by James Kelman
Ye must understand also Mister Samuels that if as you suggest the alleged dysfunction is an effect of physical restraints and is established as such then the secondary factor arises in respect of those restraints, and this secondary factor may become primary, why were those restraints being exercised…
Ye want to know like?
…
Ye want to know about the restraints?
No I dont want to know Mister Samuels but ye must understand that it would tend to cast doubt on the question of causation; you could find yerself in the invidious situation where it is argued, on the balance of probability, that it was you yerself that caused the alleged dysfunction, that you were the primary cause.
Sammy knew that was coming. He fucking knew it. Obvious as fuck. He bit on the skin at the corner of his left thumb.
Would ye like to add something?
It was aye the same. He folded his arms.
Mister Samuels?
Aye?
Do ye have anything to add?
Sammy sat forwards on the chair and gripped his knees: I’m saying there was physical restraints, right? and the upshot was I went blind, I got sightloss: that’s what I’m saying.
…
What is there something wrong in that?
It’s not a question of wrongness we’re only filling out an application.
You’re saying I should go after compensation?
I beg yer pardon Mister Samuels I’m not saying anything of the sort.
Well what then? I mean the way you’re talking I’d be as well no even bothering. I mean basically that’s what ye’re saying, dont bother, that’s what ye’re telling me christ almighty, I’m no eh I mean – come on; here I am I mean I’m blind, I know it wasnay the polis’s fault they’re only doing their bloody job, how did they know what would happen they didnay, they didnay know, I’m no blaming them, no in that way, it wasnay bloody intentional I mean I admit that christ… Sammy shook his head, then he was aware of the keyboard. Are ye putting that down?
I beg yer pardon?
Christ almighty. Sorry… Look miss I didnay know ye were gony write all that down, I mean…
Is there something you’d like withdrawn? Are you asking that I withdraw something?
I dont even know what I said.
Well if ye wish to add something…
Sammy sniffed. He rubbed his eyes. They were itchy. He wasnay gony lose his temper. He shouldnay lose his temper anyway cause it was his own fault, as per fucking usual. If he was gony get angry then he should kick fuck out himself cause he was the fucking idiot, fucking him, naybody else. He reached into his pocket and brought out the tobacco. He turned the packet over, twiddled it between his fingers. He took a short breath, then a longer yin. It was a case of screwing the nut. It was his belly just, the ribcage. A case of relaxing, relaxing. Ye let it go, ye just let it go. He listened to the keyboard. It was fucking pointless. So ye leave it.
Sammy smiled, he shook his head.
Maybe I didnt love you
just as much as I should have
maybe I didnt see you
just as often as I could have
Fuck them. Fuck them. He sighed and leant back on the chair; he should have fucking went to sleep, he shouldnay have woke up either neither he should. Fuck them.
She was talking, fuck her. Fuck ye hen. Sammy lifted the stick then got himself onto his feet. Bla bla bla.
The Medical Benefits Office of the Police Department has its own procedures Mister Samuels.
Is that a fact?
…
Sammy stood for a moment then he said: Can I take a form away with me and fill it in myself?
Ye can yes; but ye do realise there is a stipulated period of time in claims like these: you assert the dysfunction took place on Tuesday last?
Tuesday aye.
Then ye’ve eight more days excluding Sundays. I must also advise ye that even should you fill in a new form the present one remains on file as part of the scheduled evidence.
Can ye no just scrub it.
No. I can however withdraw yer application.
Well ye might as well I mean I’m as well just bloody chucking it.
…
Eh?
Mister Samuels if ye feel that you have sightloss then it is in yer own interest to register it in respect of the physical criteria required for full-function job registration.
Aye.
What happens if you are sent on Community Work Provision under the current terms of contract? If ye cant see then ye’ll prove incapable of fulfilling these terms. I strongly advise ye to register just now.
Aye but…
It’s only a matter of registering the dysfunction, in your case sightloss; if it is established then the physical criteria in respect of job registration will alter accordingly.
I know what ye’re saying.
