Dubliner who ever had a mad relative ended up in that place, including the ma nearly. I laughed to meself, hearing her again when I was very little. ‘I’m warnin ye, Martha! If ye don’t give up tha whingin an keenin outa ye, I’ll be done for ye! They’ll fuckin lock me in Grangegorman. I’ll end up in the mad house! Me nerves are gone wit havin te listenin to ye!’ she’d roar, grinding her teeth and making a run at me.

  Oh, I believed her. She seldom got raging with me, so when we had a bed I used to head straight for under it, not taking any chances. But, no, she never laid a finger on me, the ma. Except that one time I can remember, she aimed a knife at me. Bingo! It hit the mark, opening the flesh deep in my elbow. That got me a few stitches and a shilling from the doctor. So me and Charlie got something outa that one! It had been worth our trek up to Temple Street Children’s Hospital.

  Right! I’ll head in there, but I better leave the car where it is. I know the drug addicts and down-and-outs are hanging around there now. Jaysus, them bastards would skin alive their grannies for the next fix or drink. But drunkards are not so desperate; it’s the junkies you watch out for. The problem is really getting very serious – even the old people now are getting a dirty syringe held up to their necks. They do it while they rob the poor things of their few ha’pence pension money. They are fucking desperate. It would frighten you to look at them. They look like emaciated, half-dead walking corpses, staggering around with red, bloodshot eyes. What’s worse is half of them are still only kids. Jesus help the mothers! I would lose my mind. Few of them are even making it beyond their early twenties, but it’s mostly only the city Dubliners. We’re the ones being wiped out.

  Now if it was the south side, where the judges and doctors live? Oh, no! Wouldn’t happen. Their outrage would bring the government down. Their sweet little things will not be subjected to the appalling negligence of this government, no, no, no! ‘Little Poppet’ will not be allowed to suffer, not simply because they are drug addicts. This is an illness, dear! We demand the best care. We pay our taxes. Oh, no! But it’s all right to just let the real Dubliners wipe themselves out! Make more room for the culchies, even if they like to think of themselves as ‘sophisticated Dubliners’ when they travel home to their roots in the bog. The gobshites! Still, got to be realistic now – addicts are deadly. They are like mindless zombies out of their heads on the bleedin drugs. They would drink your blood if they thought it would give them a high!

  Jaysus, Martha, very clever, you have just scared the shite outa yourself! Are you going to go in now after all that? I looked up, feeling meself rattle inside. Go on, get going. Charlie might be mooching around in there.

  I walked in through the back gate, except the gates are long since robbed. They’re probably sitting up now, gracing the entrance to some new rich culchie’s Dallas-style mansion, with him showing off to all the relatives and neighbours. They’re standing with their sharp intakes of breath, not able to take in the style at all at all of Mickey and his new money. ‘Ye won the lotto! Good man yureself! I always knew ye had it in yeh! Now, any chance on yeh lettin me have tha auld combine harvester? Sure, yeh won’t be needin dat now yeh gave up the auld farming!’

  Fuck! You’re going nuts again, Martha. What’s ailing you? I let out me wind and paused, trying to get myself back on an even track. Yeah! I suppose it’s the week that’s in it. I’m exhausted, I miss the kids and now I can’t find Charlie. Right! Shoulders back, deep breath, think what a wonderful day it is. You haven’t really got a care in the world. You can take it nice and easy. Just be clinical about this matter; it will all get sorted in the end. Even if it doesn’t? Well, it’s not the end of the world, you are just tired, woman. Right! That’s settled.

  I wandered around the huge building, taking in all the broken windows. It’s getting derelict very fast, even though they only closed down the place a few months ago. There’s so many windows! I thought, looking up. The building is powerfully strong. It’s made of solid granite. Nobody could break their way out through them iron bars or doors in a hurry! But then I noticed some of the bars had been jimmied back. Suddenly, without warning, I heard voices behind me. I looked
back just in time to see a fella jumping out of the lower bottom window; it was over a five-and-a-half-foot drop.

  ‘Wait, will ye!’ a skinny young one of about seventeen roared, turning her bony arse on the windowsill. Then she sat looking down, twisting herself, trying to figure out the best way to jump. ‘Will ye fuckin come on outa tha, Josie! Help me, ye fucker,’ she screamed.

