Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2

by Todd, Ian

  “Whit?”

  “Ah need tae see the dentist. Ah’ve goat toothache,” he’d lied.

  “Ye’ve goat toothache?”

  “Aye, this wan at the front,” he’d said, tapping wan ae his perfectly good incisors.

  “Any other volunteers?” the lazy basturt hid asked the sleeping dugs.

  Silent hid put up his haun.

  “Whit’s wrang wae yours?”

  Silence.

  “Right, hing oan,” Speedy Gonzales hid said, getting up aff that bone lazy arse ae his.

  He’d stretched and slowly disappeared oot ae the door, returning five minutes later.

  “Right, Taylor, come wae me.”

  He hidnae looked like a butcher. It wisnae as if he’d been wearing an apron splattered full ae blood or anything like that. He’d looked tae Johnboy like any other dentist…oiled doon hair, parted in the middle, pencil clipped grey moustache, German accent, mad eyes, gap between his front teeth, smelly breath when he leaned o’er Johnboy muttering ‘Uh-huh, Uh-huh,’ sounding like Elvis when he let rip, nicotine-stained fingers and a funny glazed look tae they eyes ae his when he wis poking aboot in Johnboy’s gub. Johnboy hid fucked up big time oan that occasion. It hid been the dentist’s assistant that hid gied Johnboy the warning signals, bit he’d been too distracted by they nicotine-stained fingers being pushed doon the back ae his gullet tae fully notice. The assistant wis a strapping big blonde wae ice blue eyes and a plump arse, while the dentist wis built like a garden rake. It hid been the big cheesy grin and the look ae pure pleasure oan that coupon ae hers, when she’d haunded the dentist o’er the big syringe, efter squirting some ae its contents oot ae the spiked end, which should’ve lit up Johnboy’s radar. Within two minutes, Johnboy hid been sent packing, staggering oot the door, haudin his mooth wae baith hauns, back tae the sanctuary ae the classroom. The basturt hid yanked oot Johnboy’s good front tooth wae a pair ae walnut nutcracker pliers. The blood hid been pishing oot everywhere.

  “Right, your turn,” Speedy, the Mexican runner hid said tae Silent.

  Silent hid jist gulped, turned away and found something interesting tae look at oot ae the windae, the cowardly wee basturt that he wis, Johnboy remembered thinking at the time.

  “We, I, have decided that you should have the benefit of rehabilitation. Of course, I need some reassurances from you all before I finally instigate this privilege,” The Heidmaster wis saying, bringing Johnboy back tae where he wis before he’d drifted aff.

  “Well, say something,” Beanpole Wilson snapped, admonishing their obvious lack ae gratitude.

  Beanpole Wilson wis wan ae the lazy basturts who goat paid tae sit in the classroom, playing cards, kidding oan he wis teaching them. It hid only been five minutes earlier that him and Rolled Back neck hid been sitting playing their fifteenth game ae snap and it wisnae even hauf ten in the morning.

  “Like whit?” Joe said, turning tae Beanpole.

  “Like, whit dae ye think ae the heidmaster’s good offer?”

  “Whit offer?”

  “The generous offer that the heidmaster his jist offered youse.”

  “I can understand why the boys could be wondering what it is I’m offering them and asking them in return, Mr Wilson,” the auld arse-belter said fae his side ae the desk.

  Well, whitever it wis, Johnboy hid awready made up his mind he wisnae volunteering fur anything, no matter who put his name forward.

  “Right then, you lot. Listen tae whit the heidmaster his tae say,” Beanpole scowled at them, sounding like the crawling basturt that he obviously wis.

  “You’ll all be aware that auditions have been taking place for this year’s Christmas Show.”

  Silence.

  “And I see that none of you have put your names forward to be part of it. Is there any particular reason that I should know about?”

  “Aye, apart fae Tony here, who’s a bit ae a ballroom dancer, none ae us kin sing,” Joe said tae smiles aw roond and a filthy look fae Beanpole.

  “I was hoping that you would all volunteer to help build the set for the show. We haven’t got much time. The opening is only seven weeks away tomorrow and it would get you out of that dreadful classroom.”

  Silence.

  “So? Whit dae ye think then, boys?” Crawler Arse asked them.

