A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing (5 page)

I feel it gone, my fucker Jesus self. It weep away like longed for wound. Take off that bandage. No nothing there. No badness to keep me. Prop me up. In this place I am as slack gut. Nothing inside to keep me up. With all the coldness in the rooms. With all the people breathe the air around who think me strange and odd. It empties me. It throws me out. Dirty water. Dirty cup. I think for moment I’d rescue you. Say how scum it is. This place. Like this. And do not. Leave you to do your standing. Run for cover. Feeling the earth come down around me after thousand pound bomb’s ripped it up. We are transplanted. We are the new now and the wrong. The lost. The done for. Ever. I see I am sliding into years of this I think. And you. My lost then brother. You’ll be strung-up.

Hey you two. New two. Yeah you two. Here’s your stop. Get off.

For all of that I wanted to be out of it. All of that. You wanted to be in.

One day I saw you. That prefab shadow on your eyes. That gravel on the playground under your foot. Four or five ones there with you. They sat. Coats roped under their chins and eyes filled with fag smoke watchfully. Teachers come round the corner just like that. Laring they do always. Making fart noise hocking spit. Snort up clumps of guck from their lungs. You do not. That’s to fall foul. You will not do what you’re not allowed, even for them. For the comrade nudge of adulation. But you’ll find other intimations of their special cool.

This day I see you sway foot there. One foot to another. Kicking the stones. All these – some red-haired acned, some blond-like wispy thin hair their blue eyes freezing, some raise a stink in every room of the school. I hate the stunk air after their class has been. Smell German classroom their deep BO. These are swinging on the fence chain by you there, standing left right swipe a pebble with that black striped runner toe. And they say joggling each other, what happened you there? Where? That big scar on your head. I wince in my slink hole see. The question never answered I know by you. I. Shall I think of some diversion? Come over and be a centre action? I do not. I do not no. You would not thank me for that.

You say, and shock me, a knife did it. Silence. For the first time impressed. They cannot delve you all a sudden. Something cool they cannot know. For country boys are beat by dads or priests around the head or a teacher in fury with a big maths book. But not with knives that cut their skulls up. I see them. Sizing now your magnitude compared to them. Them thinking you did not always live here. Must have happened when you were young. Must have happened at another school. Is that true? Who’ll disprove it? Not I. I’ll not. They do not ask when? who? but Did it hurt? A little bit you say. Were you really cut? Yes awful deep is why my eye’s not so good. A great assimilation of all your school-bound woes now up in one knot. This healing vast equivocation. You throw all in the pot. Its lid on tight. And was there much blood? Yeah loads of that. And hospital and people passing out? Oh loads. And did they think you’d die? They did. Somehow I didn’t, you say. They never knew anyone nearly dead before but grannies and grandfathers. Did they go to court? They got away. With it? From the country, thickorwhat, you say. Oh right. Oh right yeah.

I smelt it go around the school all day. In crannies in whispers in home economics behind me, before me, to right and to left. Hey dimwit shitfit what happened your brother? What happened his head? Is that true? You so full of shite. It did not. It did not. Sweat me down my polyester pinafore. Don’t want to get into it. Don’t want to say Aye Yes nor No if I can help it. But I don’t want to burst your lie.

Bus home you were not tripped up. And no one said thicko fuck- up shitehawk. And you did sit at the back of the bus. I went over and over each bump in my stomach. The luck of it. Bad luck of it to tell that lie. Of all. About that. That thick meander line below your hair.

She always tug fringe over it. Hide all the memory, says please grow it out a bit long. You will not though some reason of your own. It’s my scar. It happened to me. I say it’s too short. Stay out of it you.

We jump on the verge from off the bus. I heard what you said in school. Such a liar you are. Shut up you say and it was a knife did it anyway. Don’t say that, you know what I mean you know it well. And your schoolbag buckle graze my cheek shocks my stomach. A not what I expected. So I threw mine at you. Making myself a show to neighbours if they’re watching and they are. You missed me you are shouting. Steaming down the road ahead. There’ll be skin and hair flying. There’ll be wigs on the green. I shout I’m telling Mammy. Baby squeal. See if I care. What’s she going to do? The earth is rumbling. Things are splitting up. So I say nothing at home. But hold it in the air so you see what I have got. Like, what were you saying to the lads today? And. Really that’s not what I heard. What’s that? No nothing Mammy. See, I can level the blow when I wish. If I wish. Might or might not. You live under it. Defiant but under all the same. But I did not mention it again and you sat with the cool lads on the bus.

