Angela's Ashes: A Memoir Part 25
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Lemonade. Thereas a van pulling away from Southas pub leaving crates of beer and lemonade outside and there isnat a soul on the street.
In a second I have two bottles of lemonade up under my jersey and I saunter away trying to look innocent.
Thereas a bread van outside Kathleen OaConnellas shop.The back door is open on shelves of steaming newly baked bread.The van driver is inside the shop having tea and a bun with Kathleen and itas no trouble for me to help myself to a loaf of bread. Itas wrong to steal from Kathleen with the way sheas always good to us but if I go in and ask her for bread sheall be annoyed and tell me Iam ruining her morning cup of tea, which shead like to have in peace ease and comfort thank you. Itas easier to stick the bread up under my jersey with the lemonade and promise to tell everything in confession.
My brothers are back in bed playing games under the overcoats but they jump when they see the bread.We tear at the loaf because weare too hungry to slice it and we make tea from this morningas leaves.When 236.
my mother stirs Malachy holds the lemonade bottle to her lips and she gasps till she finishes it. If she likes it that much Iall have to find more lemonade.
We put the last of the coal on the fire and sit around telling stories which we make up the way Dad did. I tell my brothers about my adventures with the lemonade and bread and I make up stories about how I was chased by pub owners and shopkeepers and how I ran into St.
Josephas Church where no one can follow you if youare a criminal, not even if you killed your own mother.Malachy and Michael look shocked over the way I got the bread and lemonade but then Malachy says it was only what Robin Hood would have done, rob the rich and give to the poor. Michael says Iam an outlaw and if they catch me theyall hang me from the highest tree in the Peopleas Park the way outlaws are hanged in films at the Lyric Cinema. Malachy says I should make sure Iam in a state of grace because it might be hard to find a priest to come to my hanging. I tell him a priest would have to come to the hanging.Thatas what priests are for. Roddy McCorley had a priest and so did Kevin Barry. Malachy says there were no priests at the hanging of Roddy McCorley and Kevin Barry because theyare not mentioned in the songs and he starts singing the songs to prove it till my mother groans in the bed and says shut up.
Alphie the baby is asleep on the floor by the fire.We put him into the bed with Mam so that heall be warm though we donat want him to catch her disease and die. If she wakes up and finds him dead in the bed beside her there will be no end to the lamentations and sheall blame me on top of it.
The three of us get back into our own bed, huddling under the overcoats and trying not to roll into the hole in the mattress. Itas pleasant there till Michael starts to worry over Alphie getting Mamas disease and me getting hanged for an outlaw. He says it isnat fair because that would leave him with only one brother and everyone in the world has brothers galore. He falls asleep from the worry and soon Malachy drifts off and I lie there thinking of jam.Wouldnat it be lovely to have another loaf of bread and a jar of strawberry jam or any kind of jam. I canat remember ever seeing a jam van making a delivery and I wouldnat want to be like Jesse James blasting my way into a shop demanding jam.That would surely lead to a hanging.
Thereas a cold sun coming through the window and Iam sure it must be warmer outside and wouldnat my brothers be surprised if they 237.
woke and found me there with more bread and jam. Theyad gobble everything and then go on about my sins and the hanging.
Mam is still asleep though her face is red and thereas a strangling sound when she snores.
I have to be careful going through the street because itas a school day and if Guard Dennehy sees me heall drag me off to school and Mr.
OaHalloran will knock me all over the cla.s.sroom.The guard is in charge of school attendance and he loves chasing you on his bicycle and dragging you off to school by the ear.
Thereas a box sitting outside the door of one of the big houses on Barrington Street. I pretend to knock on the door so that I can see whatas in the box, a bottle of milk, a loaf of bread, cheese, tomatoes and, oh, G.o.d, a jar of marmalade. I canat shove all that under my jersey. Oh, G.o.d. Should I take the whole box? The people pa.s.sing by pay me no attention. I might as well take the whole box.My mother would say you might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. I lift the box and try to look like a messenger boy making a delivery and no one says a word.
Malachy and Michael are beside themselves when they see whatas in the box and theyare soon gobbling thick cuts of bread slathered with golden marmalade. Alphie has the marmalade all over his face and hair and a good bit on his legs and belly.We wash down the food with cold tea because we have no fire to heat it.
