by Sam Selvon
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* * *
When she left him Bat sit in the bed looking at the kettle, as if he wish he could command it to get up and get full and put on the gas and boil. He wish Harry was home: he uses to make Harry do a lot of things for him, and Harry would of make tea. He know Harry was after Jean and he say to him, ‘Leave everything to me, I will fix up for you.’ From that time, anything he ask Harry to do, Harry doing it, hoping that Bat would put in a good word for him. Bat get to thinking that maybe Harry was a geni in disguise: at least, life wasn’t as hard as before. Because for one thing, though Harry ain’t know it, he paying all the rent for the basement room, and buying rations too besides.
Bat yawn and stretch and light a cigarette. As he do that he smile to himself, wondering how many of the boys must be lighting up same time? Bat get big kick from the idea of the house, and he already collect twenty-nine quid. Twenty-nine quid! Who would of dream that just by talking about a idea men would give you money? Bat begin to get delirious from the time the money start to come in. He can’t even remember who give how much, all he know is that he is the man in possession of the money, and he begin to spend wild. Thinking about it now, he wonder how much remain? He lift himself up and feel under the mattress. For a minute he panic as how Gallows panic when he lost his fiver, because his hand ain’t encountering no joy. His fingers scramble about on the springs, and he feel a note and pull it out. It was ten shillings.
Bat jump off the bed and pull the mattress right off. No more money, the ten shillings was all that remain!
Which part all that money gone? Bat wondered. Somebody thief it? I hide it somewhere else?
And then as he cool down, he realise he must of spent it. No use bothering about it, he would have to make another collection. Was about time the boys come up with some more if they really intend to get a house. What would happen on the day of reckoning when the fellars find out that he spend all their money was something that Bat wasn’t worried about. He would have to think of some scheme. If things come to the worst he could always say somebody thief the money. Bat imagine himself telling them: ‘Oh God! You know what happen? Somebody break open the room and thief my money!’ On top of that he would have to say they thief clothes and wristwatch too, to make it sound real.
‘Battersby, you get up yet?’ He hear Matilda voice outside the door.
Bat put the mattress back on the bed and jump back under the blankets.
‘I just get up Mat,’ he say. ‘Come in.’
Matilda come in. ‘As you here, put the kettle on and make some tea like a good girl,’ Bat say.
‘You think I is your servant or something?’
‘Go on Mat,’ Bat coax. ‘What you come down for? Like you know I was thinking about you.’
Bat shift up on the bed and patting a place for Matilda to sit down on the edge, but she still stand.
‘I just wanted to see you before you go to work,’ she say. ‘They don’t have excursion in London?’
The question so sudden that Bat say, ‘Excursion?’
‘Yes man, like back home to go by the seaside and so on.’
‘Oh, excursion!’ he say, as if Matilda did say something else. ‘Sure they have. Especially now as summer coming. You don’t see them coaches all the time?’
‘I was thinking why we don’t give a excursion to Hamdon Court or one of those places, and make money for the house.’
Bat look at the Aladdin lamps on the wallpaper. Jesus Christ! As if the thing really working in truth! No geni actually appearing on the scene, but the way things was working out, as if some good spirit keeping an eye on the old Bat! Look how Matilda come up with this new idea, what could make him make some money. Not only that, but look at Matilda herself in the room, a hefty piece of arse.
‘Mat,’ Bat say, ‘come and sit close and tell me about this plan. It sound great.’
Matilda scotch on the edge of the bed. ‘You not going to work?’ she ask.
‘I don’t have to.’ Bat done forget work clean, and studying to make a stroke with Mat. ‘You know, these days you looking nicer and nicer, like the English weather agree with you.’
‘Go on, you only fast!’
But all the same, she getting excited. ‘You best hads know that I have a English boy friend.’
‘Naturally,’ Bat say. ‘A girl like you, I mean, you have them wild, eh?’
‘You too full of guile! You well know how to sweeten up the girls!’
While all this preliminary going on, Bat hands making some sally across Matilda legs, and she putting up some show of warding him off.
