by Martha Long
The hearse wit the two midnight-black horses an big black plumes on their head took off slowly, an Mister Mullins’ carriage took off wit it.
Suddenly there was an almighty rumble on the footpath, an people stopped gawkin wit their mouths open an made a stampede fer the cab an horses, the pony an traps, an whatever else they could grab an haul themself inta as they filled up one be one, makin an awful commotion, wit the jarvey roarin an givin out.
‘In here, come on move up make room. We’ll save money wit the one cab.’
‘Ah come on now, missus! Six a youse won’t fit in me cab, wit only enough room fer two normal-sizes people. One a youse is enough te make three! Wha’s more, ye’re damagin me! If youse look down now, ye’s will see, youse have flattened the rubber on me wheels leavin them standin in their rims!’
‘Right!’ they said, then there was another rumble an a lot a rushin up an down wit people choppin an changin, then finally they took off te follow behind.
I watched them all trot off one be one, an stood wavin an gawkin, listenin an smilin, takin it all in enjoyin meself.
I was standin there still wavin, watchin the last a them take off, the only one left behind from the wake, me an the drunk granny standin beside me wit a sour look on her face, then she sniffs wit a bad smell, ‘Lookit them go! Misery loves company, an tha shower a shites is all in good company. Oh miserable load a gits, aren’t they, love? Wouldn’t spend a penny te take us wit them. Wouldn’t mind, but there’s no pockets in a shroud an some a them wit the look a death on them won’t be fuckin comin back! Wouldn’t ye think they’d spend it on us, the old an the young? Fuck them! I hope they fall inta the grave hole,’ she snorted, leanin over te spit on the ground then fixed her shawl, wrappin it around her head tight an said, ‘I’m goin home te me own place. Sure there’s no fire like yer own fire. Fuck them!’ Then she bent her head inta the wind an made her way off.
I watched her go then turned te see everyone scatterin now, all goin home an about their own business. ‘I’m on me own,’ I muttered. ‘How come tha happened again?’
Then I saw the hearse wit the big black horses an their plumes bouncin up an down, they came trottin around the corner an past the house again, you do tha three times, it’s fer the corpse te get a good last look an say goodbye, an fer the neighbours te do the same. They all cover their windas an come an stand on the edge a the footpath an wait, then bow their heads as the funeral procession goes past, then the third time they come, it’s goodbye fer ever!
I watched, takin it all in, feelin very scalded in me heart. It was just like me mammy’s time all over again. Except me an Ceily an Delia, an Mister Mullins, sat in the first cab wit the two horses. It’s bigger than all the rest. Ceily was cryin, but I was just lookin out the winda at all the people standin on the footpath. I waved at me friends from school an Delia gave me a box. ‘Will ye cut tha out! You’re not royalty an we’re not goin on holiday!’ she snapped, holdin me hands in her lap te keep them quiet. Now it’s her turn an we didn’t even know tha. Wha’s worse, there’s only two of us left – me an Mister Mullins. Delia is gone an Ceily is missin.
I watched the hearse comin around fer the third an last time, then it hit me. ‘HEY WAIT FER ME! Wha about me?’ I shouted, runnin like mad wit me hand up gettin outraged, like Father Flitters calls it, it’s at bein left behind. Yeah I’m outraged, I thought, the cheek a them all leavin without me when we let all them come when we had a funeral!
I like the priest’s words, I’m goin te learn them fer when I’m becomin a saint. Then I can say them te the sinners when I’m outraged wit their sinnin!
I shot across the road, right under the hoofs of the big black horses, makin the driver flash his whip, pullin them up.
‘Whoa, whoa! Easy, boys! Wha the fuck?! Are you blind?’ he shouted at me, standin up on the footrest wit the cloak on the shoulder of his long black coat catchin the wind an flyin out behind him.
I stared up at the lovely red-silk linin, then takin in the big tall hat standin on his head. ‘Wha? Oh sorry, mister, but youse are goin without me!’ I complained, then rushed around te the cab seein Mister Mullins stick his head out the winda, shoutin, ‘Come on, you little feckin demon, your mother always said ye had no nerves in yer body, an one day yer darin would get you kilt! Get in here,’ he said, steppin down an haulin me up be me knickers an the collar a me coat, then sendin me flyin te land in the lap a Squinty’s wife, the fat mammy!