Mam mumbles again for lemonade and I give her half the second bottle to keep her quiet. She calls for more and I mix it with water to stretch it because I canat be spending my life running around lifting lemonade from pubs.Weare having a fine time of it till Mam begins to rave in the bed about her lovely little daughter taken from her and her twin boys gone before they were three and why couldnat G.o.d take the rich for a change and is there any lemonade in the house? Michael wants to know if Mam will die and Malachy tells him you canat die till a priest comes.Then Michael wonders if weall ever have a fire and hot tea again because heas freezing in the bed even with the overcoats left over from olden times. Malachy says we should go from house to house asking for turf and coal and wood and we could use Alphieas pram to carry the load.We should take Alphie with us because heas small and he smiles and people will see him and feel sorry for him and us.We try to wash all the dirt and lint and feathers and sticky marmalade but when we touch him with water he howls. Michael says heall only get dirty 238.
again in the pram so whatas the use of was.h.i.+ng him. Michael is small but heas always saying remarkable things like that.
We push the pram out to the rich avenues and roads but when we knock on the doors the maids tell us go away or theyall call the proper authorities and itas a disgrace to be dragging a baby around in a wreck of a pram that smells to the heavens a filthy contraption that you wouldnat use to haul a pig to the slaughterhouse and this is a Catholic country where babies should be cherished and kept alive to hand down the faith from generation to generation. Malachy tells one maid to kiss his a.r.s.e and she gives him such a clout the tears leap to his eyes and he says heall never in his life ask the rich for anything again. He says thereas no use asking anymore, that we should go around the backs of the houses and climb over the walls and take what we want. Michael can ring the front doorbells to keep the maids busy and Malachy and I can throw coal and turf over the walls and fill the pram all around Alphie.
We collect that way from three houses but then Malachy throws a piece of coal over a wall and hits Alphie and he starts screaming and we have to run forgetting Michael, still ringing doorbells and getting abuse from maids. Malachy says we should take the pram home first and then go back for Michael.We canat stop now with Alphie bawling and people giving us dirty looks and telling us weare a disgrace to our mother and Ireland in general.
When weare back home it takes a while to dig Alphie out from under the load of coal and turf and he wonat stop screaming till I give him bread and marmalade. Iam afraid Mam will leap from her bed but she only mumbles on about Dad and drink and babies dead.
Malachy is back with Michael, with stories of his adventures ringing doorbells. One rich woman answered the door herself and invited him into the kitchen for cake and milk and bread and jam. She asked him all about his family and he told her his father had a big job in England but his mother is in the bed with a desperate disease and calling for lemonade morning noon and night. The rich woman wanted to know who was taking care of us and Michael bragged we were taking care of ourselves, that there was no shortage of bread and marmalade.
The rich woman wrote down Michaelas name and address and told him be a good boy and go home to his brothers and his mother in the bed.
Malachy barks at Michael for being such a fool as to tell a rich woman 239.
anything. Sheall go now and tell on us and before we know it weall have the priests of the world banging on the door and disturbing us.
Thereas the banging on the door already. But it isnat a priest, itas Guard Dennehy. He calls up, h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo, is anybody home? Are you there, Mrs. McCourt?
Michael knocks on the window and waves at the guard. I give him a good kick for himself and Malachy thumps him on the head and he yells, Iall tell the guard. Iall tell the guard. Theyare killing me, guard.
Theyare thumping and kicking.
He wonat shut up and Guard Dennehy shouts at us to open the door. I call out the window and tell him I canat open the door because my mother is in bed with a terrible disease.
Whereas your father?
Heas in England.
Well, Iam coming in to talk to your mother.
You canat.You canat. She has the disease.We all have the disease. It might be the typhoid. It might be the galloping consumption.Weare getting spots already.The baby has a lump. It could kill.
He pushes in the door and climbs the stairs to Italy just as Alphie crawls out from under the bed covered with marmalade and dirt. He looks at him and my mother and us, takes off his cap and scratches his head. He says, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this is a desperate situation.How did your mother get sick like that?
I tell him he shouldnat go near her and when Malachy says we might not be able to go to school for ages the guard says weall go to school no matter what, that weare on the earth to go to school the way heas on the earth to make sure we go to school.He wants to know if we have any relations and he sends me off to tell Grandma and Aunt Aggie to come to our house.
They scream at me and tell me Iam filthy. I try to explain that Mam has the disease and Iam worn out trying to make ends meet, keeping the home fires burning, getting lemonade for Mam and bread for my brothers. Thereas no use telling them about the marmalade for theyall only scream again. Thereas no use telling them about the nastiness of rich people and their maids.
