James Kelman - A Disaffection

I didni know it was decided.

Well aye, more or less, I’m gonni pack it in all the gether. Uch Nicola I’m just bloody sick of working for the government, I’m sick of doing my bit to suppress the weans, not unless the headmaster starts letting me wear a polis uniform — if I can wear one of them that’s a different story. He grinned.

Nicola was not replying.

Okay? he said.

She dragged on her cigarette. Then she shrugged. I dont know Pat, ye just seem to make life difficult for yourself — but it runs in the family. And look at your dad! okay, I’m speaking as a smoker who’s been trying to stop it for ages, but I mean he’s actually smoking more now than ever he did. And it’s so awful, so selfish. Your mum’s going about in a daze and it’s awful to see it, and it’s because of him I mean she doesni know what time it is. It’s because of him.

Aw Nicola.

No aw Nicola Pat ye dont go beyond three strokes. What the hell’s he playing at? The next yin’s the last.

Pat rubbed his eyes. He closed them.

Ye canni talk to Gavin about it either. As soon as I begin I know I’ve to shut up. I know that he doesni want me to speak. He makes it quite plain. So it’s up to him, and you, what yous do; yous’re his sons. If ye want to tell him then ye can tell him.

Tell him what Nicola?

To stop killing himself, to take it easy, to give himself a chance.

We’ve all got to go.

Och dont say that it’s so bloody stupid and selfish, it’s no worthy of you.

Sorry.

I’m so sick of men and their problems … She placed her cigarette down on the ashtray and folded her arms, her elbows on the edge of the table; she stared at the cigarette burning, the smoke rising. Even the idea of you giving up your job … But it’s not my business.

Aye it is.

It’s not. It’s your business. It’s nobody else’s.

But Nicola it’s the family’s business that’s the bloody problem. I mean I think I actually only became a teacher to suit the family. Do ye know that? I definitely only went to university to suit them. Sometimes I think I’m only actually alive to suit them!

…

He smiled.

That’s a rotten thing to say.

He nodded. I think I’ll go away for an extended period; leave Glasgow. I sometimes feel as if I’m no longer capable of doing things that are good, things that are not bad. He smiled. That’s what I feel like. That’s why I think I better get away.

She shook her head. I dont know what you’re meaning.

No.

I dont Pat, I dont know what you’re meaning.

I only mean … he covered his eyes then uncovered them and clasped his hands together. I only mean, he said, that I canni be sure of my influence. What time is it? He glanced at his wristwatch.

Your influence! Your influence is great! Look at John and Elizabeth! And that wee story ye told them! Gavin says it was really amazing! It was really amazing, that was what he says to me.

…

Pat, honest.

I canni handle it.

Pat, for goodness sake.

I dont know what to do — but I do know what to do, get a bus home.

Pat, you’ve just got to get things worked out for yourself. And stop acting like a wee boy! Nicola smiled.

I dont know what ye mean.

The way you’re going on just now. Maybe all men are the same but. I get so sick of it, your moods, having to watch all the time not knowing when’s the right moment to ask something. Even listening to you just now … all you’re doing, complaining — if ye listen to yourself — complaining, that’s all you’re doing. Nicola smiled briefly and shook her head; she sighed and puffed on her cigarette. I dont understand ye. You’re clever and you’ve got a good well-paid job. You’ve only got yourself to look after. You can do whatever ye want. If ye dont like something ye can just get up and leave. You’re free. And yet you’re still no satisfied. That’s what I think’s wrong. But that’s always how things are: the ones that want something never get it and the ones that get it areni satisfied, they just want something else. She flicked ash at the ashtray.

After a moment Pat said, Aye but Nicola what you’re asking, you’re asking me no to think. That’s what you’re asking. And I dont think ye can do that. There’s too much at stake. I’m clear about that I mean christ that’s one thing, that’s one thing I’m clear about. Because I’ve got a job doesni mean I have to stick it because people dont have a job I mean that’s exactly what the system wants off ye; the last thing it wants is folk making their own decisions about working or not working and taking matters into their own hands, cause then the next thing ye know they’ll be acting as if they’re masters of their own fate and the next step on from there’s making social change, structural change. Revolutions dont come, you’ve got to make them happen yourself. And once people start making their own decisions, well, that’s when things might start to happen. At long last — because they dont feel: O I’ve got a job and they haveni so I better look after it. I mean that’s crazy, it’s mental, as a way of thinking, a stupit logic, totally mad.

Nicola sighed. I dont accept what you’re saying.

Look at my da then right, it’s no just because he smokes and likes a drink he’s ended up with three bloody heart attacks christ Nicola he’s been working in that crazy job for fucking donkeys’ years and worrying himself sick about it. Bloody job! It’s a joke too! It’s a joke-job. Most working-class jobs are the same, they’re jokes. Joke-jobs. Just a fucking joke! Patrick laughed briefly. He closed his eyes.

Are you as bitter as ye sound?

What do ye mean?

Ye sound so awful bitter Pat.

O aye well I am, I am bitter, awful bitter. Are you no?

Me?

Are you no awful bitter? I mean I canni understand people who arent awful bitter. I aye think there’s something up with them, that there must be something up with them; as if maybe they’ve never thought things out, otherwise they’d bound to be bitter. It’s like being black in Northamerica, if ye meet another black person who isni bitter. I think if it was me I’d be amazed and I’d just think well here’s another silly bastard who’s never sat down and thought about slavery and the way people are still getting totally fucked across there and even so much worse in places like fucking South Africa or whatever. That’s the way I feel here. I feel christ almighty look at the way my family’s been treated for the past few hundred years and my fucking belly drops out and I get so fucking angry just at the thought ye think ye might end up collapsing. I wish da had got his strokes because he was in an apoplectic rage … Patrick grinned. He glanced at the door and at the clear-faced clock on the wall. Nicola not saying a word.

What I try and do, he said, in the classroom I mean, is just make the weans angry. And other folk as well; I try and make them angry. That includes relations!

Nicola was still saying nothing.

Because making them angry’s a start. That’s something. Even just making them angry. I was trying to make big Arthur angry earlier on. I didni really succeed. I was trying to make him angry, I didni succeed. I have a lot of failures. My failure rate is quite high. I get reminders about it at school. I get subtle tellings off. But I dont care, ha ha ha. Naw but seriously, I dont. I really do not care one way or the other. Ach.

Pat covered his face with his hands and he sighed, feeling the muscles at the back of his neck. All I seem to do is talk. He rubbed his hands together, the slight stickiness, dampness. Funny thing is too, he said, this past wee while back I’ve been starting to feel quite okay again. And I feel as I haveni been feeling quite okay for bloody years. If I have I dont bloody remember. Maybe I was and just wasni aware of it. Maybe ye can be happy without knowing it. Maybe as soon as ye start knowing it that’s you stopped being it. Straight existential psychology I suppose. It’s hopeless if ye reflect too much on yourself.