Angela's Ashes: A Memoir Part 20

Mikeyas hand goes faster in his pocket, so fast the spout gives a lurch and collapses and Mikey is rolling on the ground yelping, Iam dead. Iam destroyed. Oh, G.o.d.You can see the froth on his lips and the blood that comes from biting his tongue.

Quasimodoas mother comes screaming through the door,What in the name of Jesus! and the kitchen light fills the yard.The sisters are squawking from the window above. Billy tries to escape and she drags him off the wall. She tells him run to OaConnor the chemist around the corner to ring up an ambulance or a doctor or something for Mikey.

She screams at us to get into the kitchen. She kicks Quasimodo into the hall. Heas on his hands and knees and she drags him to the coal hole under the stairs and locks him in. Stay there till you come to your senses.

Heas crying and calling to her in a pure Limerick accent. Ah, Mamma,Mamma, let me out.The rats is here. I only want to go to the BBC, Mamma. Aw, Jasus, Mamma, Jasus. Iall never let anyone up the spout again. Iall send money from London, Mamma.Mamma!

Mikey is still on his back, jerking and twisting around the yard.The ambulance takes him off to the hospital with a broken shoulder and his tongue in ribbons.

Our mothers are there in no time.Mrs. Dooley says, Iam disgraced, so I am, disgraced. My daughters canat wash theirselves of a Friday night without the whole world gawking in the window and them boys there 189.

are in a state of sin and should be taken to the priest for confession before their Confirmation tomorrow.

But Mam says, I donat know about the rest of the world but I saved a whole year for Frankas Confirmation suit and Iam not going to the priest to have him tell me my son is not fit for Confirmation so that Iall have to wait another year when he grows out of this suit and all because he climbed a spout for an innocent gawk at the scrawny a.r.s.e of Mona Dooley.

She drags me home by the ear and makes me kneel before the Pope.

Swear, she says, swear to that Pope that you didnat look at Mona Dooley in her pelt.

I swear.

If youare lying you wonat be in a state of grace for Confirmation tomorrow and thatas the worst kind of sacrilege.

I swear.

Only the bishop himself could forgive a sacrilege like that.

I swear.

All right. Go to bed and from this day out stay far away from that misfortunate Quasimodo Dooley.

We are all confirmed the next day.The bishop asks me a catechism question,What is the Fourth Commandment? and I tell him,Honor thy father and thy mother. He pats my cheek and that makes me a soldier of the True Church. I kneel in the pew and think of Quasimodo locked in the coal hole under the stairs and I wonder, Should I give him the s.h.i.+lling anyway for his career at the BBC?

But I forget all about Quasimodo because my nose starts bleeding and I feel dizzy. Confirmation boys and girls are outside St. Josephas with their parents and there is hugging and kissing in the bright sun and I donat care. My father is working and I donat care. My mother kisses me and I donat care.The boys talk about The Collection and I donat care.

My nose wonat stop and Mam is worried Iall ruin my suit. She runs into the church to see if Stephen Carey, the sacristan, would spare her a rag and he gives her some kind of canvas cloth that makes my nose sore.She says, Do you want to make your collection? and I tell her I donat care.

Malachy says, Do, do, Frankie, and heas sad because I promised Iad take him to the Lyric Cinema to see the film and stuff ourselves with sweets.

I want to lie down. I could lie down there on the steps of St. Josephas 190.

and sleep forever. Mam says, Grandma is making a nice breakfast, and the mention of food makes me so sick I run to the edge of the pavement to throw up and the whole world is looking at me and I donat care. Mam says shead better take me home and put me to bed and my pals look surprised that anyone can go to bed when thereas a collection to be made.

She helps me take off my Confirmation suit and puts me to bed.

She wets a rag and places it under my neck and after awhile the bleeding stops. She brings tea but the look of it makes me sick and I have to throw up in the bucket. Mrs. Hannon comes in from next door and I can hear her say thatas a very sick child and he should have a doctor.

Mam says itas Sat.u.r.day, the Dispensary is closed and where would you get a doctor?

Dad comes home from his job at Rankas Flour Mills and tells Mam Iam going through a stage, growing pains. Grandma comes up and says the same thing. She says when boys go from the one number year, which is nine, to the two number year, which is ten, theyare changing and p.r.o.ne to the nosebleed. She says I might have too much blood in me anyway and a good cleaning out wouldnat do me one bit of harm.