They push me all the way back to the lane, barking at me and disgracing me on the streets of Limerick. Guard Dennehy is still scratching his poll. He says, Look at this, a disgrace.You wouldnat see the likes of this in Bombay or the Bowery of New York itself.
240.
Grandma is wailing at my mother, Mother oa G.o.d, Angela, whatas up with you in the bed? What did they do to you?
My mother runs her tongue over her dry lips and gasps for more lemonade.
She wants lemonade, says Michael, and we got it for her and bread and marmalade and weare all outlaws now. Frankie was the first outlaw till we went raiding for coal all over Limerick.
Guard Dennehy looks interested and takes Michael downstairs by the hand and in a few minutes we hear him laughing. Aunt Aggie says thatas a disgraceful way to behave with my mother sick in the bed.The guard comes back and tells her go for a doctor. He keeps covering his face with his cap whenever he looks at me or my brothers. Desperadoes, he says, desperadoes.
The doctor comes with Aunt Aggie in his motor car and he has to rush my mother to the hospital with her pneumonia.Wead all like to go riding in the doctoras car but Aunt Aggie says,No, ye are all coming to my house till yeer mother comes home from the hospital.
I tell her not to bother. Iam eleven and I can easily look after my brothers. Iad be glad to stay at home from school and make sure everyone is fed and washed. But Grandma screams I will do no such a thing and Aunt Aggie gives me a thump for myself. Guard Dennehy says Iam too young yet to be an outlaw and a father but I have a promising future in both departments.
Get your clothes, says Aunt Aggie, ye are coming to my house till yeer mother is out of the hospital. Jesus above, that baby is a disgrace.
She finds a rag and ties it around Alphieas bottom for fear he might s.h.i.+t all over the pram.Then she looks at us and wants to know why weare standing there with our faces hanging out after she told us get our clothes.
Iam afraid sheall hit me or yell at me when I tell her itas all right,we have our clothes, theyare on us. She stares at me and shakes her head. Here, she says, put some sugar and water in the childas bottle. She tells me I have to push Alphie through the streets, she canat manage the pram with that bockety wheel that makes it rock back and forth and besides atis a disgraceful-looking object shead be ashamed to put a mangy dog in. She takes the three old coats from our bed and piles them on the pram till you can hardly see Alphie at all.
Grandma comes with us and barks at me all the way from Roden Lane to Aunt Aggieas flat in Windmill Street. Canat you push that pram properly? Jesus, youare going to kill that child. Stop goina from side to 241.
side or Iall give you a good c.l.i.tther on the gob. She wonat come into Aunt Aggieas flat. She canat stand the sight of us one more minute.
Sheas fed up with the whole McCourt clan from the days when she had to send six fares to bring us all back from America, dis.h.i.+ng out more money for funerals for dead children, giving us food every time our father drank the dole or the wages, helping Angela carry on while that blaguard from the North drinks his wages all over England.
Oh, sheas fed up, so she is, and off she goes across Henry Street with her black shawl pulled up around her white head, limping along in her black high-laced boots.
When youare eleven and your brothers are ten, five and one, you donat know what to do when you go to someoneas house even if sheas your motheras sister.Youare told to leave the pram in the hall and bring the baby into the kitchen but if itas not your house you donat know what to do once you get into the kitchen for fear the aunt will yell at you or hit you on the skull. She takes off her coat and takes it to the bedroom and you stand with the baby in your arms waiting to be told. If you take one step forward or one step to the side she might come out and say where are you going and you donat know what to answer because you donat know yourself. If you say anything to your brothers she might say who do you think youare talking to in my kitchen? We have to stand and be quiet and thatas hard when thereas a tinkling sound from the bedroom and we know sheas on the chamber pot peeing away. I donat want to look at Malachy. If I do Iall smile and heall smile and Michael will smile and thereas danger weall start laughing and if we do we wonat be able to stop for days at the picture in our heads of Aunt Aggieas big white b.u.m perched on a flowery little chamber pot. Iam able to control myself. I wonat laugh. Malachy and Michael wonat laugh and itas easy to see weare all proud of ourselves for not laughing and getting into trouble with Aunt Aggie till Alphie in my arms smiles and says Goo goo and that sets us off.The three of us burst out laughing and Alphie grins with his dirty face and says Goo goo again till weare helpless and Aunt Aggie roars out of the room pulling her dress down and gives me a thump on the head that sends me against the wall baby and all. She hits Malachy too and she tries to hit Michael but he runs to the other side of her round table and she canat get at him. Come over here, she says, and Iall wipe that grin off your puss, but Michael keeps running around the table and sheas too fat to catch him. Iall get you later, she says, Iall warm your a.r.s.e, and you, Lord Muck, she says to me, put that child down on 242.
