We didn’t stay long in this flat. Me ma has a friend who lives in the Benburb Street flats, an she wants te move inta our flat an we move inta hers. It’s down on the quays, next te Arbour Hill Army Barracks. It’s a big aul Victorian row of about ten blocks of flats, an it’s about eight storeys high. We have one room, an we share the landin wit about eight other families.
I went down on te the street te play. There are lots a shops aroun, an the road in front is very busy wit traffic. There’s lots a cars an delivery vans an horses an carts flyin up an down. I’m not used te it yet, an it’s taken me a long time te cross the road. I want te get over te the sweet shop an meet all the childre millin aroun outside.
Other childre are crossin the road now. Some are smaller than me, an they step out as soon as there’s a little break in the traffic an dash inta the middle of the road, makin the cars swerve an brake an blow their horns. I do the same thing, an a car swerves at me. I dash back towards the footpath, right under the wheels of another car comin in the opposite direction. I can smell burnin rubber, an big puffs of smoke come outa the tyres when the man brakes an nearly swerves inta the other car.
I decide te go up an see wha’s happenin in the shoe-repair shop. The man wears a leather apron, an he has a hammer, an nails stickin outa his mouth. An he has a shoe stuck onta an iron bar wit a big lip on it. An he’s bangin the nails inta the shoe. There’s a smell of glue comin outa the shop. At first I thought it was nice, but now it’s beginnin te give me a headache. So I move off towards me own block.
I’m standin there an a big fight starts out between about six dogs in the next block. Then I see an old man comin past me. He’s wearin a hugh boot, cos one of his legs is much shorter than the other one. An he swings along, throwin out the big boot in front of him, cos it’s very heavy te lift. Suddenly the dogs jump on him an knock him over. They all start te savage him, an there’s blood beginnin te pour from his head an face. He can’t do much te save himself, an he tries te cover his head. I see the weakness in his face, an he seems te let go an stop strugglin. An I watch quietly, but I’m screamin inside meself, cos the dogs are killin him, an I don’t know wha te do. I start te run up an down, lookin fer someone te help, but nobody sees wha’s happenin. A winda opens up in a flat, an a woman shouts down at the dogs. An then suddenly people appear outa the flats an start te beat the dogs off. But the dogs won’t let go, an it seems a long time before they drag the dogs away. The man lay white as a sheet, covered in blood, an his eyes kept flutterin open an shut. The people chased away us childre, an the man waited a long time on the ground wit a coat thrown over him before the ambulance arrived te take him away.
Me ma doesn’t stay in the flat any more. She goes off fer the day, an I stay in te mind the babby. I can’t bring him out, cos he has no go-car. It’s broken an gone. An I can’t get him down the stone stairs, cos we’re far too far up in the top floor, an he’s not walkin yet. So even if I managed te carry him down, wha would I do wit him? So we lie on the bed. He cries an cries, cos he’s hungry an there’s no bottle te give him an not even a bit a bread we could eat. There’s nothin! Not even in the bins – I looked.
It’s night time now, an she’s still not back. As long as I keep me fingers in his mouth, he’ll suck it an be quiet. We have a bit a comfort, lyin wit our heads together, lookin inta each other’s faces an watchin him suck me finger. He’ll only cry now if I take me finger back.
The sun was shinin outside, an I could hear all the childre playin on the street. Me ma was all excited. She was goin out. She had herself all done up. She said she had te meet a man. She asked me te go te bed early wit the babby, but I said no! It was the middle of the day, an I wanted te go out an play. So she went across the road te the shop an bought me a little ball fer sixpence. Now I could play handball against the wall when I got out te play. This was me own, an now I could get childre te play wit me. I could play this game, but ye need two balls fer this. Maybe we’d share. I could get a young one who has a ball. It goes like this – ye throw the balls against the wall, an ye say, ‘My muther an yer muther were hangin out the clothes, my muther gev yer muther a bang on the nose, wha colour was the blood, R.E.D.’, an if ye drop the ball ye’re out.
There was a dog shiverin in a box outside one of the blocks. We went down te gerra look. There was an old woman sittin on a chair outside, an she was mindin the dog. It had no hair, an its skin was all red an bleedin. ‘Wha’s wrong wit it, Missus?’ we asked.
‘It has the mange! Now gerra way an don’t be touchin it. Ye’s’ll catch it! I’m waitin fer the animal-cruelty man te come.’
