Poking Seaweed with a Stick and Running Away from the Smell

by Alison Whitelock

  Then suddenly, from the pea soup, Mum and Nanny could hear the clip clop, clip clop of two coconut shells being banged together. As the sound got closer they realised it was Doctor Cassidy’s horse’s hooves outside on the wee footpath leading up to the front door of the cottage, accompanied by the slow murmur of the engine of the single-decker bus as my da and Doctor Cassidy arrived on the scene together, albeit too late, for my arrival. They raced inside only to discover mother, Nanny and baby were all doing just fine without anybody’s help, thank you very much, and Doctor Cassidy was none too chuffed, as you can imagine, being prised from her bed on such a pea souper only to arrive on the scene to find the job done by the grandmother of all people. And so the silly big cow took the huff and turned on her heels and fumbled her way back through the fog, mounted her steed and fucked off in a right temper.

  My da, exhausted by the whole proceedings, lay down on the couch and fell asleep as Mum and Nanny looked at each other and wondered what men were made of these days. He fell asleep with his mouth wide open and Mum was tempted to feed him the afterbirth, but decided it was too good for him and asked Nanny to fry it up and feed it to the dogs instead.

  The next morning, I woke Mum early and she filled an empty two-litre Treetop Orange bottle with milk and stuck a tit on the end of it and I sucked away on that until I fell asleep right there in her arms. She held me close to her heart and stepped outside where the soothing wind blew through her long golden hair and it felt good.

  And now she had another wee life to care for, as if she didn’t have problems enough, what with him and his drinking and his womanising.

  The fog, now more a consommé, had lifted a good deal and Mum could make out the barn and the dry-stane dyke at the far end of the green land. The clean fresh air felt cool in her lungs and as she looked down, she noticed that Doctor Cassidy’s horse had left a big pile of shite on the path just outside the front door.

  ‘Shitey luck’s good luck,’ Mum said out loud, as she stared into the horizon and rocked me gently in her arms.

  4

  My best pal

  We moved quite soon after I was born, away from Back-O-Hill in the middle of nowhere to the same town Mum used to live in when she met my da. The school I went to was just a short walk away from our house and that was ­brilliant, ’cause it meant I could go home and see Mum every day at lunchtime. I was scared to go to school on that first day ’cause I didn’t have any pals, but when I got there I met Maggie, and me and Maggie became best pals on that first day and spent the whole of that day together, playing with the big bucket of crayons the teacher gave us. Maggie’s favourite crayons were the blue ones, and my favourites were the blue ones too. When the bell rang for playtime, me and Maggie went outside and played on the climbing frame and Maggie hung from it, pretending to be a monkey, but she looked nothing like a monkey. She had long, shiny chestnut hair all the way to her waist and pink rosy cheeks and everybody knew, just by looking at her, that one day she’d be famous and I thought that maybe if I was her pal, some day I’d be famous too.

  We sat beside each other every day after that and then we even started going to each other’s houses at lunchtime. Sometimes when we went to my house, Mum would make us a fried sausage each and one day when we went to Maggie’s house, her Mum made us macaroni and cheese out of a tin and it was pure brilliant.

  Me and Maggie loved to sing together and sometimes we made up our own songs and other times we sang the classics and my favourite was ‘You are my sunshine’, but Maggie liked ‘Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning’. And one day the singing teacher at school said we were the best singers in the class if not the entire school and when she said that, me and Maggie decided we were going to be professional singers on a proper stage one day. Then we started to dream about stardom, like what Shirley Temple and Lena Zavaroni had, and if you don’t know who Lena Zavaroni was, well they say she was Scotland’s answer to Shirley Temple and she shot to stardom when she was ten and by the time she was 35 she’d starved herself to death, ’cause the fame was all too much for her. And me and Maggie, well, we said we’d never starve ourselves to death ’cause all the time we’d be thinking about tinned macaroni and cheese, and how can people not want to eat when there’s food like that in the world?

  One day our headmistress, Miss Fairly, came to our class. When she walked in we all stood up and said, ‘Good morning, Miss Fairly,’ all at the same time and then she said, ‘Good morning class. Be seated.’

