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2. Eileen Murphywas tough out. I should have listened to her that night when she said to shove his head down in the water with myboot. I wanted him to be taken byGod with no hand in it at all myself but of course that was a Sin of Omission so I was a black sinner too. We should have called the constabularythe minute he slithered in. Theysaya drunkard has more lives than a cat. Lurching up the road everynight, steamed to the gills, taking the two sides of BlarneyStreet – horses & carts the whole lot & not a hair of his head damaged. His white collar shining in the green gaslight. Howmanytimes did he fall down & rise again like an India rubber ball? & what was there to stop him rising again? The bodywasn’t found & no one sawJesus rise on Easter Sundayeither. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said he would. Come & see the place where he lay – & that is the gospel according to Matthew. 10
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3. Mybrain wouldn’t run straight in its track, lurching & shooting red electric sparks up the right side of myface. We’d a doing from the Tans in June, the night of the attack on Eileen but this was worse. Because staring hurts worst of all. This fellowwas morningsober not like the Tans who couldn’t see straight with the drink. One fellowheld himself up with his rifle, using it like a walking stick to stop himself from falling down. Trying to do the big man before Flora. The fellow in charge leant up against the wall for balance, left a green smear after him. I was scrubbing for days. You never knewwhat waythey’d turn. A Tan might be sticking his head under the hood of a baby’s pram saying he couldn’t get over the blue eyes of the Irish, next he’d be trying to click with a girl, then you could turn a corner & a gang of them would be stamping on an old man’s hand. People ran like chickens in front. Savage drivers but expert. The tenders swept carts, people & animals into the ditches – pirate patches over their eyes, metal hooks instead of hands slashing the air, gathering leaves off the trees as theydrove past. Dark faces & stained fingers. The people said theyhad come from hell & you could still smell the singe off them. I couldn’t smell the singe onlyengine oil because theywere pure out of their minds about motors, couldn’t stop driving even for themselves. Theygot tangled up with the Hounds of Duhallowout beyond 11

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2.

Eileen Murphywas tough out. I should have listened to her that night when she said to shove his head down in the water with myboot. I wanted him to be taken byGod with no hand in it at all myself but of course that was a Sin of Omission so I was a black sinner too. We should have called the constabularythe minute he slithered in. Theysaya drunkard has more lives than a cat. Lurching up the road everynight, steamed to the gills, taking the two sides of BlarneyStreet – horses & carts the whole lot & not a hair of his head damaged. His white collar shining in the green gaslight. Howmanytimes did he fall down & rise again like an India rubber ball? & what was there to stop him rising again? The bodywasn’t found & no one sawJesus rise on Easter Sundayeither. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said he would. Come & see the place where he lay – & that is the gospel according to Matthew.

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