Motherhouse Read online

  Points at a dead bird hanging upside down from its swing in a birdcage.

  Otis didn’t make it … Nothing more dead than a dead bird, eh Otis? … like Mrs. Biggs upstairs in 627?

  Looks up at Mrs. Biggs’s flat and yells.

  Mrs. Biggs? … Haven’t heard her cough in a week now …

  Lets out a real screech.

  Miss-is Biggs? … and there’s Madame Benoit over there hanging from her washing line … been hanging there about two or three days … or maybe I just have to change my glasses … oh well, gonna be carrying me out of here too I guess …

  Singsong recitation.

  Oh, they built a sewer where

  Me mother’s grave used to be

  Dug her up last week

  Shoes still on her feet

  Give you ten cents on the dollar

  If you promise not to holler

  And a nice big quart of beer

  Takes sip of water.

  But me maw liked it here – she said – big step up from the Shankill Road, she thought, but me dah wasn’t that happy in Protestant Verdun … was too much “Like fookin’ ” – pardon my French – “fookin’ Belfast dis fookin’ place with the fookin’ Pope and the fookin’ King and two fookin’ languages to be fookin’ stoopid in.”

  And me dah drinking and more drinking and losing that good job in the Grand Trunk yards and getting what Mother called a joe job … “The kind of job a peasoup or a paddy would get, not a Protestant” … working on the boats as a stoker …

  Mimes shovelling.

  Huh … shovelling …

  Shovelling.

  Huh … shovelling … bunched up the muscles in the back … like the playwright’s grandfather … walked like this …

  Arms akimbo.

  like an ape …

  Akimbo.

  ya know, like the stoker in Eugene O’Neill’s The Hairy Ape? … Here’s me big chance to do an audition for the national theatre.

  Does stagey full-illusionary imitation of O’Neill’s character, YANK.

  “Aw, hell! Dat’s me now – I don’t tick, see? – I’m a busted clock, dat’s what” …

  Flexes arm muscles.

  “Steel was me, and I owned de woild.”

  Flexes muscles again.

  “Now I ain’t steel, and de woild owns me … Aw, hell! I can’t see – it’s all dark … Say, youse up dere, Mao Tse-tung in de moon? Yuh look so wise, gimme de answer, huh?” – Ko-ko-ka-chew.

  Smiles and takes a bow.

  Thank you, thank you … And for all you academics teaching at the National Theatre School? … That’s called … acting? …

  Takes sip of water.

  Well, finally me dah – she said – he just stopped coming here … just didn’t come home … waiting … still waiting … even after hearing years later Joseph John Bradley died at sea when the Ulster Queen, sunk by a German U-boat, went down with all hands in the Mediterranean for godsakes … doubt whether me dah even knew where that was … before getting drowned in it.

  Med … teh … ruh-ruh … rain … e … an … One D and two Rs.

  Pauses then recites.

  A sailor went to sea, sea, sea

  To see what he could see, see, see

  But all that he could see, see, see

  Was the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea.

  Takes sip of water.

  Yeah that goddamn war – she said – A world war … a war of the worlds but not from outer space … It happened right here … Something born … something snapped loose … Didn’t have to happen … all of that killing … like a dream … maybe it was a dream.

  And just the other day it all came back on me? … when I decided to go out? … hadn’t been out in weeks … got the neighbour’s boy to get me down the stairs … those stairs.

  Struggling to keep her balance on the steep incline.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – oh boy – oh boy – “Wait-wait, got to turn around” …

  Turns around and mimes going backwards down the steep staircase.

  “You’re not looking up my dress, are you, ya little bugger?” … and … getting down on the sidewalk and …

  Looks around.

