by Sam Selvon
One evening the housing delegation descend on number 13A to see Battersby. Everybody was there except poor Harry, who was serving time for being in possession of. Old Bat get the wire long before that they coming, run out to a few estate agents and collect some housing lists, and was sitting down at the table looking them over when the boys come.
Fitz was the first to talk. ‘All right, everything turn old mask, and I want that three pounds ten back that I give you. I don’t want it later, I don’t want it tomorrow, I didn’t even want it yesterday. When I want it is now RIGHT NOW.’
Teena did make Fitz memorise that speech word for word before he left home and Fitz say them as soon as he reach before he forget.
As for Sylvester, now that the weather getting sunny he start up this knocking-wood-and-kissing-cross lark, and he tap the table, make the sign of the cross with his two forefingers, and swear that is trouble in town if he don’t get his money back.
‘What’s the matter with you boys?’ Bat say, sitting there surrounded by these housing lists, and a notebook as if he taking down notes. ‘What’s all the excitement about?’
‘You know Bat, you know,’ Nobby say. ‘Don’t pretend.’
‘We should of never trust you in the first place,’ Alfy say. Alfy holding his camera like a weapon to crack Battersby head.
‘Give Battersby a chance to explain,’ Gallows say. Gallows was trying in desperation to hold things together: this chance might never come to him again as long as he live.
‘I don’t know what want explaining,’ Bat bluff. ‘What it is you fellars mourning about?’
‘The money we give you for the house,’ Nobby say. ‘We want it back.’
‘Well you fellars really stupid!’ Bat shake the lists as if they was cheques.
‘If you mean that in the past tense,’ Alfy say, ‘I agree with you. But we see the light.’
‘Listen, what you fellars think, that I thief your money or something?’
‘We don’t want to go down into details,’ Nobby say. ‘All we want is we money back. Right?’
‘If you don’t believe me, perhaps you believe what the house agent say.’ Bat pick up a list and begin to read: ‘Do not miss this golden opportunity. For only one hundred pounds deposit, you can be the owner of a freehold, semi-detached property in the heart of Notting Hill. Four reception rooms, seven bedrooms, two kitchens, two baths.’
‘It have a basement?’ Gallows ask.
‘Sure it have a basement,’ Bat say. ‘And listen to this other one: “Coloured clients are the ones we want to cater for. We have a large selection of highly-residential houses in all parts of the country, with deposits as low as £95. Our mortgage facilities will tie everything up nicely for you.” You fellars think I been sleeping?’ Bat begin to warm up as he see some flicker of doubt on their faces. ‘Day after day I been going to the housing agents. I wear out my shoes walking. I even been to see a place up in Cricklewood, but it have dry-rot.’
‘How far we from that hundred pound deposit?’ Fitz ask.
‘We not far,’ Bat say. ‘If you fellars make a sort of last-minute push, before next winter we move into our own house.’
‘The only push I pushing,’ Nobby say, ‘is to push you for my money. Jean say up to now you ain’t give she a cent. How about that? Where you keeping the money? Show me it. Show me pound notes and ten shilling notes and silver, Queen’s silver.’
Bat rub his face like in disgust. ‘What happen to this man at all? You ain’t hear about the excursion?’
‘What that have to do with it?’ Nobby ask.
‘You think it don’t cost money to arrange a excursion? You think is like back home where you just get some old bus and carry people to Maracas Bay to bathe in the sea?’
‘So what you trying to say?’ Alfy ask, though he suspect already.
‘What I trying to say is that the money invest,’ Bat say. ‘The money invest in the excursion to Hamdon Court.’
‘Who give you permission to invest my money mister?’ Syl ask.
‘All monies that come into the pool is for the house,’ Bat say. ‘In any case, what you making noise for? We going to make a lot of money off the excursion, and afterwards if you all ain’t satisfy I give all of you your money back.’
‘I don’t think you hear what I say, Bat.’ Fitz talk carefully, trying himself to remember what he say. ‘Now for now. Cash on the nail.’
