The Busconductor Hines

by James Kelman

  He stopped himself from rolling another cigarette. If this was a different occasion altogether he might have decided to stop forever. The atmosphere was thick with smoke, stifling. No windows open, the condensation dripping down the walls. Yet if anybody was in a position to get them opened surely he was, the life and soul of the affair, the bone of contention, the one of whom it might be said etc., that the present dispute and so on.

  Once upon a time he was ejected from a Branch Meeting for applying the term Shite to a Chairman’s summing up. That kind of thing should be beyond belief. The incident occurred midway through his second stint in the job. What a shambles. It was his own fault for having allowed himself to be dragged along by Reilly. And very recently Colin Brown asked him to come back again because things were getting better. But Hines declined, he wont return till muffins are served. He doesnt have the time to spend. It may seem as if he is better than others by not doing so. Occasionally he does see himself as better while at other times he sees himself as worse. He simply doesnt have the time. He requires to move. Other people apparently do not require to move. Maybe it is hypocrisy alone keeps them from it. Other arguments arent good. Things that are wrong are seen to be wrong when eyes are not shut. And eyes cannot be shut when people are working otherwise buses would crash and conductors would trip over outstretched feet.

  He stopped himself from rolling another cigarette. Heh Sammy! fancy a bit of air? hell of a smoky in here . . . He nodded at Paul.

  The windows were raised a little.

  Then moving his chair backwards Sammy rose and paused for the two Committee men to join him; they made their way to the rear where tables had been placed end to end, with a row of chairs immediately to their front. The Committee men stood on chairs to either side of the row while Sammy climbed up onto the centre table and clapped his hands for the chatter to cease. He began to speak but many of those seated had their view restricted and had to stand; the ensuing noise of furniture being banged about could have seemed deliberate. Hines was aware of his heart thumping, his irritation – anger perhaps. What a time to collapse with a stroke. Yet Sammy took it all in his stride. Probably Reilly would manage this kind of thing in a similar manner; his temperament is right for it. Somebody next to Paul had hoisted him onto the table. Ta, muttered Hines and he took the boy’s hand and continued to hold it.

  Sammy had been given a cigarette. By the time he was smoking the racket died; he started to speak. Eh I’ve had to call this Extraordinary Meeting. A thing’s just happened and it needs to be discussed. Most of yous’ll already have heard about it by now. What it is: Rab Hines there, he had a Head Office line waiting for him when he collected his wages this morning. Campbell was on the desk. Anyway, Rab wouldnt take the line. He wouldnt take it because it means he would have to go up to Head Office this afternoon and he’s no working. He told Campbell he wasnt going. The thing is: if he doesnt accept the line they’re saying they’ll sack him on the spot. It’s a genuine threat. Fairlie. No messing with him as most of yous’ll know. He’s going right in to see McGilvaray. Now as far as I’m concerned he’s went over the score, and I told him that. The point is but – let’s no kid ourself – McGilvaray’s going to be right behind him . . . Sammy dragged on the cigarette.

  What’re they wanting to sack him for? called somebody. Cause he’ll no take the line, replied somebody from the crowd.

  The brief chatter halted when Sammy raised his hand; he went on: Now as I say, this thing’s got to be discussed. That’s how I’ve called the Meeting.

  What was the line for? called somebody.

  Sammy raised his hand to stop anyone replying. We cant have the Meeting lasting all day, he said, for all we know Fairlie’s in with McGilvaray right at this minute. So it’s a possible strike situation; that’s the kind of thing we’ve got to talk about.

  Someone had passed Hines another tipped cigarette; his mouth tasted like burnt paper; smoking is bad for the health and requires immediate cessation.

  Now as I’m saying, it’s no a strike situation at the moment but let’s no kid ourself, we might have to start thinking along these lines. The point is: Fairlie’s out of order. He’s threatening to sack Rab Hines on the spot if he doesnt take the line and go up to Head Office this afternoon. Now he’s got no blooming right to carry on like that. What I’m saying is: if Mr McGilvaray backs him up then we should be prepared to withdraw our labour. And I think McGilvaray will back him up; he’ll go the full road. So we’ve got to be ready to go the full road as well.

  Sammy inhaled and gazed round at the faces, then turning to a Committee man he nodded and stepped down onto a chair. The Committee man got up onto the table. The Meeting’s being thrown open, he called. Remember to speak through the Chair.

  And just to remind yous, said Sammy. We’ll need to keep it short.

  Somebody tugged Hines by the sleeve. What’s happening Rab?

  Hines shook his head, indicating the Committee man on the table. Towards the rear someone had raised his right hand and called a question. Speak up! replied the Committee man.

  Naw, said the man, I was just saying if Sammy wanted us to strike?

  It’s no a question of that.

  Well what is it then? cried a voice nearby Hines. We’ve just come in off the street and we dont even know what the hell’s going on!

  Aye same with me. I just came in and somebody said we were striking!

  An outbreak of chatter followed. A voice kept repeating: What did he get the Head Office line for? that’s what I want to know.

  The Committee man was frowning. Order! he called. Order! Come on now, yous’ll have to address your remarks through the Chair.

