Setting Descriptions-Our Brooklyn Home
Mam lies in bed with her face to the wall after Margaret died. I have to take care of the twins and Malachy, me brother. The twins bein' in diapers and all are quite hard to handle. They fuss and cry all the time in our one room apartment in Brooklyn. Down the hall Mrs. Liebowitz comes and brings us food to eat. She helps out with the twins and changin' their diapers. The house is a mess. The beds are unmade and there is stale bread on the floor. The wood is covered in dirt as well as the twins. Together they play on the floor eatin' their bread out of a towel. Me brother and I are tryin' our best to keep the twins from cryin' People from up stairs came by and left some soup for us. The woman said to get some bowls but I did not know what bowls were. Me mam said to use cups instead. She is ill. Instead of singin' she's weepin' for me sister that just died.
I opened the cupboard to get four jam jars that we us for cups I filled them full with the soup for me brothers and I. I had never tasted such as wonderful taste in my life. It smelled good too. It smelled better than the pigs head that we had for Christmas-and having that was a treat. We sat on the dirty wood floor all huddled together in the one room apartment. Me mam still in bed watching us eat. In the background you could hear her weeping and moaning. She lay her head against the brick wall and cry to no end. The house was cool and we covered ourselves with blankets from the bed.
The twins fussed for more soup until all of it was gone. The jam jars just left sittin' on the floor from where we ate. You could hear the families through the wall eatin' together and laughin'. I could smell the food from the other apartments come into ours. The smell made me hungry. My tummy ached for more food-for the soup was gone. With the twins crying for more food, there was nothing to do, but wait till mam was feeling well.
We lay awake in the bed with unwashed sheets and dirty blankets. Together we huddle to keep warm. The cool winter air from Brooklyn never stops blowin'. We all wait for a miracle, then we find out from me Dad we're movin' back to Ireland.