The Housing Lark

by Sam Selvon

But Fitz say, ‘What I want to know is if Harry Banjo could sing calypso.’

  Harry settle that point by beginning to sing, after Bat call for silence from everybody. To tell the truth, Harry wasn’t so bad. I mean, them kind of singing that you hear these days, you could rate Harry. He sing four songs. He sing Old Lady You Mashing My Toe, Stone-cold Dead in the Market, The Weatherman Lying, and he sing one that he make up himself, call Brit’n, Lovely Brit’n.

  But when they do the playback, Gallows and Nobby was whispering in the background for one of the numbers, and they had was to record that one again.

  ‘All you like children,’ Bat say. ‘You know the man doing a recording. Well all right, you can’t keep quiet until he finish?’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ Gallows say, ‘it was Nobby who saying he could sing better than Harry.’

  On that Harry push the mike close to Nobby and hand him the banjo. ‘Here, sing,’ he say, but Nobby back down, saying that wasn’t what he was saying at all, that what he was saying was Harry should of electrify the banjo.

  ‘And further more,’ Nobby went on, ‘these days all kinds of fellars singing shit and playing guitar, you think a black man would stand a chance?’

  ‘That’s the reason none of you getting any place,’ Harry say. ‘You all just sit down on your arse and moan and wonder. You just wait till I sign up a contract, you will have to call me Mister then.’

  ‘You right boy Harry,’ Jean side with him. ‘These fellars is a set of scallywags, all they could do is waste time, gamble, and chase women. They ain’t have no ambition.’

  Well seeing the bottle of rum was finish, and the discussion, everybody get up to go. Jean and Matilda went back upstairs.

  Hear Bat at the door, to the boys, ‘Keep thinking about the house. No more living in cramp-up room paying exorbited rent. That will help to keep you out of temptation.’

  ‘Don’t worry Bat,’ Gallows say, ‘I will watch out for who squandering money and report them. Drop them out of the scheme if they can’t give up some vices for a house to live in! And don’t forget I bags the basement, eh?’

  When only Bat and Harry was left, Bat say, ‘I don’t know, these fellars as if they not so serious about this thing at all.’

  Harry say, ‘We will wait and see. Give it a chance. How much so you think we going to need for a deposit?’

  ‘About two-three hundred.’

  Harry whistle. ‘That is a lot of money.’

  ‘I was surprised to see Fitz,’ Bat say.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He have a wife there who don’t let him go out at all.’

  ‘I didn’t know he was married.’

  Bat chuckle. ‘Was a big thing. Let me give you the ballad . . .’

  * * *

  * * *

  Boy, (Bat telling Harry) is a true saying that if your mouth big, your head small. Because the way Fitz used to get on about women, you feel that he would be the last man in the world to get married. We used to go round by Nobby to play a little rummy, you see, and coast a few beers and old-talk and thing. And you should hear Fitz when we talking about birds.

  ‘Boy, woman! Not me! They too malicious!’

  ‘How you mean they malicious?’ Nobby say, because although everybody accustom to hearing this same tune from Fitz, Nobby like to crank him up.

  ‘Well you know what I mean. The thing is, you have to know how to treat them. I am a professor of womanology, boy. If I had five little fingers, I could wrap them around all of them.’

  ‘Well look how Alfy girl going around with another fellar,’ Nobby say, giving him a little push after the crank. ‘What you would do, if you was in his place?’

  ‘Do?’ Fitz shake the cards in his hand like a caveman shaking a club. ‘I beat she like a snake. All woman want is blows to keep them quiet. One time I was going around with a thing from Croydon, and she wanted to married me. I say, “Look here, girl, don’t mention that word again, don’t even think it in your head, where I can’t see or hear!” She say, “You can’t stop me from thinking.” I say, “No, but I could damage your thinking-box!” And with that I ups and give she ONE clout behind she head, and I must have knock the word clean out, because she never mention married again.’

  ‘Is all right with the girls back home,’ Alfy say, but this bird is English.’

  ‘So what?’ Fitz say, ‘all of them the same.’

