Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes by Martha Long Page A

no knickers. But now they run when they see me, cos me head is covered in sores, an me ma had te cut off all me hair. The lice are crawlin aroun me head, an it’s very itchy, so I scratch it. An it bleeds an gets huge scabs, an now pus is oozin from the sores, an I look terrible. So the childre stand a mile away from me, cos their mammies said they’ll catch it. An they call me terrible names, ‘Scabby Head’, ‘Pauper’, ‘Baldy Head’, an loads of other names. An they say me ma is a whore. Tha’s very insultin te call me ma tha. It means she’s no good, an tha makes me want te cry. But I pretend I’m not bothered, an I think up names te call them. But I have te fight the whole gang on me own. An I’m ashamed I’m not like them. I’d love te play piggybeds an swing on the lamp posts wit a rope, an play chasin an have me friends. But I’m not like them, an they don’t want te have anythin te do wit me.

10
    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