takes us to a house with a lawn, a fountain and three pink birds stand-
ing on one leg.There are five women in a room called a living room.
The women have stiff hair, spotless frocks. They have glasses in their
hands and theyre friendly and smile with perfect teeth. One says,Come
right in. Just in time for the pawty.
Pawty.Thats the way they talk and I suppose Ill be talking like that
in a few years.
Tim Boyle tells us the girls are having a bit of a time while their
husbands are away overnight hunting deer, and one woman, Betty, says,
Yeah. Buddies from the war.That war is over nearly five years and they
cant get over it so they shoot animals every weekend and drink Rhein-
gold till they cant see. Goddam war, excuse the language, Fawder.
The priest whispers to me, These are bad women. We wont stay
here long.
The bad women say, Whatcha like to drink? We got everything.
Whats your name, honey?
Frank McCourt.
Nice name. So you take a little drink.All the Irish take a little drink.
You like a beer?
Yes, please.
Gee,so polite.I like the Irish.My grandmother was half Irish so that
makes me half, quarter? I dunno. My name is Frieda. So heres your
beer, honey.
The priest sits at the end of a sofa which they call a couch and two
women talk to him. Betty asks the First Officer if hed like to see the
house and he says, Oh, I would, because we dont have houses like this
in Ireland.Another woman tells the Wireless Officer he should see what
they have growing in the garden, you wouldnt believe the flowers.
Frieda asks me if Im okay and I tell her yes but would she mind telling
me where the lavatory is.
The what?
Lavatory.
Oh, you mean the bathroom. Right this way, honey, down the hall.
Thanks.
She pushes in the door, turns on the light, kisses my cheek and
whispers shell be right outside if I need anything.
I stand at the toilet bowl firing away and wonder what Id need at
a time like this and if this is a common thing in America, women wait-
ing outside while you take a splash.
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