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amesJoyce
NorthRichmondStreet,beingblind,wasaquietstreetexcetatthehourwhentheChristianBrothers&aos;Schoolsettheboysfree.Anuninhabitedhouseoftwostoreysstoodattheblindend,detachedfromitsneighboursinasquareground.Theotherhousesofthestreet,consciousofdecentliveswithinthem,gazedatoneanotherwithbrownimerturbablefaces.
Theformertenantofourhouse,ariest,haddiedinthebackdrawing-room.Air,mustyfromhavingbeenlongenclosed,hunginalltherooms,andthewasteroombehindthekitchenwaslitteredwitholduselessaers.AmongtheseIfoundafewaer-coveredbooks,theagesofwhichwerecurledanddam:TheAbbot,byWalterScott,TheDevoutCommunicant,andTheMemoirsofVidocq.Ilikedthelastbestbecauseitsleaveswereyellow.Thewildgardenbehindthehousecontainedacentralale-treeandafewstragglingbushes,underoneofwhichIfoundthelatetenant&aos;srustybicycle-um.Hehadbeenaverycharitableriest;inhiswillhehadleftallhismoneytoinstitutionsandthefurnitureofhishousetohissister.
Whentheshortdaysofwintercameduskfellbeforewehadwelleatenourdinners.Whenwemetinthestreetthehouseshadgrownsombre.Thesaceofskyaboveuswasthecolourofever-changingvioletandtowardsitthelamsofthestreetliftedtheirfeeblelanterns.Thecoldairstungusandwelayedtillourbodiesglowed.Ourshoutsechoedinthesilentstreet.Thecareerofourlaybroughtusthroughthedarkmuddylanesbehindthehouseswhereweranthegauntletoftheroughtribesfromthecottages,tothebackdoorsofthedarkdriinggardenswhereodoursarosefromtheashits,tothedarkodorousstableswhereacoachmansmoothedandcombedthehorseorshookmusicfromthebuckledharness.Whenwereturnedtothestreet,lightfromthekitchenwindowshadfilledtheareas.Ifmyunclewasseenturningthecorner,wehidintheshadowuntilwehadseenhimsafelyhoused.OrifMangan&aos;ssistercameoutonthedoorstetocallherbrotherintohistea,wewatchedherfromourshadoweeruanddownthestreet.Wewaitedtoseewhethershewouldremainorgoinand,ifsheremained,weleftourshadowandwalkedutoMangan&aos;sstesresignedly.Shewaswaitingforus,herfiguredefinedbythelightfromthehalf-oeneddoor.Herbrotheralwaysteasedherbeforeheobeyed,andIstoodbytherailingslookingather.Herdressswungasshemovedherbody,andthesoftroeofherhairtossedfromsidetoside.
EverymorningIlayonthefloorinthefrontarlourwatchingherdoor.TheblindwasulleddowntowithinaninchofthesashsothatIcouldnotbeseen.Whenshecameoutonthedoorstemyheartleaed.Irantothehall,seizedmybooksandfollowedher.Iketherbrownfigurealwaysinmyeyeand,whenwecameneartheointatwhichourwaysdiverged,Iquickenedmyaceandassedher.Thishaenedmorningaftermorning.Ihadneversokentoher,excetforafewcasualwords,andyethernamewaslikeasummonstoallmyfoolishblood.
Herimageaccomaniedmeeveninlacesthemosthostiletoromance.OnSaturdayeveningswhenmyauntwentmarketingIhadtogotocarrysomeofthearcels.Wewalkedthroughtheflaringstreets,jostledbydrunkenmenandbargainingwomen,amidthecursesoflabourers,theshrilllitaniesofsho-boyswhostoodonguardbythebarrelsofigs&aos;cheeks,thenasalchantingofstreet-singers,whosangacome-all-youaboutO&aos;DonovanRossa,oraballadaboutthetroublesinournativeland.Thesenoisesconvergedinasinglesensationoflifeforme:IimaginedthatIboremychalicesafelythroughathrongoffoes.HernamesrangtomylisatmomentsinstrangerayersandraiseswhichImyselfdidnotunderstand.Myeyeswereoftenfulloftears(Icouldnottellwhy)andattimesafloodfrommyheartseemedtoouritselfoutintomybosom.Ithoughtlittleofthefuture.IdidnotknowwhetherIwouldeverseaktoherornotor,ifIsoketoher,howIcouldtellherofmyconfusedadoration.Butmybodywaslikeaharandherwordsandgestureswerelikefingersrunninguonthewires.
