Angela's Ashes: A Memoir Part 11

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Mikeyas father, Peter, is a great champion. He wins bets in the pubs by drinking more pints than anyone. All he has to do is go out to the jakes, stick his finger down his throat and bring it all up so that he can start another round. Peter is such a champion he can stand in the jakes and throw up without using his finger.Heas such a champion they could chop off his fingers and head carry on regardless. He wins all that money but doesnat bring it home. Sometimes heas like my father and drinks the dole itself and thatas why Nora Molloy is often carted off to the lunatic asylum demented with worry over her hungry famis.h.i.+ng family. She knows as long as youare in the asylum youare safe from the world and its torments, thereas nothing you can do, youare protected, and whatas the use of worrying. Itas well known that all the lunatics in the asylum have to be dragged in but sheas the only one that has to be dragged out, back to her five children and the champion of all pint drinkers.

You can tell when Nora Molloy is ready for the asylum when you see her children running around white with flour from poll to toe.That happens when Peter drinks the dole money and leaves her desperate and she knows the men will come to take her away.You know sheas inside frantic with the baking. She wants to make sure the children wonat starve while sheas gone and she roams Limerick begging for flour.

She goes to priests,nuns, Protestants,Quakers. She goes to Rankas Flour Mills and begs for the sweepings from the floor. She bakes day and night. Peter begs her to stop but she screams, This is what comes of drinking the dole. He tells her the bread will only go stale.Thereas no use talking to her. Bake bake bake. If she had the money shead bake all the flour in Limerick and regions beyond. If the men didnat come from the lunatic asylum to take her away shead bake till she fell to the floor.

The children stuff themselves with so much bread people in the lane say theyare looking like loaves. Still the bread goes stale and Mikey is so bothered by the waste he talks to a rich woman with a cookbook and she tells him make bread pudding. He boils the hard bread in water and sour milk and throws in a cup of sugar and his brother loves it even if thatas all they have the fortnight their mother is in the lunatic asylum.

My father says, Do they take her away because sheas gone mad baking bread or does she go mad baking bread because theyare taking her away?

Nora comes home calm as if she had been at the seaside. She always says,Whereas Mikey? Is he alive? She worries over Mikey because heas 115.

not a proper Catholic and if he had a fit and died who knows where he might wind up in the next life. Heas not a proper Catholic because he could never receive his First Communion for fear of getting anything on his tongue that might cause a fit and choke him.The master tried over and over with bits of the Limerick Leader but Mikey kept spitting them out till the master got into a state and sent him to the priest, who wrote to the bishop, who said, Donat bother me, handle it yourself.The master sent a note home saying Mikey was to practice receiving Communion with his father or mother but even they couldnat get him to swallow a piece of the Limerick Leader in the shape of a wafer.They even tried a piece of bread shaped like the wafer with bread and jam and it was no use. The priest tells Mrs. Molloy not to worry. G.o.d moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform and surely He has a special purpose for Mikey, fits and all. She says, Isnat it remarkable he can swally all kinds of sweets and buns but if he has to swally the body of Our Lord he goes into a fit? Isnat that remarkable? She worries Mikey might have the fit and die and go to h.e.l.l if he has any cla.s.s of a sin on his soul though everyone knows heas an angel out of heaven. Mikey tells her G.o.d is not going to afflict you with the fit and then boot you into h.e.l.l on top of it.What kind of a G.o.d would do a thing like that?

Are you sure, Mikey?

I am. I read it in a book.

He sits under the lamppost at the top of the lane and laughs over his First Communion day, which was all a cod. He couldnat swallow the wafer but did that stop his mother from parading him around Limerick in his little black suit for The Collection? She said to Mikey,Well, Iam not lying so Iam not. Iam only saying to the neighbors, Hereas Mikey in his First Communion suit.Thatas all Iam saying, mind you.Hereas Mikey.

If they think you swallied your First Communion who am I to contradict them and disappoint them? Mikeyas father said, Donat worry, Cyclops.You have loads of time. Jesus didnat become a proper Catholic till he took the bread and wine at the Last Supper and He was thirtythree years of age.Nora Molloy said,Will you stop calling him Cyclops?

