orders on Friday nights and all day Saturday and thats when we get the
good tips.The minute we deliver one batch were out with another.
The worst lanes are in the Irishtown, off High Street or Mungret
Street, worse than Roden Lane or OKeeffes Lane or any lane I lived
in. There are lanes with channels running down the middle. Mothers
stand at doors and yell gardyloo when they empty their slop buckets.
Children make paper boats or float matchboxes with little sails on the
greasy water.
When you ride into a lane the children call out, Heres the telegram
boy, heres the telegram boy.They run to you and the women wait at
the door.If you give a small child a telegram for his mother hes the hero
of the family. Little girls know theyre supposed to wait till the boys get
their chance though they can get the telegram if they have no brothers.
Women at the door will call to you that they have no money now but
if youre in this lane tomorrow knock on the door for your tip, God
bless you an all belongin to you.
Mrs. OConnell and Miss Barry at the post office tell us every day
our job is to deliver telegrams and nothing else.We are not to be doing
things for people, going to the shop for groceries or any other kind of
message.They dont care if people are dying in the bed.They dont care
if people are legless, lunatic or crawling on the floor.We are to deliver
the telegram and thats all. Mrs. OConnell says, I know everything ye
do, everything, for the people of Limerick have their eye on ye and
there are reports which I have here in my drawers.
A fine place to keep reports, says Toby Mackey under his breath.
But Mrs. OConnell and Miss Barry dont know what its like in the
lane when you knock on a door and someone says come in and you go
in and theres no light and theres a pile of rags on a bed in a corner the
pile saying who is it and you say telegram and the pile of rags tells you
would you ever go to the shop for me Im starving with the hunger and
Id give me two eyes for a cup of tea and what are you going to do say
Im busy and ride off on your bike and leave the pile of rags there with
a telegram money order thats pure useless because the pile of rags is
helpless to get out of the bed to go to the post office to cash the bloody
money order.
What are you supposed to do?
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