‘Here we go again, doin a flyin leap te get inta me arms,’ she laughed, grabbin hold a me an squashin me in between the pair a them. Then we took off, around the corner onta Portland Row, then across Summerhill an onta the North Circular Road.
‘We goin te Glasnevin, where we left Mammy?’ I said, gettin the idea this is where we went before, an knowin the name a the graveyard where we was supposed te have buried me mammy.
Nobody answered. Mister Mullins stared at the brown-leather walls like he was lost in himself, an Squinty an the fat mammy just sighed an stared out the winda, lookin like they was sleepin wit their eyes open. It was the rockin mad of the cab, the springs was very bouncy an we were all like babbies in a rocker, gettin sent off te sleep or lost in our own world. I gor a picture in me head of the men slowly lowerin me mammy in her coffin down inta the big black dark hole. I never left me eyes off it, down it went bit by bit wit the men holdin it back on the rope so as not te topple it. I looked up at their faces seein the heavy rain pour down their caps an land on their nose, then hang an drip wit their eyelashes catchin the water an lettin it hang like sparklin white jewels. Their faces were shiny wit the wet an it trickled down their necks an onta the collar of their long mackintosh oil coats. Their big black wellington boots were thick wit the grey dark mud, an they kept draggin their feet together – it was te stop them slidin an landin Mammy an her coffin crashin te the bottom of the great big black hole. We was soaked te the skin. I looked up te Ceily standin beside me an her face was torn asunder wit the terrible pain an loss a our mammy.
Tha was the only way ye knew she was tearin herself in two wit the cryin, because tha sound was taken away an lost on the wind. Nor even did her face show the tears, it was too busy gettin drownded wit heavy buckets a rain comin down, because the heavens had opened up lettin out all the water te wash away the tears.
But I didn’t cry no, I didn’t. I just stood there without movin. The rain poured down my face too, it soaked me curly hair flattenin it te me scalp turnin me head te ice, but I didn’t move. I wanted te miss nothin, I had te know wha was happenin to my mammy. Me wool coat tha Mammy bought me fer my first Holy Communion last year soaked an sopped inta me, but I didn’t move, no, an I didn’t cry.
‘Because it’s not true,’ I muttered te meself, shakin me head then lookin out the winda. My mammy never died. Big people are always makin mistakes an they’ll see I’m right when she comes home an she’ll be all smilin, laughin because they’re eegits believin she was died.
Now we’re flyin along the big open road of the North Circular, it goes fer a long way, an it’s the road you take when for the graveyard. Behind us I could hear the gallopin hooves of the other horses comin up behind, an I could hear the horsemen shout an give a lash of the whip. ‘Go on! On ye go!’ Wantin te keep up wit our two black horses tha were tearin along wit their necks strained te keep up wit the two big black stallions pullin the shiny black hearse carryin Delia inside her coffin.
All the horses were tearin along, an the hooves were now makin flyin sparks crashin out from under the steel shoes ridin on the hoof of the dashin horses. Poor Delia, I wonder when she sat next te Ceily an me in our funeral carriage if we could have warned her by sayin, ‘Delia, be careful! Because next time we come along this road you will be lyin in a coffin inside a hearse bein pulled along by two great big black stallions, an they will have plumes dancin on their head. Just like Mammy is now.’ Or … no, not my mammy!
We got te the top a the road an now turned right onta Dorset Street, then left
, up the Whitworth Road wit the canal on our left. The horses trotted now slowin down te take in the sights an enjoy it at our ease. But the carriage rocked so much people were nearly asleep wit their necks shakin an their heads wobblin, but their eyes were closin like they was enjoyin it.
Now we turned right wit the Brian Boru pub on the left an kept goin. I was starin out lookin at the shop windas wit their cardboard pictures showin the Bisto Kids – they were followin the smell a gravy sittin on roast meat an potatoes, wit it takin them all the way home! They’ll have a mammy waitin fer them when they get back there, an brothers an sisters an even a home te go to. No one will have robbed tha, I shook me head thinkin. Then another thought came, how can ye lose your fambily? I wondered, how did it come te happen to me? I don’t understand tha, I just don’t!
Suddenly we heard the horseman drivin the hearse up ahead let out a roar. ‘GO ON, BERTIE! GO ON, SAMSON! SHIFT, ME LOVELY BOYS!’ Then a lash a the whip.