OneeveningIwentintothebackdrawing-roominwhichtheriesthaddied.Itwasadarkrainyeveningandtherewasnosoundinthehouse.ThroughoneofthebrokenanesIheardtherainimingeuontheearth,thefineincessantneedlesofwaterlayinginthesoddenbeds.Somedistantlamorlightedwindowgleamedbelowme.IwasthankfulthatIcouldseesolittle.Allmysensesseemedtodesiretoveilthemselvesand,feelingthatIwasabouttoslifromthem,Iressedthealmsofmyhandstogetheruntiltheytrembled,murmuring:&aos;Olove!Olove!&aos;manytimes.
Atlastshesoketome.WhensheaddressedthefirstwordstomeIwassoconfusedthatIdidnotknowwhattoanswer.SheaskedmewasIgoingtoAraby.IforgotwhetherIansweredyesorno.Itwouldbeaslendidbazaar;shesaidshewouldlovetogo.
"Andwhycan&aos;tyou?
"Iasked.
Whileshesokesheturnedasilverbraceletroundandroundherwrist.Shecouldnotgo,shesaid,becausetherewouldbearetreatthatweekinherconvent.Herbrotherandtwootherboyswerefightingfortheircas,andIwasaloneattherailings.Sheheldoneofthesikes,bowingherheadtowardsme.Thelightfromthelamoositeourdoorcaughtthewhitecurveofherneck,lituherhairthatrestedthereand,falling,lituthehanduontherailing.Itfelloveronesideofherdressandcaughtthewhiteborderofaetticoat,justvisibleasshestoodatease.
"It&aos;swellforyou,
"shesaid.
"IfIgo,
"Isaid,
"Iwillbringyousomething.
"
Whatinnumerablefollieslaidwastemywakingandsleeingthoughtsafterthatevening!Iwishedtoannihilatethetediousinterveningdays.Ichafedagainsttheworkofschool.AtnightinmybedroomandbydayintheclassroomherimagecamebetweenmeandtheageIstrovetoread.ThesyllablesofthewordArabywerecalledtomethroughthesilenceinwhichmysoulluxuriatedandcastanEasternenchantmentoverme.IaskedforleavetogotothebazaaronSaturdaynight.Myauntwassurrised,andhoeditwasnotsomeFreemasonaffair.Iansweredfewquestionsinclass.Iwatchedmymaster&aos;sfaceassfromamiabilitytosternness;hehoedIwasnotbeginningtoidle.Icouldnotcallmywanderingthoughtstogether.Ihadhardlyanyatiencewiththeseriousworkoflifewhich,nowthatitstoodbetweenmeandmydesire,seemedtomechild&aos;slay,uglymonotonouschild&aos;slay.
OnSaturdaymorningIremindedmyunclethatIwishedtogotothebazaarintheevening.Hewasfussingatthehallstand,lookingforthehat-brush,andansweredmecurtly:
"Yes,boy,Iknow.
"
AshewasinthehallIcouldnotgointothefrontarlourandlieatthewindow.Ifeltthehouseinbadhumourandwalkedslowlytowardstheschool.Theairwasitilesslyrawandalreadymyheartmisgaveme.
WhenIcamehometodinnermyunclehadnotyetbeenhome.Stillitwasearly.Isatstaringattheclockforsometimeand,whenitstickingbegantoirritateme,Ilefttheroom.Imountedthestaircaseandgainedtheuerartofthehouse.Thehigh,cold,emty,gloomyroomsliberatedmeandIwentfromroomtoroomsinging.FromthefrontwindowIsawmycomanionslayingbelowinthestreet.Theircriesreachedmeweakenedandindistinctand,leaningmyforeheadagainstthecoolglass,Ilookedoveratthedarkhousewhereshelived.Imayhavestoodthereforanhour,seeingnothingbutthebrown-cladfigurecastbymyimagination,toucheddiscreetlybythelamlightatthecurvedneck,atthehanduontherailingsandattheborderbelowthedress.
WhenIcamedownstairsagainIfoundMrsMercersittingatthefire.Shewasanold,garrulouswoman,aawnbroker&aos;swidow,whocollectedusedstamsforsomeiousurose.Ihadtoendurethegossiofthetea-table.Themealwasrolongedbeyondanhourandstillmyuncledidnotcome.MrsMercerstoodutogo:shewassorryshecouldn&aos;twaitanylonger,butitwasaftereighto&aos;clockandsedidnotliketobeoutlate,asthenightairwasbadforher.WhenshehadgoneIbegantowalkuanddowntheroom,clenchingmyfists.Myauntsaid:
"I&aos;mafraidyoumayutoffyourbazaarforthisnightofOurLord.
"
Atnineo&aos;clockIheardmyuncle&aos;slatchkeyinthehalldoor.Iheardhimtalkingtohimselfandheardthehallstandrockingwhenithadreceivedtheweightofhisovercoat.Icouldinterretthesesigns.WhenhewasmidwaythroughhisdinnerIaskedhimtogivemethemoneytogotothebazaar.Hehadforgotten.
"Theeoleareinbedandaftertheirfirstsleenow,
"hesaid.
