by Martha Long
‘OH, MERCY!’ she screamed, flyin head first on top a Biddy Tanner sendin her lyin plastered, smotherin Mitchie Mulligan gettin him buried under the heap.
‘Get me outa here, youse animals!’ he roared, ragin wit the sudden fright.
‘Feckin never mind shaggin you! Get yer head outa me stomach!’ Biddy shouted.
‘AHHH! Oh my Jesus, I’m kilt!’ someone cried, tumblin down the stairs an gettin tangled in the bodies.
‘WATCH OUT! YOUSE COWS BASTARDS ARE GOIN—’ the voice roared, just before the rumble as people started topplin. Over an over they rolled wit the mountain now hittin us, an we all got flung back, buried an mashed te nothin. But lucky me! I ended on top of a pile sittin wit me feet danglin an the rest a me see-sawin. I could see hands start flyin an hear skin gettin slapped, now I could hear muffled threats an even feel under me the killin annihilations.
‘HIT ME, WOULD YE?’ roared Dinah Nagle.
‘TRY THA!’ Slap! ‘POLICE!’ screamed Tessie Small.
‘MAMMY!’ I screamed.
Voices from everywhere roared in me skull.
‘MIND YERSELF, BLIND EYE!’ shouted Hoppy Dolan, the aul spinster from around the corner.
‘WHOSE A BLIND EYE?’ an arse roared, tryin te lift itself outa the heap.
‘Let me up! Let me go! Save me!’ I panicked.
‘Is it me, you dried-up aul cow, ye’re talkin to?’ asked an awful-lookin head suddenly appearin up outa the lumps a bodies.
I stared seein the state of it! ‘Gawd, tha must a gor an awful shock,’ I said wit me gapin mouth movin me lips. I watched the head lookin around starin through a pair a mad bulgin eyes an a matchin red face wantin te see who it was fightin wit. Then it lit on Hoppy seein her starin back.
‘YES, YOU, YE BLIND-EYED AUL HAG!’ Hoppy croaked, suffomacatin herself wit rage on a lump a spit.
‘Wha?! Me blind eye? An when’s the last time you, ye hoppy fucker, took a look at yerself in the mirror, you dyin-lookin aul gannet,’ roared the head wit the neck thrown back all stretched now, wantin te commit murder.
‘Dyin is it I am? Look who’s talkin! I’ll give you dyin! I’ll show you who’s dyin fast enough, ye dirty aul toerag! Let me at yaaaaaaa!’
The head ducked seein the claws comin an they ended on the wrong one. Suddenly a scarf came flyin, an someone squealed wit the noise goin right through me ear.
‘Me scarf, me head! HELP! She’s pullin the hair outa me!’
‘STOP THEM!’ a voice erupted.
‘BRING THE POLICE!!’
‘NEVER MIND THE POLICE! WE’RE HAVIN A RUGGY-UP!’ shouted a young fella roarin from the back.
‘Oh no! Get me out! I’m caught in the middle a the ruggy,’ I keened, shiverin an now startin te breathe in an out fast wit me losin me wind. I spun me head lookin fer someone te help me or te find a way out fer meself.
‘MURDER! HURRY! THERE’LL BE KILLINS!’ an aul one roared, openin her mouth right over me face blastin the ears offa me. Then a wrinkled old hand wit skin hangin flew out, an tha sent me wavin back against the door jamb.
Wit tha the crowd from behind pushed in liftin me feet offa the floor.
‘Mammy!’ I screamed, flyin out me hands wit shock. I managed te haul meself up fer air on the back a two aul fellas. I grabbed a hold the neck of their shirts an held on wit me knees bent an me neck stretched, lookin like an injun hangin on his horse.
The crowd shot forward rollin the eyes in the back a me head makin me dizzy an givin me a jaunt I didn’t want. ‘Oh Mammy! Help! I’m dead!’ I shivered in meself. ‘An wha’s more worser! Delia will kill me, makin me stone dead tha’s fer definite, when she sees I wasn’t listenin.’
Then the heave stopped to a standstill at the stairs again. I slid down feelin me legs like jelly wantin te make me way fast out from the stairs an away from the slaughter. I was now headed in the direction a Father Flitters. I could hear his voice roarin, it sounded hoarse an was comin somewhere te the left behind the stairs. Tha’s where they might be all a congramagated holdin onta our Ceily. ‘I have to get te her, she’ll know wha te do now we have Mister Mullins. An Delia’s my mammy’s friend,’ I puffed, talkin te meself as I crawled between the legs of a man, he was bendin down an makin room te haul up Biddy Tanner, she was lyin stretched out on top a Nelly Dempsey.
