Ma, Now I'm Goin Up in the World, page 23
‘OK, Martha. Suppose you were about to step out the door and you saw it was raining. What would you do?’ he said, looking at me in earnest, waiting for me answer.
I thought about this, getting the picture of spilling rain outside, then wondered what the answer should be.
‘What would you do?’ he said, trying to help me.
‘I, eh, I would run back inside and wait for it to stop raining!’ I said, thinking that’s what I would do.
‘OK,’ he said slowly, not really sure about me answer. ‘But suppose you had an urgent appointment, like you have with me today?’ he said, looking more hopeful I would come up with the right answer.
‘Well, eh, in that case I would make a run for it, hoping the bus won’t be too long in coming,’ I said slowly, not sure if this was the right answer.
‘OK!’ he laughed. ‘Do you know what you were supposed to say?’ he said, grinning at me.
‘No, what?’ I said, dying to hear the right answer.
‘Bring an umbrella!’ he laughed.
‘But I don’t have an umbrella!’ I said. ‘So how can I bring one?’
‘Well, that’s true!’ he said, shaking his mop of dirty blond hair and writing something down. ‘I’ll give you points for logic on that one,’ he grinned, looking up at me quick, then looking down at his papers again.
I waited for more. Hoping to get the next one right.
‘Now! I will give you a list of numbers. You listen carefully to what I say then tell me the next number in the sequence.’
Sequence? What does that mean? I wonder.
‘Eleven. Thirteen. Sixteen. Twenty. Give me the next four numbers in the sequence,’ he said, speaking slowly.
I listened to the missing gaps. ‘Twenty-five. Thirty-one. Thirty-eight. Forty-six.’
‘Excellent!’ he shouted, laughing. ‘Now! Next one. What is fifty per cent of ten pounds?’ he said, looking at me.
‘Five pounds,’ I said, quick as a flash.
‘Good,’ he said quietly. ‘Twenty-five per cent.’
That’s a quarter, I thought. ‘Two pounds ten shillings,’ I said, without too much thinking.
‘Well done! Now! What is forty per cent?’
I went blank, thinking, I can’t figure that one out. ‘No!’ I shook me head. ‘I can only do halfs and quarters. That’s all I ever managed to figure out!’
‘Did you go on to secondary school?’ he asked me.
‘No.’ I shook me head, not saying I didn’t even barely make it to baby school. I only got a few months at school in the convent before the nuns took me out to work for them.
‘OK,’ he said slowly, dropping his head down to his papers, looking like he was trying to figure me out or something.
Me heart dropped, seeing him not looking too happy. Oh, please, God! Don’t let me fail his tests. I will be grateful to you, God, for the rest of me life if I get past him and into the secretarial college.
‘Let’s try this one!’ he said, lifting up a sheaf of papers and settling them together. ‘Every evening a man returns home from work. Each evening he takes the lift to the fourth floor. He lives on the sixth floor but he gets out and walks up the other two flights, taking the stairs. But,’ the doctor said, pausing and waving his finger at me, ‘every morning when he starts out to work he takes the lift to the ground floor. Why does he do that! Hmm! What do you think, Martha?’ Then he let the papers drop against his chest and leaned over the desk, smiling at me, waiting for me answer.
‘Ah, because he wanted the exercise! Because he works in an office sitting on his ars . . . behind all day long.’
‘Nope!’ the doctor grinned, shaking his head and closing his eyes, then looking at me again.
I lowered me head to the desk, not seeing it. I pictured getting into a lift and staring up at the buttons. One floor, two . . . seeing the row of buttons all in a line going up the wall. Not because he wants the exercise, but he comes all the way down in the morning . . . I pictured the buttons again. Then me mind’s eye flew to the buttons coming down in the morning. Ground would be the first button.
‘Because he was a midget! He couldn’t reach the top button for the number six. He could only reach as far as four! But coming down was easy. It was the first button!’
‘Brilliant piece of deduction, Watson!’ he shouted, slamming down the papers.
‘I got it right!’ I said, lifting me head sideways to get a look at his head hanging down to fix his papers.
‘Indeed you did! Well done! You have above-average IQ,’ he said, grinning at me and putting his papers back into his file.
