by Todd, Ian
“Aye, jist ma luck, hinging aboot in here wae a prick like you, waiting fur fuck knows whit. Whit did ye say we wur in fur again?”
“Naw, naw, c’mone noo…seriously…tell me the truth? Is this some kind ae a joke or something?” Johnboy demanded, scanning the cell tae see if there wis a pulley operating whitever it wis that wis staunin there in front ae him.
“Naw, it’s a bloody nightmare. How long did ye say we’ve been hinging aboot here noo?” Skull sniffed, as he cast his eyes aboot the cell.
Tae Johnboy, it felt like when ye’re hivving a really confusing dream or a nightmare and ye know fine well that that’s whit it is, so ye try tae psych yersel up tae waken up before it gets any worse. Try as he might, this wis the wan and only time in his life that it didnae seem tae be working, even though he’d hid a lot ae experience ae waking up in the night in a lather. Johnboy’s ma never allowed him anything tae eat or drink, especially tea and cheese, efter nine o’clock at night because ae his nightmares…that and aw the sleep-walking he wis prone tae daeing. He looked at the ghost, or whitever the fuck it wis staunin in front ae him. He felt his heart gaun like the clappers. It must’ve been at least three years since he’d last been in Skull Kelly’s company, when they wur baith ten years auld and in the same class at school.
“Skull, is it really you?” he asked. “Be honest noo.”
“Noo ye’re freaking me oot, fur Christ’s sake. Who else could it be?”
“Ah…Ah don’t know.”
“Look…it’s me,” he said, jumping up, grabbing the sock-baw and beating Johnboy’s score by two, before making an arse ae it and letting it land in the toilet bowl.
“Aw, fur fuck’s sake, Skull, ya eejit, ye. Noo, look whit ye’ve gone and done. Ah’ll hiv tae bloody wear these wet noo,” Johnboy whined, picking the sock-baw oot ae the water and unrolling the socks, before laying them flat, side by side, at the bottom ae the concrete bed.
“So, where the hell hiv youse been then?”
“Whit dae ye mean, where the hell hiv we been? Where the fuck hiv you been, ye mean?”
Silence.
“Johnboy, why did youse leave me?” Skull asked, his voice barely a whisper, turning his face away.
“Skull, whit ur ye oan aboot? The last time Ah saw ye wis the night before we wur due tae go back tae school…remember? Ye wur supposed tae be bringing me in a good doo book.”
Silence.
“It wis the day efter we tanned the Murphys’ loft dookit and me and you hid been doon tae Paddy’s in the Saltmarket tae check oot the doos. Ye walked up the road wae me and then ye heided hame. Remember?”
“Oh, aye, noo that ye’ve mentioned it, Ah kin remember that,” Skull replied, brightening up, a big grin appearing oan that ugly wee coupon ae his.
“So, whit the hell happened efter that then? Where did ye go efter ye left me?”
“Ah remember bumping intae Flypast roond in Grafton Street oan ma way up the road and then gaun back roond tae his dookit tae check oot his new doos that he goat fur trading in the wans that he goat aff ae Crisscross and that big sergeant wan.”
“Doos? Flypast? Whit doos?”
Skull went oan tae tell Johnboy whit Flypast, wan ae Johnboy’s neighbours, who hid a dookit in the next back court tae him, hid telt Skull. Flypast hid goat four quality doos aff ae two ae the local bizzies. Wan ae them, a cross-eyed shitehoose called Crisscross, hid accidently wrecked Flypast’s dookit earlier that summer, while him and his sergeant pal wur trying tae kidnap Johnboy and Tony Gucci, fur something they hidnae done. Normally, a wee present ae four cracking pigeons like that wid’ve been welcomed as being heaven-sent, bit no oan this occasion. Johnboy, Tony, Joe and Skull, hid jist tanned the loft where the local Big Man, Pat Molloy, kept three big pure bred Horsemen Thief Pouter doos, whose bloodlines could be traced back tae the original batch that hid come o’er fae Spain in the sixteenth or seventeenth century, as a present fur Mary Queen ae Scots. The loft that they’d broken intae wis operated by the ugliest and nastiest trio ae basturts anywan could ever hiv the misfortune tae come across. Flypast wid’ve been right tae be worried aboot accepting freebie doos aff ae anywan, including the polis, the day efter the raid up oan Ronald Street. As soon as the Murphy brothers…Shaun, the auldest, and the blonde twins, Mick and Danny…hid discovered that o’er fifty ae their good doos and hens hid been blagged, alang wae the three prized Horsemen, they’d charged roond tae The Mankys’ cabin and then tae Flypast’s, in the hope ae catching them red-haunded wae their birds. Johnboy aboot pished himsel laughing when Skull telt him that Flypast hid telt the Murphys that he’d goat the four doos oot ae a big batch that the bizzies claimed tae hiv stashed away. This wis a stroke ae genius, as it wid’ve thrown the scent aff ae The Mankys and oan tae the polis, who wur aw well-known in the Toonheid as being thieving basturts anyway.
