The Poor Mouth Part 8

13.

IN the months that followed the weather was particularly vile: it was a season of downpours and high wind, and the temperature at night was such as to compel me to heap two overcoats on top of my bed. But Mr Collopy ignored the nightly tempest. He left the house frequently about eight and people told me that he was a familiar figure, sheltering under a sodden umbrella, on the fringe of the small crowds attending street-corner meetings in Foster Place or the corner of Abbey Street. He was not in any way concerned with the purpose or message of those meetings. He was there to heckle, and solely from the angle of his own mysterious preoccupation. His main demand was that first things should come first. If the meeting advocated a strike in protest against low wages on the railways, he would counter by roaring that the inertia of the Corporation was more scandalous and a far more urgent matter for the country.

One night he came home very thoroughly drenched, and instead of going straight to bed, he sat at the range taking solace from his crock.

For heaven's sake go to bed, Father, Annie said. You are drownded. Go to bed and I will make you punch.

Ah no, he said brightly. In such situations my early training as a hurler will stand to me.

Sure enough, he had a roaring cold the following morning and did stay in bed for a few days by command of Annie, who did not lack his own martinet quality. Gradually the cold ebbed but when he was about the house again his movements were very awkward and he complained loudly of pains in his bones. Luckily he was saved the excruciation of trying to go upstairs, for he had himself built a lavatory in the bedroom in Mrs Crottys' time. But his plight was genuine enough, and I suggested that on my way to school I should drop in a note summoning Dr Blennerha.s.sett.

I am afraid, he said, that that good man is day tros. He means well but d.a.m.n the thing he knows about medicine.

But he might know something about those pains of yours.

Oh, all right.

Dr Blennerha.s.sett did call and said Mr Collopy had severe rheumatism. He prescribed a medicament which Annie got from the chemist-red pills in a round white box labelled 'The Tablets'. He also said, I believe, that the patient's intake of sugar should be drastically reduced, that alcohol should not in any circ.u.mstances be consumed, that an endeavour should be made to take mild exercise, and to have hot baths as often as possible. Whether or not Mr Collopy met those four conditions or any of them, he grew steadily worse as the weeks went by. He took to using a stick but I actually had to a.s.sist him in the short distance between his armchair and his bed. He was a cripple, and a very irascible one.

I had arranged one night to attend a session of Jack Mulloy's poker school, but a crafty idea had crept into my head. A late start for 8.30 p.m. had been fixed, apparently because Jack had to go somewhere or do something first. I deliberately put my watch an hour fast, and hopefully knocked on the door in nearby Mespil Road at what was really half seven. A pause, and the door was opened by Penelope.

My, you're early, she said in that charming husky voice.

I gracefully stepped into the hall and said it was nearly half eight. I showed her my watch.

Your watch is crazy, she said, but come in to the fire. Will you have a cup of coffee?

I will, Penelope, if you will have one with me.

I won't be a moment.

Wasn't that a delightful little ruse of mine? So far as I could see, we were alone in the house. Silly ideas came into my head, ideas that need not be mentioned here. I was the veriest tyro in such situations. Into my head came the names of certain voluptuaries and libertines of long ago, and then I began to wonder how the brother would handle matters were he in my place. She came with a pot of coffee, biscuits, and two delightful little cups. In the light her belted dress was trim, modest, a little bit mysterious; or perhaps I mean enchanting.

Well now, Finbarr, she said, tell me all the news and leave nothing out.

There's no news.

I don't believe that. You are hiding something.

Honestly, Penelope.

How is Annie?

Annie's in good order. She never changes. In fact she never changes even her clothes. But poor Mr Collopy is crucified with rheumatism. He is a complete wreck, helpless and very angry with himself. He kept going out to get drowned in the rain every night a few months ago, and this is the price of him.

Ah, the poor man.

And what about poor me? I have to act the male nurse while I'm in the house.

Well, everybody needs help some time or other. You might grow to be a helpless old man yourself. How would you like that?

I wouldn't fancy it. Probably I'd stick my head in the gas oven.

But if you had very bad rheumatism you couldn't do that. You wouldn't be able to stoop or bend.

Couldn't I get you to call and help me to get my head in?

Ah no, Finbarr, that would not be a nice thing. But I would call all right.

To do what?

To nurse you.

Heavens, that would be very nice.

She laughed. I must have allowed true feeling to well up in that remark. I certainly meant what I said, but did not like to appear too brash.

Do you mean to say, I smiled, that I would have to have a painful and loathesome disease before you would call to see me?

Oh, not at all, Finbarr, she said. But I'd be afraid of Mr Collopy. He once called me 'an unmannerly school-girl', all because I told him in the street that his shoelaces were undone.

His bootlaces, you mean, I corrected. To h.e.l.l with Mr Collopy.

Now, now, now.

Well, he gets on my nerves.