He has two eyes in his head and heas not a Greek. But Mikeyas father, champion of all pint drinkers, is like my uncle Pa Keating, he doesnat give a fiddleras fart what the world says and thatas the way Iad like to be myself.

Mikey tells me the best thing about First Communion is The Col- 116.

lection.Your mother has to get you a new suit somehow so she can show you off to the neighbors and relations and they give you sweets and money and you can go to the Lyric Cinema to see Charlie Chaplin.

What about James Cagney?

Never mind James Cagney. Lots of blather. Charlie Chaplin is your only man. But you have to be with your mother on The Collection.The grown-up people of Limerick are not going to be handing out money to every little Tom d.i.c.k and Mick with a First Communion suit that doesnat have his mother with him.

Mikey got over five s.h.i.+llings on his First Communion day and ate so many sweets and buns he threw up in the Lyric Cinema and Frank Goggin, the ticket man, kicked him out. He says he didnat care because he had money left over and went to the Savoy Cinema the same day for a pirate film and ate Cadbury chocolate and drank lemonade till his stomach stuck out a mile. He canat wait for Confirmation day because youare older, thereas another collection and that brings more money than First Communion. Heall go to the cinema the rest of his life, sit next to girls from lanes and do dirty things like an expert. He loves his mother but heall never get married for fear he might have a wife in and out of the lunatic asylum.Whatas the use of getting married when you can sit in cinemas and do dirty things with girls from lanes who donat care what they do because they already did it with their brothers. If you donat get married you wonat have any children at home bawling for tea and bread and gasping with the fit and looking in every direction with their eyes.When heas older heall go to the pub like his father, drink pints galore, stick the finger down the throat to bring it all up, drink more pints, win the bets and bring the money home to his mother to keep her from going demented. He says heas not a proper Catholic which means heas doomed so he can do anything he b.l.o.o.d.y well likes.

He says, Iall tell you more when you grow up, Frankie.Youare too young now and you donat know your a.r.s.e from your elbow.

The master,Mr. Benson, is very old. He roars and spits all over us every day.The boys in the front row hope he has no diseases for itas the spit that carries all the diseases and he might be spreading consumption right and left. He tells us we have to know the catechism backwards, forwards and sideways.We have to know the Ten Commandments, the 117.

Seven Virtues, Divine and Moral, the Seven Sacraments, the Seven Deadly Sins.We have to know by heart all the prayers, the Hail Mary, the Our Father, the Confiteor, the Apostlesa Creed, the Act of Contrition, the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary.We have to know them in Irish and English and if we forget an Irish word and use English he goes into a rage and goes at us with the stick. If he had his way wead be learning our religion in Latin, the language of the saints who communed intimately with G.o.d and His Holy Mother, the language of the early Christians, who huddled in the catacombs and went forth to die on rack and sword, who expired in the foaming jaws of the ravenous lion. Irish is fine for patriots, English for traitors and informers, but itas the Latin that gains us entrance to heaven itself. Itas the Latin the martyrs prayed in when the barbarians pulled out their nails and cut their skin off inch by inch. He tells us weare a disgrace to Ireland and her long sad history, that wead be better off in Africa praying to bush or tree. He tells us weare hopeless, the worst cla.s.s he ever had for First Communion but as sure as G.o.d made little apples heall make Catholics of us, heall beat the idler out of us and the Sanctifying Grace into us.

Brendan Quigley raises his hand.We call him Question Quigley because heas always asking questions. He canat help himself. Sir, he says, whatas Sanctifying Grace?

The master rolls his eyes to heaven. Heas going to kill Quigley.

Instead he barks at him,Never mind whatas Sanctifying Grace,Quigley.

Thatas none of your business.Youare here to learn the catechism and do what youare told.Youare not here to be asking questions.There are too many people wandering the world asking questions and thatas what has us in the state weare in and if I find any boy in this cla.s.s asking questions I wonat be responsible for what happens. Do you hear me, Quigley?

I do.

I do what?

I do, sir.