‘Don’t try that with me—you think I don’t know how much white girls you have about the place?’
‘Ah, that is only pastime,’ Bat say, ‘a man must have a little amusement. But you think I really like any one of them? You think I would ever married a white girl? Man, I want somebody who could cook a good pigfoot and rice, and wash my clothes, and scratch my head, and look after me good. Somebody like you, Mat.’
By this time Bat hands have the wanderlust too bad and Matilda shivering. ‘Let we talk about the excursion,’ she say. ‘You could charge about a pound each, and let everybody smoke and drink, that will encourage the boys. Work it out. How much passenger does fit in a coach?’
‘I don’t know man about fifty or so don’t bother with that now.’
Bat couldn’t help thinking, in the midst of the stroke, how things was coming his way. And as he wrestling with Matilda, he look at the Aladdin lamps on the wall and he shout out: ‘Geni, you are great!’
Was only afterwards when she calm down that Matilda ask him: ‘Why the hell you call Jeanie name just now?’
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* * *
Gallows was going up the Bayswater Road that same night. The kind of thing they use for the pavements there, in the night you does see sparkles and glitters, and Gallows was wondering if in truth the streets of London pave with gold. Supposing one of them sparkle turn out to be a diamond or a real pearl! Plenty time already he find brooch and rings, but all of them was Woolworth and ain’t worth a damn. Nonetheless, there is nothing like the hopes and dreams of man, and Gallows was sure that like how every dog has his day, so a time would come when he would be laughing. Like what Alfonso tell him happen to him one day. The tale sound so tall that Gallows had was to believe it. Alfonso say that one day, in broad daylight, he was walking down the road and just by a cafe he see a trail of pound notes on the pavement. The whole world in motion, people walking up and down, crossing over from the tube station by the zebra, standing up by the bus-stop, traffic going to and fro, and just there, on the pavement, Alfonso see this trail of pounds, like a millionaire was playing paper-chase with some spare cash. Alfy say the first thing that come to his mind was to take a photo. But a bird in hand was worth more than anything else. Because on top of everything, people as if they not seeing this money, as if they fraid to bend down and pick up a note. Well Alfy say he look around and as nobody want to strain their backs, he start to pick up the money. He say he pick up eighteen pounds, scooping them up like if he cleaning the pavement. And nobody bothering with him. In fact, a old lady bend down and pick up one and hand him saying, ‘You’re careless, ain’t you?’ and another Englisher say, ‘You want to be more careful with your lolly, mate.’ All of them believe that the money belong to Alfy in truth, and this time Alfy done planning that if a copper only come up, he would say he was collecting the notes to take to the nearest police station. But such is life, that nobody make a move to stop Alfy, and when he finish collecting the manna he duck around the corner and take off like he on Ascot racecourse. ‘And you mean to say nobody ask you anything?’ Gallows did ask him. ‘If I lie I die,’ Alfy did say.
Gallows never forget that tale. One day he might find a wallet—he wouldn’t have to bend down and pick up money scatter all about. And in that wallet he w
ould find so much that his head would spin.
As he reach up by where the hustlers does be spaced off waiting for customers, he glancing up now and then to see if he could spot Jean. (Of course, since the law take the girls off the streets you don’t see so many again, but the time I talking about they used to be spread out from the Gate to the Arch, and all up Park Lane too.)
Jean was with a English hustler smoking. They throwing back their heads and blowing the smoke high up in the air.
‘What you know, Jean?’ Gallows say, but he had his eye on the English thing, a blowsy piece what remind him of the days of the Scandinavian.
‘Take it easy Gallows,’ Jean say.
‘Who is your friend?’ Gallows ask.
‘One you can’t afford,’ Jean say.
Gallows nod sadly. ‘Is true. I could do with a cuppa, Jean.’
Jean open her purse and give Gallows two and six. Gallows eye open big.
‘Like you having a good night,’ he say.
‘Easy come easy go,’ Jean say.