‘Delia even made me a dolly,’ I told meself, crawlin up an under people when I saw a way past. I got her fer me birthday, I thought, feelin the steam run down me face. ‘She’s called Molly,’ I muttered as I kept goin. ‘She’s made a duck feathers an her head an legs is made a straw.’
‘Yeah,’ I whispered, keepin meself movin, takin no notice a the killins goin on all around me. ‘This must a been wha it was like in the war, when the Black an Tans tormented an even kilt the people in their very own beds! Mister Mullins told me all about tha. He knows everythin, because he was one a the men, the Rebels, tha thrun them outa the country! Yeah, he was a fightin man, an everyone looks up te him because the women nod their heads outa respect, an even the men touch their caps when they pass him. An wha’s more! They do even like him better than Father Flitters. Well, maybe they don’t actually like him, even though he’s the holy priest. They do run when they see him, tha’s because they’re afraid a him. Yeah, now the war? I definitely bet tha war must a been somethin like this, runnin fer yer life,’ I sniffed, feelin me nose goin watery an me eyes get hot. I’m sweatin but I can’t stop because I’ll only get mashed.
‘Right, keep thinkin about Molly, because I got te save her as well! She has real jet-black hair – it’s horse’s hair – an she has lovely navy-blue eyes made a buttons. An her mouth is stitched wit red thread. Yeah, I got te find them,’ I told meself, but Delia says I better watch out fer not te walk into a trap! ‘Tha’s wha Mammy warns me as well. “You walked yerself into a trap when ye opened your mouth,” Mammy shouts. She says tha when she sees someone moochin fer somethin they shouldn’t, or when they’re about te hang themself tellin a pack a lies. I do tha all the time, then forget wha I said. Ceily says I should give up lyin, because I’m too stupid an I’m not very good at it.’
4
WHEN I LIFTED me head again I was lookin straight up at Father Flitters, he was plastered against the wall wit people movin in close wavin their finger an everyone shoutin, they were all tryin te let him know wha they thought about him, but nobody would listen because they all wanted their own say. He stood starin inta the back wall wit roars comin outa his mouth lookin like he was gone mad. His hat was nowhere te be seen an I could see the stick was missin as well, not just tha but I saw a fella standin beside me wearin his lovely black woolly scarf – he had it wrapped around his neck. Then the missin hat suddenly appeared, it was floatin itself along the air wit no one wearin it! Me mouth dropped an I stared, it was movin further back now headin fer the door.
Suddenly an aul fella roared, ‘MIND ME BUNIONS!’ An the hat came flyin back in my direction. I watched as it lifted, then I saw wha happened. It had been sittin rattlin on the neck of a scruffy-lookin young fella wit the hat ten times too big fer his head. Then I saw the face appear as it turned around an saw me starin. I watched as his eyes lit up an he pushed the hat outa his way te stare back, then he had the cheek te give me a big wink lettin his mankey scruffy face crease into a smile.
I put the evil eye on him wit me mouth goin pointy lettin heavy breaths come down me nose. He didn’t care! He was too busy lookin very happy wit himself, just like he owned the joint. An the dirt a him, the smelly ornament! His face is mouldy black wit the dirt an I could see white streaks comin from his dried snots.
I know him. Tha’s Sooty! He’s one a the Hamberleys! He’s black as the ace a spades because his da’s a chimney sweep an sometimes he has te help him. Tha’s when the da shoves him up the chimney te see what’s blockin his brushes. He told us one time his da lit a fire under his arse when he got stuck, he did tha te get him back down.
‘An did ye get back then in a hurry?’ we asked hi
m.
‘Yeah I did an all! Like greased bleedin lightnin,’ he said, showin his white teeth an the white in his eyes – the only thing te be seen in his pot-black face.
Now look a him, the cheek of him! Who does he think he is comin inta my house? He thinks he’s big but he’s not! He’s only a scut wit his nine years old! I’ll catch up on tha in another while. He’s not gettin away wit this!
I dropped me fists te me sides an leaned me head on me shoulder givin him a stare, lettin him know I was goin te give him a fight. He just shook his head lettin the hat rattle, tormentin me. An I can’t get at him! Him an me have te keep pushin our way te stare each other out!
