A Small Part of Me

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A Small Part of Me Page 7

by Noelle Harrison


  There was a time of chaos, she said, a churning black river, swollen and violent, which swept all in its path. The river wouldn’t permit any to sail on it, even the birds that lived along its course. It wouldn’t allow the fish to pass through it without tossing them up and out of it so that they were dizzy and lost. The river took over. It burst its banks and flooded the land. All the fields were submerged and the creatures climbed the trees. But out of this confusion, under clouds, which lashed rain, was one dry hilltop. And it was on this first hilltop, on the first day, that came the first sunrise.

  What happened then?

  The sun shone down, and fed a tiny seed of hope. It was the beginning of our world.

  CIAN

  Cian forgot to eat his lunch again. There never was enough time. Today he and Corey went into the trees at the edge of the schoolyard and played monsters. Sometimes it gets so dark in there he could be inside a tomb. Sometimes he really does get frightened.

  Teacher tells them to line up like a crocodile, and they walk out of class. Nearly all the boys run, but Cian doesn’t like to do that. He likes to walk slowly. That’s cool, more like a cowboy.

  There she is, standing behind some of the other mothers. She steps forward, but he doesn’t run, just slowly goes through the gates. They say nothing. He just takes her hand and they walk to the car.

  ‘I’m starving,’ he says as he plugs in his seatbelt.

  ‘Did you not eat your lunch?’

  ‘No, I forgot. I was playing.’

  She sighs and he can see her eyes in the mirror. ‘So what do you have in there?’

  ‘Sandwich and two bars.’

  ‘No fruit?’

  ‘No.’

  She sounds cross now. ‘I told your father that you must always have a piece of fruit.’

  ‘He does most times,’ Cian says quickly. He doesn’t mean to lie, but he doesn’t want her to be cross.

  Cian opens up the box. The sandwich is okay. His lunches never taste as good when his daddy does them.

  ‘Are we going to your cottage?’ Cian asks.

  ‘No,’ she hesitates. ‘We’re going somewhere else. It’s a surprise, but first we’re going to see if Johnny wants to come with us.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so, Mammy, he won’t go anywhere with you.’

  Her voice sounds shaky. ‘Why not? I’m his mammy.’

  They drive into town and Mammy parks outside Johnny’s school, the big school. Cian peers out at the shiny white walls and long buildings. A heap of big kids start to pile out of the gates.

  ‘Wait here, I won’t be long,’ she says and gets out of the car.

  Cian watches her and at the same time sees his brother, in a group of big boys, coming out of the school. Johnny sees Mammy and he doesn’t look happy.

  Oh no, I hope they don’t have a row, Cian thinks.

  Cian watches. His mammy is flinging her arms this way and that, and talking, talking. Johnny is just standing there, not moving, and his arms are crossed.

  Johnny does that to him sometimes, just stands and stares at him, as if he hates him. And sometimes he gives him a wallop on the back, and if Cian tells Daddy, he says toughen up and don’t be such a tell-tale tit. Mammy always tells Johnny off. Once when Cian was a toddler she made Johnny stay in his room all day because he kicked Cian with his football boots on and Mammy said that was dangerous. She said that Johnny could have given him brain damage.

  Now it’s just the three of them, Daddy, Johnny and him. Daddy and Johnny have each other, but who does he have? So he has a make-believe friend and he calls him Jake, and he’s nearly as good fun as Corey is at school.

  Cian looks up again. All the boys with Johnny are just staring at Mammy, and some of them are whispering. He can see them hiding their mouths behind their hands. What are they saying?

  Mammy stops talking now. She takes Johnny’s hand, but he pulls it away. It’s no good, it’s no good, thinks Cian. He can see she has given up. But it’s odd then because he can see Johnny nodding. It looks like he’s saying all right.

  Still, he doesn’t come.