the floor over there by the range. She puts the old coats from the pram on the floor and Alphie lies there with his sugary water and says Goo goo and smiles. She tells us take off every sc.r.a.p of our clothes, get out to the tap in the backyard and scrub every inch of our bodies.We are not to come back into this house till weare spotless. I want to tell her itas the middle of February, itas freezing outside,we could all die,but I know if I open my mouth I might die right here on the kitchen floor.
Weare out in the yard naked dousing ourselves with icy water from the tap. She opens the kitchen window and throws out a scrub brush and a big bar of brown soap like the one they used on Finn the Horse.
She orders us to scrub each otheras backs and donat stop till she tells us.
Michael says his hands and feet are falling off with the cold but she doesnat care. She keeps telling us weare still dirty and if she has to come out to scrub us weall rue the day.Another rue. I scrub myself harder.We all scrub till weare pink and our jaws chatter. Itas not enough for Aunt Aggie. She comes out with a bucket and sloshes cold water all over us.
Now, she says, get inside and dry yeerselves.We stand in the little shed next to her kitchen drying ourselves with one towel.We stand and s.h.i.+ver and wait because you canat go marching into her kitchen till she tells you.We hear her inside starting the fire, rattling the poker in the range, then yelling at us,Are ye goina to stand in there all day? Come in here and put on yeer clothes.
She gives us mugs of tea and cuts of fried bread and we sit at the table eating quietly because youare not supposed to say a word unless she tells you. Michael asks her for a second cut of fried bread and we expect her to knock him off the chair for his cheek but she just grumbles, aTis far from two cuts of fried bread ye were brought up, and gives each of us another cut. She tries to feed Alphie bread soaked in tea but he wonat eat it till she sprinkles it with sugar and when heas finished he smiles and pees all over her lap and weare delighted. She runs out to the shed to dab at herself with a towel and weare able to grin at each other at the table and tell Alphie heas the champion baby in the world. Uncle Pa Keating comes in the door all black from his job at the gas works.
Oh, bejay, he says, whatas this?
Michael says, My mother is in the hospital, Uncle Pa.
Is that so? Whatas up with her?
Pneumonia, says Malachy.
Well, now, thatas better than oldmonia.
We donat know what heas laughing at and Aunt Aggie comes in 243.
from the shed and tells him how Mam is in the hospital and weare to stay with them till she gets out. He says, Grand, grand, and goes to the shed to wash himself though when he comes back youad never know he touched himself with water at all heas that black.
He sits at the table and Aunt Aggie gives him his supper, which is fried bread and ham and sliced tomatoes. She tells us get away from the table and stop gawking at him having his tea and tells him to stop giving us bits of ham and tomato. He says,Arrah, for Jaysus sake,Aggie, the children are hungry, and she says, aTis none of your business.Theyare not yours. She tells us go out and play and be home for bed by half-past eight.We know itas freezing outside and wead like to stay in by that warm range but itas easier to be in the streets playing than inside with Aunt Aggie and her nagging.
She calls me in later and sends me upstairs to borrow a rubber sheet from a woman who had a child that died.The woman says tell your aunt Iad like that rubber sheet back for the next child.Aunt Aggie says, Twelve years ago that child died and she still keeps the rubber sheet. Forty-five she is now and if thereas another child weall have to look for a star in the East. Malachy says,Whatas that? and she tells him mind his own business, heas too young.
Aunt Aggie places the rubber sheet on her bed and puts Alphie on it between herself and Uncle Pa. She sleeps inside against the wall and Uncle Pa outside because he has to get up in the morning for work.We are to sleep on the floor against the opposite wall with one coat under us and two over. She says if she hears a word out of us during the night sheall warm our a.r.s.es and weare to be up early in the morning because itas Ash Wednesday and it wouldnat do us any harm to go to Ma.s.s and pray for our poor mother and her pneumonia.
The alarm clock shocks us out of our sleep. Aunt Aggie calls from her bed,The three of ye are to get up and go to Ma.s.s. Do ye hear me?
Up.Wash yeer faces and go to the Jesuits.