Wit tha our carriage suddenly rocked an heaved, endin balancin on its two back wheels as our driver did the same – let out a roar wit the lash of a whip. ‘COME ON, ROSIE! GET GOIN, DAISY!’ Then the cab rocked back onta four wheels an we took off into an all-out gallop.
‘KEEP THEM OUT, WALLY! DON’T LET THE FUCKERS IN!’ roared the horseman drivin the hearse, wit him shoutin back at our fella.
‘Wha’s happenin?’ breathed Fat Mammy, leppin up in the seat wit the eyeballs burstin outa her head.
‘Dunno!’ said Squinty, leanin te take a look out the winda wit one eye closed blockin the blindin light, but sure the sky is pitch black.
‘Ah it’s a race,’ said Mister Mullins, the first te see the black hearse flyin up beside us wit two horses frothin at the mouth, an the driver, he was standin wit the reins gathered in one hand an lashin away wit a long whip in the other. He gave a quick look over at us at our driver, then I leaned me head out, seein our driver do the same.
He stood up an lashed the two horses wit them flyin, they were gallopin all out now, keepin neck te neck. I looked back seein the cab behind wit the driver standin shoutin himself hoarse, he was tryin te get his horse te fly. It was a tinchy tiny grey thing an its little legs was flyin like pistons, but the carriage was takin its time, barely movin.
‘GO ON, ME LITTLE BEAUTY!’
So he did, he flew the little legs wit the head hammerin up an down stretchin the neck, he was desperate wantin te keep up.
‘THA’S IT! Show them big overfed mutants how te do it!’ screamed the jarvey, all delighted he was doin grand, but his shout came out in a croak because his voice was gone.
I looked seein he was a tiny little aul fella an I wondered if he was a midget, because he’s very small an the two a them match, him an the horse. Yeah, I think he might be a midget!
I could see the rest of our funeral procession was comin up fast behind him, nearly wantin te pass him out! An right beside us was the other procession flyin up behind their hearse.
‘There’s an awful load a horse traffic an they’re all comin up behind us in an awful hurry,’ warned Mister Mullins, not lookin too happy.
‘Fuck me!’ Squinty suddenly said, gettin ragin. ‘Them lot will get us kilt wit their racin, an all because they want te get ahead of each other in the queue fer the gravediggers!’
‘Oh, now, not such a bad thing, less time for drinking if we spend it sitting behind each other in a bloody queue,’ said Mister Mullins wit a half-smile on his face lookin from Fat Mammy te Squinty, then they laughed.
Squinty leapt up an stuck his head out the winda, shoutin, ‘Go on, show them!’ Roarin at the driver te get the horses te go faster.
I leapt fer the other winda wantin tha fer meself, but Fat Mammy hauled hersef onta her feet, sayin, ‘Give us a look.’ She laughed, then put her arms around me an leaned the pair of us out far, holdin onta me tight.
‘LOOK, MORE!’ I shouted, seein more hearses an funerals flyin towards us from the other direction.
Suddenly I felt like I was in the middle of one big terrible sensation. Tha’s wha Mammy calls it when ye’re stuck in the middle a the road ready te get kilt. The speed wit things flyin past an the jerkin of me insides, the roars a people all shoutin an laughin an cursin an spittin when the other side got close enough. The sound of horses’ hooves clashin an crashin on the sett stones, an the clinkin a harness an the tumblin wheels a the carriages rumblin over the black stone road. An the smell a sweat from the backs of the horses, you can see the white foam of it turnin the black coats on their skin a shiny wet.
‘Jesus it’s like the devil on horseback flyin te hell,’ muttered Mister Mullins, leanin out te take in the great race we were havin.
‘Whose winnin?’ I shouted, pushin me voice out in a whisper. I was afraid te breathe, because somethin was tellin me we could all be kilt stone dead.
‘They’re mad. They’re all mad, these horsemen drivers! They won’t give an inch,’ muttered Fat Mammy, half-laughin but lookin worried wit the eyes pained.
I watched us comin closer, gettin very close te the big entrance gates of Glasnevin Cemetery, wit all of us tearin towards each other.
‘Who is goin to make it through the gates first?’ muttered Fat Mammy, keepin her head movin first one way, lookin quick beside us at the hearse still tryin te get past us.
I could hear the heavy snorts of the two horses tearin their hearts out runnin beside us so close, I could reach out an stroke their necks if it wasn’t a dizzy speed. I could see the spray of white misty water blowin outa their nostrils, it was makin a white hood around their brown heads, an the white creamy foam hangin out, caught between the steel bit in their mouth. I could hear the springs an see the carriage rockin fast, very fast, goin from side te side. The carriage door was so close I could see the dents on the silver handle, an I could, if I had a mind, reach out an open it now because we were at matchin speed.
