Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story. Kathleen O’Shea
we had to see any more. We leapt into the ditch just as we heard the pans and plates go flying across the wagon, clanging and rattling around.
That night we slept out in the ditch with just a few blankets and a plastic covering to shelter us from the cold winter. We snuggled close to each other to keep warm, Aidan and Liam cuddling into Brian and Colin while Tara wrapped herself around Claire and I hugged Bridget tightly. Later, I felt my mother’s protective arm extend over me as she lay down next to us. The next morning Mammy limped around the wagon, covered in bruises, black-eyed from Daddy’s lashings. I knew something bad was going to happen. I could feel it.
A few days later, I happened to be up high on a tree branch close to the campsite while the others chatted around the campfire. I saw the occasional smiles and giggles as I looked down at my siblings. I let my eyes wander while I started to day-dream. Then, just as sudden, I snapped out of it when I heard my father’s ranting. I was just about to come down to make a getaway when I saw my father swing his foot and catch my mother right in her stomach. I was so shocked that I lost my grip and fell awkwardly, leaving me winded and unable to move. I could only watch, helpless, as events unfolded. The awful screams that came from my mother were pure haunting as the foot made contact and her body crumpled in pain.
Claire and Bridget went running over to her, as she knelt on the ground now gripping her belly.
‘She’s bleeding!’ Claire shouted to Daddy.
He stood there, dumb with shock, unable to comprehend what was going on.
‘Can’t you do something?’ Claire pleaded. Then he turned away muttering to himself before calling out to Liam: ‘Take the cart to the village. Get an ambulance.’
Meanwhile, my mother was doubled over in agony and Bridget held her shoulders as she screamed out over and over again. I crouched in a nearby bush, breathing hard and rubbing my knees where I’d fallen, too frightened to come out in the open. They stayed that way for what seemed like an age as Daddy paced the campsite, talking to himself, Floss flat out on the ground a few feet away, his ears and tail down. Daddy shouted out to my poor, stricken mother: ‘Just hang in there! Liam’s gone to get help. You just stay calm. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
At last the ambulance came and took my mother away to the hospital – the two men helped her up and put her into the back of the vehicle. And as they eased her slowly away from where she’d fallen, she left a pool of blood on the ground.
It was the first time my mother had left us and we missed and pined for her to be back home. But we couldn’t rely on Daddy to keep things going – he was lost to us now, always drunk and roaming the place, shouting and talking to himself all the time. The Legion of Mary, a charity for helping out families like ours, came to visit one day and saw the state he was in.
‘You’ll have to come with us now,’ they told my father, who looked like a broken man. I think he would have gone with anyone at that time.
‘Where are they taking Daddy?’ I asked Bridget as he folded himself into the back seat of their car.
‘Daddy’s not well,’ Bridget said, a dark look on her face. ‘He has to go to the mental hospital.’
I nodded, pretending I knew what she meant, but really I had no idea what a mental hospital was. Later Brian explained: ‘It’s a place to fix Daddy’s head so he thinks better.’
We all agreed that this was a very good idea because Daddy wasn’t thinking too well at the moment. The only problem was that, with both our parents gone, we were left to fend for ourselves. It was Claire and Bridget who took on the responsibility of caring for us children: dressing, feeding and washing us every day.
There were days we had so little to eat they’d put us all in the cart while we travelled from one farmer to the next to beg some food. Luckily, all the farmers were kind and they’d give us eggs, milk and vegetables so we managed to get by until Mammy returned a few weeks later. We were so happy to see her and suddenly felt a lot safer.
A week after that, Daddy came back too. He was more composed and calmer than before and he’d sworn off the drink, which we all thought was for the best.
‘Daddy, what was the mental hospital like?’ Brian asked that evening.
‘Ah, it wasn’t all that nice,’ Daddy said, a little sadly, as he stroked Floss, who probably missed my father the most when he was gone. ‘They give me the electric shocks to get my head straight again.’
‘What’s that, then? Electric shocks?’ Brian was in a curious mood.
‘It’s like being struck by lightning,’ Daddy explained. ‘Like a big bolt of lightning in your head.’
We all gasped in horror – imagine being struck by lightning to make you better! It sounded horrifying. But at least we had our parents back again.
Weeks later my parents announced they had to go into town to get a bit of shopping and they’d be back later in the day. We were desperate to go with them, but no amount of begging and pleading from any of us would change their minds.
‘We have something important to do. We won’t be long,’ my mother said as she pulled on her heavy winter coat and they both started walking down the road.
So we spent the day roaming the fields and climbing trees as usual. On our way home we spotted Mammy and Daddy walking back towards the wagon just ahead of us so we all ran and surrounded them, happy to see them back. My mother was carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.
Brian asked my mother: ‘What’s that you’re carrying in your arms? In that blanket?’
‘Ah, I got a little sister for you lot. Her name is Libby,’ my mother replied as she gently bent down to show off the baby.
‘Wow, a baby! Where did you get the baby?’ I asked excitedly. We loved babies and we all tried to clamber over my mother to catch a glimpse.
‘Well, we were walking past this farmer’s field and there were cabbages growing there. Mammy saw a leg sticking out and Mammy pulled out this little baby!’ She laughed as she grabbed my hand. We all walked back together, our attention focused on the new addition to the family – a new sister, Libby!
Brian, Tara, Colin and I were out and about the next day with nothing particular planned when Brian had an idea.
‘I want to get myself a baby like our mother did!’ he said. ‘Didn’t she say she got it from under the cabbages? There must be a cabbage field somewhere and we’ll get our own babies to look after. That’s what we’ll do. We could get a few babies each. Now what do you lot think about that? Ain’t that a grand idea!’
Brian beamed. He was always so clever and smart, always the one thinking up the new schemes and games. And this one seemed like a really good idea, one of his best!
So we crossed the fields, skipping along, our strides quickening until we got to the farm. There we saw all the cabbages with the white heads peeking out of the soil.
There were rows and rows of cabbages, hundreds, thousands of them! Where to start? We were already bursting with excitement at the prospect of having all those babies.
Brian went first. He stepped up to the cabbage nearest to him while we stood watching, full of anticipation. He bent down to grab it and started pulling it out of the ground. It wasn’t that easy. He yanked it, left and right, loosening up the soil before giving it one mighty heave and, with a sudden jerk, the cabbage came loose and he stumbled backwards. He threw it to the side then went to investigate the hole that it had left behind. We all peered in beside him, eager to see the baby – but there wasn’t one! We were shocked.
‘I don’t understand.’ Brian was baffled. ‘Mammy said she’d found it under the cabbage.’
Tara chimed in: ‘Maybe there ain’t one under that one, but there could be one under this cabbage.’ And she headed over to another cabbage to start work.
Then we all started pulling up the cabbages, all of