  Miss Fairly had come to tell us she’d heard what great singers me and Maggie were and then she said she wouldn’t be surprised if we went on to become the next Lena Zavaronis and I didn’t know where to look. Then she said she wanted us to go around the school and sing a song to every class and so we did and all the classes loved us and after every song me and Maggie took a bow, ’cause that’s what you do when you’re on a real stage.

  As we went from class to class, Maggie asked me what I’d do with all the money we were going to make once we went professional. I said I’d buy all the tinned macaroni and cheese that money could buy and Maggie said she’d do the same ’cause that’s what best pals do.

  Now that Maggie had said I was her best pal, she said I should sleep over at her house so we could practise our songs. So I went to Maggie’s house the next Wednesday after school and we practised in Maggie’s living room till Coronation Street came on and Maggie’s da said he wanted peace and quiet to watch it. So Maggie took me upstairs to her bedroom to show me where I’d be sleeping that night and when she put the light on, I saw something more gorgeous than anything I’d ever seen in my entire life. Maggie’s dressing table was painted gold with gold shiny knobs and fairy lights around the mirror and the stool was painted gold too and had a pink furry seat. And when Maggie sat down at her dressing table, she looked just like a princess with her long, shiny chestnut hair and her pink rosy cheeks and as I stood behind her, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and I looked like Maggie’s ugly sister and so I turned my head away quickly and looked out Maggie’s bedroom window and down at her da’s cabbage patch. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Maggie as she took out her lipstick from the pink purse she kept in the gold drawer and she ran the pink lipstick across her lips and then asked me if I wanted to put some on too and I said no, ’cause I didn’t want to have to see myself up close in the mirror standing next to Maggie with her long chestnut hair and her pink rosy cheeks and now the painted lips.

  And I wished I was beautiful like Maggie, but I wasn’t. I was ugly with my yellow hair that Mum had permed with the left-over perming lotion she had put under the sink after doing Auntie Annie’s hair and the more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder why Maggie would want to be pals with the likes of me. Then I got this sinking feeling right down deep inside my belly and knew right there and then that some day Maggie would leave me for another pal, a pal more beautiful than me and a pal who could sing better than me. And next thing you knew it would be Maggie and her new best pal owning all the tinned macaroni and cheese that money could buy.

  5

  The banana box in the attic

  Mum dropped in at Big Sheena’s Second Hand Bargains on the Glasgow Road. She wasn’t out to buy anything in particular that day but the minute she walked into the shop she saw it, way up on top of a dusty pile of second-hand fake oriental rugs that nearly reached the ceiling.

  ‘Hey, Sheena, is that a stuffed Airedale terrier with wee wheels on its feet you’ve got up there on top of yer fake ­oriental rugs, darlin’?’ Mum asked.

  Sheena took the fag out of her mouth and nodded as the smoke rose up in front of her face dyeing the front of her grey hair yellow.

  ‘I think it is, Betty,’ she said as she exhaled the smoke. ‘Wait a sec and I’ll get Jimmy in here wi’ the ladder tout suite and you can get a look at it.’

  ‘Only if you’re sure its nae bother, Sheena. I fancy getting it for my lassie Ali’s birthday, she’ll be se
ven next week, but I don’t want Jimmy going to any trouble if he’s busy.’

  ‘Och, its nae bother, Betty. And don’t worry about Jimmy, the useless bastard of mine’s got to do something to earn his keep.’

  Sheena let out a huge yell: ‘Haw, oor Jimmy! Get yersel’ in here right now, by the way. I’ve a customer that wants a look at that Airedale wi’ the wheels on it’s feet!’

  ‘Right, I’m comin’,’ Jimmy yelled back from the office. ‘I’ll be there in a minute!’ And a minute later Jimmy was on the scene and he smiled at Mum while he waited for instructions from big Sheena.

  ‘Get the ladder and get the Airedale down for Betty straightaway, Jimmy. She’s thinking of getting it for her lassie Ali—it’s her birthday next week.’

