Apples There was an apple tree by the crossroads where Kathleen and I took school in secret The tree had apples of gold with red speckles great drooping drooping branches full of fruit Now Kathleen’s a proper scholar and would have walked across an ocean of fire for school But me Well sometimes I’d just go for those golden apples And I’d bring them home by the armload for Ma and Granny and all my brothers I stick my head right into the barrel and breathe in the sweet tang of the fruit Sometimes when Packy or Christy found work they brought home flour Sometimes John did the lord’s milking and churning churning and got a portion of butter for pay Then we’d have bread and apples for dinner instead of potatoes Didn’t I feel like a king on those days If Da had still been with us I wouldn’t have had a sorrow in the world I reach in and draw out an apple My hand shakes and my mouth waters as I tuck it away in my coat pocket I should go I should creep away back to Granny I’ve got what she needs but I haven’t had an apple in a year It’s been nothing but ship’s rations and workhouse gruel and whatever we could beg on the road The barrel calls to me again My apple 5
is red and wrinkled I should put it back but I tell myself I’ll just smell it The trouble with hunger is that when there isn’t any food at all you can tell yourself you don’t need any and half-believe it But as soon as the smallest morsel goes in your mouth hunger wakes up in you like a wild creature I sink my teeth into the apple and feel the burst of tart sweetness like a bolt of lightning that dazzles your eye and leaves you blind I bite and chew and gasp licking the streams of juice that run down my chin The honey goodness of it fills me up Without thinking I start doing the shuffle-hops of the light jig just for the joy of having food in my mouth Aye who’s there comes a gruff voice from the passage I freeze apple juice running down my chin Show yourself A sailor brings the lantern to the door of the brig He’s broad-shouldered and black as a bottle of ink He rattles the chain I silently slide to the floor There is a long pause My heartbeat can be heard from one end of the ship to the other I’m sure of it The man gives the nearest barrels a shake Rats scatter when I shake the barrels 6
A key snicks into the lock and the chain clanks free There’s an easy way to do this and a hard way He pulls back the hammer of a pistol until it clicks My mind snaps back to Packy and the bloody back wall of the police station The English caught him stealing food they say They never proved it in a court Never had to Not to shoot an Irishman Would this sailor shoot a boy He doesn’t look English but he sounds like them I raise my hands above my head above the barrels and slowly slowly I stand up Ahh for pity’s sake The sailor lowers his pistol pistol Look at the state of you You’re barely thicker than a stalk of wheat Did you stowaway I shake my head vigorously My heart runs like a rabbit He could shoot me right here and they’d never know what became of me I’m only ranked to mete out discipline to rats The captain will see you for this The ship’s contract has a litany of flogging offenses Stealing food tops the list The sailor takes hold of the scruff of my jacket and steers me before him Every step of the way I remember my Packy shot for stealing food My Da sent clear to Australia 7
for stealing food Ma Christy and John all gone and me the last man to carry on the name I’m going to die on the wide ocean where they won’t even set a gravestone over my body all for the taste of an apple The captain’s cabin is a lord’s estate all packed into one room candlesticks and shining pewter on the table maps and pens and inks on the desk Books in the cabinets and food Food on the table a mountain mountain of it between the captain and the quartermaster The sailor stands in the door Found him in the stores Captain A thief the quartermaster says Who left the stores unlocked says the captain Not I the quartermaster says Chained and locked sir The sailor nudges me forward He stole the key then Shake out his pockets I’d been ready to take a flogging if only I could keep Granny’s apple But they’ll find it for sure if they search me and then I’ll get a double flogging and Granny’ll get nothing I d-don’t need a key Hands clenched I make a quarter-turn so the captain can see that I’m thin enough to slip through the bars 8
