Greyhound for Breakfast (17 page)

Mister Chambers!

Auld Doughball was looking down at him.

Mister Chambers! Are you with us? Have you kindly consented to rejoin the fold? Mister Chambers, would you be so courteous as to indicate . . .

What was he on about? Auld Doughball – this great big plook thing on the side of his neck and it wobbled when he spoke, the vibrations from his chin and his jaws.

He just shouldnt’ve been at school and that was that, that was just really it, it was plain, plain, he shouldnt’ve been there. His da had started as an apprentice at this age. In
less than a year he would be old enough to get married. Old enough to get married. Mr and Mrs Chambers. I shall take this woman as my lawful wedded wife. Tracy McCall! She really didnt fancy him
but. She was in a different world. There were lies as well about her getting groped but they were lies. It made your belly turn over to even think about it. That was what they did but, the way they
spoke about you. They did it with everybody. They just seemed to pick on a person and then that was that and you couldnt do anything about it. Mainly it was the lassies. They were saying about
Tracy down the club you could just feel her tit and she would let you, she would kid on she wanted you to stop but didnt. They did it about anybody. The best thing was to kid on just that it didnt
matter, you didnt hear it or something, just kid on you didnt hear anything and you didnt know anything about it. Lassies were like that in a way, they could start acting as if they didnt know a
thing you were talking about. And it was best, it was really best.

Mister Chambers?

Yes Mister McDougall.

Do you have a grandfather?

Gary looked at him.

Does Mister Chambers have a grandfather? Class?

Auld Doughball. What was he on about with that stupid big plook on the side of his neck, he had a cheek to even speak. That sarcasm, it was really terrible. Sometimes you felt like fucking
punching him right on the mouth the way he did it to you. A lot of it was the name, Mister Chambers. Other teachers as well, they loved to say it, just to say it in that really sarcastic way.

Did you have a grandfather. What was that supposed to mean? It was history about the 2nd World War right enough so that’s probably what it was about, if he had a grandfather that was in
it. 15 was a good age to start work. That was when his da started. And it wasnt just Gary thinking he was ready because so did his maw; and his da as well; the pair of them. He was actually bigger
than his da – it was terrible saying it but he was. What age was his grandfather when he started? Maybe only fourteen. What his da was saying the other night, what was it? what his da was
saying the other night, about nowadays the boys are all bigger but they’ve got to be younger. What was that? What did that mean? It was about them being bigger and having to stay on at school
longer, to do with them no growing up or something because they dont do any work and just hang about and all that. His great-grandfather was thirteen. Thirteen years of age and out working six days
a week. There was a photo of him as a boy and he was wearing a bunnet and his jacket was really tight. You could actually get married at thirteen in different parts of the world even just now.
There was that new boy as well in 3c who got Lesley Denham pregnant. He was just turned fourteen and he didnt tell anybody, he just kept it to himself. A wee baby boy the lassie had and then the
two of them got put into different schools. That would suit Gary, it’d be really brilliant, just getting sent to a different school away from everything. Except maybe he would end up in the
same place as that guy who was after him. It was a stupid thing. In the Amusements and then just out of nothing and he had to get off his mark right away, and he was just on his own but the other
guy had a couple of mates and it would’ve been trouble. Gary didnt want to fight him. It was stupid. He didnt like fighting anyway. Except sometimes, sometimes there was that tingle.

The desks!

Auld Doughball sitting on the edge of his stool, making a big show of watching the time then calling: Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, late as usual . . . Now just walk,
just walk . . .

RRrrrinnggggg.

Hey Chanty! It was Smit.

Gary glared at him and he whispered, Shut your fucking mouth you.

Smit laughed.

Gary’s face had gone red and he punched Smit hard on the shoulder. I told you before, dont you fucking call me that.

Aw come on you! Smit had stepped back and was rubbing his shoulder.

Give us a fag! said Gary.

I’ve no got any . . . Smit was still wincing and rubbing the shoulder.