2

She driving. Me in the passenger seat. Bringing the statue to the next house. It’s rotation because it comes from Lourdes. Have you a good hold of her? Yes Mammy. Blue blond gold. It sits plaster baby on my knee, crown in my teeth and I like the great green serpent coiling all round her feet.

She drives so higgledy piggledy down the road. Bump. Don’t break so fast I’ll drop her. Don’t be a cheeky brat. Quiet. She sings amazing grace. Says hmmmm. Says anyway. What? Your brother. Aha? Not so well at school the teachers say. And? I say to them he studies every single night. I tell them I send him up to that desk. And what didn’t I buy him, books, copies, every- thing. I think I’ll not be interested at all in this. So I say sooo? My head throbby boy thoughts. My nose big with blackheads. Hair and grease normal. Staring out the window balancing the virgin don’t chip her there and does she have ears in that golden mane? I think and make display of my disinterest. It’s important she says there’s something else. What’s that? Umm I don’t know what you but teachers think he’s a bit subnormal. Just. A little bit. Not under by much. What? Going round and round my. I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I don’t want to. Hear that. I shout stop that. Saying. Believing that. Always saying stupid things about him. She says will you calm yourself. No I won’t. No. No. He’s fine. That’s awful to say. Well that tumour could’ve done more harm than we. Stop. I belt young Virgin Mary on the dashboard. Take it. Take that. Take that. Wobbling the car. She. Swerve it. What the stop it stop it stop. I don’t want to. Hear. I don’t want. It in my life. Stop the car. She stop the car. I must get. Out. On the roadside. Stop it. Let me out. Pull in.

Fuck that virgin onto the tarmac. Take her head does she like it? What’s the. Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me that. What do I do? Aha. Aha. It makes my head run. Makes my face run. I fall in the grass. I graze my hand. I feel lungs closing up under the breathless. No. No. Breathe it. Breathe it. Put down your head. She says. Just sit there. Head between your knees I’ll shut the car door. She pulls it over. And puts on the break light. Sssh.

Sorry I broke the statue I say wet with cry. Don’t mind. Don’t mind the statue. Don’t mind that. I don’t want. Shusha shusha. I. I. No. I don’t want. And I feel a sinus. Feel a brain erase. Feeling limbs feeling. Pins and. Shock and. Needles. Get in. She says leave that. She says it’s alright. She says he’s fine. She says sure they never know what they’re talking about. Now. She drives us home.

And this means we are eating dinner stew. I am sitting. And she there pass the salt. Thump. In my. Thumping. Face and neck. You busy making at me ape face. Big jaw. The funky gibbon. Shuffle kick under the tablecloth. Ugh what’s so wrong with you? Saying so and so teacher saying such and such. Saying la la la. To me. It comes like river up my throat. Puke on my dish. Chunk dribble my plate. And again. And retch again. She pat my neck hold my head go on. You shouting Oh that is so disgusting can’t you get up to the toilet. Such a retard. Quiet you. She pat my back. She pat my head. It’s alright.

No I’m not going to tell anyone, I say. And you shouldn’t either. I don’t see what’s to be gained. Well they think he’ll get along alright she says. D’s but fine. He’ll find something that will make him happy. Are you going to be telling everyone behind his back Mammy? Think of holy joes praying and all they’d say. I’m not hope you’ll not is what she says. You’re a good sister and he’s always been good to you so. Right? Ssssh. He’s coming up. Something else. Oh pork chops so were two a pound. Is that good? I say.

That school tread. Going over and over. Term learn holiday back again. My C’s. My B’s for not doing much, that much. She doesn’t apply herself. And you get, you get upstairs to that room and do some work. Every night you’re stuck up there three or four hours and you’re bringing home D’s and E’s to me. What do you think your father would say to that? He’d be ashamed his only son’s so useless. You’re just bone idle. That’s your problem. What are you doing up there? Stop that don’t be saying that. Why are you saying that it’s not as if he can help it. You know. You know. Just what do I know? she says. Sure you’re the one who told me. It’s not like he can help it. No it won’t get better if he does more work. Maaaammy leave him alone. And you shouting what are you saying to her? Why don’t you mind your own business, if she gives out to me what’s it to you? But. Shut up and butt out. So nosey. She says there now son. That’s alright. Your sister’s just having a phase. Everything’s my fault but she’ll snap out of it soon. I say Oh fuck off. Don’t talk to her that way. Then you can fuck off too.