There’s sixteen a them Hamberleys an they’re a crowd a moochers, always lookin fer trouble. Tha’s why me mammy says I’m te keep away from the lot a them tenement childre an not even look in their direction, certainly not never play wit them.
The school inspector does be kilt tryin te catch them Hamberleys, but they all have him runnin in different directions an he ends up banjacksed. All he can do then is pedal off on his bicycle, but he waves his fist back te warn them! ‘Don’t you worry, me boyos! I’ll be back! I’ll stand yet on Kingsbridge Station an wave you all off as you head down to the four corners of the country! I’ll make it my business to ensure you’ll get sent to the most godforsaken, barren, remotest reformatory this country has to offer. Oh by Jesus see if I don’t! Them Christian Brothers will make men of you, oh by God yes they will! They will make or break you!’ I heard him once warn wit a shake of his head grittin his teeth, then lean over an spit te the ground.
We had all been watchin the goins on, laughin an runnin te see if any a one a them got caught! But tha voice had made me shiver then, an I suddenly gave another shiver now, thinkin about it. Yeah, warnin wit his fist an his eyes starin, slowly sayin he’ll get them yet, one by one he’ll pick them off. Just like now wha they’re tryin te do te me an Ceily – get their hands on us an lock us up.
But it doesn’t worry them Hamberleys. Look at one a them now – him! ‘Nor a bother on him!’ I snarled, givin him a dirty look then turnin away wit me disgust, then I turned an looked back at him again. Tha eegit thinks he’s gorgeous wit Father Flitter’s hat shiverin on his chicken neck, but he’s not! ‘He’s goin te roast in hell fer robbin a holy priest,’ I snorted, starin back at him wit me chin stuck out an me eyes squintin.
Then the real thought hit me an me breath caught in me neck wit the suddenness of it. They robbed the holy priest! Tha’s really a terrible shockin sin, I thought, not able te get over it. ‘You can’t rob a priest, because he’s a God anointed! Done by only God himself,’ I puffed, pushin me breath out hard. ‘Tha fella’s goin te be struck down dead any minute!’
I whipped me head back te see if he was struck. No, he’s not dead yet, he was still there lookin bigger now, wit the hat stickin up in the air. He saw me lookin at him again, an lifted his chest te give me a bigger grin. I was ragin an stuck me tongue out at him, then he leaned forward lettin the hat fall over his eye an stuck out his own tongue back. The crucification cheek a him! He’s not gettin the better a me!
I was just about te cross me eyes an flap me ears at him, because he has cauliflower ears from all the boxin they get, when suddenly he lifted his hand an waved Father Flitters’ stick at me! Me mouth shut tight then dropped open again.
‘You’re goin straight te hell,’ I muttered, leanin me neck out an openin me mouth wide, lettin him see me tongue makin out the words. Then I drew in me breath an looked away feelin satisfied, yeah, an now Father Flitters will kill him! He’ll go straight te the school an drag him out be the neck! I’d love te be there, but I’d hate te be in his shoes! ‘’Cept he doesn’t have any!’ I sniffed, lookin back an liftin me eyebrows wit a dirty smell in me nose, then settled meself te look up now at the priest. Then I blinked an stared up hard at him wit me tryin te think.
He looks different somehow, he doesn’t look himself, I thought, starin him up an down tryin te figure it out. I studied his purple face wit the pair a bulgin eyes, they were starin an blinkin in time te the words comin outa his mouth along wit spits. No, he doesn’t look important now, he looks like someone tha’s well scrubbed an fed, mebbe a mad relative of someone well te do. But then, instead a gettin him locked up, they just let him wander off te go mad on his own. An now he’s causin trouble by bein a danger te himself an a nuisance te the people. Tha’s wha the big people always say, just before they get someone carted away an locked up in Grangegorman, the mad house. Tha’s the place tha sits waitin for them.
I moved in closer shovin me way. I wanted te really study him now, because I didn’t know holy priests went mad.
‘I am taking down names! I have you all well marked!’ he said, pointin at his empty hand. It looked like he lost his notebook as well. ‘Make no mistake about that,’ he croaked, losin his voice because it was gone to a hoarse whisper.
Then someone shouted, ‘Go ahead! Do we look worried?’ laughed Babby Kelly – our local lunatic everyone calls him! ‘An furthermore!’ Babby snorted, wavin the finger, ‘I’ll get me dog te bite the arse offa your dog, Henry, when I next see him! Tha vicious Highland terrier bit the arse offa me, so he did! An you stood an let him, so ye did!’
