woman.You drunken hoor, he says, leave the child alone, and all the
women laugh.
The sergeant gives my mother a blanket and she sleeps stretched out
on a bench.The rest of us lie on the floor. Dad sits with his back to the
wall, his eyes open under the peak of his cap, and he smokes when
the guards give him cigarettes.The guard who threw the butterscotch
at the woman says hes from Ballymena in the north and he talks with
Dad about people they know there and in other places like Cushendall
and Toome.The guard says hell have a pension some day and hell live
on the shores of Lough Neagh and fish his days away. Eels, he says, eels
galore.Jasus,I love a fried eel.I ask Dad,Is this Cuchulain? and the guard
laughs till his face turns red.Ah, Mother o God, did yez hear this? The
lad wants to know if Im Cuchulain.A little Yank and he knows all about
Cuchulain.
Dad says, No, hes not Cuchulain but hes a fine man who will live
on the shores of Lough Neagh and fish his days away.
Dad is shaking me. Up, Francis, up. It is noisy in the barracks. A boy
mopping the floor is singing,
Anyone can see why I wanted your kiss,
It had to be and the reason is this,
Could it be true, someone like you
Could love me, love me?
I tell him thats my mothers song and hes to stop singing it but he
just puffs on his cigarette and walks away and I wonder why people have
to sing other peoples songs. Men and women coming out of the cells
are yawning and grunting. The woman who offered me the butter-
scotch stops and says, I had a drop taken, child. Im sorry I made a fool
of you, but the guard from Ballymena tells her, Move on, you oul hoor,
before I lock you up again.
Oh, lock me up, she says. In, out. What does it matter, you blue-
arsed bastard.
Mam is sitting up on the bench, the blanket wrapped around her.A
woman with gray hair brings her a mug of tea and tells her, Sure, Im
the sergeants wife and he said you might need help.Would you like a
nice soft-boiled egg, missus?
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