  The chatter continued. Again he called for order. A person down from the tables asked a question but it wasnt acknowledged until eventually the chatter ceased. Both Sammy and the other Committee man had climbed onto the tables. When they stepped back down the person raised his hand: Eh brother, I think the members here want to know the score and that. Now from what eh the Shop Steward said Tom Fairlie’s wanting to sack somebody on the spot. Is that right?

  Aye, called Sammy.

  But he’s no sacked him yet?

  Naw, I told you that.

  What the hell’s he wanting to sack him for? called the angry voice nearby Hines.

  He refused a line off Campbell, replied somebody from the rear.

  What for? cried another man and the chatter resumed.

  Sammy moved quickly onto the table again. He called: I’ll tell yous once more, for the benefit of those who’ve just come in. One of the conductors – Rab Hines – he had a Head Office line waiting for him this morning. He was supposed to go right away. But he objected, because he wasnt working . . .

  Sammy paused for a drag on his cigarette. Immediately Hines raised his hand aloft, waved it. Just a wee word, he called; and when Sammy nodded he said: Just to get it clear, what I objected to. See I’m no working the day. If I took the line off Campbell it meant I’d have to go home and put on the uniform then go away up the town to see Head Office. I dont think I should be forced to do that. I mean I’m no objecting to getting a line – I’m just objecting to having to go up to Head Office in my own time. I think it’s out of order that we’ve got to. I mean if they get paid to see us we should get paid to see them.

  Muttered approval followed. Sammy was nodding.

  That’s all I’m saying, added Hines.

  What was the line for? called somebody.

  It doesnt matter what it was for, replied an irritated voice.

  That’s right. Sammy held up his hand to prevent further comments. And what really matters as well is the way Fairlie’s wanting to sack Brother Hines on the spot I mean that’s really out of order. And I really think we should lay it on the line for them.

  D’you mean strike? called somebody.

  Well aye Brother; if we have to. But that’s up to yous to decide. That’s how this Meeting’s been called, so yous can discuss it and take a vote . . . H
e glanced about, looking for somewhere to stub out his cigarette dowp; eventually he dropped it to the floor and someone trod on it . . . What I want to know is if yous’re backing me; cause then I’ll know where I’m speaking from.

  For a moment he glanced round the room then he stepped down onto one of the chairs. Okay, called a Committee man. If anybody wants to speak, now’s the time. But mind and address yourself through the Chair.

  Brother . . . the angry voice from behind Hines. I dont think there’s any bloody need to take a vote. They’re trying to bloody mess us about down there as usual. I mean if they bloody get away with this then . . .

  A bit easy on the language there, called the Committee man.

  Aye, sorry; but I mean if they’re going to you know, Christ I mean we’re no going to sit back and let them. I think it’s a disgrace!

  Aye, shouted somebody. Away down and tell them Sammy.

  An outbreak of angry muttering.

  Hold on a minute, cried a voice. There’s got to be a vote.

  Hell with the vote, shouted somebody.

  Aye, no fucking need, shouted another.

  Other voices began to be heard as the Committee man called for order, and the second Committee man climbed onto the tables, also calling for order. The clamour stopped almost at once. Does anybody object if we take the vote just now? asked the first Committee man. Nobody answered. People were looking about. The Committee men exchanged glances and the first went on: All those in favour of withdrawing our labour, if they try to sack the Brother; will you raise your hands!

  The response was immediate.

  The Committee man grinned: I think that’s unanimous.

  A few cheers and applause. The Shop Steward had climbed onto a table and he raised his hand. Good to see the support, he said, and I just want to point out that things’ll probably no go that far now they see where we stand. Sammy sniffed before continuing. I’ll go down the stair and explain the position . . . He nodded.

