The Housing Lark

by Sam Selvon

  ‘Boy I wish I was back home now. You don’t wish?’

  ‘Yes boy, life too hard over here, you have to live hand to mouth.’

  ‘I wonder how they does treat you in jail.’

  ‘How you mean treat you? Jail is for criminals.

  ‘Like you.’

  ‘The police evil boy. You read how they exposing them?’

  ‘I feel to piss.’

  ‘Go and find a tree. I just leak against a oak over there.’

  ‘Life funny boy.’

  ‘You telling me.’

  ‘I wonder what o’clock.’

  ‘Syl, why you don’t go back to India boy? That is your mother country.’

  ‘Brit’n is my country.’

  ‘Yes Syl, how come you don’t wear dhoti and turban?’

  ‘I wonder if I ever get in trouble if the Indian High Commissioner would help me, or if he would send me to the Trinidad office?’

  ‘Man, you don’t know if you Indian, negro, white, yellow or blue.’

  ‘All he know is he is.’

  ‘That sound like I dris when I’s dri.’

  ‘You see that ad? You see how they fugging up OUR PEOPLE. As if that’s the way we speak.’

  ‘Yes, like if you want a nigger for neighbour vote labour.’

  ‘They too evil in this country.’

  And so it going on and on, like bees lazily droning in the summer air. It don’t matter what the topic is, as long as words floating about, verbs, adjectives, nouns, interjections, paraphrase and paradise, the boys don’t care. It like a game, all of them throwing words in the air like a ball, now and then some scandalous laugh making sedate Englishers wonder what the arse them black people talking about, and the boats on the river, every time a boatload pass Syl waving to them, and you could see them white people getting high kicks as they wave back. You could imagine the talk that going on on the boat: ‘Look dear, come and see, there’s a party of Jamaicans on the bank.’ And big excitement on the boat, everybody rushing to the gunnels (is a pity some of them don’t break their arse and fall in the Thames) to see. And this time the boys sprawl on the grass, shirt out, socks and shoes off, belts slackened, scratching and yawning and spitting and hawking and breaking wind, and now and then this bacchanal laughter ringing out: some women washing their pots and pans in the river, and the children dashing about like blue-arse flies and you hearing the elders shout: ‘WILLEMEENA! COME AWAY FROM THERE!’ or ‘ALBERT! IF YOU FALL IN THAT RIVER TODAY I LEAVE YOU TO DROWN!’

  By and by the girls depart for another tour, this time they say they going to see the grapevine that hundreds of years old, and still bearing. Charlie, having the time of his life with the boys, inveigle Maisie to go along with them, and Poor, who was sitting down under a tree all this time by himself, take off after the girls, hoping he could talk with Maisie and raise a stroke for the night.

  They didn’t leave Hamdon Court until about eight o’clock the night, because you could imagine the confusion, children get lost, a woman remember she left her best pot by the river, two others dash back to buy mementoes, some fellars in a big argument with a attendant because they leave some empty bottles on the grass and he want to know if they can’t read where it say KEEP BRITAIN TIDY, one old fellar holding his belly and bawling and saying that he think he have a pennycitis (somebody ask him if he could afford it) and Battersby better get a ambulance for him, Poor discover the two back tyres of the char-a-banc flat and start cussing the boys in general because he don’t know which one responsible, and the English driver of the coach threatening to go and leave them all behind and report the matter to the company.

  And to crown it all, as they on the way back home eventually, Bat start to pass a hat around for something for the driver. Something for the driver! they ask him, how you mean something for the driver? Yes yes, Bat say, that is the custom, everybody who go on excursions have to sub up to give something for the driver. But he catch them at a bad time, nobody don’t want to give a ha’penny, now that the fete finishing they start to find faults with everything, the organisation was bad, they should of had two or three buses, they should of had a guide to conduct them around the palace, somebody lost a wristwatch and the whole coachload of them was thieves.

  When they reach back to Brixton, Bat had was to give the driver a bottle of beer what escape destruction.

