by Martha Long
‘Well, well, well! Look at the state of you! You look now like a pauper wit no rearin, in threadbare order. Well isn’t tha interestin now,’ he laughed, leanin himself comfortable restin his chin on his arms spread on the saddle of his bike. His eyes was starin inta me face an I didn’t like it, so I dropped me head an looked down at the ground.
‘Here you are, the young one of tha hag Mary Carney! Thought she was too good fer everyone, tha one. Now look wha happened te her spawn. She’s now gone, dead an buried planted, pushin up daisies an offerin her rotten carcass as food fer the worms! What’s her young one doin? It’s now left standin outside a pub – no better, no different from any other dirty paupers walkin the streets a this city,’ he said, liftin his head te give a big spit. ‘The ones tha sit outside waitin fer their da’s te come out so they can whine, until they take the last few pence sittin in the man’s pocket, then run back te their rats’ nest of a home, an hand it over to the lazy whore sittin on her arse by the fire.’
I didn’t like the angry way he was talkin an sayin terrible things about my mammy. An as well as tha, it wasn’t nice wha he was sayin about other childre’s mammies. It’s true the childre, they always look dirty an have disease an no shoes on their feet. Mammy would often make a sambidge or keep somethin over an give it te the childre sittin outside the pubs where we live, because she knew them. They was from the tenements. But then she would say, ‘Don’t let me catch you playin around wit them tenement childre, Lily Carney, or I will take the skin off yer arse! You’ll catch disease!’ So I don’t understand tha bit. Anyway, I haven’t got me feet bare an me head is not shaved an all covered in sores, so I’m not really like them, just a bit! I know I haven’t had a wash fer a long while now, but still an all, I’m not filthy dirty. Me hair is just matted a bit, I thought, then I lifted me hand from behind me back an suddenly gave a push sendin him flyin an rushed meself inta the pub standin just inside the door. He went flyin backwards because he wasn’t expectin tha. I just lost me rag without me even knowin it! I was shiverin an shakin wit the fright, an people came rushin over te pick him up an shout at me.
‘You little animal!’ a woman roared at me. ‘Wha did ye go an do tha for? I saw you! I was a witness,’ she said wit her eyes narrowin, lookin at me like I was a vicious dog.
‘Are you OK?’ a man said, helpin Mister Lawrence offa the ground an steadyin him, then bendin down te pick up his bicycle.
‘Here, there’s your hat, put it on yer head,’ a woman said, pickin it up from where it blew on the side a the road.
‘No! Get tha young one over here. I’m takin her home! She refused te come when I tried te take her!’ he said, rubbin the back of his head wit the face gone snow-white an his eyes waterin up all shiny, they had a glassy look in them an he was starin at me. I don’t like the look a them eyes, he’s goin te hurt me!
‘Here! Come on, you, behave yerself! Go wit yer father an stop yer carryin on!’ the aul one said, grabbin hold a me an pushin me inta him, waitin wit his hand out te grab hold a me arm.
‘Lemme go! MISTER MULLINS! Help me! No don’t send me wit him!’ I shouted, as he tried te pull me after him.
‘Go on go! You cheeky little cur!’ the aul one shouted after me as her scarf slipped off lettin her fluffy grey hair escape, it blew inta the air an waved around her head freezin the bare skin wit all the bald patches.
I let meself go an landed on me back lettin him pull me along wit me arse skiddin, tearin inta the ground. ‘No, no! He’s not me da! I don’t have a da!’
‘Hey, mister! Wha’s happenin?’ shouted a load a kids rushin along pushin a babby’s big pram without the babby.
‘Oh lookit! Just guess who it is, everyone? It’s dirty Larry from our school, the one wit the rushin hands an roamin fingers! Hey, Mister Lawrence, wha you doin wit tha young one?’
‘Help, he’s tryin te take me away!’ I shouted.
‘Oh lookit! He’s doin a kidnap! Tha’s not his young one! He’s not married,’ they shouted, all runnin over an pointin the finger at me.
‘NO I’m not I don’t belong te him! Oh yeah ye’re right! Please save me! He’s wantin te take me off, he’s goin te hurten me!’
‘Wha? What’s tha you just said?’ the woman tha picked up his hat said, liftin back the shawl tha covered her ear so she could hear better.
‘Is tha right?’ said the man who helped him, now lookin shocked an movin over closer te hear better, wha’s happenin.