  ‘Woman does always cause trouble,’ Nobby say, stoking fire to keep Fitz going. ‘I mean, look how we easy, not a worry in the world. We playing a little rummy, we have some bitter to drink, and it have some peas and rice in the pot if anybody want.’

  ‘That is life,’ Fitz say. ‘But even if it had woman here, so what? Who is them? Take me. If I had a wife here, now, and she nudging me and saying, “Time to go home, Fitz,” or “Don’t drink so much beer, Fitz,” you know what I do? I only look at her, that’s all. Just look.’

  And Fitz put down his cards and look at Nobby as how he would of look at his wife if he had one. ‘I wouldn’t have to say a word, I wouldn’t have to make a move. In fact,’ and here he pick up his cards again, ‘the situation would never arise!’

  And that was the way the talk used to go whenever woman was the topic, and all of we used to think that Fitz would rather dead than get married.

  Well papa, things was going along like that until bam! Nobby cousin Teena, who was living in Willesden, get put out and had to come and stay by him.

  ‘Look at my crosses,’ Nobby moaning to the boys.

  And hear Fitz: ‘Throw she out! Why she had to come by you? She couldn’t get a room somewhere else?’

  ‘All good things come to an end,’ Alfy say.

  ‘I know she going and make misery,’ Nobby say ‘she always getting on like a boss and want me to do this and do that.’

  ‘Look at him!’ Fitz say. ‘You must be like me. Treat them like the old Bogart, rough and tough.’

  Well in truth and in fact, Teena really begin to stick like a leech behind poor Nobby from the time she come. Everytime we having a session of cards she want to break the party up.

  This time so, hear Fitz: ‘Woman, you could tell Nobby what you want, but don’t interfere with me at all at all, else is big trouble in this room.’

  And listen to Teena: ‘I don’t like the company you keeping, Nobby, these fellars only encouraging you to idle.’

  And poor Nobby: ‘Yes Teena, no Teena, all right Teena.’

  One evening we just settling down to a nice little session when she come in.

  ‘Nobby!’ she say, ‘you gambling? That is all you have to do in your spare time?’

  ‘We just having a little rummy, Teen,’ Nobby say.

  ‘This kind of thing got to stop!’ she say. ‘I tell you gambling is a vice. And who buy all that beer?’

  But hear Fitz! ‘Woman, why the hell you don’t leave we men alone and go and take a bath or something?’

  ‘You better stop encouraging my cousin in evil ways,’ Teena tell him. ‘You look like the worse of the lot.’

  Well you should know that we had to change the venue for the rummy, and we begin to go round by Alfy room to play. You could imagine how Fitz getting on now. He only holding forth on the evils of woman, and saying that none of them in this world could ever treat him like how Teena treating Nobby, and if he was Nobby he would ups one day and give she two-three cuff between she eyes, or a high fall.

  A-a! Gradually my boy begin to simmer down, until a time come when he change key.

  One day he say, ‘This Teena is a big joker, oui.’

  Another day he say, ‘I notice Teena have a nice figure you know, she does walk like a wave moving in deep water.’

  And the next thing you know, one evening we spot him and Teena coasting around Piccadilly Circus, holding hands! You know the excuse he give? He say that Teena don’t
know Londontown at all, and he showing her the high spots!

  Well about two weeks after that bam! Fitz went and get married to Teena! Wonders will never cease, I tell you, I for one would have bet a hundred pounds Fitz would never get stick.

  Anyway, a few evenings after we went round by Fitz carrying some beer and two new packs of cards for a session. When we get there, we find Teena sewing and Fitz washing pot and pan in the sink.

  ‘I ain’t feeling too good tonight, boys,’ he say, ‘I have a bad headache, I can’t play.’

  A few nights later we went back again. This time Fitz scrubbing the floor. And hear him as he give us a worm’s eye look: ‘I really busy tonight, boys. It look as if you all always choosing the wrong time.’