  ‘Anyway,’ Bat say, ‘never mind, next time we go make up for it. I thinking of going further afield. These coaches does go to Scotland and Wales?’

  ‘You don’t want a coach mate,’ the Englisher say maliciously. ‘They should put the lot of you on a banana boat and ship you back to Jamaica.’

  * * *

  * * *

  After one time is another, or every day is not Sunday, as the old folks back home used to say. Some furious cogitation start up, as if the cogitators frighten lest another summer pass and they find themselves marking time left right, left right on the same spot. Still, you don’t have to get any bloody airs about OUR PEOPLE, because in this world today they have plenty company. Procrastinators and high dreamers like stupidness all over the place.

  And that furious cogitation that was going on—well, is true that it happening among the female of the species, but still, we is we, and after we is weevil!

  Matilda make a dash home after work one evening, anxious to see Jean. She was sitting down smoking waiting for Matilda.

  ‘You went?’ Mat ask as Jean pour a cup of tea for her.

  ‘Sure,’ Jean say, ‘when I make up my mind to do something I do it.’

  ‘How he looking? How they treating him?’

  ‘I thinking of getting married,’ Jean say. ‘I tired and fed-up with getting no place, going on day after day with the same old things and not making any progress. And Mat, even without knowing that I give up hustling he ask me to married!’

  ‘He really love you,’ Mat say enviously. ‘I wish Bat did care for me like that. So that’s why you been home these days! I notice you was looking poorly and I thought you wasn’t well.’

  ‘I was thinking,’ Jean say. ‘Suddenly as if I want to plan for the future and make something of my life before I dead in this grim Brit’n. You think I could have children?’

  ‘Dozens,’ Mat say, ‘you still young, younger than me.’

  ‘Girl, he was too glad when I tell him. I lie and say I get a job with Lyons, but anyway I will come with you tomorrow and try.’

  ‘I tell them about you already,’ Mat say, ‘they always taking on people and you sure to get a job. Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘I also had a serious chat about the house,’ Jean say, ‘and you know what? We would try and buy one ourselves if nothing happen with this scheme Bat and the boys have.’

  ‘I can’t blame you, girl. You see them on the excursion? All they go out for is a good time. It look to me as if we don’t take them in hand, we get no place at all. We just can’t leave things to them, they have no thought for the future.’

  ‘I have something save, and if Harry get this job as a singer, we might be able to make the grade. But house or no house, I think I going and get married. That is the thing I wanted to talk to you most about, because well, we will have to live here. You might have to get another place. Unless you live with Bat downstairs.’

  Matilda get up on her high horse. ‘What you think it is at all? You think I would live with him just like that? We not back home, you know. The only-est way I would stay there is if he married me.’

  ‘Girl, if you could catch him I would be happy,’ Jean say. ‘That man is a burden to carry, he like a stone around my neck. Since Harry went away, who you think paying the rent for the basement? I don’t only pay Harry share but Bat own too.’

  ‘Well look at that scamp! He been coming to me and asking for an ease-up with the rent! He down there now?’

  ‘No, I th
ink he gone to work early for a change.’

  ‘Wait till I see him. Is high time we clear up all this business about house and money and everything.’

  ‘They would only laugh if we talk to them, you know that.’

  ‘But they wouldn’t laugh if Teena talk,’ Mat say.

  And so Jean spark off Matilda, and early next morning she went down in 13A and wake him up and start to chastise him. Bat, waking up from a heavy sleep after a hard night at the factory, hardly listening to what she say. His hands groping for a feel and he have his eyes still close, as if once you do that you shut out the world and nothing could intrude.

  ‘And when we get married I will look after all the business affairs,’ Matilda was saying, ‘because I know you just can’t manage. But I won’t tie you down like some people, you would still have a lot of freedom.’

  ‘Come on under the blankets Mat,’ Bat say. ‘why you so torturous?’

  ‘I hope you been listening to all I was saying.’

  ‘Yes yes, but come under the sheets man.’

