Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (12 page)
“Name?”
“Johnboy Taylor.”
“Age?”
“Ten and a hauf.”
“Right, Taylor…wan word ae warning. They ears ae yers better be open because Ah’m no gonnae repeat masel. Any bother oot ae ye and ye’ll get that arse ae yers belted so hard that ye won’t be able tae sit doon fur a bloody week. Hiv ye goat that?”
“Aye.”
“Did ye jist say aye? Aye whit?”
“Aye, Ah’ve goat that.”
The big lanky basturt wis fast, bit no fast enough. Johnboy felt Tartan Tie’s haun whizzing past his heid as he ducked. He wis ready fur the next wan as well, so he barely hid tae move and wae a wee backward hauf-step, wis well oot ae range. Johnboy looked aboot fur an escape route bit the only wan wis oot the door that he’d jist come through, which led back intae the wagon. The two bizzies jist stood there, leaning oan the reception door, taking everything in. Johnboy didnae know if it wis because he’d an audience or because Johnboy hid jist goat the better ae him, bit Tartan Tie’s clipboard clattered oan tae the clickity-clack boy’s good polished flair and his two hauns started up like a propeller oan tae each side ae Johnboy’s face, while Johnboy ducked and dived. It only lasted aboot ten seconds before the slapping stoapped as quickly as it hid started. Tartan Tie stood there google-eyed, puffing and panting.
“See the shite we hiv tae put up wae in here?” he panted tae the fat jollies staunin in the door, enjoying themsels.
“If ye think that’s bad, check oot ma good door,” The Twitcher said, nodding tae the big dark blue metal door lying oan the flair ae the wagon, goosed.
“Anyway, Ah cannae staun aboot here chit-chatting aw day. Ah’ll see ye the morra, boys.” Tartan Tie said, picking up his clipboard.
“Aye, nae bother, Slapper,” they baith chirped, as Slapper shut o’er the door and turned tae Johnboy.
“You, ya cheeky wee basturt, ye. Any mair lip oot ae that mooth ae yers and ye’ll feel ma haun oan the other side ae that ugly coupon ye call a face. Noo, get that manky arse alang that corridor and plap it doon oan that chair beside the CP.”
Johnboy hidnae a clue whit he wis oan aboot, bit he heided in the direction ae the pointed erm and plapped his arse doon beside the boy who wis sitting there, staring intae space. Efter gieing the clickity clack boy a slap oan the back ae the heid and telling him he wanted a better shine oan the flair, Slapper breezed past Johnboy and disappeared through the office door opposite them. Johnboy looked aboot. He could hear kitchen noises coming doon the stairs at the reception end and the distant sounds ae people somewhere else. Suddenly the door wis yanked open and Slapper reappeared and clicked his fingers at the two boys. They jist sat there blinking.
“You, Dafty...aye, you, stupid face...get in here.”
Johnboy looked at his silent pal as the baith ae them stood up thegither.
“No you, ginger-nut, it’s yer pal...in here, quick!”
Johnboy sat there listening tae the clickity clack ae the boy at the far end ae the corridor. He wished Tony or Joe wur there wae him. The door opposite suddenly swung open and Slapper led the quiet boy across the corridor intae another room before turning and jerking his thumb fur Johnboy tae go intae the first room.
“Take yer shoes aff and staun o’er there beside that measuring pole,” a big fat wummin in a white coat said, no looking at Johnboy. “Right, Ah don’t want any lip, jist straight answers tae simple questions, okay?”
“Aye.”
“Whit did Ah jist say tae ye?”
“Ye said...”
“See, there ye go again. Whit did Ah jist say?”
He goat the message loud and clear and kept that trap ae his shut as she lumbered fae behind her desk. Slapper returned and haunded her a broon folder, which she opened. She took oot some sheets ae paper and lay them oan the desk, withoot looking at them.
“Height, hmm...” she muttered as she wrote something oan a wee card.
“Teeth, hmm...” she muttered again, as she squeezed open Johnboy’s gub wae the fingers ae her haun clasped oan either side ae his cheeks, looking at the tap and bottom.
