Phyllis McKenna

 

 

 

I am a decimal point. My worth or worthlessness hinges on my agility, my position on the mathematical calculation. I hold past, present and future in the depths of my numerical magic. I adore travelling, distance not measured by miles or metres, slight shift to the left I’m near, shift to the right I’m heading far.

I resemble an inconsequential blot on a pristine white page, perhaps lost or forgotten in the midst of a complicated formulae or equivalent equation. No spidery sign or flowery figure necessary to establish my existence.

Dot on a page, chalk mark on a board, I’m easy, but ignore my presence at your peril.

Place me in the wrong position and pennies in your purse could become pitiably poorer. Shift me several slidings eitherside and that delayed detonation delivers disaster.

Omit me occasionally and oceans overcome the populated planet. I am ten times mightier than the minus sign, one thousand times more popular than the plus, tens of thousands times more diabolical than the division and a million times mighter than a megatron.

I am Legendary! I am Legion! I am a Decimal Point!

 

 

Shuffling slowly forward, spirits spiralling downwards I thought WHY ME?

Shoving me on, my tormentor whispered torturous threats.

“Don’t think about escape. I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Please don’t make me” I appealed to her hidden humanity.

I was mercilessly manhandled and pulled into the brightly lit building. Bodies filled the room, old bodies, cackling, crowing and cavorting obscenely. A traffic jam of zimmer frames slowed my progress, perilously close to my unguarded shins. Greyheads locked in earnest conservations, wicked whispers and covert glances directed towards rival groups. Armed and dangerous with treacherous teapots and bucket sized handbags, this gaggle of grannies, painted and powdered, clothed in crepes and crinoline converged en masse and like lascivious lemmings vanished through an open door.

My ordeal was imminent. I was trapped. My kidnapper caught my arm and trailed me towards the torture chamber. The noise was deafening as voices vied to be heard, until individual hearing aids were turned on, then blessed silence.

Leering, lurid likenesses, on tee shirts, bags, hats and walls had me longing for escape. I felt sick, saddened for my suffering sisters. Deluded and desperate they must be, elderly escapism combined with misplaced maternal notions led them here.

I wanted out! Too late!

Lights dimmed, anticipatory silence, broken only by the falsetto sound of clacking false teeth and hip replacement hinges creaking, knee joints clapping closed and miscellaneous other bodily brackets. Anaesthetised with ruby red wine and crisply chilled Chardonnay my despair downsized somewhat.

Aarrgh! I jerked awake, in response not only to a prod from my persecuting partner but also to a whiny wailing issuing from centre stage. Dread and revulsion revived my senses and my depression deepened. Would I have to endure two hours of this prancing, pitiful, person? Singing with a sugary sweetness that assailed my senses and pained my inner ear. I cringed and curled up, sinking deeper into my seat, terrified of being recognised and ridiculed, robbed of my respectability. My kidnapper clapped with the rest of the pathetic pensioners, her attention never wavering enough to permit my escape. Seconds suffocated me, minutes murdered me and the hours hung heavily on my heart. The final fading notes from the boring balladeer, but the audience applause was delayed. Some fans had fallen asleep, some hearing aid batteries had failed and continuous trips to the toilets had turned into tours.

“Isn’t he sexy!”

The final straw! I hit my feeble minded friend with the programme, swore never to accompany her to a Daniel concert again and swooped off to find a strong bottle of alcoholic forgetfulness.

I’m an Elvis fan! Get me out of here!

 

 

OUTSIDE LIBRARY ON FALLS ROAD> SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC AND PEDESTRIANS

AGGIE: This isn’t the picture house, Sadie. What’s this? I thought we were going to see Daniel’s life story. Lovely wee soul’ he is, awful good to his mother. Oh, when he sings…

SADIE: I could cry and strangle him at the same time. Aggie there is no Daniel O’ Donnell life story, I only told ye that to get ye here. Anyway it would be so boring people would be asking for their money back, after they woke up, that is. This is a library where you take out books to read. We’re going to get educated.

AGGIE: Edumicated, Sadie but I am. I went to St Peters and Mr Barnes, God rest him, said I was very, watchacallit, elusive. What’s that mean, Sadie.? I can spell that, you know, cause he kept saying it right into me face. I think he liked me. I had a wee crush on him, used to think about his big arms round leaning over to.. (AGGIE PUCKERS UP,EYES CLOSED, READY FOR AN IMAGINERY KISS.)

