‘That’s enough now,’ the woman said, slappin her hand on the table.
Yer one beside me slid off down the bench, takin her copybook an chewed pencil. ‘I’m not sittin beside ye, ye fuckin eejit!’
‘An fuck you, too!’ I said back. An then we all said prayers, an the women brought me back.
I started school again this mornin, round in Gardiner Street. It’s down a lane, an it’s run by the nuns. The classroom is very big. We have first an second class in the room. I’m sittin at the back, an the nun walks up an down between the rows of desks an talks an checks te see wha the childre are doin. She writes things on a blackboard. But I don’t know wha’s goin on, so I just sit there lookin aroun me, an I’m dazed. All the other childre are busy doin somethin, but I do nothin. At lunch time, the sister calls me over an says me mammy is waitin fer me in the lane. When I get there, me ma hands me a billy can an says I’m te go inta the dinner house an get a can of stew. The sister will give it te me, cos me ma already spoke te her.
I collect the stew from the women servin behind the counter, an I don’t have te pay the penny. I don’t have te queue long behind the other poor people, cos the nun comes in an takes the can offa me an gives it te the woman te fill. An then I run home wit it an then rush back te school. The bell is ringin just as I arrive, an I find me line an go back inta class.
I’m feelin tired now, an me head is beginnin te ache. The watery sun is comin in the winda an shows all the dust floatin aroun the room. It feels hot an stuffy, an I can’t make out wha people are sayin. It’s just a buzzin noise in me head, an I give up tryin te understand what I’m supposed te be doin an put me head down in me hands an fall asleep on the desk.
Today, they sent a big young one te come over an sit beside me. She has a blackboard an chalk. ‘Now,’ she says, an starts te write. ‘One plus one equals?’ an looks at me an waits. I don’t know wha she’s talkin about, so I just look. ‘Equals two,’ she says. ‘Now again,’ but I still don’t know, an after a while she gets fed up an says, ‘Do ye not know any sums?’
‘No!’ I say.
‘OK,’ she says. ‘Do ye know the alphabet?’
‘Wha’s tha?’ I ask.
‘Jaysus, ye don’t know anythin, then! Can ye count yer money?’ she asks. ‘Wha do ye do when yer mammy sends ye te the shop?’
‘I get the messages,’ I said, hopin she’d think I was grand, but she didn’t.
‘Ah, ye’re too stupid,’ she said. An then she ignored me an started te draw.
‘Wha’s that?’ I asked.
‘It’s a cat.’
‘No, it’s not! A cat doesn’t look like tha,’ I said. ‘You can’t draw, ye’re pure stupid,’ an she gave me a slap of the blackboard.
The nun came runnin down an waved her stick at her. ‘I’m shocked!’ the nun said. ‘I thought you were a responsible girl. That’s why I put you in charge of Martha. You were supposed to help her, not hit her!’
‘But I was helpin her, Sister, an cos she doesn’t know anythin she started te call me names!’
‘I didn’t, Sister,’ I said. ‘She said I was pure stupid!’
‘No, I didn’t, you said tha,’ the young one said, an then she started te cry.
The whole class turned on me then an said I was terrible. So the nun turned te the class an put her fingers up te her mouth an said, ‘The next one who speaks will be kept back after school.’ Then she told the blackboard one te go out te the tilet an blow her nose. An she looked at me an smiled, an put her hand on me head an said in a whisper, ‘Be a good little girl for Sister, won’t you, Martha?’
An I said in a whisper, ‘Yes, Sister, I’ll be very good fer ye.’ An I sat there fer the rest of the day lookin up at her an wishin she was me mammy!
This mornin, when we were gettin ready te go out te our break, everyone was shoutin. So Sister said we were te be very quiet. We all stood up an someone gave their seat an unmerciful bang. Sister asked, ‘Who did that?’ An nobody answered. So she said we were goin te wait until the person responsible owned up on their honour. But nobody owned up on their honour. So we waited. The young one in the next row beside me is always annoyin me. She has a Cleopatra hairstyle an she always stares over at me until I look at her, then she makes a face at me an flicks her hair wit her hand an turns away. I can’t flick me hair back at her, cos it’s too short an stands up like straw. Me hair is still growin back from when I had the sores an me ma had te cut it. ‘I’m tellin it was you,’ she whispers.