‘I will wait until afterwards for mine,’ Gallows say, as if he put in the lion share, and this time he ain’t contribute a ha’penny.
‘Poor was right not to come in from the beginning,’ Nobby say.
‘But he should of go to court and talk up for Harry Banjo.’ Fitz say.
‘Yes,’ Syl agree, ‘they bust three months in Harry arse, and all because of Poor.’
‘That is the thing I trying to tell you fellars,’ Bat say, and the old brain racing as a idea come to him. ‘I mean, we all feel sorry for Harry. As for me, I can’t tell you how much I miss him. That is one Jamaican that by blood take. Well now, who had the idea in the first place? Ain’t it was Harry? Well now, poor Harry serving time, and you mean to say we going to let him down? You know what is the first thing he will say? He will say, “You could never trust them Trinidadians, they have no ambition.” And he would be right! Look how you fellars behaving, as if I is a criminal or something, when all I do is invest the money to make more. How long you know me, Fitz?’
‘About five years,’ Fitz say.
‘And you Nobby?’
‘Ever since I come to Brixton.’
‘And you Syl?’
‘Donkey years.’
‘Well I mean. I don’t have to ask Alfy and Gallows. And you all won’t trust me? Even until after the excursion?’
Bat haul out a pack of cigarettes. ‘Smoke man,’ he invite, passing it around, ‘we got to relax sometimes. I think I might even have a end left over from a bottle of rum what a friend bring for me from Trinidad.’ And he get up and went in the cupboard and bring it out.
‘You think you should encourage them?’ Gallows ask anxiously.
‘Well we almost have enough now,’ Bat say.
As if they reluctant to let him off so easy, the boys tackle the end of rum that Bat produce. They was just getting mellow and thinking about a game of rummy when they hear a scratching at the door, and as if a little dog whimpering.
‘Jesus Christ Nobby,’ Bat say, ‘you ain’t get rid of that dog yet?’
‘Yes,’ Nobby say.
‘And who is that outside scratching and barking?’
‘That is another one.’
‘Another one! You get another one?’
‘Yes man,’ Nobby as if he embarrass, ‘and the damn thing following me all about.’
* * *
* * *
The episode of how Nobby get that dog could pass time before we go on the excursion to Hamdon Court. Nobby was living a few houses from number 13A, and he had a landlady with a bitch what make one set of pups, and she come to Nobby room one morning to give him one.
‘Mr de Nobriga,’ she say, ‘here is a pup for you. I know how fond you are of Bessy, and I’m sure you’ll take good care of it.’
Now Nobby had a habit, every time he see Bessy, he patting her on the head and remarking what a wonderful animal. And he even went so far as to take Bessy for a walk in the park one morning when the landlady was busy, though he make sure none of the boys see him. But the only reason why Nobby getting on like that, is because he want to keep on good terms with her. You know the old saying, Love me, love my dog. And Nobby wasn’t any different than all the West Indians in this country what catch their royal arse to get a place to live, and have to keep the landlords and landladies in a friendly mood else they get notice.
Because the truth is Nobby ain’t want no dog. Back home in th
e West Indies it have a kind of dog they does call them pot-hounds, because the only time they around is when a pot on the fire and food cooking. Another kind name hat-rack, because they so thin and cadaverous you could hang a hat on any one of the protruding bones. But them ain’t the only canine specimens it have, and you mustn’t feel that the people down there don’t like animals. The only thing is, Dog is Dog and Man is Man, and never the twain shall meet in them islands as they meet in Brit’n. You give a dog a bone and that is that, and if food left over after Man eat, Dog get it. None of this fancy steak lark, or taking the dog to a shop where they trim it and manicure the nails and put on clothes to keep it warm in winter.
So Nobby shake his head sadly, cogitating for a few seconds, and say, ‘Mrs Feltin, if Bessy make that pup, he deserve a real good master who could bring him up like a stalwart.’
‘It is a bitch,’ Mrs Feltin say.