  A disembodied voice complained, ‘I’m caught between these bleedin bars, so I am! Hurry, come on, bleedin jump! I’m not stayin all day waitin on the likes a you!’ roared the voice as it suddenly appeared outa the mouth of a bony-looking head now popping up behind her at the window. ‘Jump! Or I’ll give ye a hand! I’ll fuckin push ye!’ screamed Bony-head.

  ‘BUNNY! GIV’S A BLEEDIN HAND! Mockey is sendin me head-first!’ she gasped, looking down trying to see how far he was sending her.

  Bunny went tearing over, looking like he was going to drag her down himself. ‘Fuckin hell! Ye’re a bleedin pain in the arse! Come on!’ he said, getting his fist and dragging her by the coat, then putting out his arm, stopping her fall.

  Uh-oh! I thought, just what the doctor ordered. A new patient waiting for his emergency help – that’s me if I don’t make meself scarce. I made to fly around the corner, then I heard a roar.

  ‘EH, MISSUS!’

  Too late, I’m spotted. My heart slid down into me belly, making me feel weak. Jesus, the game’s up. There’s no point in keep going – there’s nowhere to go! This building stretches for miles, with not even the sign of a front entrance, I thought, desperately flying me eyes up, down and round, taking in the length and breadth of the place. Oh, bloody hell, the main way out must be way up around the other side. Yeah, that’s probably where it is.

  I suddenly turned around and faced them.

  ‘Hey, missus! Have ye gor a light? Will ye give us a cigarette? Have ye got any change te spare?’ the first fella said, limping with a bit of a run on him as he hurried himself up to me.

  I took in a deep breath and changed the expression on my face, making it look annoyed and worried.

  ‘Wha? I was just about te ask youse for one! Have none any a ye’s not got air a one on ye? I’m gummin for a bleedin smoke!’ I said, staring at them with me mouth wide open, looking from one to the other.

  ‘Wha?’ your man said, with the bones sticking out on his cheeks and the eyes dead in his head. But you could see the aggression and nervous energy in the shifting of his body from one side to the other, looking like he was gently hopping his feet. While I talked, I kept me eyes on his hands, seeing they weren’t slipping to bring out a syringe, and watched his eyes for a sudden shift, then a rigid look in the body telling me he was ready to spring. I kept meself relaxed, letting him stay close, like he was a much-loved relative and I hadn’t a fear in the world.

  ‘Did youse see any utters up there? Any a them drinkin? I’m lookin for someone!’

  ‘Nooo! Can’t help ye!’ he said, backing away, looking disappointed and puzzled as he stared down at the style of my moccasins, black linen trousers and white Brown Thomas crisp linen shirt. They don’t match up with the way I’m talking! Plus the well-fed look of me. Yet, when I open my mouth and you see the look on my face and the knowing look in my eyes, you would know I was common as fuckin muck and I probably robbed the clothes.

  ‘Ahh! Bleedin hell, are youse sure? Did ye’s ger a good look aroun tha kip?’ I said, pointing me hand up at the building, sounding like I was on something meself.

  ‘Yeah! We jus told ye! We should know cos we’re stayin there! There’s loads a beds if ye’re lookin! Go on in, take a look aroun! There’s million a beds left in tha bleedin dump!’

  ‘Nah! Thanks anyway. I better keep on the fuckin mooch. Good luck!’ I said, seeing them giving me a wave. I walked off, heading back down the hill – not hurrying but moving anyway. Lucky for me I left my bag under the seat in the car. It would be gone now! They were asking for the light, cigarette, money – oh, yeah! I’m well up to their little game. Take out the money and you’re fucked. They take it off you or knife it off – whatever it takes.

  I stopped when I reached my car, seeing them pass the women’s hostel, heading down the hill like meself. They were hurrying, probably down to the quays to get the methadone, or whatever they get down there. I stopped for a split second, judging the distance. Yeah! No problem. I’ll be in and off before they catch up. They’re about fifteen steps away at least. I only need four moves to be vanishing with wheels under me. I opened the car, slamming the door shut, then started the engine and shot the car to the left, then reversed, shot forward and was pointing down the road. They were just coming up alongside me, half running with their mouths open, looking over at me in shock. Then I saw the eyes gleam and the chin lift as the mouth clamped with the nose giving a snort.

  ‘Fuckin conned us!’ they roared.

  I couldn’t resist! I pressed the down button for the window and grinned, clamping me left eye shut, keeping it tight, and gave the thumbs up, holding it in the air! ‘Beautiful day, eh what, boys and girls? Get plenty of fresh air now! Toodle pip, old socks!’ Then I took off like a bullet, giving them a cheery wave.