‘Liars! You bloody shower a pig-ignorant paupers the lot a youse!’ screamed Mister Lawrence, gettin in a rage.
‘I know who tha is! Tha’s Lily Carney,’ said a young one. ‘My little sister Lola is in her class at school.’
Me heart leapt wit the excitement.
‘Oh yeah, I know her too te see. They live in Summerhill!’
‘LET HER GO!’
‘YEAH, LET HER GO!’ the childre shouted.
‘Get the police!’ shouted the granny.
‘Get help! Get someone te help the child, he had me fooled!’ shouted the woman.
‘Poxy bastards!’ Mister Lawrence snorted, givin me a kick in the arse when I’m still lyin on the ground, then throwin his fist at the childre swearin. ‘I’ll see youse in hell first fer this!’ he shouted, turnin green then blue wit shock, an leppin his leg over the bike pedallin off like mad.
‘Wha happened? How did all this come te happen?’ the childre asked wit their eyes bulgin, an outa breath, then swarmin around me wit excitement.
‘Yeah, wha was tha about, love?’ the woman tha picked up his hat said, bendin inta me.
But before I could open me mouth, the grey-haired woman wearin the scarf said, lookin like she was nearly cryin, ‘Sorry, I’m so very sorry! I come along when you were just tryin te save yerself. An wha do I do? I nearly end up handin you over as his Christmas dinner! Oh Jesus, the thought of it!’ she said, puttin her hand on her face an droppin her head, goin all shocked. ‘You poor little infant, havin te be matched against a big monster of a terror like tha animal! Come here te me!’ she said, grabbin hold an squashin me inta her bony chest, strokin me head.
I could get the smell a cabbage an onions, an stale tobacco an porter, it was pourin up me nostrils an smotherin me. ‘He tried te take me!’ I sobbed, tryin te cry but I couldn’t get it out now. I was feelin too happy wit everyone savin me from gettin a terrible hurtin from Mister Lawrence. He never liked me since me mammy hurted him. He always gave me a dirty look outa the corner of his eye, like he was a dog afraid a me, but at the same time he wanted te get his teeth in an do me damage.
‘Where’s he now?’ a man said just after stoppin te listen.
‘There he goes! Headin fer the Phisborough Road,’ shouted the woman, fixin the scarf on her head an tightenin it.
We all turned an watched him flyin his way in an outa the traffic, he was tryin te make distance an lookin in a shockin hurry.
‘Yeah, the coward, the dirty animal, a danger to all little innocents,’ she said. ‘He should a been drownded at birth!’
‘Well, the only answer fer the like a him!’ the granny said, stretchin herself up an tightenin the shawl under her chin, the eyes narrowin wit a rage. ‘Someone should do a job on him wit a razor blade! That’s the cure we have fer the likes a him!’
‘The very thing!’ said the man who stopped te listen. ‘Let the animal gang play wit him, they’ll sort tha fucker out good an proper,’ he snorted, then he laughed.
‘Anyone know where he lives?’ the man who helped him suddenly said, turnin around an lookin at me an the rest a the childre.
‘No, but we know where he works!’ the young fella pushin the pram said, pullin it over an takin a big breath heavin his chest out before shoutin up givin all the information.
‘Lovely, thanks, son!’ the man said, then he nodded at the woman givin her a smile an did the same wit everyone else, noddin his head an closin his eyes then openin them, sayin, ‘Tut tut tha child was very lucky!’ Then he shook his head a
n gave a wave goodbye.
‘I better move too, I left the dog sittin be the fire on his own. He’s goin te be wonderin where I got to!’ said the granny starin an thinkin about it, gettin very worried.
‘Yeah, funny you should say tha, but I’ve been out all day an I went early, up te Mary Street te get a few things, an look at me! The night pitch-black an I still not home, an now I’m kilt worryin about me husband’s dinner an me—’
‘I know! Where does the time get to?’ interrupted the granny, wantin te get her say in fast. ‘It’s the older you get, I think we’re gettin short changed be the clock. It’s goin like the clappers, gettin sick of lookin at the same faces an wants rid of us!’ she complained.
‘Ah no but wait!’ said the scarf woman, puttin her hand on the granny’s arm wantin te tell her story. ‘Wha I was goin te say was me poor budgie, Bluey he’s called. I put him out this early mornin te catch the bit a sun. Sure I went out leavin him sittin on the windasill, an Holy Jesus te night! He’s still out there, missus! By now he should be frozen solid into a block of ice! I better run!’