3

Say hello to your aunt and uncle. You haven’t seen them before. Nudged his jaguar into the drive or volvo or fancy I don’t know about that. He black curl-haired she bob-cut wife. Our mother’s sister she. To call. To come and stay. Better off than us and close I think when they were young – we played house snakes and ladders and little women. We hear her on the telephone every month or so. Now then youngster, how are you? Pass me onto. Is your mother home? Or go on and get your mother tell her I’m in a state. And she mentions every once in a while your aunt loves tea rose scents. She sends a check for Christmas and birthdays and now and then. And parcels of hand-me-downs from girls about my age. Auntie so with bottle green tights. She’s a hips woman they say with a size ten top. My God a broad and wing’ed arse. Nudge and jostle you me Shush. In all they’re grand compared to us. Bags that match. Driving shoes. Leather gloves and a cigarette lighter in their car. Come uncle uncle and play your guitar. Come uncle uncle and smoke your cigar. Those are what I’ve been told they do.

Come and smile and give us hugs. Ah he’ll not be tall like his Da oh should I not? His father was a tall man after all aunt adds. Hmm we’ve all sorts our mother says with her arm across your back. Take your auntie’s bag upstairs and your uncle’s while you’re at it. I look at him. I look him back from looking right at me. His eyes flick a switch. I’ll stare you dare you and don’t think you’re posh than better than us. Come in and sit down and you’ll have a cup of tea with. Ho ho look at madam, can’t get over how she’s grown. I’m thirteen now and nearly more. Soon.

Sit smile and give bottles of bubble bath and packets of crisps and jigsaws theirs already smeared with. Lovely girls. You might like it thought it might do. Your cousin loved that one. Oh lovely lovely. And second-hand knickers with butterflies for me. Second-arsed. Amn’t I the lucky one. Pink and green. For you a book of Jesus and a plate with praying hands. Yes I am fifteen a snicker splutter. We’ll put them in our rooms.

At the table she speaks slow and loud like we’re deaf. How’s school doing? She’s scared as hell of us young savagers. She’s heard tell. The evil house and halfwit brother. Sullen girl and her forward rolls. I don’t mind her snit one bit. My all-set temper might spark to it but we have a lovely awkward dinner of gammon and mashed spud first. I do love them more says she with a pineapple ring on top. Haven’t you maybe one of those? No. A biteen then more salt. They’re dry those spuds. Pass it. There you go. My girls won’t touch it. Pork is such a, you know meat. Was the milkman was a jew? I say under my breath you wrinkle snotting. What? Our mother’s eyes plop from her head, but they chew neat and cud-like and have not heard. Nothing I think, til I see him. Uncle uncle. Maybe you’re no fool. I get the I’ll get you later on look from our mother and jelly a bit. And how’s your work? I made partner. Well isn’t that great. Holidays in Spain. Do you get away? says the aunt. No not that much. I don’t know how you do without the sun. Well. We’re also having an extension. Oh. How big’s this house here by the way? Three bedrooms. God how do you all fit in? We need a new guest one and with the girls so grown it’s en suites for this one and en suites for that one. Hhmmm. Oh walls? I suppose it’ll remind me of my youth – we usually have carte d’or. He says give it a rest would you, not everyone’s as well-off as us isn’t that right? Yes my mother says looking greener stewed-up cabbage. And I see he is watching me with this, seeing how I am. I am champing inner lip. Inside us all are, better or worse, for she’s a bit this aunt, relentless.

Did you get the check? Did you get my check? I’ve almost learned to growl but you avoided it or did not think she was rubbing it in. I could bite this hand that feeds for parading the bill. Did you get that check she kept saying to her I keep forgetting if I’ve asked? My little snarling yes you do. Our mother says go upstairs and leave us to talk, or your brother’s watching telly why don’t you go join him. I’ll do the dishes I’m saying thinking I won’t leave. Keep an eye on what’s said about you and me. I’m unhappy aware there’ll be loyalty smeared somewhere there on our kitchen floor. Not mine. Not to you. Or yours to me. Or her. No go make up the camp bed that’s what you can do for me she says so I do.