This means you become available for certain types of work and only those types of work. Some jobs demand the capacity of sightloss dysfunction; others dont.
Right.
So do ye consider this is a thing ye might want to do?
Yeh.
The argument now becomes purely medical. Their authorities will request reports.
Fine.
You’ll still be asked to attend the PDMBO in person, I should advise ye of that, but it’s a formality in respect of the onset question. The Police department’s medical authorities must determine a date on which ye received yer dysfunction. Obviously if ye assert ye became in receipt of this while in custody of their own officers then they become obliged to seek a fuller clarification. It’s always a formality in claims of this nature.
Aye. Sammy sniffed. Ye see miss I’m no actually sure when I got the sightloss, it might have been earlier, it might have been last Saturday, in fact I think it was last Saturday.
I thought you said it was Tuesday?
Yeh but it might have been Saturday.
Are ye sure?
Well I’m no positive.
But it might have been?
The more I think about it, aye, cause that day’s went totally out my memory I mean it’s a blank, so I think maybe that’ll be it, that’ll be how it happened.
And that was before ye got taken into police custody?
Aye, yeh.
And do ye have a certificate from an authorised medical practitioner? She was tapping into the computer while she spoke.
No yet, I’m making an appointment the morrow morning. I hope to see the doctor on Monday.
Well ye should provide the department with a copy of the medical report as soon as possible.
That’s what I was gony do.
Fine.
Sammy sniffed. So is that my claim for Dysfunctional Benefit scrubbed now?
Well I’m afraid not, it is withdrawn though.
How d’ye mean like it stays on the computer?
Yes, but it’s filed as a withdrawn claim.
See if I change my mind…
What about Mister Samuels?
Well I dont know yet, but if I do I mean if I do change my mind… What happens then?
That depends, on what ye were changing yer mind about. These situations are particular.
Right.
Do ye have anything in mind?
Naw no really.
Again I advise you on the stipulated periods Mister Samuels, if ye assert the dysfunction occurred on the Saturday rather than the Tuesday then yer application period is reduced to five days.
Right, thanks.
Could ye sign here please? She put a pen into his hand and guided it to what felt like a wee machine; she held his index finger to a spot inside it. Just here, she said.
The smell of her perfume. Sammy said: This could be anything I’m signing! And he smiled. I’m just kidding.
No ye’re quite right Mister Samuels, I should have mentioned, this is a statutory disclaimer to state that ye’ve come here and explained the situation to the best of yer ability in the full aw
areness that any knowingly false statements can result in the withdrawal of any or all allowances from any or all sections of this department of state; and that any action taken by this department of state will neither preclude nor negate a further action that may be contemplated by any other department of state.
Sammy signed; then there was a ripping noise and she put a piece of paper into his hand. Yer receipt, she said, it acknowledges yer claim for re-registration.
He put it in his pocket then got his stick. For some fucking reason he gave her a cheerio before leaving. When he reached the door he thought he heard her heels clipping away. Maybe going for her lunch. He could imagine her walking across the floor. Sammy knew this kind of woman. Totally beautiful in a weird way; didnay matter what like she was, her build, nothing. Dead sexual as well. Sometimes they wear these smart-cut suits, their blouses are low-cut and they’re beautiful and ye’re at a total disadvantage; even her voice caws the feet from under ye. Ye meet them everywhere too in these official capacities, that’s the best of it – worst I should say. Who’s that woman actress with the husky voice? she gives ye a look and ye cannay come back from it; everywhere she goes she reduces men to silence. Sometimes they have her playing the main part in detective movies. Even without the gun but, a square go man, ye’d still be in trouble. Course sometimes it’s a different type of woman all the gether.
Okay; so that was him fuckt.
A guy doing time once when Sammy was there. He had been in the reserves or something, the territorials, wound up he got sent to some middle east place. He kept getting stuck out in the desert and he caught some kind of terrible disease. Sammy says to him once: How the fuck did ye no just shoot the craw? desert man know what I mean?
Where would I have went? he says.