‘Yeah goodbye!’ they said, givin a quick wave, then took off hurryin in different directions. We watched them go, then turned te look at each other.
‘Where you goin, Lily Carney?’ said the big young one who knows me wit the little sister.
‘I’m waitin fer Mister Mullins an his friends te come outa the pub. They was at a funeral.’
‘Yeah, so was my ma, an they came te this place. A neighbour turned home an came up to our door te warn us te bring the pram, because our ma needs it. She’s mouldy drunk an this is the only way we can get her home.’
‘Yeah, an we all came te give Bisto a hand. Didn’t we, Bisto?’
‘Yeah! Youse are me best pals!’
‘Don’t mind them. They’re only hopin te get a few coppers outa the drunks when they come reelin outa the pub,’ snorted the big young one, throwin back her head te lift the big mass of orange hair tumblin down, coverin her eyes.
‘Let’s wait! It should be throwin-out time any minute now!’ Bisto said, bringin the pram over an pressin it against the wall fer us all te lean an wait.
‘Let’s hope she doesn’t break the springs again!’ said a young fella wit a half-laugh on his face but then lookin worried.
‘Nah! If she does, we’ll have te carry her.’
‘Jaysus, not me! Your ma’s not light like a feather!’ said a young fella wit dirty blond hair an a black snotty nose.
We watched the door wit us risin up alert every time it opened te let someone out, but then dropped when it was only a stranger tha staggered out, not one a ours. Then we heard the big brass bell bongin like mad just as the doors blew open, we watched as the man wit the apron shot his head out givin us a look, then flew it around, shoutin.
‘TIME’S UP, EVERYONE! Men, get yer spurs an ride tha horse right outa here, get yer womenfolk an start te roll them wagons!’ he shouted, clappin his arse an roarin it out then givin a hop like he was ridin a horse.
‘Tha aul fella fancies himself, he thinks he’s a bleedin cowboy in the fillums,’ muttered Bisto.
‘Move back, you scavengers!’ the cowboy aul fella roared, throwin his head wit the thumb pointed then movin towards us, makin us grab the pram an shift ourselves.
We moved back even further when the drunks piled out all hangin tight together so they wouldn’t fall down.
‘Oh me darlins! Oh me darlins,’ croaked two aul fellas havin a sing-song as they flew fer the wall landin together in a heap.
‘Where we are?’ one said, liftin his head te get a look around just as a pile more came out an a voice shouted, ‘Neddy Knowles! Get up, ye dirty sod, you never kiss me like tha!’
Then three bodies all linked together an laughin their heads off tripped an poured down on top a them.
‘Oh this is lovely!’ someone said.
‘Oh mind where ye’re puttin tha hand!’ someone complained.
‘Oh give us a push up quick, I need te do me piss!’ moaned a fat woman lyin on top a the heap.
‘Rosie Parson, don’t even think a lettin a piss drown down on me!’ roared a voice buried underneath.
Then suddenly the cowboy grabbed hold, shoutin, ‘Come on, youse have beds fer tha carry-on! This is not Biddy Bangers knockin shop youse are in!’
‘Hey let’s go! Tha’s my ma, she’s here!’ shouted Bisto, grabbin up the pram an givin it a shake wit the brake comin off, then flyin it over te stop beside the heap.
‘Ma, ma! Come on ger up! I brought the transport lookit! We have the pram fixed! Can ye ger up? Come on, gang, give us a hand wit me ma!’
‘Which one’s your ma?’ said the cowboy, wit two aul ones wrapped around his neck.
‘Tha’s my ma there,’ Bisto said, grabbin hold of a huge mammy wit the hair swingin an the arse in the air, tryin te haul herself up.
‘Grab her legs, Ammo. I’ll hold under her arms, an we’ll all haul her inta the pram,’ sniffed Bisto, tryin te catch an lick a snot swingin outa his nose. ‘Mona, you hang onta me ma’s middle an we’ll ease her in!’
‘No just swing her in,’ shouted Ammo.
‘Fuck off! Youse will only break her doin tha!’
‘Ah hold it! Give us a hand, Lily! The weight’s killin!’ shouted Mona, lookin like an English sheepdog wit the hair buryin her face.
The huge mammy opened one eye seein the childre grippin hold, tryin te cart her. ‘Ah, me lovely treasures! Not a word of a lie! I’d die fer you! I swear te the livin Jesus an all above! Oh fuck, wait!’ she said, lowerin her voice, then we heard a grunt an a splashin hit the ground. ‘I need te do me piss,’ she said, lettin it out on a long breath.