Fucking liar! Gary turned away from him, continued along the corridor and down the stairs, banging against the tiled wall with his left shoulder on each successive step. The rest of the class
were ahead now, a few of the guys going fast toward the back of the toilets for a quick drag. Gary glanced behind.

Smit stopped walking at once and called: You going for a smoke?

I thought you didnt have any fags!

I’ve no.

Fucking liar! Gary grabbed him by the wrist. Who’s got them then?

Big Hammy, he’s got twenty.

Twenty?

He might give us one.

How do you know he’s got twenty?

I saw them.

Liar!

I’m no; honest.

Gary strode on through the swing doors and out across the playground, Smit coming several paces behind him. It was mobbed at the back of the toilets. Between there and the back of the school
wall there was a gap of about 6 feet. On top of the wall were layers and layers of black grease which the janitors put down to stop people climbing over. Gary pushed his way through the different
groups, seeing Big Hammy and the guys about halfway along. Smit was already in at a group and a guy was letting him have a drag but without leaving go the fag so that Smit wasnt even able to get a
proper hold on it. Gary got in nearer to Big Hammy and he jerked his head at the cigarette he was smoking: Eh Hammy, any chance of a fag?

A fag! Big Hammy grinned, giving a look of surprise, but got him one out, and added, Dont say I’m no good to you.

You still owe me a million!

That’ll be fucking right!

Gary borrowed another guy’s cigarette to get a light for his own. Smit was in the background now, peering over somebody’s shoulder and making a sign which Gary kidded on he didnt
see, and he said to Big Hammy: Were you out last night?

Nah.

Did you watch the game on the telly?

Big Hammy shook his head briefly. Then he smiled and poked one of the boys next to Gary. If it’s your fucking birthday the morrow how come you’re no having a party? Eh? Big Hammy
laughed at the others: I bet ye he hardly even gets a fucking bevy!

You kidding! said the guy.

We’ll see, said Big Hammy.

Gary was blowing out smoke, he shut his eyes for a split second, getting that lightheaded feeling. Somebody else was saying something about the football match being played tonight, and another
guy was nipping his cigarette and sticking it away and then one by one the others were finishing their smokes. On the way back he tagged behind a bit, traversing the playground in a sort of arc and
making it last into the science block. Smit was by the foot of the staircase and he called. You’re going to be late!

Gary didnt acknowledge him. Smit waited and when the other passed him by to walk upstairs he whispered, You dogging it this afternoon Gary?

But Gary didnt acknowledge this either. He continued walking. It was pointless encouraging Smit or you never got rid of him. At one time he spoke ordinary to him but it wasnt worth it because
all he did was talk nonstop and as well as that he was always there, you couldnt get rid of him. Even at the house; he used to come up for Gary at 8 o’clock in the morning. A right idiot. He
wasnt really bad, not totally bad, it was just Gary couldnt be bothered having to listen to people, it got on your nerves. And then as well having them beside you all the time, sitting at the same
desk for instance, really terrible, an uncomfortable feeling, no being able to move about, having to watch your elbows, keeping them in, and your knees, having to keep them in as well in case they
banged into them. Sometimes just hearing them breathe was enough. You were working away and it was silence and then you heard them breathing, and sometimes their nose, you wanted to tell them to
blow their nose. Even lassies, their noses sometimes, you could hear them, no blowing them till the very last minute. It was a wonder how they did that. How did they no just blow them straight
away? Unless they didnt have a hanky. And no having pockets either a lot of them, just their bags full of stuff. Sometimes you kicked it and you’d see all the piles of stuff come tumbling
out, and packets of pads. That was a thing he would have hated, being a lassie, terrible. Getting periods, the blood coming out; it was caused by eggs, once they were pregnant they were fertilized.
Just thinking about it was enough. And some husbands stayed in to watch the birth as well. You saw the baby covered in a jelly stuff, the face all wrinkled and purple looking and crying away unless
it wasnt right and had to get smacked first by the doctor.

