leen, the nurse above in Dublin. But no son and he said you gave him
the feeling of a son.
I feel my eyes burning and I dont want her to see me crying
especially when I dont know why Im crying.Thats all I do lately. Is it
the job? Is it Mr. Hannon? My mother says, Oh, your bladder is near
your eye.
I think Im crying because of the quiet way Mrs. Hannon is talking
and shes talking like that because of Mr. Hannon.
Like a son, she says, and Im glad he had that feeling. His working
days are over, you know. He has to stay at home from this out.There
might be a cure and if there is sure he might be able to get a job as a
watchman where he doesnt have to be lifting and hauling.
I wont have a job anymore, Mrs. Hannon.
You have a job, Frank. School.Thats your job.
Thats not a job, Mrs. Hannon.
Youll never have another job like it, Frank. It breaks Mr. Hannons
heart to think of you dragging bags of coal off a float and it breaks your
mothers heart and twill destroy your eyes. God knows Im sorry I ever
got you into this for it had your poor mother caught between your eyes
and Mr. Hannons legs.
Can I go to the hospital to see Mr. Hannon?
They might not let you in but surely you can come here to see him.
God knows he wont be doing much but reading and looking out the
window.
Mam tells me at home,You shouldnt cry but then again tears are
salty and theyll wash the bad stuff from your eyes.
267