  Johnny is very good at football and he’s clever too. Daddy says he can be anything he wants to be. Cian thinks he might be a superhero. That would be cool. Imagine if your brother was a superhero! He kneels up in the car, then dives down onto the seat. Whooh! He’s flying up in the sky, on a superhero mission!

  Mammy gets into the car and starts it up. She says nothing. Cian turns around and looks out the back window. He can see Johnny moving away from his friends, walking on his own, kicking a stone up the street.

  Johnny looks up and sees Cian in the car. He waves. It’s a big wave, like a really big goodbye. Cian waves back, and then they turn the corner.

  CHRISTINA

  She couldn’t leave without trying.

  The last time Christina had seen Johnny was a flash of his back as he walked out of the sitting room and into the kitchen, two weeks ago on the Sunday night when she had dropped Cian home. Even his back had said it all – stiff and hurt and determined not to turn around and acknowledge her.

  What had she done to him?

  She had tortured herself all the way home.

  It was this guilt that had made her give up so easily, to relinquish custody in court. It would have been a hard fight, her solicitor told her, after what had happened, and with Johnny insisting he never wanted to set eyes on her again.

  He was seventeen, and she had just blasted him out of adolescence into the adult world. There was no room for compassion in Johnny’s eyes, just anger and confusion.

  Johnny had cat’s eyes, almond shaped and blue like Declan’s. His lashes were dark and his cheekbones high. His blond hair was thicker than his father’s and flopped around on top of his head, refusing to be tamed.

  She remembered a time when Johnny had been happy to let her hold him, when he had needed her. He had been a nervous little boy and she remembered his first day at school, the way he had clung to her, refusing to let her out of his sight so that she had to sit down the back of the class all morning, waiting for an opportunity to sneak off.

  There had been lots of times when it had been just her and Johnny, before Cian was born and when Declan was away with work. He used to like to bake, and they would destroy the kitchen trying out Granny Angel’s cake recipes. The fun they would have! And then afterwards, cuddling up on the couch together, using the dog as a hearth rug and eating hot doughy cake until their bellies ached.

  Oh, God! she thought. How things had changed.

  ‘Johnny…’ she hesitated, glancing at a smudge of blue ink on her son’s bottom lip. He looked tired, older. She could see the beginnings of the man he would become.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ His eyes narrowed and he flicked his hair with his hand, only for it to fall immediately back over his face.

  ‘Your hair’s got very long,’ she said, reaching over to push it out of his eyes.

  ‘Get off me,’ he said, brusquely stepping back. ‘Go away. Can’t you see how embarrassing this is for me?’ he hissed through clenched lips. There were other kids around, but she didn’t see them. They were just a sea of navy uniforms holding her son. All she could see was Johnny, and his tight anger.

  ‘Just leave me alone.’

  His voice was raw, his eyes filled with hurt.

  Even before all of this, Johnny had been a sad child. He cried a lot as a baby, never seemed content. Unlike Cian, a happy baby, always a sunny disposition. Maybe it was her. Maybe while Johnny was in her womb he had picked up on all her fears, her growing sense of entrapment.

  ‘I just need to see you, darling, please.’

  ‘How could you do this to me, turn up here, in front of all my friends, during the exams?’

  ‘Well, come with me now, we’ll discuss it in the car.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to. Just go away.’ He turned away from her, pulling his bag up his shoulder.

  ‘Please, Johnny.’ She reached out to him and tr
ied to take hold of the bag. ‘We’re going somewhere and I want you to come too.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He pushed her hand off the bag and stepped back again.

  ‘Just a little break, for a few days. I really want you to come with me.’

  ‘Does Dad know?’ He looked at her strangely, his eyes black slits.

  ‘No, and I’d rather he didn’t,’ she said nervously, glancing down at the ground. ‘I just want it to be the three of us, you, me and Cian.’

  ‘I can’t, I’ve football. Besides, I don’t want to be anywhere near you ever again.’ He hurled the words out and they hit her like sharp stones.

  ‘Johnny, I’m sorry. How many times do I have to try to explain?’

