Night falls along the streets of Dublin. Children laugh and play
under streetlights, mothers call from doorways, smells of cooking come
at us all the way, through windows we see people around tables, eating.
Im tired and hungry and I want Dad to carry me but I know theres no
use asking him now the way his face is tight and set. I let him hold my
hand and I run to keep up with him till we reach the bus place where
Mam is waiting with my brothers.
Theyre all asleep on the bench, my mother and three brothers.
When Dad tells Mam theres no money she shakes her head and sobs,
Oh, Jesus, what are we going to do? A man in a blue uniform comes
over and asks her,Whats up, missus? Dad tells him were stranded there
at the bus station, we have no money and no place to stay and the chil-
dren are hungry.The man says hes going off duty now, hell take us to
the police barracks where he has to report anyway, and theyll see what
can be done.
The man in uniform tells us we can call him guard.Thats what you
call policemen in Ireland. He asks us what you call policemen in Amer-
ica and Malachy says, cop.The guard pats him on the head and tells him
hes a clever little Yankee.
At the police barracks the sergeant tells us we can spend the night.
Hes sorry but all he can offer is the floor. Its Thursday and the cells are
filled with men who drank their dole money and wouldnt leave the pubs.
The guards give us hot sweet tea and thick slices of bread slathered
with butter and jam and were so happy we run around the barracks,
playing.The guards say were a great bunch of little Yanks and theyd like
to take us home but I say, No, Malachy says, No, the twins say, No, No,
and all the guards laugh. Men in cells reach out and pat our heads, they
smell like Dad when he comes home singing about Kevin Barry and
Roddy McCorley going to die. The men say, Jasus, will ye listen to
them.They sound like bloody fillum stars. Did yez fall outa the sky or
what? Women in cells at the other end tell Malachy hes gorgeous and
the twins are dotes. One woman talks to me. Cmere, love, would you
like a sweet? I nod, and she says,All right, put your hand out. She takes
something sticky from her mouth and puts it on my hand.There you
are now, she says, a nice bit of butterscotch. Put that in your mouth. I
dont want to put it in my mouth because its sticky and wet from her
mouth but I dont know what youre supposed to do when a woman in
a cell offers you sticky butterscotch and Im about to put it in my mouth
when a guard comes, takes the butterscotch and throws it back at the
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