“Bit, Skull, Ah thought ye wur supposed tae be heiding hame that night, efter walking up the road wae me fae Paddy’s?” Johnboy challenged him.
“Ah wis, bit Ah goat caught up wae Flypast. As well as showing me his new doos, he telt me the story aboot ma da and how they Murphys set aboot him o’er the heid ae him refusing tae sell The Big Man wan ae the original Horsemen, when Ah wis a wee snapper. Ah couldnae leave withoot hearing the full story ae whit hid happened.”
Johnboy sat wae his back against the white tiled wall, looking across at whitever the fuck it wis in front ae him. Skull stared straight back. He wis still wearing his fitba boots, the wans wae the white soles and worn-doon studs, troosers that wur far too big fur him, held up by a snake belt, and his da’s auld Partick Thistle jersey that wis never aff ae his back. Something wis missing.
“Whit’s happened tae yer Celtic tammy, Skull?”
“Ma tammy? Ah hivnae a clue. Ah’ve been searching aw o’er the place fur it. None ae youse wid hiv it, by any chance, wid ye?” Skull asked hopefully.
Johnboy sat, no saying anything. His brain wis aw o’er the place. He kept coming up wae a question, wid hesitate and then no ask it. There wis so many things he wanted tae ask. Skull took advantage ae the silence tae come and sit cross-legged in front ae him, close enough fur Johnboy tae touch the strawberry jam fish-shaped stain that wis still clinging tae the front ae the Partick Thistle jersey. It hid landed there when it hid oozed oot ae the sliced breid piece that Skull hid blagged oot ae Crisscross and his Salvation Army wife, Fat Sally Sally’s kitchen oan the night The Mankys tanned their hoose and stole aw her collection money fur the Feed The Hungry Weans oot in Africa campaign. Johnboy hid a strong urge tae lean o’er and gie Skull’s chest a wee prod wae a finger, jist tae see if he wis real, bit decided nae tae bother. Skull might look like the son ae Mr Magoo, bit he wisnae wan tae mess aboot wae if he turned nasty, so Johnboy kept his fingers tae himsel. Johnboy’s brain wis struggling tae make up its mind whether it wis actually Skull who wis sitting there or whether Johnboy hid finally cracked up and gone doo-lally. He wis dying tae ask Skull the obvious question, bit he kept hesitating, no sure that he really wanted tae know. He sensed that Skull knew that, because he jist smiled back at Johnboy wae that familiar glint in his eyes that he put oan when he wis challenging somewan tae hiv a go at him. Despite his best efforts, Johnboy felt the tears starting tae well up in his eyes.
“Skull…how auld ur ye noo?” he croaked, swiftly wiping they eyes ae his wae the sleeve ae his aulder brother Charlie’s good shirt, the wan his ma hidnae pawned because ae his court appearance, hoping Skull widnae notice him bubbling.
“Ten.”
Silence.
“Ah’m thirteen,” Johnboy finally murmured, embarrassed…feeling guilty fur some reason.
“Aye, Ah know,” Skull replied quietly, shrugging they skinny shoulders ae his as he looked straight intae Johnboy’s soggy eyes.
Aw ae a sudden, and much tae Johnboy’s relief, Skull brightened up and changed the subject.
“Wis yer ma up at court the day?”
“Aye.”
“Is she
still as mental as fuck?”
“Worse. Her and aw they pals ae hers ur still battling wae The Corporation. Ah came across her sitting greeting tae hersel a couple ae days before Ah wis slung oan remand. Well, she wisnae exactly howling or anything like that. It wis mair like…like…ye know that scene where Paul Newman gets the letter tae say that his ma’s deid in the film ‘Cool Hand Luke’, and The Captain, who’s a right evil basturt, slings his arse intae the punishment box in the mid-day sun, tae make sure he disnae run away…the bit where everywan in the picture hoose is trying hard no tae let their girlfriends clock that they’re aboot tae start bubbling? Well, the expression oan her coupon wis mair like that, rather than her sitting there bucketing aw o’er the place.
“Cool Hand Luke?”
“Ah don’t care if it rains or freezes, as long as Ah’ve goat ma plastic Jesus, hinging oan the dashboard of ma car…” Johnboy sang, smiling across at Skull.
“Is that an auld film then?” Skull asked, laughing, efter Johnboy’d finished murdering fuck oot ae the cat.