  ‘There’s no bloody explanation for what you did. Did you ever think how it made me feel?’

  ‘Don’t swear, please.’

  ‘Fuck off.’ His lips curled up in a snarl and he reminded her of a dog defending its territory, all bark and no bite.

  ‘Okay, okay, I’m going. The exams—’

  ‘They’re okay,’ he interrupted.

  ‘Are you finished now?’

  ‘Yeah. Listen, will you just go?’

  She stared at him. He was scarlet. Her son was ashamed of her. A wave of nausea flooded her mouth.

  ‘Right,’ she nodded, turning. ‘Please don’t tell your dad about this, will you?’ He said nothing. ‘Johnny?’

  ‘All right, just go away.’

  She had felt that he wanted to hit her, just flick her away because her presence hurt too much.

  Keep him safe, she whispered, her fingers gripping the steering wheel, please protect him. She didn’t know who she was asking – she just pushed the thought out, hoping it would remain like a blanket around him after she was gone.

  She had taken a risk telling him that they were going away for the weekend, although she didn’t say where. Johnny could ring Declan now on his mobile and she could be stopped. But Johnny had promised that he wouldn’t tell.

  She wasn’t sure when she would see him again.

  The thought made her feel sick once more. How could she leave him? But this was her only way out, this one tiny opening. She glanced in the rear view mirror. Cian was looking out of the window, talking to himself, oblivious to her turmoil.

  Had she lost him forever? Her Johnny boy?

  You deserve to lose him.

  It didn’t matter what she deserved. Whatever it was about Johnny, she was sure that Cian was happier with her. It had always been that way, the family split down the middle.

  Johnny had been Declan’s, for as long as she could remember. As soon as her husband had introduced Johnny to Gaelic, it had been love at first sight. Every spare moment was either spent playing football and hurling or going to see matches. Christina had always felt that the two of them were in collusion, talking about their precious GAA. Johnny was able to command Declan’s full attention, something she had never been able to achieve.

  She did try for a while. She went along to the matches, cheered, tried to understand the scoring, but it wasn’t in her, this passion, and they knew she was just pretending. So she gave up. Before Cian came along, her life had been very lonely.

  With Cian there was a bond, an understanding, which she had never shared with her eldest son. It broke her heart.

  Had Johnny always known this? Had he detected a part of his mother he could never reach, a part his little brother was master of? They say that you love all your children the same way. It just wasn’t true.

  Declan and Christina had brought out the worst in each other. She could see that now. And when their young love quickly died, smothered by domestic chores and the demands of the real world, they were both too afraid to do anything about it but clung on to what little they had in the hope that some day the old magic might return. She couldn’t blame Declan. There were times when he had tried. But as she saw Johnny grow up, she saw that Declan was capable of such immense love, such tenderness. It was a side of him she rarely saw but was there, laid out at her son’s feet. She couldn’t help a slight feeling of resentment, then shame. What kind of mother was jealous of her own son?

  It was around that time she had started drinking during the day. A glass of wine at lunchtime helped her cope with the demands of a cranky pre-school child. And then another glass or two before dinner, a little ritual she enjoyed while she was cooking.

  She hadn’t been addicted. She gave up when she was pregnant with Cian and didn’t drink for a whole year after he was born.

  What had made her start again?

  She remembered now. It had been her birthday, but Declan had insisted on taking Johnny to a match. She had been so mad, and jealous, especially when they got back from Dublin and Johnny told her that Declan had taken him to the cinema as well. She remembered the two of them, compatriots, almost laughing at her anger while the baby cried upstairs. She had felt so excluded.

  Christina hit the main road. It was hot and she opened the sunroof. Although it was the same old road as always, it looked different. She was driving into a dream, or a film. She was watching herself speeding along with Cian in the back, winding down the windows. A delicious breeze passed through the car and Christina’s nerves began to dissipate. Finally, she was doing something.