‘So did that mean I passed?’ I asked him, holding me breath in case I was jumping the gun.
‘With flying colours!’ he said, standing up and coming around to lead me to the door.
‘Eh, what is an IQ?’ I asked, wondering what I was good at. Above average, he said!
‘You are above average intelligence!’ he said, smiling down at me. ‘In other words, a very intelligent young lady who will go far!’
‘Yeah!’ I said, smiling up at him with me heart lepping with excitement.
‘Yep! You should have no problem coming to grips with your course!’
‘Ohh! I really have passed, so, then?!’
‘Take it from me you have!’ he said, slapping me back and laughing. Then he opened the door and held it wide. ‘Bye, bye!’ he said, getting another look at me boots and looking me up and down, seeing me wearing all the colours of the rainbow in me new outfit.
‘Bye, bye, Doctor!’ I shouted happily, waving as he watched me then slowly shut the door.
I’m finished! That’s it! I’m going to be going to the secretarial college. Yeah! I leapt into the air with me heart flying with happiness! ‘Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside!’ I sang as I hopped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Then I was out onto the street again. OK! What now? I wonder what time it is? I could feel the thirty bob burning a hole in me pocket. Then me belly rumbled and suddenly I was starving with the hunger. So! What’s the first thing I’m going to do now? I think I will find somewhere to eat. Then mosey on over to see the nun.
I bounced along the road, hearing the birds nattering to each other while some of them were busy getting on with the business of building themself a nest. I could see two flying across the little park with long bits of twigs gripped between their beaks. They looked like they were working together. The sun was trying to get through the white thick clouds but was only managing to give a watery bit of sunlight. It wasn’t very warm. I pulled up the hood on the back of me jacket, making meself look like an all-coloured teddy bear. I felt snug as a bug in a rug as I walked on, not seeing too many people or cars. Me chest was buzzing with contentment. Gawd! It’s great to be alive on a day like today. Nothing to bother me and not a care in the world. Who could ask for more? Ah, thanks, God, for looking after me. I always knew you wouldn’t let me down, not even in me darkest hour of need! I knew, even then, you were still looking out for me. How lucky can a body get? Ending up where I am now! I thought to meself as I headed back down to Baggot Street.
I stopped on the corner and looked around, seeing the line of shops and the street busy with people running back to work after getting their dinner. Right! Din-dins! Where will I go? I thought, looking up and down and all round the length and breadth of Baggot Street. Then I looked to the side of me. ‘Maggie’s Eating House’ the sign said. I looked up at the green building, seeing people sitting and eating and looking down on the street through a big window. Wonder what they’re offering here?
I stepped into a long hall and made me way up the stairs. On a little landing a door was open showing a toilet. Think I will hop in there first. I rushed in and closed the door then sat down. But not putting me arse on the toilet seat. I don’t want to catch anything. Me ma always said you would catch disease from using public toilets. You never know where people have been! Or what they were up to! Someone had written on the back of the door, using a lipstick, ‘The definition of contraception is what Hitler’s mother should have used sixty years ago!’ I thought about that. Oh, yeah! Then he wouldn’t have been born! Someone else had written underneath, ‘If no such thing available – as in this poxy backward country – then an aspirin can come in just as handy. Simply stick it between your knees!’ How would that work? I wondered. Ah, yeah! Then you can’t open your knees! Very good! I like that one. But you wouldn’t be able to hold it for long! It would fall after a few minutes!
I flushed the chain and looked at the little sink for washing me hands. No towel! I dipped me fingers under the cold tap and hurried out, making me way up the rest of the stairs, and stepped onto a landing. I could smell grub and hear the voices of people speaking very loud.
I pushed in the door, seeing a load of people sitting around a long, wide wooden counter. They were all sitting up on high wooden stools talking to a really fat, stout woman sitting behind the counter. The room was thick with smoke. And along with the smell of cabbage I could get a very heavy, sickly-sweet smell of something. It smelled like smoke. And it wafted outa the big, long, thick cigarette a fella sitting in front of the bar was holding between his two fingers. He took long sucking drags on it, then held it in his lungs and eventually let it out, blowing it into the faces of everyone sitting around him. ‘Oh! Manna from heaven,’ he croaked, closing his eyes, looking the world of contentment. Then he dropped his neck inside a big hairy fur coat and slowly waved it from side to side, getting the wrinkles out of his muscles. Then he passed the cigarette to a tall, skinny young fella sitting on the seat next to him with long, thin fair hair that nearly tipped the collar of his shirt.