You spend too much time in that kitchen. You don't go out enough. Do you ever go to a dance?

No. I don't know the first thing about dancing.

That's a pity. I must teach you.

That would be grand.

But first we'd have to get the loan of a gramophone somewhere.

I think I might manage that.

Our conversation, as may be seen, was trivial and pointless enough, and the rest of it was that kind.

Finally I got a bit bolder and took her hand in my own. She did not withdraw it.

What would you do, I asked, if I were to kiss your hand?

Well, well! I would scream the house down probably.

But why?

That's the why.

Uproar ensued all right, but it was in the hall. Jack Mulloy with two other b.u.t.ties had come in and were jabbering loudly as they hung up their coats. Alas, I had to disengage my excited mind and turn my thought to cards.

Curiously, I won fifteen shillings that night and was reasonably cheerful over the whole evening's proceedings, not excluding the little interlude with Penelope, as I made my way home. The route I took was by Wilton Place, a triangular shaded nook not much used by traffic. I knew from other experiences that it was haunted by prost.i.tutes of the very lowest cadres, and also by their scruffy clients. A small loutish group of five or six people were giggling in the shadows as I approached but became discreetly silent as I pa.s.sed. But when I had gone only two yards or so, I heard one solitary word in a voice I swore I knew: Seemingly.

I paused involuntarily, deeply shocked, but I soon walked on. I had, in fact, been thinking of Penelope, and that one word threw my mind into a whirl. What was the meaning of this thing s.e.x, what was the nature of s.e.xual attraction? Was it all bad and dangerous? What was Annie doing late at night, standing in a dark place with young blackguards? Was I any better myself in my conduct, whispering sly things into the ear of lovely and innocent Penelope? Had I, in fact, at the bottom of my heart dirty intentions, some dark deed postponed only because the opportunity had not yet presented itself.

As I had expected, the kitchen was empty, for I had a.s.sisted Mr Collopy to bed before going out earlier. I did not want to be there when Annie came. I got notepaper and an envelope, went upstairs and got into bed.

I lay there with the light on for a long time, reflecting. Then I wrote a confidential and detailed letter to the brother about, first, the very low and painful condition of Mr Collopy; and second, the devastating incident concerning Annie. I paused before signing my name and for a wild few minutes considered writing a little about myself and Penelope. But reason, thank G.o.d, prevailed. I said nothing but signed and sealed the letter.

14.

A REPLY was not long coming, taking the form of a parcel and a letter. I opened the letter first, and here it is: 'Many thanks for your rather alarming communication.

'From what you say it is clear to me that Collopy is suffering from rheumatoid arthritis, very likely of the peri-articular type. If you can persuade him to let you have a look, you will find that the joints are swollen and of fusiform shape and I think you will find that he is afflicted at the hands and feet, knees, ankles and wrists. Probably his temperature is elevated, and total rest in bed is most desirable. The focus of infection for rheumatoid arthritis is usually bad teeth and the presence in the gums of pyorrhoea alveolaris, so that he should order Hanafin's cab and call on a dentist. But happily we have invented here in the Academy a certain cure for the disorder, provided the treatment is sedulously followed. I am sending you under separate cover a bottle of our patent Gravid Water. It will be your own job to make sure that he takes a t/spoonful of it three times a day after meals. Se to the first dose before you leave the house in the morning, inquire about the daytime dose when you get back from school, and similarly ensure the evening dose. It would be well to tell Annie of the importance of this treatment and the need for regularity ...

At this stage I opened the parcel and under many wrappings uncovered a large bottle which bore a rather gaudy label Here was its message: THE GRAVID WATER.

The miraculous specific for the complete cure within one month of the abominable scourage known as Rheumatoid Arthritis.

Dose-one t-spoonful three times daily after meals.

Prepared at LONDON ACADEMY LABORATORIES.

Well, this might be worth trying, I thought, but immediately soaked the bottle in water and removed the label, for I knew that nothing would induce Mr Collopy to touch the contents if he knew or suspected that they had originated with the brother. I then resumed reading the letter: 'I was certainly shocked to hear that Annie has been consorting with cornerboys up the ca.n.a.l. These are dirty merchants and if she continues, disease will be inevitable. I am sure that neither you nor I could attempt any estimate of how cunning and cute she is or how totally ignorant and innocent. Does she know the Facts of Life? Apart from venereal disease, does she know of the danger of pregnancy? I don't think the arrival of an illegitimate on the doorstep would alleviate Collopy's rheumatoid condition.

'You did not say in your letter that you suspected that she had some infection but if she has, diagnosis without examination at this distance is rather difficult. I think we may rule out Granuloma Inguinale. It takes the form of very red, beefy ulceration. A clear symptom is ever-increasing debility and marked physical wasting, often ending in extreme cachexia and death. It is mostly met with in tropical countries, and almost confined to negroes. We may discount it.

