Remember O most gracious Virgin Mary that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection implored thy help or sought thy intercession was left unaided inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee O virgin of virgins my mother To thee do I come before thee I stand sinful and sorrowful. Oh Mother of the word incarnate despise not my petition but graciously hear and answer me. Amen.
August comes.
And when you come back that last day there’s envelopes. Two on the window ledge get damp with condensation she says exciting look at this for you. You tear them. It’s the start of the end of this life. Well it seems so. Then. Maths F Irish E English E History E Geography E Chemistry Incomplete. Oh love I’m sorry. It’s not that that counts you say. So that one’s that but one the next. Oh Jesus. From the Irish Defence Forces. Stamp.
We’re sorry to inform you height weight IQ and eyesight are are but we wish you the very best.
You there staring across the table. Weeping mother press her faces into hands. Oh what. Oh what. What will you do? Eighteen years and no exam. You mumbling things like join the navy. They’d soon teach you to be a man. Not soft as shite with all the women in this house. Stop that talk. Conspiracies walling in around. God will I never get a break you said. What’s waiting to jump out and be reason for your failure? Ha ha ha. Not you. Never your fault. The fucking army. No need for that filthy talk. Who needs all that anyway? you say. They’ll never be their own man.
Slinking I if I could past. I don’t want to talk about this. With her. Near you at any rate. It’s your problem. Hers to fix. But your brother. Don’t tell me. He would make a lovely priest. Fuck off off that. I’m still your mother. True. And don’t talk to me that way.
Before there’s anything else though I’m out the. I’m out the very. Quick. Quick.
PART III. LAND UNDER THE WAVE
1
Back to stacking shelves for you with all those ones you hate. Shot to the ground they’d be if you could. Still it’s sixty quid every week. Twenty for her. The rest for you for buying sweets. More packets every day that you conceal. Up your coat pocket. In your sleeve — when you’re walking through the kitchen. But my job’s the bedroom bins. Colour foils off been all stripped. Plastic twirled in tissues but I saw I see it. Ever pack of Murray mints. Scoffed them when us two weren’t around. Glut glut gluttony I decide to say if I decide to. Out you. Stick you on a greedy spike. That’s if I need to. If I will I don’t know. Yet.
So we’re doing Lent this year she say we’ve been too lax now look at us. And all our groan was no effect. Giving sweets up. All things sweet up. Yes and literally good for the soul. Oh my god those magic words. Set me to flight. In my secret world I’ll find some way to rebel. Smiling offer up my fudge for Christ and for all the angels and the saints. Hey presto or Olé! And give up sugar in my tea. And give up milk. I drink it black and eat burnt toast for indulgence of. The dead. I like this very much. Sacrificial virgin self I seem to be.
Much dourer you than me. This is such a waste of time you say. We’ve swapped places for these mortifying days. Say effing praying what’s the good of that? I said my night prayers every night and look at what they did to me. Who? They did. They all. Didn’t want me to succeed. I see. Good. Oh yes? You just have it so easy look at you. What? All the things you did but your life’s always so. You’re always doing well, you say. I am, am I? Just leave me by myself you stupid dirty sow. Cow.
Morning mass at seven o’clock up the convent every day. Trup trup trup St Theresa echo wax parquet. Say prayers for your exams she says to me. We’ll see what’s to come. So here’s to holy acceleration but all I see is the wall ahead. And you say alright I will too. Liar faker. I do not look at you your eyes when I can manage not. Think about your daily sweets.
Clap. Trap. We go on slugging chest and head when we can. But I always swerve from you are so fucking dim though that’s what I prize now the most. Not for being clever gets you what you want. Just where you are, I won’t be.
Mad lust of it you get for computer games go blip across a screen. That’s your eighteenth birthday gift improve your mind with. Further education she says. Thinks of analysts in rows in shirts and saved up tokens with the milk. You blip it often. Your room at night. Going. One another and another one after that. From the morning til you went to work and after tea after rosaries after watching some TV. The new love take up all your time. Eating sweets and Jupiter Landing. Come on and have a go. No. I don’t want to. It’s killing all your brain cells. So?
And after one year. All the same washed over. And after two. You are all calmed down to stacking neatly every day. Getting on the ground floor. Cursed and resigned. To something. What? All that stuff you go on about. I am keeping it clean as long as I can and see think you’ve forgotten all of that. That thing in the past lake shed prefab. Everyone’s quiet. They’re moved on to greener fields. Are grazing there on someone else. Just feel a scald of it now and then and think I’d like to get away. But look those boys out in the eye. I know it. Worse things. More than they. Spotty little dribble spittle. But my head goes half wild. Turning over my new leaf. I live to work up other days. I peck out of this school bus shell. Get the wind pouring through my hair. Moving to my own flat. Live on my own potato bake. Far off. Far off. Leaving you and her. Away. Turning tide off. White out my eyes. Ears nose and throat. That two years sitting in the gap. Exams come and go and soon I’ll soon I’ll not live here anymore.
I do. I get my A’s and B’s. I am ready to leap. Go then head first. On the train. I stand with my socks up. With my fingers sticking out. Wave away. Go on away. To the two of you that’s groggy from crying. She. You’re putting one hand on her shoulder. Take care of yourself and give us a call. Bye then. Bye. Pulling off pulling off for the city. Leaving that. Go back. All you behind. Put breath back in my body. Right now. Next now. What I’ll be?
2
City all that black in my lungs. In my nose. Like I am smoking am not but still. I’ll have a creaky bed up in some woman’s house. For too much a week, that I don’t guess. Will do. Maybe soon. Unpack my socks and. Oh. That’s being lonely. Lying here. Head and feet not knowing where they’ve come to. The rest and. Both of ye. And shocking. That. Homesick. I am. Oh God. Between my eyes spat new sparkle pangs. Give a leg up here. Give me a chance. I’ll be dwindling over baked beans every single night and see some Murray mints think of you. Oh terrible. Such an unexpected. Slip.
But with all that I begin. On the very first day. Going in the college door hello. Oh I am. Yes. Just over there. Fine thanks. Yes thanks. Fine grand yep I will. There. So so we are just the one of us now. Me. God everyone’s at home still doing the same why am I here? Think of her in her rosaries and you at the shelf.
This room smells of chalk smells bad to me. Go on. Jesus. Loads of people. Strangers coming going here. I see in this room rolling black boards is a new thing. But grills on windows is a what does that mean? I don’t. Never seen that before. Ha. A wicked city I have come to. So all kinds of things must go on. I know.