‘That make it worse,’ Nobby say. ‘I mean, she have to be brought up like a lady. I can’t keep her here in this one room where I have to live.’
‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Feltin say. ‘She can sleep under the stairs in the basement. You always said you wanted a dog.’
That was true. Men does have a way of talking big when they feel it wouldn’t have any outcome, and one day Nobby went so far as to say: ‘Mrs Feltin, don’t forget, wherever I am, the day Bessy have young ones you must give one to me.’
When you talk like that to a Englisher he would give you his last shilling—provided he have enough Lassie and Kit-e-Kat, of course.
Nobby watch the puppy wrap up in a white sheet, and Mrs Feltin holding it like a new-born baby.
‘You ain’t have a male one?’ he ask hopefully.
‘No,’ the landlady say, ‘I have given them all away. Don’t you want it?’
Well Nobby know that if he say No, he might as well start to look for another place to live. But he still hedging.
‘How about if you keep it for me, Mrs Feltin, and give me when it get big?’
‘It’s big enough now,’ Mrs Feltin say, ‘and besides, it won’t know you for its master then.’
‘Yes, I didn’t think about that.’ Nobby brain ticking like a clock for excuses. ‘But how about feeding and so on?’
‘Oh, just a little piece of steak, I’m sure she hasn’t a big appetite yet.’
Nobby wince when he hear that: stewing meat is the highest he ever aspire to treat himself with, except for an occasional boiler on a Sunday. Then he had to say quickly, as he notice the suspicion on Mrs Feltin face: ‘All right, thank you very much.’
And he take the pup from her and close the door.
‘Look what hell I put myself in for,’ he say to himself. ‘What to do now? Give it away? Take a ride on the underground and leave it by High Barnet or Roding Valley or one of them places with strange sounding names?’
In the end he had was to put some milk in a saucer and leave it in the corner for the puppy before going to work.
As luck would have it, that same evening the boys drop around for some cards, and when they see the pup they start to give Nobby hell.
‘You keeping a managery now, old man?’
‘You could train it for the tracks boy, and make a lot of money.’
‘What you going to call it?’
‘I ain’t keeping it long enough to give it a name,’ Nobby say. ‘Anybody want it?’
This time so the puppy looking at all of them as if they is criminals, and it only going by the door and sniffing as if it want to get away from this evil company.
‘Why you don’t dump it in the Serpentine?’ Bat say.
‘Or send it for vivisection and get a few bob,’ Alfy say.
‘You fellars too malicious,’ Nobby say, though in truth all them is ideas that going through his mind, only he don’t want to do anything too drastic.
‘You really want to get rid of it?’ Syl say. ‘Put it in a paper bag and give me when I going, and I go dump it somewhere far from here.’
Nobby do that, and Syl take the puppy away and leave it quite down by Croydon.
Seven o’clock next morning, when Nobby turning to catch a last fifteen minutes sleep before getting up to dress for work, he hear a yelping and a scratching at the door. When he go, he see the puppy.
Nobby haul it inside and put some bread and milk in a saucer, wondering about ways and means of getting rid of the dog.
When he was leaving the house to go to work he meet Mrs Feltin. ‘Good morning,’ she say, ‘how is the puppy? What do you call her?’
‘Am—er—Flossie,’ Nobby say.
‘That’s a nice name.’ Mrs Feltin approve. ‘If you leave the money with me, I could get some nice steak for her lunch while you’re at work.’
Nobby had to fork out three shillings and sixpence for steak for Flossie, and later had to buy a piece of neck-of-lamb for his own dinner.
Well, the day he get the puppy was a Monday, and the whole week look like it going by, and Nobby low in pocket buying steak for Flossie, and he getting tired of looking after the dog.
On the Friday, he was moaning at work about the situation when an English ‘mate’ say: ‘My missus is looking for a bitch. I’ll take Flossie off you.’
Now that a solution was at hand Nobby start to do some rapid cogitation. ‘That bitch is from good stock,’ he say. ‘The mother is pure Alsatian and the father is a full-blooded fox terrier. I wasn’t thinking so much of giving away as selling.’