  ‘Nae bother, Betty, I’ll have it doon for you in a jiffy,’ Jimmy said.

  And so he leaned the ladder against the pile of oriental rugs and blankets and lost his footing once or twice as he climbed, and a few minutes later he was back down, proudly clutching the Airedale and beaming at Sheena as if he’d just done something worthy of praise. Sheena took the Airedale from him without as much as looking at him and put it on the counter.

  ‘Aye, so there it is, Betty. Lovely coat it has on it, eh? Just like the real thing.’

  ‘Aye, lovely right enough, Sheena. And look at the lovely wee wheels and the painted red handle for pushing it. Oor Ali’ll love that. Animal daft so she is—always bringing home some bloody cat or dog that she finds in the street in need of a good home. Mind you, our Izzy’s even worse. In fact, Ali brought a wee dog home just the other day, so she did, golden Labrador wi’ four wee white feet. Lovely wee animal, you shoulda seen it. Soxy we called it, you know, looked like it was wearing four wee white socks. But och, the owner came and knocked on the door that night and claimed it back and Ali’s distraught.’

  ‘Poor wee mite, she must be heartbroken now that wee Soxy’s gone. This wee Airedale might be just the ticket to take her mind off him,’ Sheena said as she exhaled another lungful of yellow smoke.

  ‘Och, aye, I mean she is heartbroken. But mind you Sheena, we’ve still a house full of fuckin’ animals—you know, there’s Toni and her litter of kittens, Buster, Tich, Mitzie and Heidi the dogs—not to mention the duck and drake and, of course, Annie the fuckin’ donkey.’

  ‘Oh, I see, yeez have a fair amount of animals right enough, Betty. Oh well, it’s maybe as well you get her something that doesn’t need any feeding, eh? This could be just the job.’

  ‘Aye, I think you’re right, Sheena. How much do you want for it, hen?’

  ‘Well, Betty, you’re a good customer, so how about I do a special price for you darlin’—just a pound’ll be fine.’

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely, Sheena. Here’s the pound and thanks. I’ll take it wi’ me now and gie it a wee shampoo before I go and get Ali from school. She’ll be that delighted.’

  ‘Okay, darlin’, I’ll get that useless bastard of mine to wrap it up for you—newspaper all right for you?’

  ‘Aye, that’s fine, Sheena, thanks very much.’

  ‘Nae bother, Betty. Any time.’

  And so Jimmy wrapped up the Airedale terrier on wheels and left the red painted handle sticking out and Mum took it home and shampooed it and left it out in the wind to dry and the next week when it was my birthday, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I fell in love with my stuffed Airedale terrier on wheels the minute I saw her and I took her outside onto the street and pushed her up and down and every so often I had to bend down to remove bits of gravel that got stuck in the solid rubber wheels. I called my stuffed Airedale terrier Molly, and I took Molly everywhere with me. I was the envy of the street. At night I’d park her right next to my side of the bed and I’d lie there with my hand sticking out from under the blankets holding onto the red painted handle. Molly was mine and nobody else’s but one night Andrew said that Molly was his, so I booted him on the shins and ran away and he ran after me and attacked me with the Hoover and of course it all ended in tears.

  It was a hot day that day and I sat on the back step even though Mum said I’d get piles if I did. I didn’t care. With the sun on my face I looked down at the tar on the path beneath my feet; the heat of the day had softened it and I pressed my fingers into it and their imprints remained. Molly sat beside me at the side of the step and every now and again I stood up and pushed her up and down the soft tar, looking back to marvel at the wheel tracks and footprints we left behind. Then Mum told me to park Molly somewhere and to get inside and have my tea straightaway but I told her I didn’t want to leave Molly outside on the soft tar by herself and she told me to stop being stupid and if I didn’t get inside and have my tea that minute, she’d put Molly in the loft and shut the lid and that would be the end of that. So I did as I was told and came inside and had my tea.