  Aww … it’s a beautiful spring day, a Sunday, and me legs lumbering up, telling myself, well, think I’ll just walk over to Atwater and catch the 107 Uptown where, I heard the bells, you know? … all the church bells ringing – cu-link – ringing – cu-link – that big Presbyterian church there on Sherbrooke Street? – cu-link – the St. Andrew and St. Paul – cu-link – with the big wooden church doors swinging open … Well not really swinging, more like creaking open …

  And oh – she said – and … there they are again … good enough to eat … the glorious and legendary 13th Battalion of the Royal Highlanders of Canada, the Black Watch … So young and true … Coming out on the church steps and forming themselves like they did into companies on the day they first went overseas … in 1914 off to fight the Germans in their tartan kilts and sporrans and spats and bonnets with – yum-yum – saucy red hackles …

  And … look? … the drum major signalling –

  Mimes drum major making first swing of his baton.

  boom-dah-boom-dah-boom – bass drum – boom-dah-boom-dah-boom – then – ratta-ta-ta-tah – the snares – rrr-ratta-ta-ta-tah and boom-dah-boom – then – a-waw-a-waw – oo-oh the pipes … the pipes – a-waw a-waw – pulling us with them – a-waw …

  Swaying to the music.

  “Highland laddie, hieland laddie” – a-waw-a-waww – piper pulling you where you shouldn’t want to go – a-waw–a-waw – you know if a man had hips it’d be really sexy …

  Sings.

  “And what does a Scottie have under his kilt?” – a-wang-a-wang …

  Shouts.

  Hurr-ray!

  And there’s my brother, George Langdon Bradley, wearing the tailored uniform I helped pay for … mother’s pride and joy …

  Half-hearted wave.

  “Hello, George … George? … hello?” … with poor little Billy Williamson beside him …

  Calls.

  “Hello, Billy! … You look silly with a moustache” … Just what you need in no man’s land, a goddamn moustache …

  Shouts.

  Hurray! … “Going to send those Germans back to their” – wah-doom – “pretzels und Kaiser” – vah-doom – “Von Daschund und wiener schnitzels, boys” …

  Aside.

  Even-though-I-only-had-wiener-schnitzel-once-served-with-a-fried-egg-on-top … yoke? … still? … jiggling?

  Mimes jiggling.

  ooooo-ughh – those goddamn Germans? … Hurray! … And – oo-ooo – look over there …

  Mimes upper-class accent.

  “Hurrah” … the Westmount ladies there in silks and satins on the steps of the Windsor Hotel … “Hurrah” … with an oh-so-dainty toss of a rose?

  Mimes tossing a rose in dainty ladylike fashion.

  “Hurrah” … dollar a goddamn rose all the way … blood, blood-red, red roses … and I’m counting them …

  Toss.

  Six dollars …

  Toss.

  Seven dollars …

  Toss.

  Eight dollars – my God – she said – that’s what I make a week working for the Miss Bennett-Jones Catering Agency supplying superior service for Westmount people like Sir Arthur Bebop Bigshot Bigbody taking the salute seeing only what he wants, only what he needs …

  Military command.

  “Eyes right!”

  Salutes while marching in step.

  “Forward march!” … “And how does the world look in the mirror today, Sir Bigbody Bepob?”

  Recites in singsong while slapsticking a military march.

  Oh the colonel on parade

  Toot toot

  He had ten thousand men

  Toot toot

  He marched them up to the top of the hill

  But he never saw them again

  Toot
toot

  But when they were up, they were up?

  Toot toot

  And when they were down, they were down?

  Toot toot

  And when they were only halfway up

  They were all dead on the ground?

  TOOT!

  Does loudspeaker voice.

  “Num-ber Nine at Track Number Nine” … That was the train that took them out … yeahh-h … getting onboard … Protestant train made by Protestant boys in a Protestant city proud and true with a French mayor, but “We’ll fix that when you get back, won’t we, boys?”

  Calls.

  “And make sure they don’t take our jobs!” … “Jobs will be here when you get back, boys” …

  Everybody waving those Union Jacks … yeahh-hh … Look at them … boys with faces that still come to mind … the smiles … or frowns … a certain cough or funny way of sneezing … or a burp … can’t always pick your memories … the way a certain word would be pronounced …

  Does lisp.

  “Good … bbbww … bye … Lillabit.”