  ‘You wait for that. Plenty of time for bed later on, you like a Rush-ian.’

  ‘Come and make one, do-do.’

  ‘No, I got to go to work.’

  After Matilda went Bat still lay down on the bed soaking. He was thinking how, even though he wasn’t a millionaire, he could be sleeping on top of money. When he roll on the bed he could hear the rustle of notes as they rub up between the mattress and the bedsprings.

  The spirit of rebellion take all the females at the same time, or it may be that down in Hamdon Court where so many historical plots hatch they get inspiration. Because Teena take after Fitz too.

  ‘What happening?’ she ask him that evening.

  ‘Easy man,’ Fitz say.

  ‘I mean what bloody well happening with this house. Also what happening in general, as far as progress is concern. We going to be sitting around on our arses all the time?’

  ‘Bat say he waiting for Harry to come out of jail.’

  ‘I want you to know something, Mr Fitz-Williams. I am tired of all the farting around that’s been going around. I want action.’

  ‘Yes Teena.’

  ‘And you know what that mean. You know when I say clear the decks, it is guns away at the crack of the whip. You had a good time this year so far, plenty evenings out to go sporting and idling with your friends.’

  ‘True Teena.’

  ‘Well this year not going to end like all the other years.’

  ‘We having a meeting soon to discuss things.’

  ‘You not going to that meeting Fitz.’

  ‘If you say so, Teena.’

  ‘Because I am going to get things moving myself. I am going to stick pins in your arses, and have the whole set of you as if you training for the Olympics.’

  ‘Just let the summer pass, Teena, and I going to start up overtime again.’

  ‘Too many summers pass, Fitz, and left we standing in the queue. You know when I talking so cool, that is my dangerous mood. Watch out.’

  The topic continue in the market one morning when Teena and Jean and Matilda meet up whilst doing their shopping for the weekend.

  ‘You are the treasurer,’ Teena say to Jean, ‘and you mean up to now Bat ain’t give you a cent? What it is at all? What sort of racket going on with our money? I tell you!’

  ‘The excuse that Bat giving everybody is that he waiting for Harry to come out of jail,’ Jean say.

  ‘And when Harry coming?’

  ‘Should be late next week.’

  ‘And what going to happen then? He coming back with a million? He coming back with a solution to the problem? Excuse, excuse all the time.’

  ‘Same thing I say,’ Matilda chime in. ‘If we leave it to these layabouts and vagabonds, day follow day the same way. You is the one to talk, Teena, cause they only laugh at me and Jean.’

  ‘Don’t fret your head, I will talk. They meeting tonight, and you and Jean must come back me up.’

  * * *

  * * *

  Summer can’t last for ever. All them tulips and daffodils and blue skies have their day of bloom and depart. And though you might think that the singsong life the boys lead will go on and on, after one time is another. Is true with them fellars you could never tell what would be the outcome of any conversation. They might say they moving east, and you see them heading west, they might say they coming when they going.

  But when the women get together, is a different story altogether. If the boys did know what was going to happen that night, they might of cancelled the meeting. As it is, they come grudgingly, because the summer was waning fast and every sunny evening now meant that things would be grazing about Londontown taking in the sights having a last row on the river, a last saunter on the Embankment, a last roll in green grass under leafy trees. And men who didn’t have much luck so far want to catch up with strokes and make the most of every sunny hour. Alfy for one had was to meet a thing by the Locarno in Streatham and wasn’t coming, but he meet Nobby on the way and Nobby encourage him to come.

  By and by everybody was at 13A except Fitz.

  ‘You see the same thing,’ Alfy tell Nobby. ‘It look as if Fitz ain’t coming. The man right. You know how many birds I could of catch this evening?’

  ‘That’s all you can talk about,’ Jean say.

  ‘They not interested in any house,’ Matilda say.

  ‘What better topic than women?’ Syl begin to argue. ‘If it wasn’t for we men, where would all you women be?’

  ‘As it so happens,’ Bat say, ‘I have a surprise. I manage to hold back a bottle of Barbados rum from the excursion.’

