NOVEMBER 30TH 2004 JOEY
“MAM.”
Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, I resisted the urge to walk over there and tip the mattress and force her to get out of that goddamn bed.
By some small grace of God, the old man had walked out on our mother three nights ago. He declared that we could all burn to death for all he cared because he’d found himself a real woman.
If I could have packed his bags and walked him to the door, I would have.
Instead, I’d been preoccupied with picking my mother up off the kitchen floor.
She’d taken to the bed soon after and hadn’t left it since.
“You have to get up,” I told her. “I’ve the rest of them sent off to school, but Sean is downstairs. Nanny’s in Beara with Aunty Alice so she can’t take him, and I can’t miss school again.” I’d already missed yesterday. “Please, Mam.”
Nothing.
“I have to get my project sorted for Construction.” Not even a twitch.
“It’s worth over fifty percent of my leaving cert exam.” Silence.
“Mam!” I said it louder this time, hoping by some small miracle that I would be able to somehow get through to her – wherever the fuck she was in that head of hers. “You’re better off without him. Do you hear me? You are better off. Let him fuck off with that barmaid from town. She’s his problem now.”
Blowing out a frustrated growl when she didn’t so much as flinch, I walked into the room I hated most in this house and forced my legs to walk over to the bed.
“Mam.”
Crouching down in front of her, I tapped on her lifeless hand. Nothing.
Dead blue eyes stared back at nothing. I knew she was alive.
I could see her chest rising and falling, but that was the only sign. Other than that, she was a glorified zombie.
“Mam, please.” Voice softening, I reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You have to get back up.”
A lone tear trickled down her cheek.
It was the only response she gave to tell me that she could hear me. “Okay, Mam.” Sighing heavily, I pulled the covers over her frail
shoulders to keep her warm, and then I headed for the door. “I’ll stay home and mind Sean.”
 |
“HOW IS SHE?” were the first words that came out of Shannon’s mouth when she walked through the front door after school. “Did she come out?”
“Heard the toilet flush twice, but that’s about it,” I called over my shoulder, as I tried to save the mince from burning the pan, having made the rare mistake of forgetting I left the ring on. “Shit, fuck, shit.“
“Nice language,” Tadhg mocked from the kitchen table. “Should I learn how to spell those words too, Joe?”
“Just concentrate on your homework and less of the snark,” I shot back, eyeing my sister to come save me.
Smiling, Shannon walked over to the stove and nudged me out of the way. “Need a hand, Joe?”
“Please.” Tossing the spaghetti smeared tea-towel over her shoulder, I scooped up the toddler who, I was fairly sure was contemplating taking a dump in his pants and headed for the bathroom. “Does Seany have poos for Joe?”
“No poos, o-ee.”
Little liar.
“Go on and check for me,” I ordered, setting him down in front of the potty in the utility room. “Good lad yourself.”
“Hey, Joe? What’s a click-or-is?” Ollie called from the other side of the kitchen table.
“The fuck?” Gaping, I stalked back to where he had his homework book open. “Where did you see that word, Ollie?”
“I didn’t see it,” he explained innocently, smiling up at me. “I heard it.”
Jesus Christ. “Where’d you hear that, Ols?” “In the sexual education talk at school.” What the absolute fuck?
I looked to Shannon for help, but she had turned redder than the bolognaise she was stirring.
At a loss, I turned to Tadhg. “What’s this I’m hearing about sexual education?”
Tadhg shrugged. “No clue, Joe. I was away with the school’s hurling team.” He grinned proudly. “We won, and I scored two goals.”
“Nice.” Accepting his high-five, I quickly turned my attention back to spawn number five. “You’re in fourth class, Ollie. In primary school. You
don’t need to be taking any sex education class.” “It’s cunt-pulse-hairy.”
“Compulsory, you dope,” Tadhg growled. “Jesus Christ.”
Jesus Christ, I needed to get this kid into speech and language. “I’m going to have to call your school,” I told them both. “You’re too young to be learning about this kind of thing.”
“But what is it, Joe?” “What’s what?”
“A click-or-is?”
Shannon choked on her own spit behind me.
“Well, uh, it’s like you said, it’s something you click,” I muttered, having no idea what to do, or how to handle the kinds of questions these kids continued to throw at me.
“Like a button?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” “Where?”
“Where’s what?”
“The click-or-is, silly,” Ollie said, and then frowned. “Teacher said that only girls get a click-or-is, but that’s not fair, is it, Joe? How comes they get a secret button, and we don’t?”
“O-ee poos!” Sean hollered from the utility room, and I had never been so relieved to clean shit up than I was in this moment.
“Coming, Seany,” I called back before saying, “Ols, we can pick this conversation back up when you’re a teenager.”
