push him on the swing. He says,You uck kill me uck on seesaw. He gets
Freddie Leibowitz to push him and hes happy, laughing when he swings
to the sky. Freddie is big, hes seven, and I ask him to push me. He says,
No, you tried to kill your brother.
I try to get the swing going myself but all I can do is move it back
and forth and Im angry because Freddie and Malachy are laughing at
the way I cant swing.Theyre great pals now, Freddie, seven, Malachy,
two.They laugh every day and Malachys tongue gets better with all the
laughing.
When he laughs you can see how white and small and pretty his
teeth are and you can see his eyes shine. He has blue eyes like my
mother. He has golden hair and pink cheeks. I have brown eyes like
Dad. I have black hair and my cheeks are white in the mirror. My
mother tells Mrs. Leibowitz down the hall that Malachy is the happiest
child in the world. She tells Mrs. Leibowitz down the hall, Frankie has
the odd manner like his father. I wonder what the odd manner is but I
cant ask because Im not supposed to be listening.
I wish I could swing up into the sky, up into the clouds. I might be able
to fly around the whole world and not hear my brothers, Oliver and
Eugene,cry in the middle of the night anymore.My mother says theyre
always hungry. She cries in the middle of the night, too. She says shes
worn out nursing and feeding and changing and four boys is too much
for her. She wishes she had one little girl all for herself. Shed give any-
thing for one little girl.
Im in the playground with Malachy. Im four, hes three. He lets me
push him on the swing because hes no good at swinging himself and
Freddie Leibowitz is in school. We have to stay in the playground
because the twins are sleeping and my mother says shes worn out. Go
out and play, she says, and give me some rest. Dad is out looking for a
job again and sometimes he comes home with the smell of whiskey,
singing all the songs about suffering Ireland. Mam gets angry and says
Ireland can kiss her arse. He says thats nice language to be using in
front of the children and she says never mind the language, food on
the table is what she wants, not suffering Ireland. She says it was a
sad day Prohibition ended because Dad gets the drink going around
to saloons offering to sweep out the bars and lift barrels for a whiskey
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