“Right, drap yer troosers,” she mumbled, grabbing Johnboy by his Kerr’s Pinks. “Cough, hmm...”
Johnboy bloody hated that. It reminded him ae Pat Broon, The Green Lady, who wis furever turning up at his hoose in search ae nits tae crush and wee boys hee-haws tae get a grip ae. Whit wis wrang wae aw these wummin in uniforms, he wis thinking tae himsel, no waiting tae be telt tae pick up his kecks.
“Sit o’er there oan that seat under the lamp. Hmm...” she groaned, pulling doon a big light which wis attached tae a spring, using her fat thumb tae separate the hair behind his lugs. “Bloody louping. There’s a surprise, hmm...”
The next minute he wis in the room across the corridor. It smelled ae a mixture between the scabies clinic and a cat’s pish box.
“Aha, another jungle juice customer, eh? Right, get intae that shower o’er there and gie yersel a good scrub,” A wee skinny bald-heided eagle said, eyeing him up.
When Johnboy came oot, his good, manky five-o-wans and his other stuff hid disappeared. He put oan the uniform that wis sitting waiting fur him oan a chair, which consisted ae a vest, shirt, pants, corduroy shorts, broon socks and a pair ae sandshoes.
“Right, o’er here, Tarzan,” Dr Juice said. “Bend yer heid intae that sink, face first.”
Johnboy could feel aw his wee nit pals running fur cover. It smelled the same as the stuff his maw put oan him at hame oan a Sunday night, only stronger.
Efter unlocking the doors opposite the reception wans he’d arrived through, Johnboy and the quiet boy followed Slapper. They wur in a corridor that hid windaes running either side ae it doon its whole length, at aboot heid height. Oan his left, he could see a big yard. This must be the yard that Skull, Tony and Joe hid telt him aboot, that they used tae try and escape oot ae. Before they heided through the corridor intae another area wae corridors leading aff tae the left and right, he clocked the wee low roof oan his left that Tony hid tried tae nip o’er sometime in the past before being caught. Slapper hidnae uttered a word tae them as they heided straight fur a door in front ae them withoot breaking his stride. When it opened, a cloud ae smoke burst oot, followed by the noise ae aboot a hunner voices.
“Right, in ye go!” Slapper growled, jerking his thumb towards the noise.
When Johnboy stepped through the door, there wis aboot a dozen big boys, aw staunin, leaning against the walls, smoking fags in a wee corridor. He walked between them and intae a big hall. The place wis teeming wae boys, aw sitting or staunin in groups, aw roond the edges ae the flair. While it hidnae gone silent when he entered, it hid definitely gone a lot quieter. He wisnae too sure whit tae dae or whit wis expected ae him. There wur two teachers staunin at the entrance and two wur walking up and doon the middle ae the hall. Maist ae the boys in the groups wur playing some sort ae game that involved throwing up wee stanes and catching them. The jungle juice oan his napper wis reeking and caught the attention ae the group tae his left.
“Fur fuck’s sake, open the windae,” a wee blond boy said, waving his haun back and forth in front ae his face, tae the laughter ae his mates.
Johnboy failed tae recognise anywan, even when he thought he heard his name being shouted fae the far end. Suddenly, a skinny boy came towards him fae the tap left haun corner ae the hall. Johnboy could see the group he wis wae, aw looking doon at him.
“Johnboy? It’s me, Paul.”
Johnboy instantly felt his body relaxing. It wis at that moment that he knew everything wis gonnae be awright. It hid been Paul McBride who’d goat caught in the midden behind The McAslin Bar, alang wae Joe McManus, the night Johnboy hid broken intae his first shoap oan St James Road. As soon as Paul said his name, Johnboy instantly recognised him.
“Paul? Christ, Ah wis hoping ye wid recognise me. Thank God Ah know somewan in here.”
“Aye, c’mone, ye’re o’er here wae us,” he said, as Johnboy followed him back up tae the far corner and sat doon.
