Warwick Collins - Gents

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Ezekial Murphy, a West Indian immigrant, takes up a new job as an attendant at a large London lavatory. The supervisor, Josiah Reynolds, and Jason, a third West Indian, explain that their main problem is the casual sex which takes place in the cubicles.Under pressure from the council authorities to reduce such behaviour, they expect Ez to help them in 'cleaning out the swamp'.Each of the protagonists brings his own moral assumptions to the question. Ez, a devout Adventist, is shocked by such revelations. Jason, a Rastafarian, believes that this kind of sex occurs because 'Whitey' is inherently corrupt. Reynolds, who takes more pragmatic view, is concerned to prevent further illicit encounters in case the council attempts to close the establishment down. Subtly influenced by the women in their lives, Ez, Reynolds and Jason - their future employment prospects in jeopardy – must take a fresh look at their work and at themselves.

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CHAPTER 3

Later that afternoon the three of them, Ez, Reynolds, and Jason, were taking tea in Reynolds’ office.

Reynolds said, “How your first day going?”

“OK, man.”

Jason sat in his chair chewing a biscuit.

Ez said, “Funny thing happen to me.”

Reynolds sipped his tea. “What?”

“I was wanting to visit a cubicle – you know. Someone come out and so I know it is free. I go to open the door and … another man come out.”

Reynolds watched him carefully, as though trying to calculate Ez’s comprehension.

After a while, Reynolds said, “So?”

Ez shrugged. “I don’t understand it. Two men in there.”

Reynolds sipped his tea and chewed his biscuit.

“What don’t you understand?”

“One man sitting, one man waiting. Why don’t he wait outside?”

Ez looked at Reynolds’ face. Some faint appreciation entered his thoughts.

Reynolds considered him. He observed several expressions move across Ez’s features.

Ez said, “You don’t –”

Jason seemed embarrassed more by Ez’s innocence than the subject under discussion. He shook his head and looked away.

Finally Reynolds said, “You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Happening all the time,” Jason said.

“What happening?” Ez asked.

“All the time,” Reynolds repeated. “Reptiles.”

Ez looked from one face to the other.

“Men are …? Two in …”

“Sometimes three.”

“No.”

Jason said, “One time, five.”

“Five?” Ez was incredulous.

Jason nodded. “Five walk out.”

They paused. Ez sipped his tea and considered. Neither of the other two spoke.

After a few moments, Ez said, “What you do about it?”

Reynolds shrugged. “Stop it getting out of hand.”

Jason moved on his chair and nodded. “That the truth.”

Ez said, “Why they wanting to do this, man?”

“We don’t ask why, man,” Reynolds said. His voice had the singsong of patois. “We don’t keep their conscience, we only keeping order.”

“Why they do it here?” Ez asked. “Why not somewhere else?”

“Where else?”

“Better than out on the street,” Jason said.

Reynolds and Jason laughed softly. Jason said, as if by way of confirmation, “Better than the pavement.”

Ez waited patiently for their mirth to subside.

“They got a compulsion,” Reynolds explained. “You see them, looking about, hoping to catch someone’s eye.”

“What you do to stop them?”

“We can’t stop them looking about, man. If they loiter too long, maybe, we ask them to move along.”

“Sometimes another one come,” Jason said. “They go into a cubicle. Two of them.”

“How?”

“When you not looking. One go first. Wait awhile. Then another. Slippery, man. But once you know they in there, you can make it difficult. You knock on the door. If nothing happen, you put a big stick under the door, rattle it about.”

“A big stick?”

Reynolds stood up, walked to the farthest corner, and picked up an oversize wooden walking-stick that leaned against the wall.

“You knock this against their ankles.”

Jason said, “You rattle their cage, man.” He laughed openly, shaking his head.

“Sometimes it doesn’t work,” Reynolds said. “Sometimes nothing happen.”

Ez swallowed. “What then?”

“You just have to wait for them to come out.”

Ez didn’t bother to hide his consternation. He knew he was under observation but he had moved beyond surprise. He looked from one to the other. Reynolds gave him a straight stare. Jason softly shook his head and turned away.

In the evening, as Ez took off his overalls and put his mop in the cupboard, Reynolds asked, “First day all right?”

“Fine.”

“Think you last?”

“Believe so.”

Jason drifted out on his way out through the side-door.

“Bye, man.”

Reynolds put on a scarf and coat. “See you tomorrow.”

Ez nodded. He followed Reynolds out into the winter dusk. He heard Reynolds lock the heavy door behind them, using several keys. Then he walked towards the underground station, past the grey and blue fluorescent lighting of the shops.

CHAPTER 4

Martha set a meal of mackerel and maize on the table in front of Ez. She sat down and watched him eat, her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands.

Ez took several mouthfuls. He said, “You not eatin’?”

“I ate earlier.”

Ez nodded. He glanced up at Martha and saw she was still watching him.

Martha said, “So how was it?”

“OK.”

“You like the others?”

“Mr Reynolds is the supervisor. Jason is the other cleaner.”

Martha said, “You get on?”

Between mouthfuls, Ez replied, “I get on fine.” He paused. “Where’s Stevie?”

“He’s out.”

“Not with that bad crowd?”

“Maybe not,” Martha said. “He tell me different.”

“Some fellows from West Kingston living round Buckle Street. Northampton estate. Some real bad boys. Seen them on the streets. Easy money.” He moved mackerel onto his fork with his knife. “Maybe afterwards, I go take a look for Stevie.”

Martha put a restraining hand on his elbow.

Ez watched her hand, the pale fingernails. He always liked the way the flesh sat on her fingers, firm.

Martha said, “I know where he is.”

“Where?”

“At the hairdresser’s.” She paused. “Biziou’s.”

“Getting a haircut?”

Martha smiled. “No. Learnin’.”

“Learnin’?”

“Learnin’. Takin’ up a new job, like you.”

Ez’s fork hovered.

“Stevie?”

Martha nodded. “It’s a good trade.”

Ez said, “He don’t play football no more.”

“Ez.” Martha’s fingers seemed to caress his arm. “Steve’s good at football, but he’s not so good. It’s not an easy life.”

“Application,” Ez said. He watched her hand retreat, almost with regret, then he returned to his eating. Martha seemed about to leave the table. He felt conciliatory.

“He’s good,” Ez said. “He could be something. The best in his youth club. Nothing to stop him. One day maybe he play for a club, maybe Arsenal.”

“Ez, don’t make Stevie do what you didn’t do.”

“He’s different,” Ez said. “I had a wife and kid, responsibilities. He got none. He could still do it.”

“Training, day in day out, for his father’s ambition.”

When he had finished, Martha said, “You want some more?”

Ez shook his head.

“I go make some coffee.”

Ez watched as she got up and went to the cooker. He glanced down at the table in thought. After a while, he pushed his plate away from him. He had wanted to say something about the work, about his consternation and doubt.

“How your day?” he called out. She worked part time at the social services department at Lambeth, doing clerical work. The extra income was useful.

“Not so bad.”

He could see Martha’s back through the kitchen door as she rinsed plates while waiting for the kettle to boil. By the poise of her neck and the angle of her head he could tell that she was thinking about something. She was not usually so uncommunicative. He knew that the subject of Stevie affected her too.

CHAPTER 5

Ez hung up his coat and hat. He put on his green overall. At the end of the room Reynolds was talking to Jason, outlining an object with his hands. Jason nodded in greeting to Ez over Reynolds’ shoulder.

Occasional customers moved back and forth from the urinals. Sometimes the door of a cubicle banged.

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