Then it suddenly rocked swingin smack at us, nearly takin the nose offa me face. I screamed an bucked back, hittin me head against the side a Fat Mammy’s head as she pulled the pair of us back. It was so sudden, we crashed against Mister Mullins an Squinty, nearly topplin them outa their winda wit the weight an speed of us.
‘Ah ohh, me back,’ she moaned.
‘Me head,’ I squealed.
‘Me legs is broke!’ screamed Squinty.
‘OH, HOLY SHITE!’ shouted Mister Mullins, gettin squashed up against the corner wit his nose pressed inta the leather wall.
‘Get us up!’ shouted Fat Mammy.
‘Get yerself up offa me, I can’t move, ye fat cow,’ whined Squinty, moanin an keenin soundin like he was painin te death wit his stuffin knocked out.
I twisted meself out from under the right hip a Fat Mammy an pressed me hand on her belly, throwin me right leg over her. Then I shoved me left knee on her chest an hauled meself up, givin her a clout a me hand on her nose an face.
‘Ger offa me! Ye’re killin me, Lily Carney!’ she shouted, givin me a push tha sent me flyin te land on me arse beside the door.
I threw me big mop a curls back offa me face an looked over givin a big blow te get rid a the hair stuck te me nose ticklin it. I could see they was all still tangled.
‘We’re still alive,’ I puffed, gettin ripples runnin through me, feelin the wheels tumblin like mad under me arse an flyin sparks wantin te set it on fire.
‘Stay down,’ Mister Mullins said te me, then leaned down grabbin the shoulder a Fat Mammy, sayin, ‘Move over, I don’t know where the fuck is best to be safest. What’s these fuckers up to?’
‘Can I get up an see, Mister Mullins?’
‘No, stay there, ye’re safer, it looks like that hearse got ahead an now we’re definitely ridin wit death, racin him all the way te hell! If this carriage crashes or turns over, Squinty, our best bet is lyin flat out, take the seats an the floor. It gives us a fightin chance te roll away runnin when we hit the ground,’ he said, then he looked out seein somethin just ahead, an suddenly, without warnin he was tak
in a flyin dive an grabbed me up onta the seat, then he threw himself down lyin flat out on his belly wit me buried under him.
Then everythin slowed down an things was burstin apart, the carriage rocked an swayed on its side, then it turned an rolled an I could hear the squeak an creak of wheels bucklin an wood breakin, I could hear the complainin snortin of horses gettin a fright, then their hooves slippin an the thud of heavy bodies hittin an slidin across the wet shiny black hard stones cut inta the road. Then the screams of these horses, an suddenly it was now all mixed wit the piercin screams of people gettin terrible tortured pain, then the quiet moans of others wit not the strength te scream or roar or shout. Then mercy, the rushin merry-go-round of things spinnin an us flyin an the dust an dirt of it, an all mixed wit the sound of screamin an snortin an people’s agonized moans seemed te die, then we were come to a stop.
19
I WAS LYIN on somethin hard wit my ears roarin an a stillness in me mind watchin an waitin, it was fer a sensation flyin through me an all around me body te start doin somethin, start painin me. The world stood still an I waited wonderin why it was so dark, there was somethin pressin down on me. Then it came, not wit pain but a terrible tightness, I couldn’t get a breath! I was gaggin, tryin te get me wind. Someone came scrabblin on their knees, pullin stuff offa me, it was bits a the roof an the winda wrapped around me chest.
‘There’s a child under here! She’s blue, she’s not breathin!’ a man said, lookin straight inta me eyes.
I stared back wantin te tell him the terrible fright I’m in, an all about me terrible worries. But I could only talk wit me eyes borin inta him. Help me, mister, please help me get a breath! Oh don’t let me go an die like Delia! Just get me up an let me walk.
He pulled me out an lifted me sittin up restin in his arms. My body jerked wit me head goin up an down tryin te find a breath, but nothin came. Then he started te rub me back whisperin inta me face very soft. ‘Easy, shush,’ he says, lettin it out in a long easy breath, the air makin its way comin inta me open mouth. ‘Easy there easy, little one, shush come on, you’re safe in my arms now, just let it come.’