Irvine Welsh - A Decent Ride

— Wee Jonty. . eh goes, — saw ye lickin that windae thaire! Still an awfy laddie for pittin things in yir mooth, ey goes, aw sly.

Ah dinnae like his bad talk, so ah sais nowt. But ah kin feel aw the wee spiders in my chist cause ay him. Then it aw goes quiet fir a bit, so ah sais, — Ah met Kind Terry, he’s yours n aw, ay? Kind Terry. Doonstairs in the taxi.

Real faither Henry’s aw weak, but eh sort ay comes a wee bit alive at that. — Terry. . Juice Terry? That fuckin bam? That fuckin waster? He’s nowt tae dae wi me!

N ah git ah annoyed cause Terry’s good, n ah’m thinkin aboot what he’s done. — Naebody’s nowt tae dae wi you! Even yir ain faimlay! It’s no right! God’ll punish ye!

Eh jist laughs at me. — Yir still no right in the heid, are ye, ma wee pal? Sometimes ah think ah should’ve let ye droon like a puppy or kitten in that harbour — mind whin ah pilled ye oot?

N ah feels ma heid hingin aw ashamed, cause eh did save ays, aye sur, aye eh did. — Aye. . ah mind, aye sur. .

— But yir a good yin, Jonty, yir no the worst ay thum, no like that Hank. . n ehs eyes light up. — How’s Karen? How’s ma wee golden girl? Nivir comes tae see hur auld faither! Ma wee golden girl. . aye, she liked pittin things in her mooth n aw!

N ah’m feelin aw seek thinkin ay Jinty aw gold n gaun doon that hole by the bridge, cause eh did call Karen that, cause ay her blonde hair, before she goat aw fat but, ay. — It’s no right what youse did! You made hur bad! You made us aw bad!

— She been talkin? Suppose thaire’s nowt tae dae doon thaire but talk, her n yir big fat ma. Aye, ah ey kent she’d run tae fat like her ma. That wis how ah hud tae brek her in, see, before she ran tae fat. Thaire’s nae guid ridin in a woman that’s run tae fat. It’s no jist the fat itsel, though that’s bad enough, it’s thit a lassie gets depressed when she runs tae fat. Nae guid ridin in a lassie that’s depressed, he shakes his heid, — yir jist gaun through the motions.

Ah’m hearin aw they noises in ma heid n ah’m thinkin ay Karen oan the couch n her bad tooth n wee Jinty, aw blue n then gold, n gaun doon the hole, a fly comin oot her mooth. . — What you. . what you did. . what you did wis aw wrong!

Eh jist creases up his auld wee face intae a smile. — Whae’s tae say what’s right n what’s wrong, Jonty? N eh points tae the ceilin wi ehs bony hand. — He’ll decide, no you or naebody doon here, that’s fir sure.

— What dae ye mean?

Eh looks right at this wee telly eh’s goat, yin that comes right oot oan a metal leg. Thaire’s this programme aboot animals oan. Ah would watch but ah huv tae stoap cause they kin sometimes make ye greet when it’s a shame for them. Sometimes folks cannae see it but, cause ye learn tae greet inside. — Is it right thit thaire’s aw this pollution, wipin oot different species every day?

Eh’s tryin tae trick us wi words again. Ah pits ma fingers in ma ears. — Ah’ve goat tae go!

N ah runs away oot the ward, n even though ma fingers ur in ma ears ah kin still hear his laughin voice n see that skull-heided smile. . aye, ah ken, ah do, aye sur, aye sur, aye sur. .

Cause ah am right in the heid, ah am. . Jinty’s fault. . an accident, aye sur. . but they’d nivir believe ays, they’d jist say he’s no right in the heid n eh’s goat a bad hert.

N ah’m phonin Kind Terry. — Awright, Jonty?

— Ah saw um, Terry, n eh wis bad like you said eh wid be. Eh said bad stuff, aye, he did that, sur, bad stuff that’s no right. . aw sur. . n ah’m sortay greetin, thinkin aboot him n Karen n Jinty, n how it’s aw an awfay mess.

— Are ye still thaire, at the hoaspital?

— Aye. .