  Reilly had come into the canteen, smiling and shaking his head at Hines, as he queued for something to eat. A constant toing and froing of people both in and out of uniform, walking from the bothy to the canteen, to the snooker-room. Hines would gaze up from the table and find somebody turning away, embarrassed at being caught staring at him. To pass the time he had been borrowing newspapers. One of them he folded and ripped methodically into shapes that multiplied as the paper unfolded. Paul was bored to the point of sleep but not beyond, and Hines had arranged two chairs so that if he did sleep he wouldnt roll onto the floor. There was no chance of getting him to the nursery now but what did that matter; just one more petty point with nothing to do with anything. Sammy was downstairs; he would be addressing McGilvaray as Mr while he in return would be addressed as Sammy. Was that of more importance than the nursery. Obviously. Obviously it was. What a strange fucking question. That is the kind of thing Hines has to be wary of. Maybe if people would talk to him. But people dont talk to him. Of course there are reasons for this. Most of the crowd attending the Meeting worked the opposite shift from him; when he was on earlyshift they would be on backshift. It was only now, when the earlyshifts were finishing, that folk were coming in to whom Hines could really chat. But not many of them were chatting to him. It was probably his own fault, when all’s said and done he is a negation. Being a negation is peculiar. Hines can see himself as this and it makes him think. What he thinks is nobody’s business. This is why he left the bothy as soon as possible after the Meeting broke up. The majority had remained there to get their thoughts on the tables. It wasnt Hines’ place to be there during such an occurrence. He would be a point of discussion and was duty bound to vanish. If he had shirked his duty and stayed, and become involved in laying himself out for inspection, what would have happened. To begin with he wouldnt have done it. He would have lied. It is pointless lying. Hines gets sick of it. A wee boy sits facing him. Probably Hines will become his greatest influence. So what. There isnt much to be said about that. Lying wouldnt make any difference. It’s all a load of shite. And what about auld Boabbie. Is he Hines’ greatest influence. Hines cannot talk to him and vice versa. What has that got to do with it. So fucking stupid. There are matters in hand of an important nature. Reilly has been talking with great excitement. What is there to be excited about. The thing has finished before it has started but he cannot understand. Reilly cannot understand. In a year the fare to Australia can be achieved. Reilly would give a year’s wages to be in Hines’ shoes. Hines would sell his part in the dispute. He doesnt want to be in his own shoes. There are practical reasons. He is not able to shout. If Reilly was in his shoes then he could shout but as things are he is unable to do so, because he is directly involved. Reilly can shout. He could be ben in the bothy doing shouting instead of eating soup in the canteen. He could be downstairs shouting. They should all be downstairs shouting. None of them are downstairs shouting. They let Sammy go down to speak and he will address McGilvaray as Mr and in return be addressed as Sammy. What is the point. There is no point in any of it. They do not understand. There is no point in speech. How come they speak. What do they speak for. It is beyond belief. How come people are content to act in this manner. Are they fucking crazy. McGilvaray is the type of fellow for whom a no-nonsense lack of shilly-shally goes down a bomb. If you trace a knife line from the adam’s apple to the belly button his blood’ll spurt in wee bubbles. If I had a gun I’d blow McGilvaray’s fucking brains out. Hines grinned. To be honest I wouldnt – ever see his daughter! Eh, christ sake, murky nights at Yoker terminus.

  Naw, said Reilly, it’s Campbell gets me; I’d love to have seen his face when you refused to sign for the line.

  Hines nodded. It was yet another lie. How come you nod to such nonsense. You spend your life working such that you cannot say what the things are. An apple a day keeps the doctor in clover.

  Reilly smiled. He likes to smile. He is a humorous fellow. He shall be a more agreeable Shop Steward than Sammy; he shall address McGilvaray as Mr and in return be addressed as Willie – or Bill. From now on I’m going to call you Bill Bill. Hello Bill, how’s it going?

  Your patter’s really degenerating ya cunt ye.

  Is that right Bill?

  Reilly grinned. He finished eating by wiping his soup bowl with his last bit of bread.

  Bread had been the highlight of the day so far for Paul. Hines had bought them both soup and bread; and he was amazed to see the bread being served dry, without margarine. He thought it was a joke, grinning his disbelief at Hines and it had taken him a while to make the first bite. Now he was munching away on potato crisps, bought for him by Reilly. It was good to have bought him the crisps. Hines could have done it himself if he had thought about it but he didnt. Reilly is good at thinking of things like that.

  I’ve got one question for you Bill, one question and one question only. How d’you make a petrol bomb?

  Reilly’s look!

  Naw seriously man; d’you know?

  Others were sitting at the table. This made matters complicated. Hines grinned and glanced from face to face. I mean surely that’s a fucking legit question to ask a potential Shop Steward? I mean if I was fucking Shop Steward I’d want to know such things in the off chance of helping out the Members.

  If you were Shop Steward there wouldnt be any bloody Members, laughed a fellow with a large nose.

  Hines has nothing against people with large noses. His own nose isnt small. Nor is it large. It is just right. The nose that juts from the face of Hines is just right. Heh you ya cunt, he said, see if you were fucking Shop Steward!

  The expectant faces.

  Hines laughed briefly. Naw, seriously, I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.

  I wish to God they would sack you, chuckled somebody.

  Reilly nodded, grinning.

  I didnt even have time for a pint! laughed Barry.

  Well fuck sake man, said Hines, neither did I . . . He glanced at Paul and winked. Give us a crisp.

  Pa
ul gave him one.

  Heh Willie, said a conductor, you missed yourself; best Meeting I’ve ever been at. See when the vote came! totally unanimous. Everybody in the room man it was really good.

  Aye, I’d like to have been there, I must admit.

  Admit fuck all, said Hines, just keep it to yourself Willie; that’s my advice to you.

  Ohh! Reilly rubbed his forehead. Anybody got a fucking aspirin!

  Christ sake ya cunt ye one minute you complain about me no talking then the next you’re fucking . . . ! Hines shook his head. I’m definitely going to Australia now.

  I wish you would and give us all peace, laughed a driver. Bloody strikes! Christmas coming and no wages! murder polis. You can go and explain it to the wife.

  Aw here we go, said Reilly.

  I’m only joking.

  Hines muttered, Is he – is he fuck.

  A short silence. The driver shook his head. I was only fucking joking.

  Hines raised his right hand. The man was only joking. Anyway, to be perfectly fucking honest with yous all, I dont want anybody going on strike on my behalf. I want to do it on my tod. It’s my strike, yous can get your own. I mean they’re fucking easy to find.