  Big white blasts of steam and then the smoke … those big driving wheels cranking up …

  Mimes engine slowly cranking up.

  shud-shud-shud – puh – puh – puh – pump-pump-pump …

  Whistles then starts waving and then frowns.

  Bye, boys … Hey, it’s going backwards? … goddamn peasoups … Hey this way – this way! … pretending they don’t speak the good h’English … oh well …

  Switches to waving at reversing train.

  Bye and clanggg-gg – clang-gg – glang – yeahh-hh … My little boyfriend … Billy Williamson … Goodbye …

  Waving.

  Bye, boys, bye … Just wade right in and smile …

  Starts singing.

  “Smile, boys, it never was worthwhile … so pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and” …

  Smile …

  Louder.

  Smile!

  Screams.

  SMILE!!

  Does Al Jolson routine.

  “’Cause when you’re smiling, when you’re smiling” …

  Drops the Al Jolson razzmatazz routine. Long pause.

  “Your teeth look shiny new” … while-choking-on-that-chlorine-gas-like-swallowing-Comet-cleanser-with-Javel-water …

  “Mam-mm-may.”

  Then I got to sit down on a bench as the parade moved on along Sherbrooke because I got the wind knocked out of me just remembering all those memories that I don’t want to remember … and this woman comes up to me – kind of old Westmount lady who never ever got a tan in Florida – and no, I tell her, no, didn’t go to memorial service … no, don’t want to hear what was said … no, don’t tell me … no … Honour Duty Sacrifice … yeah yeah …

  Polite tone.

  “Thank you, thank you very much” … silly old bitch.

  Singsong recitation.

  Song of a dead bird is only heard

  In what’s missing

  It’s only there

  In what they don’t tell you

  We just died the way we do

  Of a disease nobody makes claim to

  And nobody seems to care much

  Whether we stay around much

  Ask them and they’ll tell you

  What they didn’t do.

  But – she said – things did seem to be going well overseas at first, according to letters we got from George from places on a map none of us ever heard of … with names that made you spit when you tried to say them … Zillebeke …

  Spit.

  Zandvoort …

  Big spit.

  Spanbroekmolen …

  Bigger spit.

  On maps like that one in the Montreal Star looking like we just took away from the Germans a big chunk of Belgium the size of Ville LaSalle.

  But take a closer look and you’ll notice the ground we took is not measured in miles but in yards … I’m not kidding … Like from the Tim Hortons here on the corner of d’Église and Lasalle to the Tim Hortons in the Angrignon Plaza on Newman Boulevard at a cost of … ten men killed for every goddamn step taken over there … just to get some Timbits to go?

  And in Verdun we were used to death because so many people were dying in those days … something in the air, in the food, in the water, and you’d see houses with the blinds pulled down and these mourning wreaths made out of crepe on the front doors.

  Purple wreaths for adults … white for children …

  Ooo-oo! – Used to run by those doors with the white ones – ooooo-oo – “Boogeyman gonna get you.”

  He got my baby sister … Born sickly … Crying all the time until they put her away frowning in this tiny white coffin? – ughh-hh – with purple plush satin inside? – ughh – It made me – uggh – Well, I puked right there in the funeral parlour …

  Edwina, that was her name … Edwina … But this was different – ddd-donngg – This was every day – dddd-donngg-gg …

  Mimes swaying of marching mourners.

  Long parades of people in black – d-dd-donngg-gg –

  black armbands – dd-dongg-gg – black dresses – d-ddongg – black veils – dd-donngg – ddd-ding-dong …

  Stops swaying.

  Doorbell rings … and rings … and rings …

  Does little girl voice.

  Baby baby boo-oo

  Please do up your sho-ooes

  You might go up in smo-ooke

  Or maybe even cho-ooke

  You better say goodby-yye

  ’Cause someone’s going to di-iiieee …

  Looks around audience.

  Who-oo? … Mick Mack … Mick Mack … Tick Tack … Tick Tack … Click Clack … Click Clack … Horborty Torborty … Mickertty Mackertty … Tickery Tackery … Clickerty Clackerty …

  Points at one person in audience.

  You-ou!

  Pause.