‘Tut tut! That’s terrible language te be lettin outa yer mouth an he the man anointed!’ someone moaned, clickin their teeth soundin shocked.
I mooched closer te see all the shockin Babby Kelly was doin. He was movin himself in then back, grabbin a hold a his shirt tails lettin the priest get a full blast a shocks. They were comin wit all the insults roarin outa him. Right inta his face they went splatterin spits an all. Then he looked around feelin very important because everyone was laughin. I looked down seein he’d nothin else on but the bare feet an a pair a trousers. He must a ran out after Granny Kelly. He was her growed-up son, but she wouldn’t let him outa the house in tha state, I thought, shakin me head wit the sorrow. He’s an old man, but she still has te mind him because he’s an ‘unfortunate’, me mammy calls him. Tha’s because he’s not all there in the head.
The priest carried on like no one was talkin. ‘You will all be excommunicated,’ he shouted, givin a keenin moan. ‘I will read your names from the pulpit,’ he warned, shakin his finger an snappin it under people’s noses makin their heads follow an their eyes cross.
Then he let a roar whippin his hand at them makin them all duck. ‘Each and every one of you will be named!’ he choked, throwin the head back an takin a fit a coughin.
We all stared up leavin our mouths open, waitin te see if he was goin te make it an get a breath back, or mebbe even suffomacate. But suddenly he got goin again wit a strangumalated gasp.
‘The Bishop will be notified about this!’ he whispered, now shakin the head tryin te get the wind inta him.
Somehow I felt a bit disappointed – I never saw anyone drop down dead before, an I wondered wha it would be like.
‘YEAH! TOO RIGHT! AN WE’LL BE THE FIRST TE DO IT!’ someone shouted from the back. It sounded like Fitzer Mangle the coalman, he hates Father Flitters because they had a big row. It was when the priest came bangin on his door wantin te know why his wife was out an about after gettin her new babby. An she not even ‘Churched’! Tha’s a mortal sin, because when a mammy has a new babby she’s not allowed te even cut a slice a bread until she goes straight te the church to get the priest’s blessin, because she’s a sinner. She didn’t do tha because Fitzer put his foot down an told the priest to fuck off an take him an his sins wit him! We all heard the row. I was about five at the time, an Millie Maypole came rushin te bang on our door an everyone else’s – we were te come quick an see the row, she roared, all excited wit herself.
Father Flitters stopped talkin fer a minute te take him in, then he sniffed an lifted his head openin his mouth an carried on. ‘The Holy Father himself, THE POPE, will hear about this and be utterly scandalized.’ Then he lowered his voice. ‘You have brought the Irish Catholic nation into terri
ble and shameful disrepute! You have dared to lay your hands on one of God’s holy anointed!’ he barked, wavin his finger in the air givin them a sorry warnin, thinkin now it was the Sunday Mass an he up on the altar tellin us all we were goin te burn in hell because we were terrible sinners, because tha’s the way he talks then.
But where’s Ceily? It suddenly hit me! I whipped me head around feelin a scream wantin te roar outa me – it was comin wit a terrible thought. Mebbe they took her? An where’s Mister Mullins an Delia? I couldn’t see a thing wit all the bodies, an the heat an the smell comin outa them was makin me suffomacate, I’m goin te get sick!
‘LET ME OUT! I WANT TE MOVE!’ I roared, throwin me hands out pushin an aul one in a hairy black smelly coat tha was squashin her arse inta me face.
Suddenly there was a roar an we were all milled against the wall.
‘CLEAR THE DOOR! Give this woman safe passage!’
I ducked me head out between two aul ones pullin the coats offa them, sayin, ‘Excuse me, missus!’ But I still couldn’t see past the back of an aul fella, so I kept me head goin, usin it te batter him an gettin him te budge.
‘Stop pushin!’ he roared, lookin around at the two aul ones, then I was down on me hands an knees crawlin through his open legs. ‘HOLY JAYSUS!’ he roared, gettin staggered back inta the chests of the aul ones.
‘MIND YERSELF, YE DRUNKEN AUL EEGIT!’ one a them roared, givin him a clout.
When I squeezed up fer air I could see now it was the cruelty woman – she was collapsed all red-faced wit the eyes half closed an the pancake hat swimmin on the back of her head, it was hangin caught by the nobby pin. She was gettin dragged along half carried out on the arms a two big meaty policemen, she looked bad because she was holdin her chest moanin. The skinny man was trailin behind gettin helped out by another policeman, he was leanin inta him all collapsed an moanin te himself.