Then I got a smell just as I felt somethin hot hittin me boot. ‘Ahhh!’ We all screamed. ‘SHE’S PISSIN!’
‘YEAH! RIGHT ON FUCKIN TOP A ME!’ bawled Mona, lettin go an droppin her right te the ground hittin her arse.
‘Now look wha youse done,’ moaned Bisto, lettin his end down gently, sloppin right inta the pool a piss.
‘Oh the smell!’ we all said, holdin our nose gettin ourselves away.
Bisto stared down at his ma lookin like he wanted te cry. ‘Ah fuck it, why did ye have te go an do tha for, Ma?’ he said mutterin te himself, because his ma closed her eyes goin off te sleep wit a contented smile on her face.
‘Come on, we have te get her home,’ he cried, creasin his face but there was no tears.
‘No, Bisto. Ye can go an get yerself stuffed, I’m not comin next or near your ma. She stinks,’ complained Ammo.
‘Yeah, an my ma is goin te kill me when she gets the smell a me an sees me coat an frock all destroyed!’ complained Mona, shakin her head lookin an smellin the sleeve a her coat, then cryin at the state she’s in.
I looked down seein the mammy only got me in the one boot, because I wasn’t really near her. No, I was only pretendin te lift wit me hands out.
‘Do youse want a hand, childre, te get yer mother up?’ said a man wit a red face an only half drunk, wit his wife standin next te him holdin onta his arm, linkin it.
‘Yeah oh yeah, will you please, mister?’ Bisto said, wipin his snots wit the dirty sleeve of his man’s jacket. It was greasy as hell an miles too big fer him.
‘Hey, give us a hand, fellas!’ the man said, lettin go of his wife then throwin the arm at a crowd a men staggerin outa the pub all singin their hearts out.
They didn’t hear a word an held tight linkin arms, dancin to a song. ‘I’M A RAMBLER, I’M A GAMBLER, I’M A LONG WAY FROM HOME! AN IF YOU—’
‘Eh, misters! Give us a few coppers! Will youse?’ shouted Ammo, rushin over te dance in front a them, tryin te get them te stop.
But they just laughed an kept goin, makin him dance backwards. ‘NOW MOLLY FLYNN SHE HAD A TWIN—’
‘Fuck youse!’ shouted the half-drunk man an bent te pick up the huge mammy himself. ‘Heave!’ he shouted, draggin her be the feet, then tryin te get her standin up straight, te land her in
the pram.
The man wit the apron turned his head away from tryin te push everyone out the door an keep them movin, then turned te the man, sayin, ‘Hang on! I’ll give you a hand.’
Wit tha, he hurried over an grabbed her legs givin her a big swing, sendin her sittin smack inside the pram.
‘Grand!’ the apron man grunted, slappin his hands together then sayin, ‘I think she’s wedged in there, ye might have a bit of a job tryin te get her out. But my advice is, when you get her home leave her there te sleep it off. Then bejaysus, be the time she wakes up in tha state, she’ll get herself out in a fine hurry, never you fear, son! Now go on, all of you, get home an inta bed the lot a ye’s, it’s too late te be walkin the streets at this hour. You’ll only get picked up by the peelers.’
‘Thanks, misters, youse are very good!’ Bisto said all happy.
Then everyone got behind the pram an they heaved an pushed, gettin it movin, then they were on their way.
‘Mister, I’m waitin on Mister Mullins an his friends. Can ye tell me, please, when they’re comin out? I’m waitin here the day long, will ye go an see fer me?’ I said, lookin up at the apron man, not afraid now, because I was desperate.
‘Hang on, I’ll go in an see.’
I waited watchin the door seein more an more people comin, but no sign of the apron man or Mister Mullins. Me nerves was goin an I was hoppin up an down tryin te keep the cold out, an stop the nerves worryin me.
‘No! Not here, you must a missed them. There’s no Mullins in this place now, nor anyone knowin him. Ye better go home fast!’ he said, lookin after the other childre all pushin the mammy tryin te get her across the road without all gettin kilt stone dead. They were pushin fer all their worth, but only gettin across slowly, it was the heavy weight a the pram. I could see their heads all lookin up an down, they were watchin out fer traffic tha might come in the dark appearin outa nowhere, an they still stuck in the middle a the road.