— You hud oan thaire, mate, n ah’ll pick ye up. Ah’m no far, ah’ll be thaire in five minutes.

— Aye. . yir kind, Terry, aye sur. . aye ye are. .

— Jonty. Five minutes, mate, eh sais n the line goes deid.

But it’s awfay nice ay um n it cheers ays thit thaire’s guid people in the world like Terry, like new half-brar Terry , tae make up fir the badness ay him up thaire. So ah goes n hus another wee shot at makin the doors open n shut again. But the man in the uniform comes ower n sais tae stoap it or ah’ll brek the doors.

— How many times kin ye open n shut them before they brek?

— Ah dinnae ken!

— But how dae ye ken ah’ll brek thum then?

— You bein wide?

— Naw, ah jist want tae ken how many times ye kin dae it before it breks, soas ah’ll ken no tae dae it that many times!

— Ah dinnae ken! But stoap it! Yir causin an awfay draught, eh goes, so ah stoaps. Ah wis gaunny say thit ah wis tryin tae lit some fresh air in, but here’s Terry anywey and ah’m headin oot n ah’m climbin intae the safe taxi wi him, n the meter’s no oan again. — Lit’s git ye hame, pal, Terry goes.

Eftir a bit ay drivin doon the road, Kind Terry sais, — Tell me, Jonty, dae you ever get voices in yir heid?

— Aye, ah dae! But it’s like me, jist talkin tae masel! Aye sur! Dae you git thum n aw, Terry?

— Aye. N they used tae say jist one thing: cowp thon. Now thir sayin aw sorts ay shite, n ah dinnae like it, mate. It’s worse at night, when ah’m tryin tae git oaf tae sleep.

— Aye sur, at night.

— Kip, Terry sais, — ah’d gie anything fir one fuckin night ay peaceful kip!

N Terry droaps ays hame n ah gits intae the stair n sees where ah pit the barry back in the stair the other night, n now Jinty’s away wi the trams. Ah’m awfay worried that the polis’ll come tae ma door. Ah cannae settle in the hoose n before ah ken it ah’m doon The Pub Wi Nae Name, n ah’ve sectioned it aw oaf by the jukebox. Ah jist want tae kid oan ah’m normal, n dae ma paintin. So that’s me back at it, blottin thum aw oot, jist concentratin. Aye sur, jist concentratin. The paintin.

— Yir daein a guid joab, Jonty, Jake says.

Aye, but a guid joab disnae stoap aw thaim fae bein here, naw sur, it does not. Aye, cause thir aw here awright, n thir aw drinkin. Aye, they are. N daein the devil’s poodir as well, ye kin tell by the wey thir gaun tae that toilet in pairs, aye sur, in pairs. Poodir it’ll be, ay that ah’ve nae doots. Naw sur.

— Whaire ye been, Jonty? Tony goes.

Craig Barksie shouts, — Been giein wee Jinty the message again, ya dirty wee cunt? Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

— Kin tell by the look oan ehs face, eh! Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi! Tony goes.

— Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

Dinnae listen tae thair voices, thair laughin voices, jist keep oan paintin. .

— Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

— Dirty wee cunt! Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

It’s no right, nae sur, it’s no right at aw. .

— Dirty lucky wee cunt! When did last git your hole, ya cunt? Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

Ah want tae go, it isnae right bein here. . keep paintin. .

— Cheeky cunt!

Naw sur, naw sur, naw sur. . dip the roller in the tray, squeeze oaf aw the durty big drips, run it ower that patch ay auld paint oan the waw. . once. . twice. .

— Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi!

. . like yon song once, twice, three times a lady, sung by the darkie boy that did the awfay nice song aboot stalkin the Chinky lassie, aye sur, eh did that, awfay nice song. .

Cause ah’m jist paintin away, loast in the paintin, no hearin thair bad voices, cause ah sees thum at thair table n ah dinnae like thair table, ah dinnae like this pub. N whin ah say ah dinnae like the table ah’m no gaun oan aboot the table itsel, ah’m gaun oan aboot the company at the table. It’s the company that’s wrong, the company that made ays fight wi ma wee Jinty. Aye they did. So when ah finish that bit whaire the jukey is ah tell Jake thit ah’m done fir the day.