  “Ah thought there wis boys awready picked tae dae that? The same wans as last year,” Tony said, ignoring Beanpole, bit looking at the arse belter.

  “Seeing as it’s a well sought after job, I thought that I would share it this year, to give other boys an opportunity, if you get my drift? Those already chosen have all been reassigned.”

  “Dis that mean we’ll get hame oan weekend leave then?” Tony asked.

  “Oh, I don’t think we’re at that stage,” Arse Belter replied, as Beanpole jist aboot hid a flaky at the thought ae them being even considered fur hame leave.

  Silence.

  “It’ll mean ye’ll learn a trade that’ll come in handy fur when ye get oot,” Beanpole said encouragingly, as everywan turned and looked at him as if he wis a diddy.

  “Of course, it would mean you would be working on in the evenings if called upon, as well as during the day. Think of all that freedom?” The Heidmaster cooed fae behind the desk, raising they bushy eyebrows ae his.

  “Dis that mean if we’re working at night, we’ll no hiv tae dae the boots first thing in the mornings then?” Tony came back wae, as aw their eyes focused oan the auld badger behind the desk wae keen interest.

  Silence.

  “Oh, I’m sure we could review those tasks. Isn’t that right, Mr Wilson?”

  “Er, aye, heidmaster,” Beanpole muttered, looking as sick as a hauf drunk parrot.

  “Of course, I would still need some guarantees and assurances,” Belter said, gieing Johnboy a fleeting glance, before turning back tae Tony.

  “Guarantees?”

  “That you learn to use the tools for the purpose which they were intended for and not use them as weapons on the walls, furniture, other boys or staff. You agree not to fart about when you are requested to carry out a work task by Mr Button. And lastly, you must promise me that you will desist from attempting to abscond from my school,” he said, looking straight at Johnboy this time.

  Silence.

  “Fine,” Tony agreed, volunteering them, efter gieing it a wee bit ae thought.

  “Good, that’s settled then. You can all start your new positions first thing tomorrow morning, although there is one other thing. Everyone has to take up this offer. Show these boys out and bring the other lot in, Mr Wilson.”

  Chapter Eight

  So, Tony, who’d always drummed it intae Johnboy that he shouldnae volunteer fur anything, volunteered them and they goat oot ae the classroom…eventually. Patsy, Freckles, Minky, Tottie and Baby hid telt his lordship that they wur happy in the education block.

  “There’s no way Ah’m missing ‘Watch Wae Mother’, especially ‘Andy Pandy,’” Baby hid telt the heidmaster.

  “Oh, yes, you’ll be the fat comedian I’ve heard about then,” the cheeky auld arse-belter hid said, tae scowls fae the rest ae them.

  “Ma maw telt me it wisnae fat…that it wis something tae dae wae ma glands…mair like hinging muscle,” Baby hid retorted wae a straight face.

  “Yes, well, anyway, we’ll perhaps discuss that hanging muscle and those glands of yours some other time, when we have all day. In the meantime, I have…we have…decided to rehabilitate you and you will all do what you are told. Take it or leave it?”

  “We’ll leave it,” they’d aw said at wance, calling his bluff.

  “Right, back to the education programme with them, Mr Wilson,” the auld basturt hid growled, making Beanpole’s day.

  The meeting wae the heidmaster hid been oan the Wednesday and while nowan seemed particularly bothered at being back in the education block, it wis still a pain in the arse getting a wee tap oan the napper at hauf five in the morning and telt tae get up and oot t
ae the shed. It wis also still freezing cauld in the mornings.

  “Ah’m gonnae fucking kill the first gardener basturt Ah clock the day who comes in wae mud oan they boots ae his,” wis Patsy’s first moan ae the day…the same as every day.

  “Shut the fuck up, Patsy. We could be lying in oor beds if it wisnae fur aw youse,” wis Johnboy’s reply as he picked up his first muddy boot, shivering his baws aff.

  “Don’t fucking blame me, Johnboy, ya Proddy fud, ye. Blame that big thick basturt, sitting o’er there, scraping that coo shit aff ae that boot. He’s the wan that upset Frankie Howard.”

  Even the teachers who wur marching up and doon in their coats and scarves tae keep warm burst oot laughing at that wan.

  “He’s fucking right. That auld prick dis look like Frankie Howard,” Joe said tae mair laughter.