“This is Johnboy. He wis wae me the night Joe and me goat caught tanning the shoap that Ah’m in fur. Johnboy, this ugly bunch ae dickheids ur Bean, Chazza, Minky, Charlie and Freckles.”
“Aw naw, no another bloody Manky…that’s aw we fucking need,” the wan called Chazza scowled tae laughter fae the others.
“How ur ye aw daeing?” Johnboy said, looking at them aw.
“Awright, wee man?”
“Join the party.”
They aw seemed fine enough, even though they wur Uglies fae Royston and the Garngad, who fur years hid terrorised Johnboy and aw his pals in the queue ootside the Carlton and Casino picture hooses every Saturday since he wis a wee snapper.
“So, whit ur ye in fur then?” wan ae them asked Johnboy.
Johnboy telt them aboot the copper sheets and how he’d goat fourteen days detention which they aw laughed aboot.
“Aye, that Gucci wan never gets caught fur a fucking thing, dis he?” the wan called Minky said, tae mair laughter.
“So, whit happened wae Skull, Johnboy?” Paul finally asked, as aw eyes turned tae him. “We never hear a bloody thing in here.”
Even though there hid been a racket gaun oan aw roond aboot them, ye could’ve heard a pin drap o’er in their corner when Johnboy telt them aboot the cabin burning doon wae Skull and Elvis in it.
“That’s they fucking Murphy pricks right doon tae a T. They’re well-known fur that. Sell ye doos wan minute, and the next, they get some shite-hoose tae come and blag them,” wan ae them said, scattering his wee stanes amongst the group sitting next tae them, who aw instantly ducked, bit didnae retaliate.
Johnboy telt them aboot the Murphys trapping them in the closemooth efter they’d checked oot the cabin fae The Martyrs’ Church and them denying any involvement.
“Ah widnae believe a word they say. They fuckers done it, ye kin be sure ae that,” Freckles growled.
“Poor Skull,” wan ae them said, as everywan nodded.
“There’s a rumour gaun roond the Toonheid that it wisnae The Murphys, bit the bizzies,” Johnboy said.
Silence.
“Nah. Ma money’s still oan they Murphy pricks,” Freckles said tae nods.
“Why dae ye say that?” Paul asked, aw heids swivelling back tae Freckles.
“Look at everything we get up tae? Tanning shoaps, stripping lead aff ae buildings, burning places doon and aw that. Christ, youse manky basturts hiv nothing oan whit we get up tae. Other than a boot up the arse and a pummelling efter they lift us, that’s aboot it. If it wis them that torched the cabin, they widnae hiv been aware that Skull and Elvis wur in it.”
“The ladder wis up,” Johnboy reminded them. “As far as Ah know, The Murphys never left the ladder up efter leaving the cabin and we never did either, even though we only hid it fur a couple ae days.”
“Ah’m still no convinced,” Freckles sniffed.
“That pair ae sergeant basturts hauncuffed me and Joe tae the back ae their Black Maria and fucking tortured us fur aboot hauf an hour, so they did. If it hidnae been fur some auld watchman arriving oan the scene, who knows whit they wid’ve done,” Paul reminded them.
“Aye, bit ye’re still here. If they wanted tae bump youse aff, ye wid’ve disappeared long before noo.”
“Aye, well, Ah
widnae know aboot that,” Paul said, looking across at Johnboy.
Johnboy telt them aboot whit hid been gaun oan since Paul hid goat lifted. He telt them aboot the daily run-ins wae the big sergeant and Crisscross, the skelly-eyed plod. Everywan chipped in wae an even funnier story than the last wan aboot how that pair ae eejits couldnae catch a cauld. Johnboy filled them in aboot the doos and getting the cabin, leaving oot the bit aboot them tanning the Murphys’ loft and blagging aw their good Horsemen Thief Pouters. The boys shared doo stories that involved Skull, and recounted the story aboot Tony tanning Mad Malky fae Possil’s windae box and how Malky’s dug nearly chewed through Tony’s wrist when he stuck his haun forward and snatched a nice wee hen.