Anywhere. Fucking Australia. China.
Och you’re dreaming, he says, d’ye know where the middle east is?
The middle east? The middle east’s in the fucking middle east. It’s in between the near fucking east and the far east.
Aye but whereabouts I mean that’s a big area Sammy.
Exactly; a big fucking area, all the better to disappear.
Ah naw, he says, I know what you’re meaning but it’s just the opposite. The bigger the space the easier you’re cattled
Love is like a dying ember,
we’ll stroll hand in hand again
In the twilight I’ll remember
The thing is ye see about Sammy’s situation, the way he thought about things, who knows, it wasnay something ye could get yer head round. Hard to explain. Then these things as well that draw ye in then push ye away I mean fuck sake great, alright ye think alright, it’s good man, it’s okay, I mean who’s gony fucking moan about it, there’s nay moan on, it’s just being practical, realistic, ye’ve just to be realistic, ye approach things in a down-to-earth manner. I mean Sammy was never a moaner.
Fucking hell but it was still a surprise, ye’re surprised by stuff; ordinary stuff – this is what gets ye. Plus yer life itself, if ye want to talk about that I mean that’s a fucking mystery as well. Except each time ye hit the bottom bit it takes longer to get round, to pass back out. Sometimes it’s by the skin of the teeth ye’re holding on, yer fucking eyes clenched shut, yer ears
thinking ye’re fuckt but ye’re no. Sex is a help. Cause it means ye’re fucking alive. Know what I’m talking about, like it or no man ye’re alive, ye’re still in there kicking. A fucking hardon man it can get ye out of trouble: ye go, Fuck sake, well well well, here I am. Jesus christ!
Cause without the sex ye wouldnay know it. It’s true but. That was something Sammy noticed a lot. Without the sex ye’re nothing, ye’re just fucking – who knows man just ye’re fuckt, ye hit the bevy; ye do some dope; whatever. Sometimes ye just sit there or ye lie down; ye’re stuck in the depths, ye’re so far gone there’s nothing there at all, just a fucking blank. One long blank. It gets interrupted by wee clear patches. And in these wee clear patches there’s a bit of ye trying to find a way out like ye’re angling for the means to escape, to get yerself on the mend. There’s another way ye know ye’re on the mend, that’s when ye find yerself humming a tune. Sammy had a conversation with somebody once, no a conversation, the other person was talking and Sammy was listening. It was a visitor. A guy; some Prison Education Officer. A nice person but, considering; he was alright. Anyhow, he’s telling Sammy about a mind experience ye undergo. Ye’ve got to undergo it. If ye dont then that’s you knackt. That was what he said anyway. It was to do with religion. It’s like a boom inside yer head, he says.
Boom boom eh. There was this other yin used to give him lectures, a right fucking windbag so he was I mean this cunt
Ach who cares, who gives a fuck, who fucking gives a fuck. Sammy was weary. Come on, ye’re allowed to get weary, lying in fucking blackness with that fucking stupit radio, all these fucking stupit voices that make ye think of double-helpings of fucking raspberry fucking trifle man with lumps of fresh dairy cream, their voices man telling you, that’s what like they sound, fresh fucking dairy cream from the minute they open their eyes to the day they drop down dead, fucking bastards; and ye keep thinking of these guys ye know that arenay around any longer: one that got done in, he was due a parole; he was all set for it, he went about the place with a big smile on his face, when ye caught him unawares, smiling at nothing till he saw ye looking and he would go dead-pan; if ye spoke to him he kept it serious, he had to keep it serious – trying like fuck no to show how optimistic he was feeling cause it might tempt fate man fuck sake that was what it was, poor bastard, that was what he was fucking worried about, fate. But fucking hell, he was so christ ye know it’s hard to say it because how d’ye know if ye’ve never felt it; no like that guy had felt it; he had stuff going for him different from Sammy – Sammy had blew his life early – but this guy hadnay, he had his missis waiting, a young family, babies and all that shit, he was a cockney. Jesus christ. Then the big day comes – well, it was actually a couple of days afore it – and they found him, in round the back of the laundry, where the pipes were, the boiler-room, in there, that was where they found him; the team had let him have it. And that can fuck ye; every way.
