Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes(2)

2


The ma gave me a brush an told me te sweep down the stairs. I was delighted. I was sweepin an hammerin the brush against the aul wooden banister an back te the wall again. The brush was makin an awful noise altogether. Dust was flyin everywhere, an I stopped te watch it swirlin an risin inta the air, caught in the rays of light comin in from the street. Lovely! I went back te me work.

Suddenly the holy priest came up the stairs. He was on his way up te see old Mrs Coleman, who was ailin. I carried on wit me work, an he stopped te stare.

‘You’re a grand girl,’ he said.

‘Yes, Father! I’m helpin me mammy, an I’m nearly kilt tryin te get them clean, so I am.’

The priest had a big red face an a big belly. Me ma says tha’s a sign of the good feedin the priests get. He threw back his head an gave a big laugh, then he patted the top of me head.

I was workin so hard when the priest came back down. He could tell, cos I was bangin an hammerin. An ye couldn’t see a thing, cos I had risen so much dust. An I nearly put his eye out, cos I was wavin the brush so much. I was red in the face meself. The priest admired me so much he put his hand in his pockets an took out a load of coppers an gave them te me. I never saw this much money in me life. I dropped the brush on the stairs an flew down te the shops.

I stood lookin in the shop winda, gazin at the gorgeous cakes, tryin te decide if I’ll have a hornpipe cream first, an then back te me coppers te see if they were real. Me head was spinnin! I had te hold me pocket up wit both hands, cos me pocket was torn an the weight of them was great.

Nelly came up behind me, an I said, ‘Look, Nelly! Lookit wha the priest gave me fer sweepin down the stairs.’

Nelly’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah! Will ye give tha te me te buy the dinner?’

‘No! It’s mine!’

‘I’ll buy you a lovely dinner.’

‘What’ll ye get?’

‘Cabbage an potatoes an a bit of bacon. I promise I’ll cook it fer ye’s all. Just think – a lovely dinner!’

I gave her the money, an she went off in great humour. I ran straight home te tell me ma the great news. She sat there lookin an listenin te me until I got te the bit about Nelly.

‘Ah! Did ye give her the money?’

‘Yeah, Ma, she’s gone te get the dinner.’

‘No, she’s not! She’s gone te the pub. She’ll drink it.’

‘But, Ma, she said she’ll be back wit the dinner.’

‘No! She won’t be back till the money’s gone. Why’d ye give her the money? Why didn’t ye hide it an bring it straight up te me?’

‘She wanted it, Ma, fer the dinner.’

‘Ah, stop annoyin me! You an yer dinner. What am I goin te do fer bread an milk? An lookit! The fire’s gone out. I’ve no coal left te boil the kettle.’

I sat down te listen te the silence of the room. Me ma went back te twitchin her mouth an runnin her fingers through her hair, lookin fer lice. So Nelly was only foolin me!





3


I started school today, cos I’m now four. I’m goin te be a scholar. I’m lookin forward te tha. All the big people said they wished they could go back te school, an these are goin te be the best years of me life!

There’s loads of us sittin at desks, tha’s wha they’re called. We have things called inkwells – tha’s wha ye dip yer pen inta an write on a copybook. But we won’t be doin tha now, cos we’re not real scholars yet.

The teacher shouts down at the young fella sittin beside me, cos he’s eatin his chunk of bread an drippin. We’re not supposed te do tha until we get out te the yard at playtime. She bangs this big long stick on the blackboard. ‘Now, pay attention and sit up straight. No! You can’t go to the toilet, you have to learn to ask in Irish,’ she told a young one who was joggin up an down wit her legs crossed. The pooley streamed down her legs, an the young one was roarin her head off. The teacher had te take her out. We could hear her shoes squelchin, cos they were filled wit piss, an her nose was drippin wit snots. When she got back, the teacher went straight te the blackboard. ‘Now!’ she said. ‘We are going to draw a ...’ an when she was finished, she pointed her stick at a young one an said, ‘What is this?’ pointin at the blackboard.

‘A cup an saucer, Teacher,’ squeaked the young one in a hoarse voice.

‘Yes! Good. And all together now ...’

We all shouted up, ‘A cup an saucer!’

But it was dawnin on me slowly I didn’t like this school business at all. I wouldn’t be able te draw a cup an saucer. School was too hard, an I don’t want te be a scholar. When I got home, I raced up the stairs te tell me ma I was now a scholar. I’d learnt everythin an didn’t need te go back te school any more. She was sittin by the fire an looked a bit lonely without me. She had a cup of tea an a saucer sittin on top, wit a slice of Swiss roll on it, warmin by the fire fer me dinner. In honour of the occasion.