  “And anyway, how wis Ah tae know Ah wis getting tae work in a warm greenhoose, where Ah could sit oan ma arse and munch tomatoes aw day, eh? Answer me that wan?” Patsy bleated tae nobody.

  “So, if ye knew whit wis oan offer, ye wid’ve taken it then?” Baby accused him.

  “Wid Ah fuck. That auld arse-belter wisnae getting tae pull a flanker o’er ma eyes. And ye kin tell him Ah said that,” Patsy snarled at the two teachers, as he reached fur another boot that wis caked wae mud and dung.

  “Baby, the next time we’re hauled in tae be rehabilitated, let me dae the talking eh?” Freckles said drily tae mair laughter.

  She’d appeared o’er tae the classroom oan the Friday, first thing in the morning, before coming back wae a new tack in the efternoon. They’d aw been watching the early edition ae ‘Bill and Ben, the Flowerpot Men.’ Rolled Back Neck hid been growling at them, telling them tae shut the fuck up as it wis his favourite programme. He wis always trying tae anticipate who goat up tae nae good first and then wid shout oot the answer. Wis it Bill or wis it Ben? The best bit wis that nine times oot ae ten, he never goat it right. Everywan always made a point ae disrupting his happiness by hitting him wae wan-liners during the programme while he wis sitting there trying tae concentrate. Baby and him wur furever arguing o’er which wis the best programme, ‘Andy Pandy’ or ‘The Flower Pot Men.’

  “Ah’d rather live in a wee basket than a fucking auld flowerpot, any day ae the week,” Baby hid jist announced the day the social worker appeared.

  “If ye could find wan tae fit ye,” The Neck hid shot back, jist as a female heid appeared roond the door, taking them aw by surprise.

  “Mr Burns, can I have a word with you, please?” the heid hid asked, before disappearing back tae where it hid originated fae.

  Two minutes later she’d come back and hid asked Beanpole tae fuck aff wae his pal, before plapping her arse doon oan tae a chair in front ae them. Johnboy hid awready sauntered o’er tae the windae tae see if the coast wis clear, before putting a chair through the glass, bit he’d spotted a big bawheid, attached tae a fat neck, prowling aboot ootside.

  “Hello, boys. I’m Miss Flaw, Thistle Park’s resident social worker. I wondered if I could have a word with you all?” she’d said, sounding like Andy Pandy’s maw.

  “Ye’re no Chinese, by any chance, ur ye?” Joe hid asked her.

  “No, what made you ask me that then?” she asked, surprised.

  Silence.

  “I was just wondering if you had reconsidered Mr Gordon’s proposition about joining the school’s rehabilitation programme?”

  Silence.

  “I mean, you’ve all been sitting in here for months now, doing very little academically, from what I can see,” she’d said, looking aboot disapprovingly at the mess.

  Silence.

  “Er, right, well. I thought I would just pop in and introduce myself. If you change your minds, just ask Mr Burns or one of the other members of staff to give me a shout, eh?” she’d coo-ed, scampering oot the door, her shoulders slumped.

  Nowan hid said a word fur aboot two minutes efter she’d left, which wis a long time in the classroom.

  “Joe, whit the fuck wur ye wanting tae know if she wis Chinese fur?” Freckles hid finally asked, walking intae it.

  “Ah’m Miss Flaw?” he’d replied, pulling the sides ae his eyes intae slits, as the others aw fell aboot laughing.

  “Whit? Ah don’t get that,” Patsy hid said, tae mair laughter.

  In the efternoon she’d come back. This time, she’d goat Rolled Back Neck tae take Tony alang tae the empty dentist’s room fur a wee chat. He’d been away fur aboot hauf an hour and then he’d walked back intae the room.

  “Right, we aw start oor new jobs oan Monday. Anywan goat a problem wae that? Naw? Good.”

