Rosanne Parry - Last of the Name

Granny says Im seven devils in one pair of shoes. She doesnt know the half of it. Trouble is always nipping at my heels.

Tonight its me and all seven of them devils, tiptoeing past sleeping folk in the hold, and them that are coughing too hard to sleep. I step over bags and babies. I skirt around foul-smelling puddles and kick at rats. I cant just lie in the dark and hear Granny cough and feel her shaking with fever and do nothing. If Kathleen gives up her daily bread for me one more time Ill die of shame. If I was bigger Id clout her over the head and make her eat her own portion fair and square. She was having none of it.

Youre the last of the name, Daniel OCarolan, she said to me over the midday ration. I swore Id protect you and youll eat what I give you or take a hiding thatll flay the skin right off you.

Granny wont take her food either. Our whole long walk from the poorhouse in Ballyvourney to the docks in Cove, she divided out every crumb we ever begged for in three even shares. But the fever has hold of her by the throat and shes changed.

All the strength goes to you now, she said to me. She handed back the bread. You two will need every bit of it.

Youll eat what I give you, Kathleen said to Granny, sliding straight into the role of woman of the house without invitation. Its you we need, she added. We dont know a soul in New York.

Youll not be alone, Granny said.

She tapped her bundle with a knowing smile. Shes kept it at her side ever since last summer, when the landlord burned us out of our home. Shes guarded it fiercely day and night. When I ask her whats in it, she only says, Its ours and tells wild stories about the old kings of Ireland and their great feasts in their golden halls and the master harpers who sang and played for the dancing. The more feverish she gets, the more she slips into this shadow world where the Irish are the kings. Where you can sing the old songs and dance the jigs and reels without fear of prison. She tells her wild tales over and again until shes worn out.

Do something! I said to Kathleen.

If it were a wound, shed have her needle and thread out like a shot. Theres nothing she cant mend in the way of cloth. Stitched the brothers back together more than once, she has.

Theres nothing to do but pray, she said

She counted out the rosary on a knotted string. I said my prayers already, counted them out on my fingers ten times over. Maybe God cant hear me for the coughing.

I cant bear it a moment longer. I wont. Granny needs food. Real food. I find the galley steps in the dark and tiptoe onto the deck.

After the hold, fresh air is as sweet as clean water. I creep across the deck in darkness. The crew eats better than us. If I could get to their stores, Granny would get stronger. Shes had nothing but moldy bread and shriveled potatoes. I tiptoe along the rail to the galley door. Not a sound comes from inside.

The food is in the brig, under lock and chain. The shadows in the passageway give me cover. A single lamp swings above. Casks and chests are stacked shoulder high. I run to the brig, turn sideways, breathe all the way out, and slide through the bars. My shirt tears, and a bit of my skin, but Im inside!

The smell of fooda whole roomfulit almost brings me to my knees. More food in this one spot than Ive seen in a lifetime. For a moment, I take a notion of cracking open the barrels and feasting like a lord. But I know better. I only need a little. Something to bring a dash of color to Grannys face. A morsel of anything that will give her the strength to stand.

I duck down and worm my way through the barrels. A musty smell betrays which ones hold the rations theyve been feeding the passengers. Smaller casks of rum and salt beef and smoked fish are off to one side. I can only dream of such rich fare. Grannyd never be able to eat them, sick as she is. Theres a rime of mold on a great wheel of cheese and firkins of butter nailed shut too tight for me to open. Barrels of flour and salt are no good to me, but in the back I smell something sweetsomething I havent smelled in so long that I almost cant place it. I tiptoe to the back and pry up the lid.