Her backyard is all frost and ice and our hands sting from the tap water.We throw a little on our faces and dry with the towel thatas still damp from yesterday. Malachy whispers our wash was a lick and a promise, thatas what Mam would say.
The streets are frosty and icy, too, but the Jesuit church is warm. It must be grand to be a Jesuit, sleeping in a bed with sheets blankets pillows and getting up to a nice warm house and a warm church with nothing to do but say Ma.s.s hear confessions and yell at people for their 244.
sins have your meals served up to you and read your Latin office before you go to sleep. Iad like to be a Jesuit some day but thereas no hope of that when you grow up in a lane. Jesuits are very particular.They donat like poor people.They like people with motor cars who stick out their little fingers when they pick up their teacups.
The church is crowded with people at seven oaclock Ma.s.s getting the ashes on their foreheads. Malachy whispers that Michael shouldnat get the ashes because he wonat be making his First Communion till May and it would be a sin. Michael starts to cry, I want the ashes, I want the ashes. An old woman behind us says,What are ye doina to that lovely child? Malachy explains the lovely child never made his First Communion and heas not in a state of grace.Malachy is getting ready for Con- firmation himself, always showing off his knowledge of the catechism, always going on about state of grace. He wonat admit I knew all about the state of grace a year ago, so long ago Iam starting to forget it.The old woman says you donat have to be in a state of grace to get a few ashes on your forehead and tells Malachy stop tormenting his poor little brother. She pats Michael on the head and tells him heas a lovely child and go up there and get your ashes. He runs to the altar and when he comes back the woman gives him a penny to go with his ashes.
Aunt Aggie is still in the bed with Alphie. She tells Malachy to fill Alphieas bottle with milk and bring it to him. She tells me to start the fire in the range, that thereas paper and wood in a box and coal in the coal scuttle. If the fire wonat start sprinkle it with a little paraffin oil.
The fire is slow and smoky and I sprinkle it with the paraffin oil, it flares up, whoosh, and nearly takes my eyebrows off.There is smoke everywhere and Aunt Aggie rushes into the kitchen. She shoves me away from the range. Jesus above, canat you do anything right? Youare supposed to open the damper, you eejit.
I donat know anything about dampers. In our house we have a fireplace in Ireland downstairs and a fireplace in Italy upstairs and no sign of a damper.Then you go to your auntas house and youare supposed to know all about dampers.Thereas no use telling her this is the first time you ever lit a fire in a range. Sheall just give you another thump on the skull and send you flying. Itas hard to know why grown people get so angry over little things like dampers.When Iam a man I wonat go around thumping small children over dampers or anything else.Now she yells at me, Look at Lord Muck standing there.Would you ever think of opening the window and letting out the smoke? Of course you wouldnat.
245.
You have a puss on you like your father from the North. Do you think now you can boil the water for the tea without burning the house down?
She cuts three slices from a loaf, smears them with margarine for us and goes back to bed.We have the tea and bread and itas one morning weare glad to go to school where itas warm and there are no yelling aunts.
After school she tells me sit at the table and write my father a letter about Mam in the hospital and how weare all at Aunt Aggieas till Mam comes home. Iam to tell him weare all happy and in the best of health, send money, food is very dear, growing boys eat a lot, ha ha,Alphie the baby needs clothes and nappies.
I donat know why sheas always angry. Her flat is warm and dry. She has electric light in the house and her own lavatory in the backyard.
Uncle Pa has a steady job and he brings home his wages every Friday.
He drinks his pints at Southas pub but never comes home singing songs of Irelandas long woeful history. He says,A pox on all their houses, and he says the funniest thing in the world is that we all have a.r.s.es that have to be wiped and no man escapes that.The minute a politician or a Pope starts his blather Uncle Pa thinks of him wiping his a.r.s.e. Hitler and Roosevelt and Churchill all wipe their a.r.s.es. De Valera, too. He says the only people you can trust in that department are the Mahommedans for they eat with one hand and wipe with the other.The human hand itself is a sneaky b.u.g.g.e.r and you never know what itas been up to.
There are good times with Uncle Pa when Aunt Aggie goes to the Mechanicsa Inst.i.tute to play cards, forty-five. He says,To h.e.l.l with the begrudgers. He gets himself two bottles of stout from Southas, six buns and a half pound of ham from the shop on the corner.He makes tea and we sit by the range drinking it, eating our ham sandwiches and buns and laughing over Uncle Pa and the way he goes on about the world. He says, I swallowed the gas, I drink the pint, I donat give a fiddleras fart about the world and its cousin. If little Alphie gets tired and cranky and cries Uncle Pa pulls his s.h.i.+rt back from his chest and tells him, Here, have a suck of diddy momma.The sight of that flat chest and the nipple shocks Alphie and makes him good again.