  It look so in truth! Because every time we go by Fitz for a game, he either scrubbing or washing or sweeping. And all this time, Teena only looking at we, ain’t saying a word, just rocking in a rocking chair and keeping an eye on Fitz to make sure he don’t sweep no dust under the carpet.

  He even stop going out: we can’t see him anywhere at all. Next thing you know, somebody spot Fitz in the park pushing pram!

  And today he have three picc’ns, and is a wonder we see him here tonight, Teena must of heard we planning to buy a house and send him to find out what happening.

  * * *

  * * *

  That was the ballad that Bat give Harry about Fitz, killing himself with laugh as he say it. After that Harry went out somewhere—the few drinks sweeten him up and he thought he might go round by a friend he had in Somerleyton Road.

  Bat sit down alone by the table thinking. When you get accustom to living by yourself, it hard to have somebody with you. True Harry was paying more rent than he should without knowing anything. But many times Bat wish he was still alone. In one dream period he even wonder what would happen if Harry find out about the Aladdin lamps on the wallpaper, and want to rub them and try out his luck. It even reach a stage where he looking on the basement room with affection. Now that he was sharing it, it didn’t look so bad, a dash of paint here, a few nails there, some plaster on the ceiling, and it might look as good as any room that the boys living in. After all, he have his own entrance, don’t mind them stinking dustbin in the way. To have your own entrance was a great thing, you could bring any amount of birds in without anybody else in the house knowing your business. He might even number it 13A, as he see some houses do, and then the postman would bring letters direct to him.

  But with the plan to buy a house, at last it look as if he had something constructive in mind. He didn’t know how things would work out, but if the boys get serious, you never can tell, maybe they really get a mansion to live in. And also with all the joking, if Harry lucky and some of them show business people like his voice, who could tell what and what mightn’t happen?

  Is so life was, you had to take chances, and one day your luck might turn. And if you yourself ain’t have anything to offer, it good to stick with fellars like Harry, and Alfy and Syl and the rest of the boys. All of we can’t be blight, Bat think, out of six seven fellars, one bound to be lucky, something good bound to happen to one of we. Bat ain’t care who it happen to, as long as he around to share in the good fortune.

  * * *

  * * *

  Is a funny thing, but men have a lot of thoughts and ideas what sleeping inside and never get a chance to come out. If for instance you notice a fellar who quiet and easy with a job that bringing him in about ten quid a week, you put a hundred pounds in his hand and you will see a different man. You might look at this fellar and say he ain’t have no ambition, he look so satisfy with this ten quid a week. And bam! you put this hundred quid in his hand, and all them thoughts and ideas what was sleeping yawn and come wide awake. Suddenly this same fellar realise he want a car, or a yacht, or a platinum blonde. Mark you, is not the money what create these ideas: he had them all the time, but only now they getting a chance to breathe. Things will always change for a man if he get a break. It ain’t in reality have anything like a rut: if a fellar in a rut break his hand, suddenly he thinking new thoughts, he wondering what he would do if he have to go hospital and they cut off his hand: he imagining himself doing everything with one hand: is as if he facing life for the first time.

  When Gallows left number 13A (let we number Battersby basement for him, he will feel good) he walk away as if he drifting on a cloud. As if the plan to buy a house make a new man of him. In all his life, Gallows never had a plan, never had ideas about the future.

  Gallows reach England by accident. In Port of Spain harbour one night, where he was a stevedore, he was down in the bottom of a ship which was loading up. One of the crates what had rum in it fall down and break open and rum start flowing all about. Fellars gone mad looking for old tins and cups or anything that wouldn’t leak: Gallows find a bucket and full it up with rum.

  That is all Gallows remember until he wake up about a day after. He hearing a noise thum, thum, thum and he thought he had a heavy headache until he realise it was a engine. What engine? Suddenly Gallows jump up from where he was laying down between two crates, wondering where he was and what the arse happening? They charge him for stowing away when the ship reach Plymouth, and he serve a month and afterwards drift up to Londontown, hungry and destitute. He get in with a big, blowsy thing from Scandinavia who had all she front teeth missing. Every time she talk, she putting she hand up to her mouth to hide the space, as if fingers could substitute for teeth. And she was always surprise at how many coloured people in London.

