Dad tells me the angel is right, I shouldnat be afraid, and I tell him what Mikey Molloy did to me. I tell him all about Great Bladdered Emer and I even use the p.i.s.s word because the angel said, Fear not. Dad puts down his jam jar of tea and pats the back of my hand. Och, och, och, he says, and I wonder if heas going demented like Mrs. Molloy, in and out of the lunatic asylum, but he says, Is that what you were worried about last night?

I tell him it is and he says itas not a sin and I donat have to tell the priest.

But the Angel on the Seventh Step said I should.

All right.Tell the priest if you like but the Angel on the Seventh Step said that only because you didnat tell me first. Isnat it better to be able to tell your father your troubles rather than an angel who is a light and a voice in your head?

aTis, Dad.

The day before First Communion the master leads us to St. Josephas Church for First Confession.We march in pairs and if we so much as move a lip on the streets of Limerick heall kill us on the spot and send us to h.e.l.l bloated with sin.That doesnat stop the bragging about the big 125.

sins.Willie Harold is whispering about his big sin, that he looked at his sisteras naked body. Paddy Hartigan says he stole ten shillings from his auntas purse and made himself sick with ice cream and chips. Question Quigley says he ran away from home and spent half the night in a ditch with four goats. I try to tell them about Cuchulain and Emer but the master catches me talking and gives me a thump on the head.

We kneel in the pews by the confession box and I wonder if my Emer sin is as bad as looking at your sisteras naked body because I know now that some things in the world are worse than others. Thatas why they have different sins, the sacrilege, the mortal sin, the venial sin.Then the masters and grown-up people in general talk about the unforgivable sin, which is a great mystery. No one knows what it is and you wonder how you can know if youave committed it if you donat know what it is. If I tell a priest about Great Bladdered Emer and the p.i.s.sing contest he might say thatas the unforgivable sin and kick me out of the confession box and Iall be disgraced all over Limerick and doomed to h.e.l.l tormented forever by devils who have nothing else to do but stab me with hot pitchforks till Iam worn out.

I try to listen to Willieas confession when he goes in but all I can hear is a hissing from the priest and when Willie comes out heas crying.

Itas my turn. The confession box is dark and thereas a big crucifix hanging over my head. I can hear a boy mumbling his confession on the other side. I wonder if thereas any use trying to talk to the Angel on the Seventh Step. I know heas not supposed to be hanging around confession boxes but I feel the light in my head and the voice is telling me, Fear not.

The panel slides back before my face and the priest says,Yes, my child?

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.This is my First Confession.

Yes,my child, and what sins have you committed?

I told a lie. I hit my brother. I took a penny from my motheras purse.

I said a curse.

Yes,my child.Anything else?

I, I listened to a story about Cuchulain and Emer.

Surely thatas not a sin, my child. After all we are a.s.sured by certain writers that Cuchulain turned Catholic in his last moments as did his King, Conor MacNessa.

aTis about Emer, Father, and how she married him.

How was that,my child?

She won him in a p.i.s.sing contest.

126.

There is heavy breathing.The priest has his hand over his mouth and heas making choking sounds and talking to himself,Mother oa G.o.d.

Who, who told you that story,my child?

Mikey Molloy, Father.

And where did he hear it?

He read it in a book, Father.

Ah, a book. Books can be dangerous for children, my child.Turn your mind from those silly stories and think of the lives of the saints.

Think of St. Joseph, the Little Flower, the sweet and gentle St. Francis of a.s.sisi, who loved the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.Will you do that,my child?

I will, Father.

Are there any other sins,my child?

No, Father.

For your penance say three Hail Marys, three Our Fathers, and say a special prayer for me.

I will. Father,was that the worst sin?

What do you mean?

Am I the worst of all the boys, Father?

No,my child, you have a long way to go.Now say an Act of Contrition and remember Our Lord watches you every minute. G.o.d bless you,my child.

First Communion day is the happiest day of your life because of The Collection and James Cagney at the Lyric Cinema.The night before I was so excited I couldnat sleep till dawn.Iad still be sleeping if my grandmother hadnat come banging at the door.

Get up! Get up! Get that child outa the bed. Happiest day of his life ana him snorina above in the bed.

I ran to the kitchen.Take off that shirt, she said. I took off the shirt and she pushed me into a tin tub of icy cold water. My mother scrubbed me,my grandmother scrubbed me. I was raw, I was red.

They dried me.They dressed me in my black velvet First Communion suit with the white frilly shirt, the short pants, the white stockings, the black patent leather shoes. Around my arm they tied a white satin bow and on my lapel they pinned the Sacred Heart of Jesus, a picture of the Sacred Heart, with blood dripping from it, flames erupting all around it and on top a nasty-looking crown of thorns.

