work.Poor man,its not his fault theres a Depression.He looks for work
day and night. My Dan is lucky, four years with the city and he dont
drink. He grew up in Toome with your husband. Some drink. Some
dont. Curse of the Irish. Now eat,Angela. Build yourself up after your
loss.
Mr. MacAdorey tells Dad theres work with the WPA and when he
gets the work theres money for food and Mam leaves the bed to clean
the twins and to feed us.When Dad comes home with the drink smell
theres no money and Mam screams at him till the twins cry, and
Malachy and I run out to the playground. On those nights Mam crawls
back into bed and Dad sings the sad songs about Ireland.Why doesnt
he hold her and help her sleep the way he did with my little sister
who died? Why doesnt he sing a Margaret song or a song that will dry
Mams tears? He still gets Malachy and me out of bed to stand in our
shirts promising to die for Ireland. One night he wanted to make the
twins promise to die for Ireland but they cant even talk and Mam
screamed at him, You mad oul bastard, cant you leave the children
alone?
Hell give us a nickel for ice cream if we promise to die for Ireland
and we promise but we never get the nickel.
We get soup from Mrs. Leibowitz and mashed potatoes from Minnie
MacAdorey and they show us how to take care of the twins, how to
wash their bottoms and how to wash diaper rags after they get them all
shitty. Mrs. Leibowitz calls them diapers and Minnie calls them nappies
but it doesnt matter what they call them because the twins get them
shitty anyway. If Mam stays in the bed and Dad goes out looking for a
job we can do what we like all day.We can put the twins in the small
swings in the park and swing them till they get hungry and cry.The Ital-
ian man calls to me from across the street, Hey, Frankie, cmere.Watch
out crossing da street. Dem twins hungry again? He gives us bits of
cheese and ham and bananas but I cant eat bananas anymore after the
way the bird spat blood at Cuchulain.
The man says his name is Mr. Dimino and thats his wife, Angela,
behind the counter. I tell him thats my mothers name. No kiddin,
kid.Your mother is Angela? I didnt know the Irish had any Angelas.
Hey, Angela, his mothers name is Angela. She smiles. She says,Thatsa
nice.
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