He goes on with his speech,There are boys in this cla.s.s who will never know the Sanctifying Grace. And why? Because of the greed. I have heard them abroad in the schoolyard talking about First Communion day, the happiest day of your life.Are they talking about receiving the body and blood of Our Lord? Oh, no.Those greedy little blaguards are talking about the money theyall get,The Collection.Theyall go from 118.

house to house in their little suits like beggars for The Collection.And will they take any of that money and send it to the little black babies in Africa? Will they think of those little pagans doomed forever for lack of baptism and knowledge of the True Faith? Little black babies denied knowledge of the Mystical Body of Christ? Limbo is packed with little black babies flying around and crying for their mothers because theyall never be admitted to the ineffable presence of Our Lord and the glorious company of saints, martyrs, virgins. Oh, no. Itas off to the cinemas, our First Communion boys run to wallow in the filth spewed across the world by the devilas henchmen in Hollywood. Isnat that right, McCourt?

aTis, sir.

Question Quigley raises his hand again.There are looks around the room and we wonder if itas suicide heas after.

Whatas henchmen, sir?

The masteras face goes white, then red. His mouth tightens and opens and spit flies everywhere. He walks to Question and drags him from his seat. He snorts and stutters and his spit flies around the room.

He flogs Question across the shoulders, the bottom, the legs. He grabs him by the collar and drags him to the front of the room.

Look at this specimen, he roars.

Question is shaking and crying. Iam sorry, sir.

The master mocks him. Iam sorry, sir.What are you sorry for?

Iam sorry I asked the question. Iall never ask a question again, sir.

The day you do,Quigley, will be the day you wish G.o.d would take you to His bosom.What will you wish, Quigley?

That G.o.d will take me to His bosom, sir.

Go back to your seat, you omadhaun, you poltroon, you thing from the far dark corner of a bog.

He sits down with the stick before him on the desk. He tells Question to stop the whimpering and be a man. If he hears a single boy in this cla.s.s asking foolish questions or talking about The Collection again heall flog that boy till the blood spurts.

What will I do, boys?

Flog the boy, sir.

Till?

Till the blood spurts, sir.

Now, Clohessy,what is the Sixth Commandment?

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Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Thou shalt not commit adultery what?

Thou shalt not commit adultery, sir.

And what is adultery, Clohessy?

Impure thoughts, impure words, impure deeds, sir.

Good,Clohessy.Youare a good boy.You may be slow and forgetful in the sir department and you may not have a shoe to your foot but youare powerful with the Sixth Commandment and that will keep you pure.

Paddy Clohessy has no shoe to his foot, his mother shaves his head to keep the lice away, his eyes are red, his nose always snotty.The sores on his kneecaps never heal because he picks at the scabs and puts them in his mouth. His clothes are rags he has to share with his six brothers and a sister and when he comes to school with a b.l.o.o.d.y nose or a black eye you know he had a fight over the clothes that morning. He hates school.Heas seven going on eight, the biggest and oldest boy in the cla.s.s, and he canat wait to grow up and be fourteen so that he can run away and pa.s.s for seventeen and join the English army and go to India where itas nice and warm and heall live in a tent with a dark girl with the red dot on her forehead and heall be lying there eating figs, thatas what they eat in India, figs, and sheall cook the curry day and night and plonk on a ukulele and when he has enough money heall send for the whole family and theyall all live in the tent especially his poor father whoas at home coughing up great gobs of blood because of the consumption.When my mother sees Paddy on the street she says,Wisha, look at that poor child.Heas a skeleton with rags and if they were making a film about the famine head surely be put in the middle of it.

I think Paddy likes me because of the raisin and I feel a bit guilty because I wasnat that generous in the first place.The master,Mr. Benson, said the government was going to give us the free lunch so we wouldnat have to be going home in the freezing weather. He led us down to a cold room in the dungeons of Leamyas School where the charwoman, Nellie Ahearn, was handing out the half pint of milk and the raisin bun.The milk was frozen in the bottles and we had to melt it between our thighs.The boys joked and said the bottles would freeze our things off and the master roared,Any more of that talk and Iall warm the bottles on the backs of yeer heads.We all searched our raisin buns for a raisin but Nellie said they must have forgotten to put them in and 120.

shead inquire from the man who delivered.We searched again every day till at last I found a raisin in my bun and held it up.The boys started grousing and said they wanted a raisin and Nellie said it wasnat her fault.

Shead ask the man again. Now the boys were begging me for the raisin and offering me everything, a slug of their milk, a pencil, a comic book.