“Oh, right, er, naw…it probably came oot efter…efter, ye, er…disappeared,” he replied, feeling his face flush. “We aw skipped intae the Odeon, doon oan Renfield Street, when it first came oot, bit Ah widnae worry, ye didnae miss that much,” he lied. “Tony only wanted tae go and see it because Paul Newman wis getting wan o’er oan the basturts. Bit anyway, getting back tae that ma ae mine. There she wis, listening tae some song oan Radio Caroline, the tears rolling doon her cheeks. Ah couldnae remember if Ah’d ever seen her greeting before. She never clocked me staunin at the door, so Ah jist crept back alang the lobby tae ma room so as no tae embarrass her.”
“So, whit wis the song?”
“Ah’m no sure. It wis being sung by some guy wae a deep voice, twanging away oan a guitar, singing aboot tea and oranges coming aw the way fae China fur his girlfriend who’s name Ah cannae remember noo.”
“Oranges? Christ, Ah’d love tae get stuck right intae an orange jist noo, so Ah wid. Ah’ve forgotten whit they taste like.”
Despite trying, Johnboy couldnae move a muscle. He tried haudin his breath in fur as long as possible tae try and get himsel tae wake up, bit it wisnae any good. He eventually hid tae take in a big deep gulp or he wid’ve passed oot. He also hid tae keep wiping the tears away fae his eyes wae they fingers ae his.
“Dae ye fancy a game ae keepy-up?” Skull suddenly asked him, clearly embarrassed at the water works oan display in front ae him.
“As long as ye don’t start aw yer whinging and cheating,” Johnboy replied, smiling through his tears, glad ae the reprieve fae making even mair ae an arse ae himsel than he awready wis.
“Aye, well, as long as ye stoap aw that bubbling then.”
They must’ve played fur aboot an hour or so. Skull moaned, groaned and argued aw the way through the game, demanding tae start again if he made an arse ae it at the start ae anything. At wan point, the big, booming, echoing voice ae Creeping Jesus, the turnkey, bawled alang the corridor fur them tae keep the noise doon.
“Prick!” Skull howled back, as the pair ae them burst oot laughing.
Johnboy went o’er and plapped that arse ae his back doon wae his back against the wall where he’d been sitting before the game.
“Hoi, don’t sit doon jist because that Creeping Jesus diddy telt us tae keep the noise doon.”
“Ah’m no. Ah’m knackered.”
“Ye’re humped, that’s whit it is, and ye don’t want tae admit it,” Skull telt him, grinning, plapping his baggy-troosered arse doon opposite Johnboy.
“So, ye ended up in The Grove jist like Ah said ye wid.”
“Aye, ye wur right aboot that wan, Skull.”
“And, how’s that arse ae yers?”
“Still intact,” Johnboy replied before the baith ae them burst oot laughing.
“And wis Ah right aboot that shit-hoose ae a place then?”
“Spot oan, as usual, so ye wur.”
“See? Ah telt ye. It’s no often Ah’m wrang, bit Ah wis right again, so Ah wis.”
“By the way, Ah’ve started tae bash the auld Bishop. We aw hiv,” Johnboy announced proudly, wondering whit tae say next.
“Hiv ye? Dae ye come?”
“Buckets,” Johnboy bragged.
“Wow!”
Johnboy couldnae stoap himsel fae sitting fidgeting wae they fingers ae his, trying tae pluck up the courage tae finally blurt oot the question. Despite trying his best tae be patient, he couldnae haud it in any longer. It seemed obvious, at least it did tae Johnboy, bit it wis clear that Skull wisnae gonnae spill the beans and tell Johnboy whit he needed tae know, withoot a wee bit ae encouragement. He bit the bullet.
“So, whit happened efter ye left Flypast’s, Skull?”
Silence.
“Efter leaving Flypast’s?” Skull finally replied, his voice sounding distant, bit his eyes looking straight intae Johnboy’s. “Ah jist heided hameward, alang Stirling Road. That’s the way Ah should’ve gone earlier, insteid ae via McAslin Street, where Ah’d bumped intae Flypast. By that time, Ah awready knew Ah wis far too late tae get intae the hoose, bit Ah thought Ah’d gie it a shot anyway. Ah thought that Ah’d maybe get in, seeing as school wis starting the next day efter the summer holidays…and anyway, Ah wanted tae get ye that doo book,” he said, a wee smile appearing at the corner ae his mooth.
“Aye, Ah wis fair looking forward tae that, so Ah wis,” Johnboy murmured encouragingly wae a nod ae his heid.
“When Ah goat tae the door, it wis shut as tight as a blind nun’s fanny.”
“Er, ur ye supposed tae be saying things like that?” Johnboy asked, shocked.
He peered closely at Skull, efter swiftly looking aboot the cell, hauf expecting a bolt ae lightening tae hit them at any second.