‘You ain’t seen Harry around?’ Gallows pocket the halfcrown. ‘I looking for him because he might get in big trouble.’
‘What trouble?’
‘Well, he and Poor was smoking weed, and the police was after Poor, and Poor give Harry the weed to keep for him and out off. I was watching them all the time since they leave the market, and I see everything.’
Gallows was looking hard at Jean, to see how she take the news, because such observations does help him to be in the know so he could talk people business.
But Jean was eyeing a customer who was coming up the road, and she pretend she ain’t concerned. The customer wink and she went across to him and the two of them went in the park looking for a handy patch of grass or a big tree.
When she come back Gallows was gone. The English hustler ask her: ‘How much you get off him, Jean?’
‘I only get ten bob. But he fire off as soon as we get behind the tree.’
The two of them was just lighting up cigarettes when the Englisher say, ‘Oh Christ, there’s another of those Legion of Mary sisters,’ and she walk down the road fast and left Jean.
The sister say to Jean, ‘Excuse me, but what part of the world do you come from?’
‘The jungle,’ Jean say, blowing smoke in her face. ‘It ain’t no use, lady, it really ain’t no use. You only wasting your time.’
The Mary say, ‘But this kind of life, my child, selling your body for gain! Can’t you get other employment? We have an organisation that will guarantee you a job if you leave the streets.’
‘Lady, you hindering my traffic. Go and talk to them other white girls up the road, and save their souls.’
‘My child, you do not understand. I want to save you from a life of sin and corruption—’
Jean walk off to meet her friend. Behind her, the sister say sadly, ‘We have to put up with so much. You offer people salvation and they laugh at you.’ And she went away shaking her head from side to side.
‘Christ, these women,’ Jean tell her friend, ‘they never let you alone. You know what happen the other night? A man approach one of them and ask for a short time!’
The Englisher rock with laughing. ‘And what happen?’
‘She say, “How dare you, do you know who I am?” I went with him after, all he wanted was a wank.’
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Harry Banjo likewise float up to town that night. He didn’t even know or care how he reach. It was just as if he wish he was in town, and the kicks he was getting from the weed throw him in Piccadilly Circus. Could be no better place for an aspiring calypsonian like Harry. He cruise around by the theatres, taking down all the displays and putting up new ones: LATEST SENSATION FROM JAMAICA, HARRY BANJO THE IMMIGRANT CALYPSONIAN. And he putting up some big photos with his face, and some with him strumming the banjo, and one or two what have him up near the mike singing. Also, his name up in lights, winking on and off. This was the place where he belong, in show business. That is what the tourist tell him in Montego Bay. Harry uses to play in a hotel there, and one night this tourist tell him: ‘You ought to go to London and make your name.’ And Harry take up himself and come to London.
You see, though the newspaper and the radio tell you that people in the West Indies desperate for jobs and that is why they come to Britain, you mustn’t believe that that is the case with all of them. I mean, some fellars just pick up themselves and come with the spirit of adventure, expecting the worst but hoping for the best. Some others just bored and decide to come and see what the old Brit’n look like.
Every now and then Harry get a break to sing in some club or at some party, but he was always dreaming of the big times. And on top of the normal dreams, the weed have him charge up so much that he feel like breaking into one of them theatres and going on the stage and singing!
By and by he drift up to Oxford Circus and then to Marble Arch. As if his footsteps lead him straight to Jean, smoking on the pavement.
‘Jean,’ Harry say, ‘what you doing here?’
‘I get a break for tea,’ Jean say, laughing.
‘You waiting to catch a bus or something?’ And then as he see other hustlers standing around, Harry realise what Jean was doing. ‘Man Jean,’ he say ‘you mean to tell me a nice thing like you hustling fares? Is that what you do in truth?’
‘Oh Christ,’ Jean say. ‘First the Legion of Mary and then Harry Banjo. You on the reformation committee too?’
‘I will married you Jean, you don’t have to do this kind of thing.’
