Buddha Da

by Anne Donovan

  ‘And ah fuckin love you, too.’

  Then everythin sterted spinnin roond me and ah fund masel on the flair.

  Next day ah cannae move oot ma bed tae two o’clock in the efternoon. Ah’d woke up at eleven feelin as if somebuddy’d beat me up – the back of ma heid was like a football and ah’d pains in ma legs and airms. Ma throat was like a desert, dry and prickly. Liz wasnae in bed beside me but she must of heard me groanin or sumpn cos the next minute she stuck her heid roond the door.

  ‘You still alive?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Christ, much did ah have last night?’

  ‘Don’t ask me. Ah wisnae countin.’

  ‘Ah cannae mind feelin this rough since … ah don’t know …’

  ‘Want a cuppa tea?’

  ‘No the now, hen … mibbe later.’

  ‘Irn Bru and a coupla Resolve?’

  ‘That’s mair like it.’

  A few minutes later she was back wi a glass a Resolve and a bottle a ’Bru. Ah knocked back the Resolve and took a wee slug ae the ginger. Ma mooth started tae feel a bit better.

  ‘Thanks, Liz. How are you?’

  ‘No bad, actually. Ah drank a big glass a watter and a had coupla paracetamol when we came in. Seemed tae dae the trick.’

  ‘Ah cannae even remember comin in.’

  ‘Ah’m no surprised.’

  ‘Christ, was it that bad?’

  ‘Aye. But ah wouldnae worry aboot it. The state maisty them were in they’ll no remember anythin aboot it.’

  She got up and went tae the door.

  ‘Anne Marie and me are away tae mass the now. Ah’ll pick up ma mammy and go round tae hers for a wee while efter. Will you be OK?’

  ‘Aye – ah’m beginnin tae feel a wee bit mair human already – that ginger’s magic stuff so it is. Ah’ll mibbe have slept off the worst by the time yous get back.’

  ‘Right. See you later.’

  Aboot five a’clock our John came on the phone.

  ‘So how are you? Recovered fae last night yet?’

  ‘Never better.’

  ‘Have you eaten anythin yet?’

  ‘No much. Bit a toast. But ah could murder a curry noo.’

  ‘That’s just whit ah was thinkin. Tricia and me could get a cairry-oot and come round if you like.’

  ‘Sounds good. Ah’ll go and ask Liz whit she’s wantin.’

  ‘And ah’ll bring the video. We havenae watched it wersels yet.’

  ‘The video?’

  ‘Aye. Of the party.’

  Ah’d completely forgot there was a video. Wanny Jimmy’s pals has a wee fancy camcorder and he’d been leppin aboot the hale night stickin it intae folk’s faces and askin them tae say a few words aboot John.

  ‘Ah didnae think you’d have it already.’

  ‘You just connect it tae the TV. You don’t need tae dae anythin tae it.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Did you think ah was gettin Martin Scorsese tae edit it or sumpn?’

  ‘Naw, just didnae realise you could watch them that quick.’

  ‘Aye, it’s nearly the twenty-first century noo, son.’

  It was worse than ah could of ever imagined. There we were sittin round in our livin room watchin me and John make complete eejits out wersels. Ah could remember us up dancin tae Lou Reed and him tellin me he loved me and then us fallin doon thegether but it got worse efter that. Ah must of been completely oot ma box for ah didnae remember the next bit. The DJ had put on that Pretenders’ record ‘Brass in Pocket’ and John and me had stayed up dancin tae it, posin and prancin around like right chookies. When it got tae the bit in the lyrics when she’s singin, ‘ah’m gonna make you notice me, gonna use ma fingers’ and all that, we’d mimed the actions, then ah’d started singin ‘gonnae use ma arse’ and pulled doon ma breeks and mooned at the camera. And there it was, in close up; ma arse wi two big spots on the left cheek. And John pauses the video at that point and the others are all laughin their heids aff.

  ‘There you are, Jimmy, a movie star at last – got your best feature, too.’

  ‘Aye, his posterior recorded for posterity.’

  ‘Turn that pause button aff, John. Ah’ve seen his arse often enough – ah don’t need a film of it.’

  ‘D’you no remember any of this?’

  Ah shook ma heid.