  GRETA

  I was walking in the woods today, and what struck me was how still everything was. The sky was bright blue and you could still see the moon in the sky. There was no wind, no dampness, an early morning chill, but the sun became a little stronger, the birds sang a little louder. It was a perfect spring day.

  I wrapped up and my breath crystalised in the air. It was so quiet that any movement was amplified a thousand times over.

  A hawk took off from the top of the hill, and I could hear its wings beating through the sky. It made my heart race. I could hear the conversation of the birds, the dimension of it, the shape of their sounds, flattened now and again by a distant car.

  As I walked deeper into the wood, I felt I was coming closer to the heart of it. All this stillness, the peace. I fell on a tree root, but my landing was cushioned by the soft mounds of completely dry earth.

  I went into the centre.

  And at the top of the wood, the mud was still tipped with white and the puddles were frozen over. I looked at the ice patterns and the water trapped in ice, its flow arrested. I think it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  My walk was one moment in my life. And this one moment was eternal.

  And then I saw it. One tiny primrose, come too soon. The air was so clean I knew it would freeze again tonight. That little flower had no chance. I touched it but didn’t pick it.

  Aren’t you brave? I said.

  CHRISTINA

  Christina parked the car in the long-term zone and took the shuttle bus to the main terminal. Cian jigged up and down on the seat beside her.

  ‘We’re going on an aeroplane! We’re going on an aeroplane!’

  Other passengers looked at him and smiled over at her. She smiled stiffly back.

  She was rigid with apprehension, her earlier confidence short lived. She opened her bag yet again, checking the tickets and her and Cian’s passports. She even had Johnny’s passport, which she’d slipped into her bag the day she left home. Even then she’d had an inkling of what she might have to do.

  Unless Johnny had said something to Declan, there was no possible reason why they would be stopped. As far as Declan was concerned, Cian was spending the weekend in Helen’s cottage.

  She pressed the palms of her hands together. They were hot and sticky. Was she doing the right thing? Was this what was best for Cian? Was she able to do this? It was too late now. She had set things in motion and it was as if her instincts had taken over.

  Christina pulled the photograph of Greta, the snowman and herself out of her bag. Cian lit upon it.

  ‘Who’s that, Mammy?’

  ‘That’s me, when I was a little girl.’

  ‘That�
��s a very big snowman.’

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’

  ‘And who’s that, Mammy?’

  ‘It’s my mammy.’

  ‘She doesn’t look like Granny Angel,’ Cian said, glancing away and looking at a plane taking off.

  Christina said nothing. There was time to explain things later.

  What was she looking for? A small part of herself that had walked out the door arm in arm with her mother the day she left?

  She was looking for sanctuary.

  The bus pulled up outside Departures and everyone tumbled out. Inside the airport was busy and she scanned the screens looking for their check-in area. Cian was running about, skidding on the shiny floor.

  ‘Cian, come here please!’ She called him several times and eventually he came over, hanging his head, his soft sandy hair stuck to his red cheeks.

  ‘Why do I have to stand still?’ he moaned.

  ‘Because you could get lost,’ she said. ‘Because someone could steal you.’

  ‘Steal me?’ His eyes opened wide. ‘Why?’

  ‘Some people do nasty things like that.’

  He stood close to her and took her hand. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked.

  ‘America.’

  ‘Are Daddy and Johnny coming?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they’re busy. They have to go to a match.’

  ‘And I don’t have to go with them? Great!’ He paused for a moment and scratched his head. ‘Do you think we can get a real cowboy hat?’ He squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll find something,’ she replied.

  ‘Great!’ He was beaming. She stopped walking, put down her case and bent down so she was on a level with him.

  ‘Are you excited about going on an aeroplane for the first time?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ he grinned, rubbing his hands, pushing his damp face close to hers.

  ‘Me too.’

  They rubbed noses and she hugged him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed his forehead and smelled his sweetness. She felt heady to have him back and she squeezed him tighter.

 

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