‘We need to be radical, man! It’s the only way to bring down the establishment, I tell you!’ gasped another fella with a big thick mop of curly hair that looked like a bush growing on his head. ‘We need to get the fascist stinkers to sit up and take notice of us,’ he snorted, slamming his fist down on the counter and flicking his granny glasses back up off his nose.
‘Yes! Hear, hear!’ shouted another little weasel, tearing the college scarf off his neck and throwing it down on the counter in disgust. Then lifting his arse, not realising he knocked his sheepskin coat off the seat, landing it on the floor, while he had a good fart! Sending a wave of blue poison smelling like rotten eggs floating in my direction to land under me nose.
Fuck! The smell! I moved away, then stood, wanting to get the attention of the fat woman to see what they were serving and how much it costs.
‘Saturday Night and Sunday Morning! That’s the book to set you on the right road!’ said the hairy coat, looking around at everyone and shaking his head, dropping his mouth. ‘Radical is the name of the game!’
‘Oh! Blow that! You need to read Jean-Paul Sartre!’ puffed the long hair, picking at his long pointy sharp nose, then examining his finger to see what he had. He flicked what he got in the direction of the fat woman. ‘The Roads to Freedom! And Iron in the Soul! That will set you straight! We are all existentialists!’ he moaned, looking like he had just lost a pound and found a penny!
Aw, fuck! This place is only for Beatniks! And yer woman is not taking a blind bit a notice of me, I muttered to meself, feeling about to lose me rag.
‘We have to raise awareness among the masses!’ she huffed, leaning into them and resting her six chins on her big fat hands that are joined together like she is praying. ‘We have to have a revolution for women!’ she hissed, getting annoyed when no one took any notice.
‘I say we have a protest!’ squeaked the weasel. ‘Get everyone up in arms!’
‘Hear, hear!’ shouted hairy coat. Then he said, ‘What’s this one about?’
‘Well, women’s rights! Freedom for women! We need to be liberated. We have been shackled to the men LONG ENOUGH!’ snorted the fat aul one, slamming her fist down on the counter.
‘Oh, but come on, Maggie! You women already have the vote!’ said a little wizened fella with greasy black hair and a rash all over his hands and face. He sounded like he had a woman’s voice. Then he started laughing, making it sound like he was gasping for breath.
‘Listen! How dare you, Joe O’Brien? The biggest revolution of all time is yet to come. It will shake the whole world. We women were meant to rule the world. You fellas have had it too good for long enough! This is no laughing matter, I will have you know!’ she screamed, banging both her fists down on the counter. ‘You little pipsqueak!’ she gasped, getting all purple in the face and boring holes in him with her big red goitre eyes.
He stared and snuffled, making snotty sounds, then blinked. Shocked at the idea his joke only landed flat on its arse.
‘Excuse me, Missus!’ I roared, getting weak from the hunger and dizzy from the sweet smell. I wanted me dinner.
The woman lifted her head to me. ‘Take a seat over there,’ she said, pointing in the direction of all the near empty chairs and tables. ‘Do you want the three-course?’
‘Yeah! What are you serving?’
‘Soup – vegetable, mince, potato and cabbage followed by a cup of tea.’
‘Eh, how much is that, Missus?’
‘Three shillings and sixpence.’
‘Right! Thanks! I’ll have that.’
‘One customer! Three-course, Fanny, dear!’ shouted the fat woman into an open door beside her where the grub was going to come out through.
I made me way over to a round corner table next to the big window where I could sit and look down watching the people going by. The only other customers sitting at the tables were next to me. I stared at a woman wearing a coloured shirt with a man’s tie. She had on a pair of black trousers and a man’s jacket. Maybe she’s not a woman, I thought, staring at her stone-grey hair that was cut short like a man’s. I looked down at her men’s black laced-up shoes. Yeah! Must be a man. But he has a big chest! Can’t figure that out!