  ‘Thank God the weans had went hame by then. Ah mean, video nasties is all very well, but Jimmy’s arse …’

  Anne Marie. Ah’d forgotten aboot Anne Marie. She hadnae seen me, but noo there was this video – how was ah gonnae make sure she didnae watch it? She’d remember there was a video – if ah said, ‘Naw, you cannae see it,’ she’d really think there was sumpn up. And it wasnae just the showin ma bum – she’d just think that was funny. It was everythin, the humiliation of it. Ah was pissed oot ma heid, crawlin around on a flair that drunk ah could hardly speak and it was all recorded on a video camera. That’s the thing aboot gettin steamed – you don’t remember it and if you dae it’s through a fog so it doesnae seem that bad, and everybuddy else has had a few so it doesnae matter.

  But this. Twelve year auld and you see yer daddy lookin like a complete tosser. Ah couldnae bear it. And the resty them just seemed tae think it was a laugh. Even Liz.

  ‘Whit’s up Jimmy? You’re lookin very serious.’

  ‘He’s wishin the make-up artist had put on a bit mair powder, covered ower they plukes a bit.’

  ‘It’s no funny.’

  ‘Aw come on, son, a dab of thon Clearasil and they’ll be away like magic.’

  ‘It’s no funny.’

  ‘Have you lost yer sense a humour, man? You were pissed. We all were.’

  ‘It’s humiliatin.’

  ‘Aw, come on, we all make fools ae wersels when we’re pissed. Ah’ve seen you worse. Ah’ve seen masel worse.’

  ‘Aye, but it’s different, seein it on a screen.’

  ‘It’s just us that are watchin it, though, ah mean it’s no gettin broadcast on Sky, is it?’

  ‘If Anne Marie had been here the night she’d of seen this.’

  ‘If she’d stayed a bit later last night she’d of seen you daein it in the flesh, if you’ll pardon the pun.’

  ‘You don’t need tae remind me. Ah feel sick.’

  ‘It’s just yer stomach gettin back tae normal. You’ll be fine the morra.’

  Ah stood up.

  ‘Ah cannae believe this. Yous are actin as if nothin has happened.’

  Ah pressed the eject button and pulled the tape oot. Ah held it in ma haund.

  ‘Is this the only copy?’

  ‘Aye, Peter’s gonnae make us a couple mair this week but he gied me the master so’s we could watch it right away.’

  There was a perra scissors sittin on tap of the mantelpiece. Ah broke open the tape, pulled it oot the casin, the long black strip a film fanklin as it fell ontae the flair. Then ah lifted the scissors and started cuttin the film tae bits.

  John jumped up and tried tae get it oot ma haund but it was too late. Ah held it high in the air above his heid as he started tae wrestle it oot ma haund.

  ‘John, watch yersel on they scissors.’

  Tricia tried tae pull him away. Liz just sat there stunned.

  ‘Whit the fuck dae you think you’re daein? That’s ma tape you’re wreckin.’

  ‘Ah don’t want ma wee lassie seein me like that. And ah don’t want anybuddy else tae see it ever again.’

  Ah pushed him away fae me and continued cuttin, pullin mair tape oot and cuttin till there was nae way it could be repaired.

  John was sittin on the flair, Tricia’s airm round him.

  ‘Come on, John, let’s go.’

  ‘Ah’m really sorry, John, Tricia, ah don’t know whit’s got intae him the night.’

  ‘It’s OK. Talk tae you later.’

  Liz showed them oot the door while ah went through tae the kitchen and stuck the tape in the bin. Liz came through once they were away.

  �
�Whit was all that about?’

  She didnae sound angry, just confused, but ah couldnae talk aboot it then.

  ‘Ah’m gaun oot for a walk.’

  ‘Jimmy, watch yersel …’

  ‘Ah’m OK. Ah’m just gaun oot for a walk. Ah’ll be back later. See you.’

  At first ah started tae walk, just walk, no thinkin aboot where ah was gaun. Everythin was a blur. Ah kept ma heid doon watchin the pavement, grey wi rain, and the smudged headlights a motors rushin by. Ah kept walkin, doon Maryhill Road past the pubs, lookin that welcomin in the daurk night, the sound a folk laughin and talkin. But it was the drink that made me dae whit ah done last night. Ah’d destroyed the tape, made sure naebuddy would see it again, but ah couldnae erase it fae ma heid. It kept runnin and rerunnin itsel ower and ower again tae ah stopped, put ma haunds roond ma heid and pressed against it, tryin tae press it away. Ah was staundin, hauf leanin against a wall and a wee wifie came up tae me, put her haund on ma airm.