“So, whit else is happening ootside then, Johnboy?”
Johnboy went oan tae tell them aboot the mass escape fae the van earlier. That cheered everywan up.
“That’s bloody brilliant, so it is. Baby, Tottie and Patsy, ye said?”
“Aye.”
“Ah hope the eejits get caught. We could dae wae this place being livened up.”
“Right, Johnboy. Hiv ye ever played five stanes?” Paul asked him, changing the subject.
“Naw, ye’ll need tae teach me.”
“Nae bother. Ye’re oan their team,” he replied, laughing and nodding across tae Freckles, Minky and Bean.
Chapter Thirteen
Everywan wis sitting or lounging aboot in the yard the next morning. Johnboy’s crowd wur up at the tap, sitting against the wall, facing doon towards the wee corridor building that led up fae the reception area tae the gym hall. There must’ve been aboot twenty-odd groups, or gangs, aw scattered aboot, huddled thegither, playing five stanes. As well as the younger Uglies fae the Garngad and Royston, who Johnboy sat wae, there wur a couple ae aulder circles, aged aboot fifteen or sixteen fae the same area. Maist ae the aulder Shamrock boys wur in fur breach ae the peace, carrying offensive weapons or hid been charged wae mair serious things like chibbing guys during gang fights in the toon centre. Whit wis obvious tae everywan in the place wis that the Shamrock boys wur in the majority. It didnae take Johnboy long tae suss oot the rules ae Five Stanes, the game everywan played. Each player, when their turn came, hid tae toss up the five stanes, then try to catch the five ae them oan the back ae their haun. If ye caught the five in wan go, flicked them back up in the air and then caught them, ye moved up tae the big wansies. If ye didnae catch them aw, ye hid tae toss up wan stane and catch it oan the back ae yer haun while ye scrambled tae pick up another wan, before catching the wan ye hid in mid-air until ye hid them aw in yer haun. Wance ye cleared aw the single stanes, ye moved up tae whit they called the big stanes and repeated whit ye’d done wae the single stanes. The only difference wis that ye hid tae pick up and catch two oan the back ae yer haun when ye tossed the stanes up. Efter that, ye kept moving up tae catching three and four stanes oan the back ae yer haun. If ye failed tae catch the exact number, ye wur oot until yer next turn came roond. Ye hid tae try tae make sure the stanes that ye didnae catch oan the back ae yer haun stayed close thegither when they landed oan the ground. Wherever they landed, wis where they’d tae be picked up fae in wan final scoop while the stanes that hid been flicked up aff ae the back ae yer haun wur still in mid-air. So, if ye hid two stanes lying a distance fae each other, ye hid tae toss up two stanes fae the back ae yer haun and, at the same time, sweep the two scattered wans up, before catching the tossed stanes oan the way doon. Ye wur allowed tae move them closer by repeating the tossing movement. Wance ye goat tae the big wansies, twos, threes, fours and fives, the stanes stood where they wur drapped and couldnae be touched apart fae swiping up the number ae stanes that ye wur oan at that part ae the game. The first wan tae reach the big fives wis the winner. There wis a lot ae shouting, swearing and laughter. The game wis only played amongst yer ain crowd. Although Paul and the other Garngad and Royston crowd knew other boys fae other areas ae Glesga who wur in the place, they wur never invited tae play the game wae them. Everywan kept tae themsels. Johnboy wis always knocked oot first because he wis jist a learner, so that first week, he usually jist sat and watched.