Before Aunt Aggie comes home we have to wash the mugs and clean up so she wonat know we were stuffing ourselves with buns and ham sandwiches. Shead nag Uncle Pa for a month if she ever found out and thatas what I donat understand.Why does he let her nag him like that? He went to the Great War, he was ga.s.sed, heas big, he has a job, he 246.
makes the world laugh. Itas a mystery. Thatas what the priests and the masters tell you, everything is a mystery and you have to believe what youare told.
I could easily have Uncle Pa for a father.Wead have great times sitting by the fire in the range drinking tea and laughing over the way he farts and says, Light a match.Thatas a present from the Germans.
Aunt Aggie torments me all the time. She calls me scabby eyes. She says Iam the spitting image of my father, I have the odd manner, I have the sneaky air of a northern Presbyterian, Iall probably grow up and build an altar to Oliver Cromwell himself, Iall run off and marry an English tart and cover my house with pictures of the royal family.
I want to get away from her and I can think of only one way, to make myself sick and go to the hospital. I get up in the middle of the night and go to her backyard. I can pretend Iam going to the lavatory. I stand out in the open in the freezing weather and hope Iall catch pneumonia or the galloping consumption so that Iall go to the hospital with the nice clean sheets and the meals in the bed and books brought by the girl in the blue dress. I might meet another Patricia Madigan and learn a long poem. I stand in the backyard for ages in my s.h.i.+rt and bare feet looking up at the moon which is a ghostly galleon riding upon cloudy seas and go back to bed s.h.i.+vering hoping Iall wake up in the morning with a terrible cough and flushed cheeks. But I donat. I feel fresh and lively and Iad be in great form if I could be at home with my mother and brothers.
There are days when Aunt Aggie tells us she canat stand the sight of us another minute, Get away from me. Here, scabby eyes, take Alphie out in his pram, take your brothers, go to the park and play, do anything ye like and donat come back till teatime when the Angelus is ringing, not a minute later, do ye hear me, not a minute later. Itas cold but we donat care.We push the pram up OaConnell Avenue out to Ballinacurra or the Rosbrien Road.We let Alphie crawl around in fields to look at cows and sheep and we laugh when the cows nuzzle him. I get under the cows and squirt the milk into Alphieas mouth till heas full and throws it up. Farmers chase us till they see how small Michael and Alphie are.
Malachy laughs at the farmers. He says, Hit me now with the child in me arms.Then he has a great notion,Why canat we go to our own house and play a while? We find twigs and bits of wood in the fields and rush to Roden Lane.There are matches by the fireplace in Italy and we have a good fire going in no time. Alphie falls asleep and soon the rest of us 247.
drift off till the Angelus booms out of the Redemptorist church and we know weare in trouble with Aunt Aggie for being late.
We donat care. She can yell at us all she wants but we had a grand time out the country with the cows and the sheep and then the lovely fire above in Italy.
You can tell she never has grand times like that. Electric light and a lavatory but no grand times.
Grandma comes for her on Thursdays and Sundays and they take the bus to the hospital to see Mam.We canat go because children are not allowed and if we say,Howas Mam? they look cranky and tell us sheas all right, sheall live.Wead like to know when sheas getting out of hospital so that we can all go back home but weare afraid to open our mouths.
Malachy tells Aunt Aggie one day heas hungry and could he have a piece of bread. She hits him with a rolled-up Little Messenger of the Sacred Heart and there are tears on his eyelashes. He doesnat come home from school the next day and heas still gone at bedtime.Aunt Aggie says,Well, I suppose he ran away. Good riddance. If he was hungry head be here.
Let him find comfort in a ditch.
Next day Michael runs in from the street, Dadas here, Dadas here, and runs back out and thereas Dad sitting on the hall floor hugging Michael, crying,Your poor mother, your poor mother, and thereas a smell of drink on him. Aunt Aggie is smiling, Oh, youare here, and she makes tea and eggs and sausages. She sends me out for a bottle of stout for Dad and I wonder why sheas so pleasant and generous all of a sudden.
Michael says, Are we going to our own house, Dad?
Angela's Ashes: A Memoir Part 25
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