'For similar reasons of rarity, we may discard the possibility of Lymphogranuloma Venereum. This is a disease of the lymph glands and lymph nodes, and one finds a hot, painful group of swollen buboes in the inguinal area. There will be headaches, fever and pains in the joints. The causitive agent is a virus. Here again, however, Lymphogranuloma Venereum is a near-monopoly of the negro.

'The greatest likelihood is that Annie, if infected, labours under the sway of H.M. Gonococcus. In women the symptoms are so mild at the beginning as to be unnoticed but it is a serious and painful invasion. There is usually fever following infection of the pelvic organs. Complications to guard against include endocarditis, meningitis and skin decay. Gonococcal endocarditis can be fatal.

'There remains, of course, the Main Act. This disease is caused by a virus known as spirochaeta pallida or treponema pallidum. We can have skin rash, lesions of the mouth, enlargement of lymph glands, loss of scalp hair, inflammation of the eyes, jaundice from liver damage, convulsions, deafness, meningitis and sometimes coma. The Last Act, the most serious, in most cases takes a cardiovascular form where the main lesion is seated in the thoracic aorta directly near the heart. The extensible tissue is ruined, the aorta swells and a saccular dilatation or an aneurysm may take shape. Sudden death is quite common. Other results are G.P.I. (paresis), locomotor ataxia, and wholesale contamination of the body and its several organs. My London Academy Laboratories markets a three-in-one remedy "Love's Lullaby" but as this specific involves fits and head-staggers in persons who have in fact not been infected at all, it would be unwise to prescribe for Annie on the blind.

'I would advise that at this stage you would keep her under very minute observation and see if you can detect any symptoms and then get in touch with me again. You might perhaps devise some prophylactic scheming such as remarking apropos of nothing that conditions on the ca.n.a.l bank are nothing short of a scandal with men and women going about there poxed up to the eyes, drunk on methylated spirits, flooding the walks with contaminated puke and making it unsafe for Christians even to take a walk in that area. You could add that you are writing to the D.M.P. urging the arrest at sight of any characters found loitering there. We all know that probably Annie is a cute and cunning handful but very likely she is not proof against a good fright. On the other hand you might consider telling Mr Collopy what you know, for it would be easier for a father to talk straight to his own daughter on this very serious subject, on the off-chance that Annie is innocent and quite uninstructed; in fact it would be his duty to do so. If you see fit to adopt that course, it would be natural to bring Father Fahrt into the picture, for the matter has a self-evident spiritual content. If being on the scene you would feel embarra.s.sed to thus take the initiative, I could write from here to Mr Collopy or Father Fahrt or both, telling of the information I have received (not disclosing the source) and asking that steps should be taken for prevention and/or cure.

'However, I must say that I doubt whether Annie is in trouble at all and the best plan might be to keep wide-awake so far as yourself is concerned, report to me if there are any symptoms or other development, and take no action for the present.'

Well, that was a long and rather turgid letter but I found myself in agreement with the last paragraph. In fact I put the whole subject out of my head and merely dedicated myself to Mr Collopy's rheumatism.

15.

I DULY produced the bottle of Gravid Water to Mr Collopy, saying it was a miracle cure for rheumatism which I had got from a chemist friend. I also produced a tablespoon and told him he was to take a spoonful without fail three times a day after meals. And I added that I would keep reminding him.

Oh well now, I don't know, he said. Are there salts in it?

No, I don't think so.

Is there anything in the line of bromide or saltpetre?

No. I believe the stuff in the fluid is mostly vitamins. I would say it is mainly a blood tonic.

Ah-Ah? The blood is all, of course. It's like the mainspring on a watch. If a man lets his blood run down, he'll find himself with all cla.s.ses of boils and rashes. And scabs.

And rheumatism, I added.

And who is this chemist when he is at home?

He's ... he's a chap I know named Donnelly. He works in Hayes, Conyngham and Robinson. He is a qualified man, of course.

Oh very well. I'll take a chance. Amn't I nearly crippled? What have I to lose?

Nothing at all.

There and then he took his first tablespoonful and after a week of the treatment said he felt much better. I was glad of this and emphasized the necessity of persevering in the treatment. From time to time I wrote to the brother for a fresh bottle.

After six weeks I began to notice something strange in the patient's attempts at movement. His walk became most laborious and slow and the floor creaked under him. One night in bed I heard with a start a distant rending crash coming from his bedroom off the kitchen. I hurried down to find him breathless and tangled in the wreckage of his bed. It seems that the wire mattress, rusted and rotted by Mrs Crotty's nocturnal diuresis (or bed-wetting) had collapsed under Mr Collopy's weight.

Well, the dear knows, he said shrilly, isn't this the nice state of affairs? Help me out of this.

I did so, and it was very difficult.

What happened? I asked.