“Like whit? As tight as a blind nun’s fanny?”
“Well, ye know?” Johnboy said hesitantly, still waiting fur that big bolt tae appear doon through the curved brick ceiling.
“Why wid Ah no be able tae say something like that?”
“Ah don’t know. Ah…Ah jist thought ye widnae be, that’s aw.”
“Ye mean like…when Ah looked through that keyhole, it wis as tight as an altar boy’s arse-hole that hid managed tae escape fae the clutches ae a big hairy priest’s fingers? Or how aboot…when Ah looked through the letter box, it wis as wide as that procurator fiscal’s fanny efter being shagged by hauf the judges in the toon tae get that prosecutor’s job?”
“Skull, ye hivnae changed a bit, so ye hivnae,” Johnboy retorted, laughing.
“Anyway, it wis obvious as soon as Ah clocked that the door wis bolted, that Ah widnae be sleeping at hame that night. It’s funny though…if Ah hidnae hid the key fur oor new cabin across oan Parly Road, Ah wid’ve probably jist went next door tae Margaret’s. Before Ah arrived at the closemooth, Ah’d decided that Ah wis gonnae knock oan her door and ask if Ah could kip oan her flair because Ah’d school in the morning and Ah wanted tae get that doo book fur ye. Margaret hid let me crash at hers in the past, plenty ae times, bit Ah always felt awkward aboot chapping oan her door at night and asking her. Ah wish we hidnae bought that dookit aff ae they Murphy pricks noo, when Ah think aboot it.”
“Don’t say that, Skull. Getting the dookit wis bloody brilliant, so it wis…apart fae whit happened tae you, that is. Even if we did only hiv it fur a few scabby days, Ah’m still glad we goat wan o’er oan they Murphy pricks. Remember how happy we aw wur the day we goat the key ae the cabin? Nowan knows this…” Johnboy said, suddenly lowering his voice and looking aboot the empty cell. “We cannae mention this tae anywan, bit it wis us that put The Big Man and they Murphys oot ae the doo business. They jacked it in the day efter we wiped the flair wae they arses ae theirs. Yer da wid’ve been proud ae ye, Skull. Aw the doo men across the city ur fleeing doos tae their heart’s content, withoot hivving tae be worrying aboot a chap oan the door in the middle ae the night fae they Murphys, so they ur.”
�
�Really?”
“Oh, aye,” Johnboy acknowledged, gieing Skull a wee knowing wink.
“So, The Big Man never found oot that it wis us that tanned the loft and blagged aw his good Horsemen?”
“Naw. He thinks it wis the polis that goat some big team fae doon south tae come up. Him and the bizzies hiv been battling away ever since, which suits us. It means that we kin get away wae blue murder maist ae the time. Apart fae the two local sergeants, the plods oan the street tend tae stick tae their squad cars efter dark, fur fear ae coming across Wan-bob Broon or The Goat when they’re pished.
“Bloody brilliant. At least, that makes me feel a lot better, so it dis, knowing we humped them…again.” Skull said, smiling.
“Anyway, so whit happened next?” Johnboy asked, steering Skull back tae the matter in haun.
“Ah jist decided tae heid roond tae the cabin. When Ah goat there, everything wis fine and dandy, so it wis. Ah goat the candles lit and put oan Joe’s tranny and played wae the wee hen and the doo fur a bit. They seemed glad tae see me. It wis obvious they wur getting tae know me and wur mair comfortable wae me haundling them. Ah’d jist put them back in their nesting boxes when Tam the Bam fae The Grafton Bar’s dug, Elvis, arrived fur a wee visit.
“Aye, Ah remember Elvis. The Toonheid wisnae the same withoot him…and you as well, so it wisnae.”
“Anyway, Elvis and me scoffed wan ae they good City Bakeries pies we’d hid left o’er fae the day before. Ah don’t know whit time it wid’ve been, bit aw Ah remember wis laying doon oan the cot beside Elvis, who wis lying there, feeling right at hame, snoring and farting like buggery. Ah’d left the tranny oan. It wis hinging fae the bit ae string that Joe’d nailed up oan the wall and Ah couldnae be arsed getting up tae switch it aff. It wis the same wae the candles. Ah’d stuck two ae them oan tae a couple ae jam jar lids,” Skull said quietly, before drifting intae silence.
Johnboy held his breath. He wisnae sure if he really wanted tae hear whit wis coming next, bit knew he hid tae know. Tony, Joe and Paul wid never furgive him if he came away withoot finding oot. He looked at Skull, whose face wis aboot eighteen inches fae his. Although Skull wis staring straight intae Johnboy’s eyes, it wis as if Johnboy wisnae there. Skull seemed tae hiv drifted aff again.