  ‘Are you OK, son?’

  ‘Aye, ah’m fine.’

  ‘You sure? You better away hame the noo.’

  ‘Aye, right, missus.’

  Hame. Ah couldnae go hame the noo. Couldnae face Liz, didnae know whit tae say tae her. She’d want tae talk aboot how ah’d reacted tae the video, mibbe she’d take John’s side. She didnae seem that bothered aboot it, that’s whit ah couldnae unnerstaund. As if it was sumpn ordinary. But, naw, ah couldnae face that the now. Ah kept walkin, heidin intae toon, and ah knew at the back of ma mind that ah’d end up at the Centre.

  Ah knew it wasnae open on Sunday nights but ah wanted tae see the Rinpoche, needed tae be wi him, somewhere quiet, somewhere away fae all this. Ah rung the buzzer and it was him answered.

  ‘Come on up, Jimmy.’

  As soon as ah got up the stair and inside the lobby ah felt a great weight drain away fae me. It was that quiet and peaceful. Ah untied ma laces and took aff ma shoes.

  ‘Ah’m sorry tae disturb you, Rinpoche, ah just couldnae think of anywhere else tae go.’

  ‘You are very welcome. Please come through. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Aye, that’d be brilliant.’

  Ah went intae the kitchen wi him and he started fillin the kettle, settin oot mugs. Ah sat on the chair just watchin him. He done everythin that carefully, placin the mugs on a tray, layin tea biscuits in a fan shape on a plate, as if he’d aw the time in the world. When the tea was made, he smiled at me.

  ‘I think we’ll go through to the other room where we can talk.’

  There was a room where folk could see the Rinpoche privately, just big enough for a coupla cushions and a coffee table. He put the tea-tray doon and sat cross-legged on the flair. He waved at the cushions.

  ‘Make yourself comfortable, Jimmy.’

  Ah hauf-sat, hauf-knelt, and lifted ma tea fae the tray. The Rinpoche sipped his and smiled at me. Noo ah was here ah didnae really know whit tae say. It seemed totally oot of place tae start tellin the Rinpoche aboot me gettin steamed and smashin the video, so ah sat for a minute, sippin ma tea and just bein there wi him.

  ‘So, Jimmy, you have something on your mind?’

  ‘Aye, don’t know where tae stert. It’s just, well, ah done sumpn really stupit, made a right fool of masel, and it’s no even that really – it’s just that everybuddy else thinks it’s no that bad and ah feel as if ah don’t unnerstaund them any mair.’

  ‘Your family?’

  ‘Aye, Liz and ma brother John maistly, but it’s everybuddy really. Ah mean, we had this big party last night and it was brilliant and ah was havin a great time and everybuddy was celebratin, and noo … ah’m just totally confused.’

  ‘Would it help to meditate with me, Jimmy?’

  ‘Ah don’t know, Rinpoche, ah feel as if ah’ve been kiddin masel on. Ah’ve been daein aw this meditation and tryin tae get clear and ah’m just nae further forward. See ah got pissed oot ma heid last night, know, drunk and ah just … well, how come ah can dae the meditation and then it has nae effect on the resty ma life? It seems tae be makin it worse, no better.’

  ‘How do you mean exactly?’

  ‘Well if ah hadnae been meditatin ah’d probly have got pissed and we’d all have had a good laugh aboot it the next day. But noo ah’ve had a big fight wi ma brother. Ah destroyed the tape of his party.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Ah didnae want embdy tae see it – didnae want Anne Marie tae see her daddy like that.’

  ‘I see. Jimmy, you know in your job when you are painting people’s houses how do you prepare the room?’

  Ah looked at him. ‘Prepare the room?’

  ‘Tell me the steps you go through.’

  ‘Well you start strippin the auld wallpaper.’

  ‘And when you’ve started doing that, does it look better or worse than before?’

  ‘Worse usually, you mean when the paper’s hauf stripped and that, aye?’