  Chapter Nine

  Fanny placed her jotter oan the ancient scratched desk in front ae her and lay a fresh, un-chewed pencil and fountain pen within easy reach, side by side, like two wee sojers. Although she hid awready made up her mind which wan tae use, she still went through her usual ritual ae choosing which tool wis required. The fountain pen wis usually fur the straightforward stuff like processing numbers, reports oan how well the CPs wur daeing and reports tae other schools, pre-transfer. In other words, the nae-brainer stuff. The pencil wis fur the mair complex tasks that might require a re-write, like court reports, where she might need a rub-oot or additions, depending oan the complexity ae the boy and the charges he faced. She leaned o’er and flicked an imaginary piece ae dust aff her desk. She could hardly contain her excitement. She sat and thought aboot the past week’s events. Efter a year ae trying tae get somewhere in the place, she felt she hid finally made a breakthrough. She wanted tae telephone…or even better…jump intae her wee green mini and drive in tae Paisley and tell Mr Dupon…Hugh…the good news. She knew she still hid an uphill battle oan her hauns. Oan the wan haun, there wis the school staff, who somewan hid furgotten tae tell it wis nineteen sixty eight and no eighteen sixty eight. She hid spent five sessions o’er the past five weeks wae them, explaining the new reward and response techniques, which wur being tried oot in some ae the approved schools in England and how this wis impacting oan how young people responded, particularly wae regards tae reducing disruptive and violent behaviour. She’d even hid Mr Dupon…Hugh…up tae gie them a session, busy though he clearly wis. She’d thought she wis getting somewhere until Beanpole…Mr Wilson…hid raised his haun at the end ae that session.

  “That aw sounds very interesting, Mr Duponcie, bit whit his aw this goat tae dae wae us?” he’d asked.

  That hid opened the floodgates.

  “Bring back the birch, that’s whit Ah say.”

  “Aye, we should never hiv goat rid ae it.”

  “Rehabilitation? The last time Ah heard that word wis when Ah read in The Glesga Echo aboot some politician threatening tae sue some other poncey git fur slander and he said he wis taking oot rehabilitation against him in The Sheriff Court.”

  “When Ah wis a boy, we never…”

  “It’s awright you playing at it, Miss Flaw, bit us boys in here hiv tae pick up the pieces efter aw youse do-gooders go.”

  Oan and oan it hid gone, while Mr Dupon…Hugh…and her hid sat there, trying tae keep a smile oan their faces and looking as if they wur interested in whit they wur saying. And then the breakthrough hid come two days later.

  “Let me get this straight, Miss Flaw. You wish to target a group of malingerers, here in Thistle Park…preferably a group of no-hopers…with the intention of trying to introduce a rehabilitation programme. Is that right?” The Heidmaster hid said fae behind his desk at her first meeting oan the subject wae him.

  “Yes.”

  “Now, why would a feisty little chestnut like you wish to do something like that, eh?”

  “Because rehabilitation is the only thing that has any chance of working, to turn around and reverse the destructive pattern that has been bred into the inmates who darken our doors.”

  “This may come as a surprise to someone like yourself, but when I was a boy, I was a wee bit of a rascal myself, you know?”

  �
�Yes, but…”

  “I mean, while I was no angel, my friends and I didn’t get up to half the things these little bas…buggers get up to nowadays.”

  “There’s been research carried out with young prisoners that has highlighted that if you reward good behaviour, then there’s a good chance that good behaviour becomes the norm. There’s also changes in how we treat juveniles within the youth justice system that have been implemented as a result of the Kilbrandon Report. We have an opportunity to be at the forefront…to be trailblazers,” she’d pleaded.

  “I don’t disagree with what you’re trying to do. However, the delinquents we tend to be blessed with in here do not exactly exhibit any worthwhile traits and normal behaviour to start with.”

  “Precisely. That’s why it’s a challenge, headmaster. If we can turn around just a few of them, then the chances are that others will see the benefits and start behaving themselves as well.”

  “It all sounds very scientific to me, Miss Flaw, but I’m willing to give it a go, just so people don’t get the impression that I’m not progressive. What do you need from me?”

  “I want to work with a group and try out some of the latest techniques. I’ve already carried out some research and I think that I’ve identified who we need to work with.”

  “Ah, yes? And who would that be then?”

  “There’s a group from the Townhead area of Glasgow. I’ve been monitoring them over the past couple of months. They rarely mix with any of the other boys and are causing lots of disruption, which is taking up significant staff time on a daily basis.”

  “I thought all the boys sent here did that?”

  “Not like this group. If I can get at least a few of them on board, that would be a fantastic start. I would need your full support, though, or it won’t work. The staff will be against it.”

  Silence.