  After my tea I was supposed to do the hoovering and the dishes but I couldn’t wait to get back out to Molly and the sunshine and the soft tar. Just as I was about to put the last of my fried eggs on toast in my mouth, I heard my da pull his lorry into the driveway, then I heard the awful screeching of tyres and the mangling of metal. I dropped my fork and ran to the back door just in time to see one of Molly’s wheels roll past the step where I’d get piles and out the gate and onto the street. Then I looked across at my da who was getting out of his lorry to see what the hell he had run over, and that’s when I saw Molly crushed under the front wheel of my da’s lorry and almost mangled beyond recognition.

  I ran to the scene but there was nothing I could do. Molly was dead and my da was shouting and screaming and right bloody mad at me ’cause the red paint from Molly’s handle had marked the silver bumper of his lorry and that’s when he threatened to give me the hiding of my life.

  I took off down the driveway after Molly’s runaway wheel and when I caught it, I picked it up and cradled it in my cupped hands then ran to my room where I knew I’d be safe and far away from my da and his shouting. I wished I hadn’t parked Molly outside with the sun shining and the tar melting, but I did, and now Molly was gone and my da says that’s what you get when you’re selfish and careless and don’t look after toys that he pays good money for and is it any wonder he takes a drink and comes home in a right bloody temper.

  My da was right. I hadn’t taken good enough care of Molly and I felt ashamed and I cried. I kept Molly’s wheel under my pillow for days and my da told me to stop snivelling and to grow up and then he told me I shouldn’t be wasting my time playing with stupid dogs on wheels and soft tar when there was dishes and hoovering to be done. And then he said I was so careless I didn’t deserve anything and I knew he was right, ’cause then I remembered the time I took Bluey our budgie out of his cage to clean it and when I wasn’t looking Quackers, our one-eyed cat, sneaked up from behind and ate Bluey right there in front of me. Bluey put up a struggle mind you, but it wasn’t enough and once the struggle was over, his blue and yellow feathers were everywhere and I had to get the Hoover out before my da got home. My da said Bluey died because of my carelessness and now look, Molly was dead too.

  With Molly dead and the memory of Bluey’s blue and yellow feathers still fresh in my mind, I made a promise to myself right there and then there would be no more time for fun and track marks and fingerprints in soft tar and for pushing stupid stuffed animals on wheels with bright red handles up and down the street. From that moment on, I was going to be careful and responsible and years later when my da was attacked by his business partner in an empty car park on the other side of town, it was me who’d be careful and responsible and drag his bleeding body to the car and race him to the hospital.

  And so when I was seven I put all my toys away in a banana box in the attic, including Molly’s wheel, and that was the last time I lost myself in play. Now I am older people ask me what it is I do for fun and I think back to the soft tar and Molly’s wheel and I can’t give them an answer because I don’t know. I’ve forgotten how to play and how to have fun and I long for care
less moments with Molly again.

  And every so often I think about bringing my banana box out of the attic and once I’ve done the hoovering and the dusting, that’s precisely what I’ll do.

  6

  The day Fiona got a brain tumour

  Mrs Cameron was just about to start reading chapter two of The Three Golliwogs to us when Fiona burst in through the green painted doors and ran to Mrs Cameron, threw her arms around her neck and wouldn’t let go. There were tears like I’d never seen before, and then uncontrollable wailing, and Mrs Cameron took Fiona out into the playground and closed the green painted doors behind her. My best pal Maggie ran up to the door and looked through the keyhole and the whole class held their breaths trying to hear what was wrong with Fiona, but all we could hear were her sobs.

  Mrs Cameron came back inside and told us all to behave ourselves, that Fiona wasn’t well and that she was going to take her to Miss Fairly, the headmistress, and that she’d be back directly. She told Maggie to read The Three Golliwogs to the class until she got back, then she shut the green painted doors behind her again and all of us rushed to the window to watch Mrs Cameron take Fiona across the playground and into the main school building to Miss Fairly’s office. When Mrs Cameron came back, she told us Fiona’s mammy was coming to take her home and that we should all try to settle down now and concentrate on The Three Golliwogs. I tried to do as Mrs Cameron told us but I was scared, ’cause it didn’t seem right that somebody would burst in through the green painted doors like that if something terrible wasn’t going on.