The Fall by Martin Lee

Author:Martin Lee [Lee, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: uploadable
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2017-03-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Michael O’Neill

I’ve always hated Christmas.

As a kid, you’re supposed to love it. The food and the presents and the singing and the Mass. But there was none of that in our house. For us, it was always a time when our ma went into mourning.

A couple of days before Christmas me ma would go into a sort of shell as the darkness crept over her, crawling into bed and hiding there for a week or so.

Me and my brothers were used to it of course. We went about our business as if nothing had happened; cleaning the house, feeding the chickens, checking that the old sow was still happy. The neighbours looked in of course.

‘Happy Christmas there, Mrs. O’Neill. Sure it’s a lovely bright morning to be lying in your bed on a day like this.’

There was never any answer from me ma. She just lay there, staring at the walls. They would always leave something when they came. A pail of milk fresh from the cow, a loaf of bread, a wrap of tea. There was only so much they could spare. Christmas dinner was always a cup of tea and a slice of toast for us and then a run up the mountain to see what the other kids had got.

We all knew why Ma fell under the shadow at Christmas. It was the time she received the telegram from America.

I was eleven at the time, and lying here, on this green bunk surrounded by green walls, the memory of it still covers me like a shroud.

In our part of the old sod, telegrams were as rare as Christmas feasts. It arrived in the post office in Ballyhaunis and was carried along the roads in a special delivery by Patt Murphy on his bike. He made a special trip did Patt, his thin legs pushing hard on the pedals, the bell ringing to clear the way even when there was no one there.

Me ma saw him leave his bike down on the dirt road and clamber over the wall to walk across our field. She went outside, wiping her hands on her apron and adjusting her hair. She was always very keen on appearances was me ma. I was in the yard clearing the muck from the old sow. I looked up as Patt slowly got closer to our croft. When he was about ten feet away, he took off his cap and handed her a small brown envelope. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, his other hand hanging by his side, tugging at the corduroy of his trousers.

Me ma wiped her hands again and reached for the envelope. Nothing was said between them. I think me Ma knew what was there but she didn't want to know. She took the envelope and nodded at Patt. His hand tugged at his trouser again.

‘Ye have to open it,’ he said not looking at her, ‘In case there’s a reply.’

Me ma nodded once more. She took the small brown envelope and carefully worked her thumb under the edge of the flap.

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