Suddenly there was a roar from the end of the street, an a load a cattle came stampedin down. ‘Hold er! Ho there! Easy now!’ An we could see young fellas wit sticks runnin in an outa the cattle, scatterin them everywhere. The drover was screamin up behind them wit his arms held wide an a big stick in his hand, wellington boots covered in green shit, an an aul coat tied wit string. His hat blew offa his head, an he didn’t stop te pick it up. More young fellas came roarin outa the flats te give the drover a hand. ‘Feck ye’s all, ye’s little feckers. Ye’s are losin me, me animals.’
‘I’m not, Mister! I’m helpin ye!’ one young fella said. ‘Lookit, them young fellas are robbin a cow. They whooshed it up the alley, an they’ll sell it te Mickey the Butchers.’
‘Where are they? Bring it back fer me, son, an I’ll see ye right!’
‘OK, Mister! Wha’s it worth? Half a crown?’
‘No!’
‘Ten bob, Mister.’
‘Five bob an get a fuckin move on.’
An he was off te tell his pals they were in the money. An then the aul one grabbed up her chair an screamed, ‘Mind the dog!’ An she ran inta the hall, sayin, ‘We’ll be all kilt! Is a body te get no rest?’
We grabbed the box an tumbled the dog inta the hall, outa the way of a mad cow tha was rushin towards us. We could see the white of its eyes an the steam pourin up from it an the shit caked on its back – it was huge! The dogs came from everywhere, an they went bananas, bitin the legs of the cows. An the mad cow changed direction at the last minute an decided he wasn’t comin inta the hall. He skidded an slipped, an the drover whacked him on the arse an whacked out at the dogs an looked at us te see if we should be whacked as well.
The cars were all chopper blocked. An we ran out an jumped on the back of a horse an cart, an the horse was rearin an snortin wit all the cars blowin their horns an the cows an childre an dogs flyin everywhere. An the man wit the horse lost his rag an turned aroun an lashed at us wit his whip. A black dog ran under the legs of the horse, an a young fella said, ‘Go on, Nero! Get them!’ an the horse reared up from the fright of the dog. The man jumped down te quieten the horse, but the horse was foamin at the mouth, an the man was in an awful state. An the woman from the shop came out te see wha was happenin, an she still had her fork in her hand, cos she musta been eatin her dinner. An the men came over from the flats te help steady the horse an said it was a terrible conster de nation altogether. An I thought it was like the cowboy fillums! Only they left plenty a shit behind them – even the horse was shittin wit fright.
I had te sleep in the end of the bed last night, cos me ma had a man in the bed wit her. I didn’t like tha at all, cos they were very noisy, an he was tormentin her all night, an they kept kickin me, an I couldn’t sleep properly. His name’s Anto, an he sells newspapers on the street corner. He got up outa bed this mornin, an he left in a hurry. Me ma looked at me an said, ‘He didn’t leave me any money! I was goin te ask him fer a few bob. I’ve no milk or bread! Run after him an ask him fer the loan of one an six.’
Tha’s a shillin an sixpence. So I ran down an shouted, ‘Anto!’ But he wouldn’t answer me, so I caught up wit him on the street. An he said he had nothin. But I said, ‘Me ma needs it te buy bread an milk,’ an he gave me a shillin, but he was very annoyed.
Me ma was disappointed an said, ‘Is tha all he gave ye?’
‘Yeah, Ma! An he wasn’t goin te give me anythin!’
Today, me ma went down te see a neighbour, an she said te me, as she was rushin out the door, ‘You stay here an mind the babby!’
But I said, ‘No! I’m goin out te play,’ an I rushed out behind her an down the stairs. When I got onta the street, I saw all the people lookin up at a winda an screamin. They were pointin an shoutin an coverin their faces wit their hands. An some were gettin weak. When I looked up te see wha was causin all the bother, I saw me babby brother Charlie sittin on the windasill lookin down. I rushed inta the hall an up the stairs. I couldn’t move fast enough – there were too many stairs, an it was an awful long way up. A door opened, an me ma shot out. She roared at me as she galloped up the stairs, ‘I told you te mind the babby!’ I came rushin in behind her as she grabbed me babby brother from the windasill. The cot was in the corner, right beside the winda, an the winda was open. So the babby climbed outa his cot an crawled onta the windasill an was kneelin there lookin down at everyone. He’s barely twelve months old, an we nearly lost him.