  ‘FUCKIN WHORE’S MELT!’ An unmerciful screech erupted after me, sounding strangled with the rage. I bombed down the hill giving a huge sigh of relief. Thank God I got out of that in one piece! Me heart is still rattling. Jaysus, I can do without that caper. I wouldn’t have liked to get caught napping by that shower. Just as well I don’t need a brain – that was simply pure instinct. If I had a brain, I wouldn’t have gone in there in the first place, seeing as I knew what could happen. Ah, but then you wouldn’t be Martha Long the gobshite.

  Jaysus! Where are you, Charlie? I thought, reaching the bottom of the hill and wondering which way to turn. What would I do if I was Charlie? Now, if I turn up there, I must have something in my pocket to pay for the night’s bed. Where would I head off to when I can’t get in? Somewhere close. I’m walking. I would go down the quays – there’s a homeless men’s shelter down there. Now, that was two days ago. But with a bit of luck he will have met someone or something that will keep him hanging around the area. Right, head down that direction. But first a little detour. Turn left heading up towards the Broadstone. He might be in the park up there – a lot of down-and-outs go there.

  No! And now he’s not even in the Phoenix Park, up around the Furry Glen. That’s a good place for them to sleep on a lovely night – that’s if you don’t fall over the bonking couples rolling around desperate for their bit of nookey! They’re mostly married men and women, but not to each other! Yeah, it’s definitely more comfortable than the car. Now, wouldn’t that be something nice to try out? Me an ole Blue-eyes!

  Jaysus, Martha, ye’re going loopy, nuts! Stop kidding yourself. He would have a better chance of getting a corpse back to life than getting me to let the guard down. Oh, well! It keeps me sane. Ye have te dream.

  22

  I drove back down O’Connell Street, heading around the side streets. No! Not here, I thought, looking at a few beggars sitting on the steps of the Pro Cathedral church on Marlborough Street. Right, it’s now late, very late. I better get on and head straight up to the morgue. The ma will be there waiting. She’s left there with Jackser on her own, but if she’s lucky Sally will be with her. The removal is at half-four. Fuck, it’s twenty past now.

  I could feel my heart leap and the face get a sudden burst of blood with the shock leaving me staggered. Right, put the boot down. I looked ahead, judging the traffic. I might make it just in time if these buses and cars don’t get in me way.

  I ducked and dived in and outa the traffic, not getting the nippy speed. This car is far too heavy for this carry-on. It’s meant to bullet across continents on autobahns or autostradas. Them motorways keep going for miles with no stopping – then this car is at its best. But this is definitely not good for the engine – all that stopping and starting it has to do in the city traffic.

  I drove up, making it
just in time. I could see the funeral car outside the entrance of the morgue. It was a dark, grim-looking building, with the once-yellow bricks now the colour of the inside of a chimney. The two church-looking oak doors stood wide open. I flew into the hall and turned left, heading for where the voices were coming from, then found meself looking at a stone floor with whitewashed stone walls and a cold slab in the middle of the room waiting to meet me. I gave a shiver. Jaysus, the dead house!

  ‘Here she is!’ the ma said, looking up as I flew in.

  ‘Ma! I got here. I’m on time!’ I panted, feeling relieved I hadn’t left her stuck as well.

  ‘Where were you? We were waitin,’ the ma moaned, looking very woebegone.

  ‘Yeah, I was out looking for him,’ I said, standing staring, looking at Charlie, big bold, large as life and ugly as sin. He gave me a shifty look, looking like he had done something wrong.

  ‘Charlie! Where the hell did you come out of? I have scoured the city from morning till now, looking the length and breadth for you.’

  ‘Ah, yeah, sorry! I wasn’t te know tha, Martha. I was here, over there, sitting on the steps waitin for ye’s. When I came here first, I called up te the ward at dinnertime an the nurse said he was down here. So I waited for ye’s.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ was all I could say, then went over to take a look at Jackser lying in his lovely new coffin. They had wrapped him in the white silky frill that lined the coffin. It covered him except for his hands and face.

  I stared at him. He looked stiff and very old, not the strong, young Jackser of my childhood days. But it was him all right, no mistaking that.

  ‘Jesus, he got very old, didn’t he, Martha?’ Charlie whispered, moving over to stand beside me, with the two of us staring into the coffin. ‘I hadn’t seen him fer years,’ Charlie said, staring at Jackser’s face.

 

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