SADIE: Aggie, for fuck’s sake you were thirteen, your head full of wee notions and nookie. “Elusive means you were never fuckin’ there. Inspectors and all sent round to the house to find ye, your poor Ma was distracted. And where were you, down the entry with another fella. I swear, you should be swanning in the Bahamas now with al the money you earned.,

AGGIE: Sadie, you take that back. I didn’t do anything, (GIGGLING) They did! But I didn’t get any money. I wasn’t one of them Albert clock girls. Where would wee boys get money but I did get me share of fish suppers and ice lollies. (DREAMILY) and then Jimmy came along.

SADIE: Aye, and look where that got ye. A council house in the back street of Belfast .And where is he now? Six feet under after waving at a bus, thought it was a taxi, drunken sod. Standing in front of it, trying to stop a fuckin’ bus. Jesus.

AGGIE: My Jimmy was a good wee man. Never laid a finger on me in all our years.

SADIE; Only because he was too drunk to find ye. And has for the Howdoyedo’s he howdoyedoed all over town. The neighbours used to call him Riser, up and at it all the time, only not with you.

AGGIE: No, Sadie, it’s because he was always up early and away to his work. My wee man was a grafter.

SADIE: Yer wee man was a fucker. Did ye never wonder why he was up so early He never fuckin’ went to bed, out all night boozing and whatever. You slept like the dead, Aggie, ye were so tired. He did nothin. Kept his energy for the humpin’ and the bumpin’.

AGGIE: Ach, Sadie, sure I loved him.

SADIE: I know, Love, I know. Well we buried him last week and now its our turn. We’re going to find out all about the Sahara and stuff.

SAGGIE: Sahara! Thon disco thing in Plevna Street? Sure that’s a fuckin’ disgrace, that is, those kids come outta there the worse for drink. And here – (SHE LEANS TOWARDS SADIE TO WHISPER IN HER EAR) – They’re smokin’ thon marachi stuff. I see it growing everywhere especially in that new man’s back garden. Selling marachi near the Holy Lord. Fuck me. Some people. You know him with the hat and a bit of a limp, lives near the chapel. Would ye believe it?

SADIE: Christ, Sadie, do you ever make sense? I think you’ve been smoking it. Thon man is our new parish priest and I can assure you he is not growing marachi – marijuana in his back garden. It’s probably tomatoes. And anyway what were you dong in his back garden. Nosy sod. Welcoming the new neighbour, were ye? If you went to church more ye’d know him.

AGGIE: I do go, Sadie, when my knee’s not bothering me. I go to confession every month, I do.

SADIE: Aggie, you go once a year and have to take a packed lunch to share with the priest, ye take that long. What the hell do you be saying? You couldn’t be that sinful. The poor man’s ag ed ten years by the time you’ve talked his head off.

AGGIE: (GIGGLING) Sure I make them up, Sadie, just in case I do them in the future and forget to go. Like a wee tally book.

SADIE: You’re going to Hell in a handcart, Aggie. Anyway (AS AGGIE OPENS HER MOUTH TO PROTEST) Not that Sahara, the Sahara desert. The one that’s in eh – near eh, somewhere far away. Just get in.

(AND SHE GIVES AGGIE A SHOVE THROUGH THE LIBRARY DOOR)

AGGIE: (LOOKING ROUND) Fuck, Sadie there’s more books here than the charity shop in Castle Street. How much do they charge? My Jimmy used to get three for a pound. Love stories, he said. Must have been real weepies, Sadie. I could hear him crying and panting in his room. Wee softie, he was.

SADIIE: Not after reading those he’s not Aggie, he gets his books from Smithfield and they’re jerkers alright, only not tear jerkers, I can tell you that and definitely not three for a pound. You wouldn’t be wanting to read them second hand. Is that what he told you, lying wee bugger. Did ye never wonder, Aggie, why one of his hand’s was bigger than the other? (DIRTY LAUGH FROM SADIE)

AGGIE: What? Really? Well. He wasn’t born like that.

SADIE: Sssh! Thon woman’s giving us the evil eye. Ye have to be quiet.

