Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes(193)

‘What would you like to be when you grow up, Martha?’ he asked me, smilin.

I didn’t know wha te say, the only thing I knew was tha I wasn’t goin te be like me ma! So I said, ‘I don’t know, yer honour.’

‘Would you like to be a teacher?’

How could I be tha? I thought. I’ve never been te school! ‘No, yer honour.’

‘A Bean Gardai?’

I thought about tha, after all the times I was arrested. Me, a lady policeman? ‘No, yer honour!’

‘A nurse, then?’ the judge asked me, smilin.

I got a picture of meself goin up an down, shinin me lamp inta the faces of the injured soldiers groanin in pain, an me fixin them up an givin them a peaceful night’s sleep. Just like Florence Nightingale in the comics I read. ‘Yeah! Yes, yer honour. I’d love te be a nurse.’ I shook me head up an down, wishin I could get started straight away.

‘Yes, indeed,’ the judge said, smilin an shakin his head up an down agreein wit me. ‘I think you should be educated. I am going to send you to a convent where you will be educated. And I must stress, this child is not being sent there as a punishment!’ He looked up at the people. ‘I am not sending her as a punishment. I am sending her there for an education. And I shall make this as part of the order.’ He looked aroun at the people te make sure they understood, then he started writin. ‘She will remain at this industrial school until she reaches the age of sixteen.’

The room went foggy, an I couldn’t hear or take anythin in. There’s a roarin in me ears, an everyone seems te be movin aroun. The detective who charged me gets up smilin an pullin up his trousers. An the little man wit the black gown rushes over te me an takes me arm, handin me over te another man who brings me down the stairs, an down more stairs, an opens a door an brings me inta a room wit a winda high up an bars on it. ‘Sit down there an wait!’ he says.

Jackser an me ma appears in the door, an the man goes out an locks the door behind him. ‘Wha’s happenin?’ me ma asks, lookin at me an then Jackser, her eyes wide an starin.

‘She’s goin away!’ Jackser says, sittin down in front of me.

‘Fer how long?’ me ma asks, shocked.

‘Until she’s sixteen!’

Me ma looks at the wall, thinkin, tryin te take this in.

Then Jackser looks at me, then looks at the door te make sure no one is listenin, an leans inta me, sayin, ‘Say nothin! Keep yer mouth shut. Don’t tell them anythin! An she comes down wit me if ye do! I won’t be doin time on me own. Tha aul one is up te her neck in it. Just you remember tha. An I’ll be waitin outside them gates fer ye when they release ye at sixteen. An ye know wha will happen te ye. I’d only get two years at the most. An I’d be well out before tha wit time off fer good behaviour. But them kids will be locked up fer years. An prison would kill yer mammy. So remember tha an tell no one nothin. Do ye get tha?’ an he poked me in the chest wit his finger.

‘Yeah!’ I said, not carin any more.

Me ma stared stony-faced at the wall. ‘So tha’s tha, then!’ she kept mutterin.

‘Tha’s it!’ Jackser said, wit a sour face. ‘No more fuckin money.’

Me ma gave me a dirty look. She was ragin, as if I had made the judge send me away.

‘No! We’re fucked now,’ Jackser said. ‘Tha just leaves the Charlie fella, an he’s useless. Good fer nothin. No, we can’t depend on him.’

I sat starin. I’m goin te be locked up! Put away! An me ma won’t even look at me. She’s bothered cos I won’t be bringin her things, or doin everythin she wants me te do fer her. I feel like I’m completely on me own. I’m only good fer doin things fer them. Now I’m no use any more, me ma’s not bothered about me. I felt meself goin cold, an I stared at them. Somehow, Jackser reminded me of a big young fella tha went aroun robbin the little kids, takin all their stuff. An a big young fella has put a stop te his gallop, an now he has te fend fer himself. An he’s feelin lost an disappointed, cos he’s not so brave or smart at all. An he can’t play the big man any more, cos he’s had his little army of one, me, snatched away from him. An now his game is over. An he’s afraid of his life he’s goin te get found out. He’s only a good-fer-nothin waster. An a coward. He’s not a man.

I turned away from him in disgust an looked at me ma. She was still starin at the floor an wouldn’t even look at me. If she’d only say, ‘I’ll miss ye, Martha. I’m sorry ye’re goin away.’ But no! Her eyes are like two marbles, her mouth is clamped tight, an her face could be made a stone. There’s no mammy in her. Just some young one tha trails aroun after her friend, hopin she’ll get somethin, doin wha she’s told an wantin her friend te mind her cos she’s too simpleminded te look after herself. An she doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else. Well, fuck you, Sally! Ye’re on yer own!