One of chemistry and dinner. That was a mistake, taking chemistry. He shouldnt’ve done it, it was even worse than music. Music was the daftest thing of the lot but too late now to drop it.
There was nothing he could do except just stick it out and just think about it as a subject he was going to fail. It meant it was one less thing to worry about. He had enough on his plate. And the
way they were expecting as well you’d be staying in and studying at night-time, it was beyond talking about, it wasnt even funny. That thing you did you just found something to concentrate
on, anything, a wee stain or a name or anything, just so’s you could concentrate your mind right away, you’re running through the middle with the ball at your feet and the big defender
comes sliding in and you tap it on and run round the other side and pick it up again and stop dead and let the next one go sliding by, and you’re on now and just at the eighteen-yard line;
there’s the goalie, he’s jumping from side to side and now coming rushing out with the hands up and all set to dive at your feet and then he does it and you hit the ball with a lot of
swerve and it just creeps in at the far post; too easy, too easy, and you turn and give a wee wave to the crowd, not showing off about it and you just stroll back for the restart, shaking hands a
couple of times, the guys patting you on the back. And what else you’ve got you’ve got a boat, a cabin cruiser you can sail anywhere you like or a big yacht or what else, a corner kick
and you’re hovering about on the eighteen-yard line and when the cross comes over you meet it first time on the volley and see it go bulleting into the top righthand corner of the net; what a
goal! a cracker! the keeper had no chance! no chance. And what was bad as well was how if you didnt get into the school team you were an idiot, that was you and you’d be as well just chucking
it altogether. Sometimes you had to kid on you didnt even feel like playing, as if you didnt even feel like playing and werent even really interested, and when you passed the gym and saw the names
on the notice-board, always having to look just to fucking see what it was, that was terrible, it was something that was really really terrible. And his da was disappointed. You couldnt explain
either. This is what was bad about it. The way it worked, if you tried to explain it, how they picked the team. They didnt even really care who got put in and who got left out. It was like
favourites, they just took the ones they liked and then left out the other ones, the ones they didnt like. It wasnt even that either; they just didnt really care, it was plain. They seemed to make
up their mind you were rubbish and that was that and they would just more or less never see you again or else be sarcastic all the time, treating you like an idiot, the same as Doughball McDougall
and even when you got a good mark in your test they acted like it was a kind of mistake and didnt take any notice. He was totally sick of it now. He just shouldnt’ve been there any longer.
There again but, jobs. What was he going to work at? In a garage or something, that would be good. Some of the guys that did it got motors out for the weekend and they could just drive about the
place. You got your licence at 17. A motor bike would be good as well and you didnt need to wait; it was really fast and nobody to bother you, just sitting on it yourself, unless maybe you had a
lassie and you just shot off into the country for an outing, or down the seaside and the two of you going in for a swim. Even with Tracy, all you did was ask her and see and if it was a good sunny
day she would say aye, or else naw, if she was going out with another guy. She was in a different world but, it was all older guys, some of them left school, and her and her mates went to the pub
as well sometimes. It was easier when you were a lassie – everything. You just had to stand there and just wait. But if you were a boy you had to go out, it was more difficult, you couldnt
just stand there, even knowing how to start, if you were a boy, you had to start, what did you do did you just feel the tit? These things you never seem to find out properly, you’re never
totally sure if it’s right, if the lassie’s thinking you’re an idiot. In one book he got seeing the guy just straight away sticks his hand up her skirt and she’s so
surprised she just lets him, she just lets him do it. The very thought and you had to jam your eyes shut and switch off your brain or your hardon, you jammed shut the eyes because of the pants,
thinking about that and a lassie like Lesley Denham, if you got stuck into her class in a different school, you had to shut off the eyes and switch off the brain and enter into a different
dimension altogether, concentrating the mind like convicts did in their jail cells, the whole world linked inside their heads and they can control their thoughts to take them where they want. The
old guys who’ve been in for life-sentences tell them how to do it, they pass it on from man to man because otherwise they’d all crack up, they’d go crazy.