  ‘Well don’t make a speech about it,’ Nobby say. ‘Haul it out to be destroyed.’

  ‘You see the same thing?’ Jean whisper to Matilda, ‘I wish Teena would hurry up and come.’

  As if Teena hear the door open and she come in.

  ‘Where Fitz?’ Bat ask.

  ‘Fitz not coming,’ Teena say grimly, ‘but I am here.’ She nod at the girls. ‘You all discuss anything yet?’

  ‘We just going to discuss this bottle,’ Bat say.

  ‘We was waiting for Fitz,’ Syl say.

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Teena went and stand up in the centre of the room. ‘You fellars should get jobs as wait-ers. Put away that bottle of rum, Bat.’

  The way how Teena say that, Bat push the bottle back in the cupboard before he catch himself. ‘What the arse!’ he say, and take it back again. As he put it on the table Teena snatch it up and push it under her arm.

  ‘Everybody all right?’ she ask. ‘Nobody feeling ill or anything? Everybody ready to discuss business?’

  ‘Listen woman,’ Bat begin.

  ‘Shut up Bat,’ Jean say.

  Alfy burst out laughing and Matilda shut him up. A silence descend. Gallows edge over by Matilda and Jean, as if he feel that is the safest place in the room.

  ‘Right,’ Teena say. ‘Everybody sit down comfortable.’ As how you hear them crank up Children’s Hour on the BBC. ‘Now you Mr Battersby, how much money you have?’

  ‘How much money I have!’ Bat repeat. Something was brewing here tonight, he could feel it. He realise he better go carefully. He laugh. ‘This woman like she mad,’ he say to the room, ‘she barge in here and take away my rum, and the next thing she want to know how much money I have! What happen, you want a loan?’

  ‘Go on Bat, answer,’ Matilda say. ‘You know what she mean. How much money save up so far for the house?’

  ‘I ain’t count it yet,’ Bat say airily.

  ‘Count it now,’ Teena say, ‘talk in terms of pounds, shillings and pence.’

  Bat start to sing a ditty from schooldays in Trinidad:

  ‘Pound shilling and pence

  Good evening ladies and gents


  What I want to tell you

  Is to multiply by twelve twenty and two.’

  Strange enough nobody laugh. Gallows wanted to, but when he look around and see how everybody else was tense, and Teena face grim, he changed his mind. Only Bat laugh, but stop halfway and say, ‘Like you all plan some trick on me tonight,’ and he look at Matilda hard as much as if to say that if that was the case she should of told him. He make another attempt to snatch the bottle from Teena but she back off.

  ‘One of you talk to this woman,’ he say.

  ‘Bring the money out Bat, and stop wasting time,’ Teena say. ‘Bring it from wherever you does hide it, and count it here on the table in front of everybody.’

  Bat make another laugh, gill-gill, looking around for support from any quarter. Is a funny thing, but once men get somebody to take in front, they don’t mind making a lot of hue and cry in the background. They like to play Follow the Leader: let someone get in the front of the band, and they will follow on making big noise. As they see Teena there now championing the cause, they feeling full of dignity and strength, they beginning to think some strange thoughts, like: Yes, Teena right you know, this lark went on long enough, and: Is time we have a settlement, and even: Poor Teena, she must be feeling it the worse, with two children and they living in a room what even smaller than 13A.

  The house might be a lark to them but it mean a lot to Teena. And even Fitz, he wasn’t a bad fellar. It all well and good for the boys who free and single to make do with what they have, but what about when people start having family? Them English people don’t want to rent from the time they see you, and as for when you have a family!

  Bat, making a last attempt to stall, say to Teena: ‘What is your interest in this affair, pray?’

  ‘I am representing my husband,’ Teena say, ‘and the sum of twenty five pounds that he give you so far. I don’t know about these other fellars.’

  ‘Go on, count the money Bat,’ Alfy say.

  ‘Yes Bat, count it,’ Nobby say.

  ‘You might as well,’ Syl join the others.