Toby Mackey said I could have his sister and Mr. Benson heard him and took him out to the hallway and knocked him around till he howled. I wanted the raisin for myself but I saw Paddy Clohessy standing in the corner with no shoes and the room was freezing and he was s.h.i.+vering like a dog that had been kicked and I always felt sad over kicked dogs so I walked over and gave Paddy the raisin because I didnat know what else to do and all the boys yelled that I was a fool and a f.e.c.kina eejit and Iad regret the day and after I handed the raisin to Paddy I longed for it but it was too late now because he pushed it right into his mouth and gulped it and looked at me and said nothing and I said in my head what kind of an eejit are you to be giving away your raisin.

Mr. Benson gave me a look and said nothing and Nellie Ahearn said,Youare a great oulaYankee, Frankie.

The priest will come soon to examine us on the catechism and everything else. The master himself has to show us how to receive Holy Communion. He tells us gather round him. He fills his hat with the Limerick Leader torn into little bits. He gives Paddy Clohessy the hat, kneels on the floor, tells Paddy to take one bit of paper and place it on his tongue. He shows us how to stick out the tongue, receive the bit of paper, hold it a moment, draw in the tongue, fold your hands in prayer, look toward heaven, close your eyes in adoration,wait for the paper to melt in your mouth, swallow it, and thank G.o.d for the gift, the Sanctifying Grace wafting in on the odor of sanct.i.ty.When he sticks out his tongue we have to hold in the laugh because we never saw a big purple tongue before. He opens his eyes to catch the boys who are giggling but he canat say anything because he still has G.o.d on his tongue and itas a holy moment.He gets off his knees and tells us kneel around the cla.s.sroom for the Holy Communion practice. He goes around the room placing bits of paper on our tongues and mumbling in Latin. Some boys giggle and he roars at them that if the giggling doesnat stop itas not Holy Communion theyall be getting but the Last Rites and what is that sacrament called, McCourt?

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Extreme Unction, sir.

Thatas right, McCourt. Not bad for a Yank from the sinful sh.o.r.es of Amerikay.

He tells us we have to be careful to stick out our tongues far enough so that the Communion wafer wonat fall to the floor. He says,Thatas the worst thing that can happen to a priest. If the wafer slides off your tongue that poor priest has to get down on his two knees, pick it up with his own tongue and lick the floor around it in case it bounced from one spot to another. The priest could get a splinter that would make his tongue swell to the size of a turnip and thatas enough to choke you and kill you entirely.

He tells us that next to a relic of the True Cross the Communion wafer is the holiest thing in the world and our First Communion is the holiest moment in our lives.Talking about First Communion makes the master all excited. He paces back and forth,waves his stick, tells us we must never forget that the moment the Holy Communion is placed on our tongues we become members of that most glorious congregation, the One,Holy,Roman,Catholic and Apostolic Church, that for two thousand years men, women and children have died for the Faith, that the Irish have nothing to be ashamed of in the martyr department.

Havenat we provided martyrs galore? Havenat we bared our necks to the Protestant ax? Havenat we mounted the scaffold, singing, as if embarking on a picnic, havenat we, boys?

We have, sir.

What have we done, boys?

Bared our necks to the Protestant ax, sir.

And?

Mounted the scaffold singing, sir.

As if ?

Embarking on a picnic, sir.

He says that, perhaps, in this cla.s.s there is a future priest or a martyr for the Faith, though he doubts it very much for we are the laziest gang of ignoramuses it has ever been his misfortune to teach.

But it takes all kinds, he says, and surely G.o.d had some purpose when He sent the likes of ye to infest this earth. Surely G.o.d had a purpose when among us He sent Clohessy with no shoes, Quigley with his d.a.m.nable questions and McCourt heavy with sin from America. And remember this, boys,G.o.d did not send His only begotten Son to hang 122.

on the cross so that ye can go around on yeer First Communion day with the paws clutching for The Collection. Our Lord died so that ye might be redeemed. It is enough to receive the gift of Faith.Are ye listening to me?

We are, sir.

And whatas enough?

The gift of Faith, sir.

Good. Go home.