‘Give you ten bob,’ the Englisher say.
‘What about a pound?’ Nobby say, and add, as he see the fellar was about to agree, ‘or a guinea. Make it a guinea and call it a deal.’
‘That’s a lot of money,’ the Englisher say.
‘Think of the dog you getting,’ Nobby say.
‘All right,’ the Englisher say, ‘I’ll come with you after work and get it.’
Nobby make the fellar wait by the station in the evening, and he went home to collect Flossie. But as luck would have it, just as he was going out, who he should meet but Mrs Feltin!
‘Where are you taking Flossie?’ she ask.
‘To the vet,’ Nobby say, thinking fast. ‘It look as if she ailing, and I want to make sure it is nothing serious.’
‘Quite right,’ Mrs Feltin say.
Nobby hurry to the station, and hand Flossie over to the fellar.
‘Looks like a mongrel to me,’ the Englisher observe.
‘No, it is a little Hennessy,’ Nobby say.
‘Ten bob,’ the Englisher say.
‘All right,’ Nobby say, ‘you have a real bargain there.’ If the Englisher did say two and six he would of agreed.
The fellar give Nobby ten bob and went away with Flossie.
Nobby went in the pub for a pint of beer and to figure out what to tell Mrs Feltin.
When he get back home, he knock at her door.
‘What is it, Mr de Nobridga?’ Mrs Feltin say, alarmed by the look on his face.
‘Mrs Feltin,’ Nobby say, shaking his head like a man in a daze, ‘fate has struck me a cruel blow. Something terrible has happen.’
Mrs Feltin held her breath. ‘Not Flossie?’ she whisper hoarsely.
‘Yes. She pass away during the operation at the vet.’
‘What was wrong with her?’
‘I not so sure. The vet call a big name for the sickness. And I only had she for a few days.’
‘What a tragic thing to happen,’ Mrs Feltin say, and it look as if she want to cry.
Nobby begin to warm up. ‘All my friends admire that little bitch, and she and me was coming good friends. If I had some land in England, I bury her on it myself. I was just thinking how that dog would of gone in the films like another Lassie. Poor Flossie. She gone to rest in the Happy Hunting Ground for sure.’
‘Don’t take it so hard
,’ Mrs Feltin say, wiping a tear herself.
‘I can’t tell you how I feel,’ Nobby say, lighting a cigarette quick so the smoke could get in his eyes.
‘I wish there was something I could do,’ Mrs Feltin say. And then she brighten up a little. ‘Wait a minute. There is something. I am getting back one of the pups from my brother—his landlady doesn’t like to have animals in the house. You shall have it. No no, it’s quite all right, don’t thank me. I know an animal lover when I see one.’
* * *
* * *
You see, this whole plan to buy a house was doom to turn old mask from the very beginning. Look at all these dreamers, and imagine that characters like these could get serious. I mean, in a way, some of them really have hopes. Harry Banjo dead serious; Fitz, with Teena to jockey him and a fresh picc’n every year, hoping to get a decent place; and Gallows have the idea to occupy him and fill up a big space in his mind. But as for Bat, all he see is a chance to make some money. True, it wasn’t frozen capital, but what he bother about? If he had a few quid to spend, he spend it, and hope that by the time reckoning come, something else turn up to keep him coasting, like the way he put the boys off telling them about the excursion. And for Nobby and Syl well, the odd fiver here or there don’t matter so much, not that they don’t intend to get it back, mark you, from the first suspicious sign, as you see for yourself.
And another thing was the summer. If to say they had let the summer pass and then begin to save, it might have stood a chance, as in the cold months have less temptations. But Bat come up with this scheme a few weeks before the sun start to shine and flowers and things come out to greet the summer. No wonder them boys want their money back! Because now is the time when fellars have to stretch their legs and look around for birds, and smoke and drink and lay down in the sun and enjoy the pleasures of life.