  Still got the memories … Got them all in here in this …

  Shows small box with lid.

  memory box … the usual stuff we all keep around …

  Opens box.

  Don’t know why we keep this stuff … Don’t know why we do this to ourselves …

  Sigh.

  Oh well … Now … here goes … the telegram …

  Takes telegram from box.

  King George the Fifth stamp on it? … Wonder how much it’s worth now? … So it reads … “Official Report that Sergeant Major George Langdon Bradley of the 13th Battalion of the Royal Canadian Highlanders Black Watch Is Missing in Action … Regina Trench … October 9th, 1916” … Well he’s not dead, he is just missing … They’ll find him … He’ll come back, he can’t be dead you know … George Langdon Bradley, who was written about in the Verdun Guardian … “CPR Baggage Clerk Hero Awarded for Bravery during Transport of Ammunition to the Front Line under an Artillery Barrage” …

  He’ll come back …

  But later we learned better than most what Missing in Action meant after being shown at the British Munitions Supply factory what a Mark II 4.5-inch shrapnel shell can do.

  We were told all about its “calculated terms of effect and efficiency” on film.

  Lights change.

  PROJECTION

  Cutaway diagram of the Mark II 4.5-inch shrapnel shell.

  Quotes.

  “The Mark II 4.5-inch shrapnel shell when fired properly will be travelling at 250 miles an hour 5 feet above the ground; exactly 35 seconds later, the time fuse will release and shrapnel in the form of 160 pellets the size of dimes will explode from the cone in a spray and kill anything within 30 feet.”

  In other words from here to here …

  Stretches her arms to indicate a whole section of the audience.

  You’re dead …

  Lowers her arms.

  You got that?

  Stretches her arms again to indicate another section of the audience.

  Anything from here and here …

  Mimes the spread of shrap
nel from one part of the audience to another, a whole section marked by dimming lights.

  From you to you … what you might have been, could have been … you … your future, the future that never happened … could have happened … that we might have had together, should have had together … never happened …

  It was Billy Williamson my little boyfriend who told me what happened to my brother when he got shipped back from France with his brains all scrambled … wasn’t himself anymore.

  He had the same name but he didn’t look the same.

  You know how sometimes you meet an old friend or a relative you have not seen in a long time but “Sure I recognize you because the eyes never change” …

  But a lot of men came back and the eyes were changed … Arms gone, legs gone, faces gone, their minds gone, memories, emotions all scrambled … No-Nose Nolan … Dead-Dick Johnson …

  Mimes Billy.

  “Butterfly Bill-y” kids called him because of his …

  Fluttering.

  hands … “Butterfly Bill-y” … and he says …

  Fluttering.

  “Lillabit, your brother” …

  Fluttering.

  “You know what he did? – Sergeant Major George Langdon Bradley … you know waw-what he did? … your brother?” …

  “‘Forward men’ … like that … like a goddamn hero in a goddamn picture book … ‘Forward Men!’ … and waff-ff … blew off his arm – waw-waff-f – blew off his legs … and-and-and – WAFF! – You-know-what-flew-back-at-us? … You-Know-What-Flew-Back? …

  Whispers.

  … one of his lungs.”

  Pause.

  I didn’t cry – she said – you know when I heard the news … I felt I should but … I just thought, well, if it’s true and it sounds terrible enough to be true and then … What do I tell my mother?

  Well I know sooner or later I have to tell my mother George is dead even though she’s already going a little bit nuts, ’cause I know we can’t get the money owed to George from his Canadian Pacific Railway pension plan till George is declared officially deceased and we sign an “Officially Deceased” form proving that said person is … indeed deceased.

  Sounds worse than dead doesn’t it? …

  Dee … ceased … de … doom … de-dead …

  Just these medals and ribbons left in this box … buttons with the 13th Battalion insignia on them, the bonnet clasp, the sporran … silver costing twenty-five dollars that I helped pay for with my sore feet working for the Miss Bennett-Jones Catering Agency supplying superior service to Westmount … and look at this? … Even an old rusty can of Brasso that still has that …