Now though Jean was a tough customer, she ain’t as hard as rock, and as Harry say that she realise that he really mean it. Jean did know a lot of fellars but none of them ever wanted to married. The nearest she ever come to it was one time in Trinidad when she fall pregnant, but she wasn’t sure who was the father and had was to throw away the child. It didn’t look as if Harry only wanted to make a stroke and pull out.
‘Harry,’ she say, ‘when you have a lot of money we could talk about that. But right now I know you ain’t have a cent.’
‘Who say so?’ Harry ask. ‘And too besides, ain’t we going to buy a house? We will have our own place to live.’
‘That is only a lark,’ Jean say, ‘you think them fellars really serious? I know Battersby, he is my own brother, and I could tell you that up to now he ain’t give me a ha’penny to save up. If I was you I think twice about that scheme.’
‘I buy house myself if my agent sell that recording.’
‘Everything is ‘if.’ If this and if that. You fellars does live in a dream world.’ Then she remember what Gallows tell her. ‘Listen, Poor give you any weed to keep? You better get rid of it before you get in trouble.’
But while Jean talking she have her eye on a car that coming down the road slowly, as if the driver is a kind-hearted fellar and he looking for hitch-hikers. When the car draw alongside she went and talk to the driver and then she get in the car. As it drive off she look out the window and shout to Harry, ‘Get rid of what Poor give you!’
Harry stand up there feeling miserable and desolate, as if all the kicks gone out of him. He haul out a charger from the brown packet and light up quickly to recover the sensations. And as he haul on the weed, he begin to think that he might stand a chance with Jean after all. As if the fact that she was a hustler, instead of putting him off, make him more in love and want to take she away from this kind of life. The weed had him high and the world was rosy again. All he had to do was get money and he would get Jean. He look at the hustlers. How much a night they make? he wonder. Ten? Fifteen? Maybe more than that. He would have to get in the money in a big way before he could take Jean away. He wonder if his agent having any luck with the recording?
He went in the telephone booth to call and ask him, but the line was busy. When he step out two English f
ellars gang up on him.
‘What happen?’ Harry ask.
One of them frisk him and find the brown packet.
‘You’re coming with us,’ the tall one say.
‘Where we going?’ Harry ask. The weed still have him hazy and he can’t understand what happening.
‘Down the river,’ the other Englisher say maliciously.
‘What all you want with me?’ Harry start to get frighten. ‘What this about? A man can’t walk in peace in London. That thing belong to a friend.’
‘Come along now, we don’t want any trouble.’
This time so, sports gather around to witness the episode. And though in fact they don’t like black people, they don’t like the police worse. So hear them:
‘Leave him alone!’
‘What’s he done?’
‘Just because he’s black!’
And Harry, as fright take him, turning to them and saying: ‘I just stand up here minding my own business and these fellars come and grab me. That is how you all behave in London?’
‘All right, all right,’ the detective say. ‘Enough of all this. You’re coming with us now.’
And with that they start to haul Harry down the road. Suddenly now all the height gone out of Harry. ‘I ain’t do nothing!’ he wail. ‘I was just keeping that for a friend!’
Gallows come out of the shadows in the park and watch them taking down Harry. It look as if poor Harry can’t walk, as if he cripple, the way how he hanging on.
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If to say these fellars did really intend to buy a house by saving up money, you think they would have ever start up with the idea in the spring? Only madmen would of done that. If it was autumn, or even winter, it might sound reasonable. But how you could expect the boys to curb their appetites, and hold the lions back, and take it easy when the skies blue and sun shining and things strolling all over the place in tights and low-neck blouse? When summer break, is as if the hunting season start. Even Gallows, who never had a thing since the no-teeth, hefty Scandinavian wench, decide that he getting rusty and is time to make a stroke. Men gone wild spending money on drinks and taking women for coffee and to the pictures and on sight-seeing tours. Some fellars even get vap to gon on the Continent and taking off for Greece and Turkey and Rome, and a gang of fellars in Brixton form a group what gone behind the Iron Curtain, saying they would see what they could pick up in the Red Square!