like but that wouldnt do because the small ones wouldnt be able to
climb and theyd fall down an get killed so you go up there an they can
move in here.
All right, all right, all right, all right.
He hoists himself from the bed and theres a whiskey smell. He goes
to the kitchen and pulls the table to the wall for his climb to the loft.
Grandma says, Thats fine now. Ye can move up here tonight an ye
wont have the eviction men coming after ye.
Grandma tells Mam shes going home. Shes tired and drenched and
shes not twenty-five anymore. She says theres no need to be taking
beds or furniture with all the stuff thats up in Laman Griffins.We put
Alphie in the pram and pile around him the pot, the pan, the kettle, the
jam jars and mugs, the Pope, two bolsters and the coats from the beds.
We drape the coats over our heads and push the pram through the
streets. Mam tells us be quiet going up the lane or the neighbors will
know we got the eviction and there will be shame. The pram has a
bockety wheel which tilts it and makes it go in different directions.We
try to keep it straight and were having a great time because it must be
after midnight and surely Mam wont make us go to school tomorrow.
Were moving so far from Leamys School now maybe well never have
to go again. Once we get away from the lane Alphie bangs on the pot
with the spoon and Michael sings a song he heard in a film with Al Jol-
son,Swanee,how I love ya,how I love ya,my dear olSwanee.He makes
us laugh the way he tries to sing in a deep voice like Al Jolson.
Mam says shes glad its late and theres no one on the streets to see
our shame.
Once we get to the house we take Alphie and everything else from
the pram so that Malachy and I can run back down to Roden Lane
for the trunk. Mam says shed die if she lost that trunk and everything
in it.
Malachy and I sleep at opposite ends of the small bed.Mam takes the
big bed with Alphie beside her and Michael at the bottom. Everything
is damp and musty and Laman Griffin snores over our heads.There are
no stairs in this house and that means no angel ever on the seventh step.
But Im twelve going on thirteen and I might be too old for angels.
Its still dark when the alarm goes off in the morning and Laman Grif-
fin snorts and blows his nose and hawks the stuff from his chest.
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