The day pa.s.ses and Iam in and out of sleep.Malachy and Michael come into the bed at night and I can hear Malachy say, Frankie is very hot. Michael says, Heas bleeding on my leg. Mam puts the wet rag on my nose and a key on my neck but it wonat stop the bleeding. On Sunday morning thereas blood on my chest and all around me. Mam tells Dad Iam bleeding through my bottom and he says I might have a case of the runs, which is common with the growing pains.

Dr.Troy is our doctor but heas away on holiday and the man that comes to see me on Monday has a smell of whiskey on him. He examines me and tells my mother I have a bad cold and keep me in bed.Days pa.s.s and I sleep and bleed.Mam makes tea and beef tea and I donat want it. She even brings ice cream and the look of it makes me sick. Mrs.

Hannon comes in again and says that doctor doesnat know what heas talking about, see if Dr.Troy is back.

Mam comes with Dr.Troy. He feels my forehead, rolls up my eyelids, turns me over to see my back, picks me up and runs to his motor car. Mam runs after him and he tells her I have typhoid fever. Mam cries,Oh,G.o.d,oh,G.o.d,am I to lose the whole family? Will it ever end?

She gets into the car, holds me in her lap and moans all the way to the Fever Hospital at the City Home.

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The bed has cool white sheets.The nurses have clean white uniforms and the nun, Sister Rita, is all in white. Dr. Humphrey and Dr.

Campbell have white coats and things hanging from their necks which they stick against my chest and all over. I sleep and sleep but Iam awake when they bring in jars of bright red stuff that hang from tall poles above my bed and they stick tubes into my ankles and the back of my right hand. Sister Rita says,Youare getting blood, Francis. Soldieras blood from the Sarsfield Barracks.

Mam is sitting by the bed and the nurse is saying,You know, missus, this is very unusual. No one is ever allowed into the Fever Hospital for fear theyad catch something but they made an exception for you with his crisis coming. If he gets over this heall surely recover.

I fall asleep. Mam is gone when I wake but thereas movement in the room and itas the priest, Father Gorey, from the Confraternity saying Ma.s.s at a table in the corner. I drift off again and now theyare waking me and pulling down the bedclothes. Father Gorey is touching me with oil and praying in Latin. I know itas Extreme Unction and that means Iam going to die and I donat care.They wake me again to receive Communion.

I donat want it, Iam afraid I might get sick. I keep the wafer on my tongue and fall asleep and when I wake up again itas gone.

Itas dark and Dr. Campbell is sitting by my bed. Heas holding my wrist and looking at his watch. He has red hair and gla.s.ses and he always smiles when he talks to me. He sits now and hums and looks out the window. His eyes close and he snores a little. He tilts over on the chair and farts and smiles to himself and I know now Iam going to get better because a doctor would never fart in the presence of a dying boy.

Sister Ritaas white habit is bright in the sun that comes in the window.

Sheas holding my wrist, looking at her watch, smiling.Oh,she says, weare awake, are we? Well, Francis, I think weave come through the worst. Our prayers are answered and all the prayers of those hundreds of little boys at the Confraternity.Can you imagine that? Hundreds of boys saying the rosary for you and offering up their communion.

My ankles and the back of my hand are throbbing from the tubes bringing in the blood and I donat care about boys praying for me. I can hear the swish of Sister Ritaas habit and the click of her rosary beads when she leaves the room. I fall asleep and when I wake itas dark and Dad is sitting by the bed with his hand on mine.

Son, are you awake?

I try to talk but Iam dry, nothing will come out and I point to my 192.

mouth. He holds a gla.s.s of water to my lips and itas sweet and cool. He presses my hand and says Iam a great old soldier and why wouldnat I?

Donat I have the soldieras blood in me?

The tubes are not in me anymore and the gla.s.s jars are gone.

Sister Rita comes in and tells Dad he has to go. I donat want him to go because he looks sad. Heas like Paddy Clohessy the day I gave him the raisin.When he looks sad itas the worst thing in the world and I start crying. Now whatas this? says Sister Rita. Crying with all that soldier blood in you? Thereas a big surprise for you tomorrow, Francis.Youall never guess.Well, Iall tell you, weare bringing you a nice biscuit with your tea in the morning. Isnat that a treat? And your father will be back in a day or two,wonat you, Mr.McCourt?

Dad nods and puts his hand on mine again. He looks at me, steps away, stops, comes back, kisses me on the forehead for the first time in my life and Iam so happy I feel like floating out of the bed.

The other two beds in my room are empty.The nurse says Iam the only typhoid patient and Iam a miracle for getting over the crisis.

The room next to me is empty till one morning a girlas voice says, Yoo hoo, whoas there?

Iam not sure if sheas talking to me or someone in the room beyond.