At night three of us sit under the light pole at the top of the lane reading, Mikey, Malachy and I. The Molloys are like us with their father drinking the dole money or the wages and leaving no money for candles or paraffin oil for the lamp. Mikey reads books and the rest of us read comic books. His father, Peter, brings books from the Carnegie Library so that heall have something to do when heas not drinking pints or when heas looking after the family anytime Mrs. Molloy is in the lunatic asylum. He lets Mikey read any book he likes and now Mikey is reading this book about Cuchulain and talking as if he knows everything about him. I want to tell him I knew all about Cuchulain when I was three going on four, that I saw Cuchulain in Dublin, that Cuchulain thinks nothing of dropping into my dreams. I want to tell him stop talking about Cuchulain, heas mine, he was mine years ago when I was young, but I canat because Mikey reads us a story I never heard of before, a dirty story about Cuchulain which I can never tell my father or mother, the story of how Emer became Cuchulainas wife.

Cuchulain was getting to be an old man of twenty-one. He was lonely and wanted to get married, which made him weak, says Mikey, and got him killed in the end.All the women in Ireland were mad about Cuchulain and they wanted to marry him. He said that would be grand, he wouldnat mind marrying all the women of Ireland. If he could fight all the men of Ireland why couldnat he marry all the women? But the King, Conor MacNessa, said, Thatas all very well for you, Cu, but the men of Ireland donat want to be lonely in the far reaches of the night.

The King decided there would have to be a contest to see who would marry Cuchulain and it would be a p.i.s.sing contest. All the women of Ireland a.s.sembled on the plains of Muirthemne to see who could p.i.s.s the longest and it was Emer. She was the champion woman p.i.s.ser of 123.

Ireland and married Cuchulain and thatas why to this day she is called Great Bladdered Emer.

Mikey and Malachy laugh over this story though I donat think Malachy understands it. Heas young and far from his First Communion and heas only laughing over the p.i.s.s word. Then Mikey tells me Iave committed a sin by listening to a story that has that word in it and when I go to my First Confession Iall have to tell the priest. Malachy says, Thatas right. p.i.s.s is a bad word and you have to tell the priest because atis a sin word.

I donat know what to do. How can I go to the priest and tell him this terrible thing in my First Confession? All the boys know what sins theyare going to tell so that theyall get the First Communion and make The Collection and go to see James Cagney and eat sweets and cakes at the Lyric Cinema.The master helped us with our sins and everyone has the same sins. I hit my brother. I told a lie. I stole a penny from my motheras purse. I disobeyed my parents, I ate a sausage on Friday.

But now I have a sin no one else has and the priest is going to be shocked and drag me out of the confession box into the aisle and out into the street where everyone will know I listened to a story about Cuchulainas wife being the champion woman p.i.s.ser in all Ireland. Iall never be able to make my First Communion and mothers will hold their small children up and point at me and say, Look at him. Heas like Mikey Molloy, never made his First Communion,wandering around in a state of sin, never made The Collection, never saw James Cagney.

Iam sorry I ever heard of First Communion and The Collection.Iam sick and I donat want any tea or bread or anything. Mam tells Dad itas a strange thing when a child wonat have his bread and tea and Dad says, Och, heas just nervous over the First Communion. I want to go over to him and sit on his lap and tell him what Mikey Molloy did to me but Iam too big to be sitting on laps and if I did Malachy would go out in the lane and tell everyone I was a big baby. Iad like to tell my troubles to the Angel on the Seventh Step but heas busy bringing babies to mothers all over the world. Still, Iall ask Dad.

Dad, does the Angel on the Seventh Step have other jobs besides bringing babies?

He does.

Would the Angel on the Seventh Step tell you what to do if you didnat know what to do?

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Och, he would, son, he would.Thatas the job of an angel, even the one on the seventh step.

Dad goes for a long walk, Mam takes Michael and goes to see Grandma, Malachy plays in the lane, and I have the house to myself so that I can sit on the seventh step and talk to the angel. I know heas there because the seventh step feels warmer than the other steps and thereas a light in my head. I tell him my troubles and I hear a voice. Fear not, says the voice.

Heas talking backward and I tell him I donat know what heas talking about.

Do not fear, says the voice.Tell the priest your sin and youall be forgiven.

Next morning Iam up early and drinking tea with Dad and telling him about the Angel on the Seventh Step. He places his hand on my forehead to see if Iam feeling all right. He asks if Iam sure I had a light in my head and heard a voice and what did the voice say?

I tell him the voice said Fear not and that means Do not fear.