  ‘That’s right. And then when the room is all decorated and finished … it looks better again, yes?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘The mind is like a house, with many rooms. And some people’s houses are very clean and tidy and clear while other people’s houses have lots of junk in them. But our minds are very clever – we can keep some parts of our minds tidy by pushing the junk into other rooms. The meditation process is one of clearing. We need to clear the junk from the rooms we don’t use, to pull it out, look at it. And it can get very messy for a while. But if we don’t do it we don’t ever get clear. I think you are just starting, Jimmy.’

  Ah sat quiet for a minute, thinkin aboot whit he said. It made so much sense. Ah could see it that clear; ah minded a cartoon in a comic we used tae get when we were wee, called the Numskulls, ah think. Each picture was of a heid cut doon the middle so you could see inside. It was just like that, as if there was wee hooses inside the brain. Each section had a wee guy in it, controllin whit was happenin. When the person was sleepin the eyes would be havin a kip and when he was eatin the mouth would start workin overtime.

  ‘Jimmy, let’s go into the meditation room.’

  We sat doon in fronty the Buddha, just me and him. It was the first time ah’d ever meditated alone wi him.

  ‘Instead of doing the mindfulness of breathing I want you to sit and observe yourself. Observe your breath, observe your body, what it feels like. Take your attention round your body and just note how it’s feeling; don’t correct, don’t judge, just feel. Then try to think of each of the people in your life that mean the most to you; your daughter, your wife, your brother. Take each of them into your consciousness and allow yourself to be conscious of how you feel about them. Don’t try to force a feeling, don’t try to feel good about them if you don’t – just let the feelings come and go as they wish, but without judgement.’

  So ah done what he said. At first when he was tellin me it sounded dead complicated but he helped me, talked me through each part. It was as if ah’d never felt ma body afore; felt the tightness in ma airms and legs, the openness of ma chest, the wee niggles that ran aboot inside me that usually ah never even think aboot. Then as ma breathin slowed doon and ah sterted tae feel mair relaxed he took me through each person in turn. That was the really hard bit because as each feelin came up he tellt me no tae judge it. Wi Anne Marie ah just felt that ashamed that ah’d let her doon, even though she’d no seen me. Ah mean here she is, nearly a teenager, wi a daddy that acts like an eejit and all the time he’s gaun tae meditation classes. Then Liz. That was haurd too cos ah love her – always have – but somehow ah cannae get her tae unnerstaund how this is that important tae me. There’s a gap openin up between us. Ah can feel it and ah’m scared. Ah don’t want it tae be like this but ah don’t know whit tae dae. And John, ma brother. There we are pissed oot wer heids sayin how much we love each other and we cannae dae it when we’re sober.

  The tears sterted tae come, right runnin doon ma cheeks, and ma body was heavin, don’t think ah’ve grat
like that since a was a wee boy. Ah sat on the cushions, shudderin wi sobs and these big snotters runnin doon ma face. The Rinpoche handed me a great big white hanky; ah blew ma nose and it sounded like a car backfirin in the quiet of the meditation room. And ah fund masel startin tae laugh, hauf-laughin, hauf-greetin. The Rinpoche put his haund on ma airm and said very quietly. ‘Good work, Jimmy. Good cleaning.’

  Anne Marie

  AH GOT PICKED for the school show the day. At regi Mr Henderson announced that the list of names was up on the noticeboard so ah rushed doon at break time, pushin ma way through tae see. Charlene’s name wisnae there and she was a bit pissed aboot it. When ah went tae sit next tae her in the Fuel Zone she never said anythin though, just kept talkin tae Roseanne. Roseanne’s a big skinny lassie, wears dead short skirts and keeps her Gap top over her school sweatshirt in class if she can get away wi it. She always hangs aboot wi us noo.

  Ah was desperate tae talk aboot it but ah didnae like tae say anythin in front of Charlene so ah just sat there, eatin ma crisps, listenin tae them gaun on aboot Keir Simpson, a boy in second year. Charlene’s daft aboot him.

  ‘He’s nippin a lassie in third year,’ says Roseanne.

  ‘Third year? You’re no serious.’

  ‘He is so.’

  ‘A lassie in third year widnae get aff wi a second year boy.’

  ‘Ah’m tellin yous. Alison McKechnie. Ma sister’s in her class. They were all slaggin her aboot baby snatchin.’