rashers and eggs and tea in honor of Oliver, that we might even have a
sweet or two.
He wasnt home by noon, or one, or two, and we boiled and ate the
few potatoes the shopkeepers had given the day before.He wasnt home
anytime before the sun went down that day in May.There was no sign
of him till we heard him, long after the pubs closed, rolling along Wind-
mill Street, singing,
When all around a vigil keep,
The Wests asleep, the Wests asleep
Alas, and well may Erin weep
When Connacht lies in slumber deep.
There lake and plain smile fair and free,
Mid rocks their guardian chivalry.
Sing, Oh, let man learn liberty
From crashing wind and lashing sea.
He stumbled into the room, hanging on to the wall.A snot oozed
from his nose and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He tried
to speak. Zeeze shildren should be in bed. Lishen to me. Shildren go to
bed.
Mam faced him. These children are hungry. Wheres the dole
money? Well get fish and chips so theyll have something in their bel-
lies when they go to sleep.
She tried to stick her hands into his pockets but he pushed her away.
Have respheck, he said. Reshpeck in front of shildren.
She struggled to get at his pockets.Wheres the money? The chil-
dren are hungry. You mad oul bastard, did you drink all the money
again? Just what you did in Brooklyn.
He blubbered, Och, poor Angela.And poor wee Margaret and poor
wee Oliver.
He staggered to me and hugged me and I smelled the drink I used
to smell in America. My face was wet from his tears and his spit and his
snot and I was hungry and I didnt know what to say when he cried all
over my head.
Then he let me go and hugged Malachy, still going on about the
wee sister and the wee brother cold in the ground, and how we all have
to pray and be good, how we have to be obedient and do what our
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