Johnboy hid been put intae dorm eleven. The quiet boy who’d sat beside him doon in the reception corridor wis in there as well. Johnboy never really noticed him gaun aboot during the day, probably because he wis too busy enjoying himsel. He’d only clocked him that first night in the dorm, jist before the lights went oot. He looked like a scared cat in amongst a bunch ae dugs. Oan Johnboy’s second morning there, he noticed that the quiet boy hid been forced tae make up the boy’s bed across fae him, as well as his ain bed. It wis also later that same morning that the baith ae them wur taken doon tae a classroom at the bottom ae the corridor, opposite their dorm corridor, tae see a mind-bender. Tae get tae the classroom, they passed by the same dorm set-up as their ain. Aw the tap covers oan the beds wur covered in wee blue diamond patterns wae wan big blue ‘Larchgrove’ badge woven intae the middle ae them. When ye made yer bed in the morning, the badge hid tae be bang oan in the centre so that it allowed six wee diamonds oan either side ae it tae be seen fae the edge ae the bed. Five oan wan side and seven oan the other side ae that big diamond jist widnae dae. It hid tae be six and six.
Johnboy and the quiet wan hid sat in silence efter being allocated a table each. They watched the mind-bender, wae his thick black Irn Bru bottle-bottomed glasses and his pirate beard, shuffle oot some cards as if they wur aboot tae play a game ae pontoons.
“Right, who’s first?”
Silence.
“C’mone, Ah hivnae goat aw day.”
Silence.
“Right, you, ginger nut. Aye, you, get yer arse o’er here,” the beardy wallah commanded, still shuffling the cards.
Johnboy looked behind himsel tae make sure it wis him he wis talking tae.
“Aye, you, ya glaikit eejit, ye. Get that arse ae yers in gear.”
Silence.
“Fur Christ’s sake. Ah kin see this is gonnae be a long morning. Right, you, the other wan? Whit wan ur you?”
“Samuel Smith, sir.”
“Aw aye, right, Smith, the orphan. Ah should’ve known yer pal sitting there wisnae a CP by the look ae him. Right, ye’ll dae. Get o’er here and plap that arse ae yers doon oan this chair in front ae me.”
Johnboy sat there wondering whit wis gaun oan, although it wisnae aw a waste ae time. He could see oot ae the big classroom windae, o’er tae the perimeter wall that surrounded the main building. He could see the tap windaes ae double-decker buses speeding past fae right tae left and could see some hooses at the side, wae a big spiked fence backing oan tae them. Ye couldnae see this fence fae inside the rest ae the building. He remembered Tony telling him how he’d tried tae escape o’er the roof fae the yard when he’d been oan remand in The Grove in the past. Fae where Johnboy wis sitting, he reckoned that if Tony hid managed tae get o’er the wee roof, that’s where he’d hiv heided fur.
“Right, here’s whit we dae. Ah show ye a card and ye tell me whit ye see, okay? So, here ye go,” The Wallah said, flipping o’er a card oan tae the desk.
The orphan looked at it and said nothing.
“Whit dae ye see?”
“Ah don’t know.”
“Try again.”
“A big smudge.”
“Naw, apart fae whit looks like a smudge, whit else dae ye see in the smudge?”
“Black ink.”
“Dae ye? Where?” The Wallah asked, getting interested fur hauf a second. “That’s because it is ink. That’s whit they use tae print the shape, ya dafty, ye. Try again.”
“A drip.”
“Ah, right, that’s a start. See, Ah telt ye it wis an easy game, eh?”
Efter that, there wis no haudin the quiet wan back. There wis a ship, a train, vomit, spilt soup, cabbage, fireworks, a chimney, a coffin, a haun, an ear, two left feet, wire wool. You name it, he clocked it. Johnboy found himsel thinking that these eejits must’ve thought that they wur aw daft…showing them pictures ae trains and bowls ae soup and thinking they widnae be able tae tell them whit the fuck it wis they wur looking at. Efter twenty minutes, he jist aboot shot oot ae his seat like a bullet when his turn came.
“So, ye must be Taylor then,” The Bearded Wallah said, putting away the quiet wan’s score card and notes in the bag oan the flair behind him, before shuffling the pontoon cards.
“Right, whit dae ye see?”
Silence.
“C’mone,” The Wallah insisted, clearly starting tae get impatient.
Silence.
“So, whit dae ye see then?” he repeated.
Johnboy peered closely at the card again.
“A big smudge.”
“Fur Christ’s sake!”
“Okay, black ink then.”
“Ur ye taking the piss oot ae me, laddie?”