AGGIE Well, how do ye ask what the books are about?

SADIE: Ye read the spines, Aggie.

AGGIE: What? Spines? Hers! Wouldn’t she be awful annoyed if we pulled up her shirt to have a look. All them books on her spine. Jesus!

SADIE: Fuck sake, Aggie just follow me.

(HEADING TOWARDS THE ISSUE DESK)

 

SADIE: (IN POSH VOICE) Good afternoon, Miss. Could we have a book on deserts?

AGGIE: (POKING SADIE IN RIBS) Why’re you talking like that, Sadie. You sound like your woman of the news. Now here, I’m not good at the cooking. Jimmy says my rock cakes are like cannon balls I could use them in the next riot.

LIBRARIAN: Could you please be quiet?

AGGIE: Are you talking to me lady? Sadie did she just tell me to shut up. Who the fuck do you think you are, Mrs., in your twin set and Tweedy perfume. I’ll have you know…. (PEERING INTO THE LIBRARIAN’S FACE. SADIE PULLS HER AWAY AND WHISPERS)

SADIE: I am so sorry. Please excuse my friend. She’s had a bad shock recently or she will have pretty soon. (NEARLY STRANGLING AGGIE AS SHE STRUGGLES TO GET FREE. FISTS FLAILING< PUNCHING THE AIR)

LIBRARIAN: If you don’t behave I shall have to ask you to vacate the premises. This is a silent establishment and people are engrossed in various intellectual occupations.

AGGIE: Do ye speak English, love? Your mouths going a mile a minute and I don’t know what you said. It’s twisting something shocking wi’ them long words.

SADIE: Aggie, behave. The sooner we get this, the sooner we’re outta here.

AGGIE (SULKING): I don’t want it, whatever it is. Why do you wanna know about the Sarry desert anyway?

SADIE: It’s a start, getting us educated. Doesn’t have to be deserts, could be anything. What do you wanna learn about.

AGGIE: I love the seaside, Sadie with all them wee fishes and stuff, ye know

LIBRARIAN: We do have books on the marine lives of underwater creatures.

AGGIE: was I talking to you, Miss fur coat and no kn….

LIB: (EDGING AWAY FROM AGGIE) If you would just fill in the form please, you will receive a card.

AGGIE: Card? What kinda card? Bank card? Savings card? Ah, Sadie it’s not one of them cards that takes a bit of ye and gives to somebody else, is it? Tch, it is, isn’t it? To get a book ye have to give somethin’. Jesus, I knew it couldn’t be free. Anybody with a bake like hers wouldn’t give you anything for free. Holy Mother of God, (BLESSING HERSELF) They’re gonna take my heart, me lungs or me brain. I’m away. I don’t like fishes that much.

SADIE AND LIBRARIAN STARE AT AGGIE IN UTTER DISBELIEF

SADIE: Aggie, I don’t know where your head is sometimes but wherever it is there’s no brain in it to take, you wouldn’t have put up with Jimmy if there was, you can’t run the length of yourself so that’s your lungs out and your heart’s worn out wi’ that man of yours. A library card, you give it to the woman to get a book.

AGGIE: Sadie, you’re always putting my Jimmy down. I tole ye, he read a lot. Very edumicated, he was.

SADIE: (SIGHING) Right, Aggie. Just get your name and address on this.

AGGIE: Hmmm! Okay. (LOOKING PUZZLED AT THE PAPER.)

LIB: (SMIRKING) Something wrong, is there?

AGGIE: None of your fuckin’ business, snooty.

SADIE: Aggie, you can read and write, can’t ye?

AGGIE: Well, you see, I couldn’t get the hang of it, all them squiggly lines and stuff. And anyway I was always put outside the class for talking.

SADIE: Imagine that. Was there some duking school goin on’ as well.

AGGIE: Well, now that’s another wee story. Ye see, there was this fella….

SADIE: Aggie, get out. You’re doing my head in. (TO LIB> IN POSH VOICE) I am ever so sorry.

AGGIE: I’m not, stuck up cow.

(SHE LIFTS STAMPER FROM DESK AND STAMPS THE LIBRARIANS FOREHEAD>)

AGGIE: There! Somebody can borrow ye now and heaven help them.

SADIE: AGGIE!!