The other man says, By Jesus, if that was my son Id kick his arse
from here to the County Kerry. He have no right to be talkin to his
father in that manner on a sorrowful day. If a man cant have a pint the
day of a funeral whats the use of livin at all, at all.
Dad says,All right.Well go.
They finish their pints and wipe the wet brown stains off the coffin
with their sleeves.The man climbs up to the drivers seat of the carriage
and Dad and I ride inside. He has the coffin on his lap and he presses it
against his chest. At home our room is filled with big people, Mam,
Grandma, Aunt Aggie, her husband, Pa Keating, Uncle Pat Sheehan,
Uncle Tom Sheehan, who is Mams oldest brother and who never came
near us before because he hates people from the North of Ireland.
Uncle Tom has his wife, Jane, with him. Shes from Galway and people
say she has the look of a Spaniard and thats why no one in the family
talks to her.
The man takes the coffin from Dad and when he brings it into the
room Mam moans, Oh, no, oh, God, no.The man tells Grandma hell
be back in awhile to take us to the graveyard. Grandma tells him hed
better not come back to this house in a drunken state because this child
thats going to the graveyard suffered greatly and deserves a bit of dig-
nity and she wont put up with a driver thats drunk and ready to fall
out of the high seat.
The man says, Missus, I drove dozens o children to the graveyard
an never once fell out of any seat, high or low.
The men are drinking stout from bottles again and the women are sip-
ping sherry from jam jars. Uncle Pat Sheehan tells everyone,This is my
stout, this is my stout, and Grandma says, Tis all right, Pat. No one will
take your stout.Then he says he wants to sing The Road to Rasheen
till Pa Keating says, No, Pat, you cant sing on the day of a funeral.You
can sing the night before. But Uncle Pat keeps saying,This is my stout
and I want to sing The Road to Rasheen, and everyone knows he
talks like that because he was dropped on his head. He starts to sing his
song but stops when Grandma takes the lid off the coffin and Mam
sobs, Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus, will it ever stop? Will I be left with one child?
Mam is sitting on a chair at the head of the bed. Shes stroking
Eugenes hair and face and hands. She tells him that of all the children
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