  You could imagine this big, blowsy thing, putting she hand up to her mouth, and saying with a lisp, ‘So many black ones!’ as she walking in Oxford Street.

  Nevertheless, if it wasn’t for this dilapidated sleeper, Gallows would of catch his royal arse, because he didn’t have no work, (a), and he didn’t have no place to live, (b), and he didn’t know nobody in the city, (c).

  The sleeper had a room in one of them big, posh houses in Hampstead where she was working as a maid. Gallows used to hide in this room, and she used to bring food for him. As long as Gallows belly full and he had a place to sleep, he didn’t think about tomorrow. Then the lady of the house catch them one day, and out! Gallows find himself adrift in Londontown. He make his way down to Brixton with the last two and six he had. Somehow he figure out that that was the safest district to go to, that he bound to meet some fellow countryman who would ease up the situation, give him some shelter and a meal.

  And as luck would have it, a Jamaican fellar what had a club give him work to clean it out, and say he could sleep in the club for a couple of nights until he get a place. It was in this same club that he get to meet the other boys, because he was always hanging around. Gallows was the sort of fellar who had to attach himself to other men. Left on his own, he didn’t know what to do. If a fellar tell Gallows come and go up the road for a walk, he going. If a fellar say come and go and look for woman, Gallows going. As if, by himself, he can’t exist, life too big for him to tackle, he can’t get any ideas, he can’t do anything, he can’t plan what he going to do tomorrow.

  All day long he liming around the Brixton market looking for somebody he know, somebody who might have an idea of what to do with so much of time, how to occupy one day until a next day come.

  The loss of the fiver was a good thing in a way, as he had something to do looking for it. But the biggest thing that ever happen to Gallows, bigger even than God, was this idea that the boys come up with to buy a house. To Gallows, if a man have a house he establish his right to live, and he didn’t mind even if he had a tenth of a share, or a twentieth for that matter, he would still feel he is the sole owner.

  As the days go by and the idea take possession of him, he get to believe that the whole thing was his idea, and that if he don’t supervise the show, nothing would happen. Between looking for the fiver and thinking about the house Gallows time was fully occupied. If it wasn’
t one it was the other. In fact, scouring the streets in the everlasting quest, sometimes his mind drift to mansions and bungalows and cottages, and he had to go back and start to search again.

  The biggest kicks was when he passing some of them estate agents office, and it have photos of houses for sale in the window, and some heavy prices like twenty and thirty thousand pounds. Gallows stand up there jingling a few coppers in his pocket as if he had a million or so to spare, and wondering what to do with it.

  The first day he go into a office, the agent tell him, ‘Frankly, none of my clients desire to sell their property to coloured people. I’m sorry.’

  But that was no hurdle for Gallows. He went to another one, and hear him this time: ‘H’mm. Not so bad. How much you say? Five thousand? I was really looking for a place for about twenty or so. What about up in Hampstead? Or a Mayfair property?’

  And so the dream went on. Standing on the pavement, chuckling to himself, he talk to the notices in the window.

  And hear him talking to his friends: ‘I going to buy a house, you know.’

  ‘In truth boy?’

  ‘Yes man.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Well I not in any great hurry. I want to get one in a good locality, where it ain’t have so many spades.’

  ‘I never thought you had money, Gallows.’

  ‘Well, I might bring in one or two fellars to share with me, if I can’t raise enough.’

  Meantime he ain’t doing one bloody thing about saving, or anything concrete to make the dream come true. One Saturday afternoon, as he think about it, he decide he better do something else Battersby might drop him out of the scheme. He know the boys does be liming regularly every Saturday around the market, so he went out to spy. First fellar he spot is Alfy. Alfy leaning on a wall, with a camera strap on his shoulder. One time a Englisher tell Alfy how he was walking down the road and a accident happen with two bus and lucky thing he had a camera and he take a snap of it, and sell it for plenty money to the newspapers.