Yoo hoo, boy with the typhoid, are you awake?

I am.

Are you better?

I am.

Well, why are you here?

I donat know. Iam still in the bed.They stick needles in me and give me medicine.

What do you look like?

I wonder,What kind of a question is that? I donat know what to tell her.

Yoo hoo, are you there, typhoid boy?

I am.

Whatas your name?

Frank.

Thatas a good name. My name is Patricia Madigan. How old are you?

Ten.

Oh. She sounds disappointed.

But Iall be eleven in August, next month.

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Well, thatas better than ten. Iall be fourteen in September. Do you want to know why Iam in the Fever Hospital?

I do.

I have diphtheria and something else.

Whatas something else?

They donat know. They think I have a disease from foreign parts because my father used to be in Africa. I nearly died.Are you going to tell me what you look like?

I have black hair.

You and millions.

I have brown eyes with bits of green thatas called hazel.

You and thousands.

I have st.i.tches on the back of my right hand and my two feet where they put in the soldieras blood.

Oh, G.o.d, did they?

They did.

You wonat be able to stop marching and saluting.

Thereas a swish of habit and click of beads and then Sister Ritaas voice. Now, now, whatas this? Thereas to be no talking between two rooms especially when itas a boy and a girl. Do you hear me, Patricia?

I do, Sister.

Do you hear me, Francis?

I do, Sister.

You could be giving thanks for your two remarkable recoveries.You could be saying the rosary.You could be reading The Little Messenger of the Sacred Heart thatas beside your beds.Donat let me come back and find you talking.

She comes into my room and wags her finger at me. Especially you, Francis, after thousands of boys prayed for you at the Confraternity.

Give thanks, Francis, give thanks.

She leaves and thereas silence for awhile. Then Patricia whispers, Give thanks, Francis, give thanks, and say your rosary, Francis, and I laugh so hard a nurse runs in to see if Iam all right. Sheas a very stern nurse from the County Kerry and she frightens me.Whatas this, Francis?

Laughing? What is there to laugh about? Are you and that Madigan girl talking? Iall report you to Sister Rita.Thereas to be no laughing for you could be doing serious damage to your internal apparatus.

She plods out and Patricia whispers again in a heavy Kerry accent, No laughing, Francis, you could be doina serious damage to your inter- 194.

nal apparatus. Say your rosary, Francis, and pray for your internal apparatus.

Mam visits me on Thursdays. Iad like to see my father, too, but Iam out of danger, crisis time is over, and Iam allowed only one visitor.

Besides, she says, heas back at work at Rankas Flour Mills and please G.o.d this job will last a while with the war on and the English desperate for flour. She brings me a chocolate bar and that proves Dad is working. She could never afford it on the dole. He sends me notes. He tells me my brothers are all praying for me, that I should be a good boy, obey the doctors, the nuns, the nurses, and donat forget to say my prayers. Heas sure St. Jude pulled me through the crisis because heas the patron saint of desperate cases and I was indeed a desperate case.

Patricia says she has two books by her bed. One is a poetry book and thatas the one she loves.The other is a short history of England and do I want it? She gives it to Seamus, the man who mops the floors every day, and he brings it to me. He says, Iam not supposed to be bringing anything from a dipteria room to a typhoid room with all the germs flying around and hiding between the pages and if you ever catch dipteria on top of the typhoid theyall know and Iall lose my good job and be out on the street singing patriotic songs with a tin cup in my hand, which I could easily do because there isnat a song ever written about Irelandas sufferings I donat know and a few songs about the joy of whiskey too.

Oh, yes, he knows Roddy McCorley. Heall sing it for me right enough but heas barely into the first verse when the Kerry nurse rushes in.Whatas this, Seamus? Singing? Of all the people in this hospital you should know the rules against singing. I have a good mind to report you to Sister Rita.

Ah, G.o.d, donat do that, nurse.

Very well, Seamus. Iall let it go this one time.You know the singing could lead to a relapse in these patients.

When she leaves he whispers heall teach me a few songs because singing is good for pa.s.sing the time when youare by yourself in a typhoid room. He says Patricia is a lovely girl the way she often gives him sweets from the parcel her mother sends every fortnight. He stops mopping the floor and calls to Patricia in the next room, I was telling Frankie youare a lovely girl, Patricia, and she says,Youare a lovely man, Seamus. He smiles because heas an old man of forty and he never had 195.

children but the ones he can talk to here in the Fever Hospital. He says, Hereas the book, Frankie. Isnat it a great pity you have to be reading all about England after all they did to us, that there isnat a history of Ireland to be had in this hospital.