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.