You cant fix anything.Youre useless, she says.
He comes home the next day with an old bicycle tire. He sends me
to Mr. Hannon next door for the loan of a last and a hammer. He takes
Mams sharp knife and he hacks at the tire till he has pieces to fit on the
soles and heels of our shoes. Mam tells him hes going to destroy the
shoes altogether but he pounds away with the hammer, driving the nails
through the rubber pieces and into the shoes. Mam says, God above, if
you left the shoes alone theyd last till Easter, at least, and we might get
the boots from the St.Vincent de Paul. But he wont stop till the soles
and heels are covered with squares of rubber tire which stick out on
each side of the shoe and flop before and behind. He makes us put on
the shoes and tells us our feet will be good and warm but we dont want
to wear them anymore because the tire pieces are so lumpy we stumble
when we walk around Italy. He sends me back to Mr. Hannon with the
last and hammer and Mrs.Hannon says,God above,whats up with your
shoes? She laughs and Mr. Hannon shakes his head and I feel ashamed.
I dont want to go to school next day and I pretend to be sick but Dad
gets us up and gives us our fried bread and tea and tells us we should be
grateful we have any shoes at all, that there are boys in Leamys National
School who go to school barefoot on bitter days. On our way to school
Leamys boys laugh at us because the tire pieces are so thick they add a
few inches to our height and the boys say, Hows the air up there? There
are six or seven barefoot boys in my class and they dont say anything
and I wonder if its better to have shoes with rubber tires that make you
trip and stumble or to go barefoot.If you have no shoes at all youll have
all the barefoot boys on your side. If you have rubber tires on your shoes
youre all alone with your brother and you have to fight your own bat-
tles. I sit on a bench in the schoolyard shed and take off my shoes and
stockings but when I go into the class the master wants to know where
my shoes are. He knows Im not one of the barefoot boys and he makes
me go back to the yard, bring in the shoes and put them on.Then he
says to the class,There is sneering here.There is jeering at the misfor-
tunes of others. Is there anyone in this class that thinks hes perfect?
Raise your hands.
There are no hands.
Is there anyone in this class that comes from a rich family with
money galore to spend on shoes? Raise your hands.
There are no hands.
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