‘Oh, Poppy! Did you hear the latest?’ a woman with a green scarf tied around her neck, wearing black eyeliner curling out at the edges, leaned over and said to the man. ‘No! What latest?’ he said, sounding like a half-man with the voice of a woman who has been up all night smoking and drinking herself to death.
Poppy? That’s a woman’s name. I stared over with me mouth hanging open trying to work out was she really a she or a he, while Poppy sat forward, resting her chest on the table, ready to drink in every word yer woman was saying.
‘It’s a scream,’ the woman said, holding a smelly cigarette in her mouth and squinting with the smoke. Then she started coughing but wouldn’t let go of the cigarette, even with the amount of smoke pouring itself into her face and smothering her in a fog. She patted her huge mass of curly, fuzzy red hair, trying to flatten it down in the front with the palms of her two hands.
‘Aw, really! It’s a corker!’ she mumbled, squinting with one eye shut. Shaking the cigarette up an down, trying not to let it slip outa her mouth while she fixed a long thick black velvet band, letting it cover a bit of her forehead and sliding it underneath the nest of hair, letting the rest of it blow in the air, making it look like she carried a big gollop of red candy floss on top of her head. ‘Tipsy Lawler, you know him?’
Poppy nodded her head, sliding her eyes down on the packet of cigarettes sitting on the table. ‘Before you start, Mamie! Throw over that packet of Gauloises!’ she said, pointing to the fat little blue packet of cigarettes belonging to Mamie.
‘Oh, get on with the story!’ said another woman sitting next to Mamie, giving her an elbow in the chest.
‘Patience, Willie darling!’ Mamie laughed, taking the cigarette outa her mouth and spilling the long ash down the front of her wine jumper that didn’t match with her hair.
‘Oh! Do you mean that defrocked priest who is on the run from Maynooth?’ Willie said, rolling herself a big cigarette, then puffing out more sweet sickly smoke. Letting it come over in my direction. With me having no way out but to breathe the bleedin smoke in.
‘Yaw! He was caught smooching one of the girls.’
‘She was in his theology class or something,’ said the Willie woman with the big lips plastered in pink lipstick and her mousey-brown hair tied up in a brown ribbon. I stared at her, seeing she had a hatchet face. It was too long and plain, with a long pointy chin.
‘Absolute rubbish and nonsense!’ roared Mamie. ‘He was only a clerical student! They kicked him out when they rumbled to his shenanigans! His parents were too mean to pay for university fees, so they hatched up a plot. Wait for it, girls! They sent him on for the priesthood. Telling him he could leave before his ordination, providing he got his degree first!’ They all screamed laughing.
‘Now! He told me,’ and they all leaned in with their heads pressed together, not wanting to miss a word, ‘the bishop denounced us from the pulpit! Said we were a disgrace to womanhood, he called it. Then really started throwing brickbats. He called us harlots!’
‘Who, us?’ they roared! ‘We are all still pure as the driven snow! Absolute virgins, one and all!’ they roared, with their eyeballs hanging out and their hands on their chests. Then they roared their heads with the laughing, slapping each other.
‘Stop! Wait! I’m not finished. It doesn’t end there,’ screamed Mamie, laughing and getting annoyed because her story kept getting interrupted. ‘He said we were Communists!’
They all stared for a minute, flying their eyes from one to the other, then started roaring like a pack of hyenas, landing their heads in each other’s laps. Poppy rocked back on her chair and went flying, lying plastered on the turned-up chair with her legs stuck in the air. Everyone looked around to see what was happening. The other two sent the table moving on top of her with their grabbing and holding, trying to get themself a breath with the laugh on them.
‘He did! He did!’ Mamie squeaked, shaking her head up and down at them, getting herself all red in the face.
I spotted me dinner coming. A little fat woman wearing a long white apron appeared carrying a tray with me soup and dinner. She landed it down on the table and took away the tray. ‘Come on, girls! Share the joke!’ she said, turning to the three women upending the place beside me.