Ah rubbish. Ye aye get by. Who cares man, fucking eedjit, it was his own fault anyway, the guy knew the fucking rules and he fucking abused them man so that was that, end of story.
Sammy was sitting there.
The posture: on the couch with the radio on, the hand under the chin and hunched forwards, thinking about fuck all really except all these stupit memories out of nowhere.
we’ll stroll hand in hand again
What was gony happen to him but that was the real question. That was the one he wasnay asking. No seriously. But it was like the basic thing of it was there in his head, it just couldnay materialise; maybe it was him stopping it. His thumb was propping up his chin. His lower jaw dropped and he stuck it back up, his teeth meeting with a clunking noise; the skin under the chin felt loose, fleshy. The heat from the fire on his face. He shifted position. His back was getting sore again; he wondered what like his body looked. One thought edging its way into his brain, whether he liked it or no, it was about Helen, if she didnay come back he was fuckt. That was that. He was fucking finished. He was. It was gone, whatever it was, it was gone. For a kick-off he would have to leave the house. It was in her name. He would have to go skippering for fuck sake unless maybe something to do with the sightloss maybe ye got special homeless points if ye had went blind. They maybe gave ye a room somewhere. In a special building. Maybe the Blind Asylum. If there was a Blind Asylum. Naybody had said there wasnay. It’s no as if he was fucking special but man I mean he wasnay earmarked for nay fucking glory. So there had to be a place, some sort of central agency where all these sightloss fuckers got a piece of fucking sanctuary man know what I’m talking about, ye think of it, all ower the country ye’ve got these cunts tapping their way about. So there had to be a place.
cause as things were
/> as things were he was fuckt. If it had been a joint occupancy he would have been fine. But it wasnay. It was in her name only. Anything else would have fuckt the giro. Bad enough with all these spook bastards sniffing around trying to suss ye out. Hitting that DSS with a fresh claim man it was risky, it was aye fucking risky; risky business. Ye were better steering clear – if ye could afford it; the trouble is Sammy couldnay; the options werenay there.
Fuck it, he had to get going, he had to get going; he would get going, it just took a while to get started; it’s no he was lazy, he wasnay lazy, he just needed time to sort things out; once he had that right he could move as fast as any cunt; in fact sometimes he moved too fast for his own fucking good; that was how come he was in this situation. Typical, fucking typical. Nay wonder he didnay like moving fast man see when he did, he fucking
he fuckt things man, he just fuckt things, he fuckt things up.
Plus that radio was driving him nuts.
He turned it off. He found a cassette. But he didnay stick it in. He stood up and wiggled his shoulders about. Exercise is what he needed. He opened the the window two notches. Good feeling the wind and the air. Sometimes it was like the smell of the sea was in yer nostrils, probably it wasnay, but ye never know, Glasgow was quite close to the sea.
Unless it was his fucking feet man they must have been pure fucking mawkit. One thing about this being blind; there was that much going on ye didnay have time to think about nothing else. He felt like a pint and he had the money for a taxi to Glancy’s, but he wasnay going. He couldnay face people; no yet. Plus he would have to explain the situation. He couldnay be bothered, he just couldnay be bothered. He had thought he might find out about Saturday but fuck it, what did it matter, it didnay fucking matter, either it was there or it wasnay.
Then knowing all these cunts were staring at ye and shaking their heads. All that fucking bullshit. Fuck it man.
It was Helen.
And there was that terrible sick feeling in the gut again and he clenched the eyelids tight shut man man man oh jesus his hands covering his eyes. There was something wrong man there was something bloody wrong it was all through him, he felt it, he couldnay get rid of it at all it was fucking there, right fucking there like it was smothering him from the inside out the way filling his fucking head. It was worse than he thought, definitely worse than he thought. Things man, they were fucking bad, they were bad