127.

Come here till I comb your hair, said Grandma. Look at that mop, it wonat lie down.You didnat get that hair from my side of the family.

Thatas that North of Ireland hair you got from your father. Thatas the kind of hair you see on Presbyterians. If your mother had married a proper decent Limerickman you wouldnat have this standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair.

She spat twice on my head.

Grandma, will you please stop spitting on my head.

If you have anything to say, shut up. A little spit wonat kill you.

Come on,weall be late for the Ma.s.s.

We ran to the church. My mother panted along behind with Michael in her arms.We arrived at the church just in time to see the last of the boys leaving the altar rail where the priest stood with the chalice and the host, glaring at me.Then he placed on my tongue the wafer, the body and blood of Jesus. At last, at last.

Itas on my tongue. I draw it back.

It stuck.

I had G.o.d glued to the roof of my mouth. I could hear the masteras voice, Donat let that host touch your teeth for if you bite G.o.d in two youall roast in h.e.l.l for eternity.

I tried to get G.o.d down with my tongue but the priest hissed at me, Stop that clucking and get back to your seat.

G.o.d was good. He melted and I swallowed Him and now, at last, I was a member of the True Church, an official sinner.

When the Ma.s.s ended there they were at the door of the church, my mother with Michael in her arms, my grandmother. They each hugged me to their bosoms.They each told me it was the happiest day of my life.They each cried all over my head and after my grandmotheras contribution that morning my head was a swamp.

Mam, can I go now and make The Collection?

She said,After you have a little breakfast.

No, said Grandma.Youare not making no collection till youave had a proper First Communion breakfast at my house. Come on.

We followed her. She banged pots and rattled pans and complained that the whole world expected her to be at their beck and call. I ate the egg, I ate the sausage, and when I reached for more sugar for my tea she slapped my hand away.

Go aisy with that sugar. Is it a millionaire you think I am? An Amer- 128.

ican? Is it bedecked in glitterina jewelry you think I am? Smothered in fancy furs?

The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came.

Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast.

Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus. I have G.o.d in me backyard.

What am I goina to do? Iall take him to the Jesuits for they know the sins of the Pope himself.

She dragged me through the streets of Limerick. She told the neighbors and pa.s.sing strangers about G.o.d in her backyard. She pushed me into the confession box.

In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Itas a day since my last confession.

A day? And what sins have you committed in a day,my child?

I overslept. I nearly missed my First Communion. My grandmother said I have standing up,North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair. I threw up my First Communion breakfast.Now Grandma says she has G.o.d in her backyard and what should she do.

The priest is like the First Confession priest. He has the heavy breathing and the choking sounds.

Ah . . . ah . . . tell your grandmother to wash G.o.d away with a little water and for your penance say one Hail Mary and one Our Father.

Say a prayer for me and G.o.d bless you,my child.

Grandma and Mam were waiting close to the confession box.

Grandma said,Were you telling jokes to that priest in the confession box? If atis a thing I ever find out you were telling jokes to Jesuits Iall tear the b.l.o.o.d.y kidneys outa you. Now what did he say about G.o.d in me backyard?

He said wash Him away with a little water, Grandma.

Holy water or ordinary water?

He didnat say, Grandma.

Well, go back and ask him.

But, Grandma . . .

She pushed me back into the confessional.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, itas a minute since my last confession.

A minute! Are you the boy that was just here?

I am, Father.

129.

What is it now?

My grandma says, Holy water or ordinary water?

Ordinary water, and tell your grandmother not to be bothering me again.

I told her,Ordinary water, Grandma, and he said donat be bothering him again.

Donat be bothering him again.That b.l.o.o.d.y ignorant bogtrotter.

I asked Mam, Can I go now and make The Collection? I want to see James Cagney.

Grandma said, You can forget about The Collection and James Cagney because youare not a proper Catholic the way you left G.o.d on the ground. Come on, go home.

Mam said,Wait a minute.Thatas my son.Thatas my son on his First Communion day. Heas going to see James Cagney.

No heas not.

Yes he is.

Grandma said,Take him then to James Cagney and see if that will save his Presbyterian North of Ireland American soul. Go ahead.

She pulled her shawl around her and walked away.

Mam said, G.o.d, itas getting very late for The Collection and youall never see James Cagney.Weall go to the Lyric Cinema and see if theyall let you in anyway in your First Communion suit.

We met Mikey Molloy on Barrington Street. He asked if I was going to the Lyric and I said I was trying.Trying? he said.You donat have money?

I was ashamed to say no but I had to and he said,Thatas all right. Iall get you in. Iall create a diversion.

Whatas a diversion?