Tommy looks well. It’s terrifying. He’s gaunny die. Sometime between the next few and fifteen years, Tommy will be no more. The chances are that ah’ll be exactly the same. The difference is, we ken this wi Tommy.
¾
Awright Tommy, ah sais. He looks so well.
¾
Aye, he sais. Tommy’s sitting in a battered armchair. The air smells ay damp,
and rubbish that should have been pit oot ages ago.
¾
How ye feelin?
¾
No bad.
¾
Want tae talk aboot it? Ah huv tae ask.
¾
No really, he sais, like he does.
Ah sit down awkwardly, in an identical chair. It feels
hard, and has springs coming through. Many years ago, this wis some rich cunt’s
chair. It’s hud at least a couple ay decades in poor homes though. Now it’s
winded up wi Tommy.
Now ah see that Tommy doesnae look so well. Thir’s
something missin, some part ay him; as if he’s an incomplete jigsaw puzzle.
It’s mair thin shock or depression. It’s like a bit ay Tommy’s awready died, n
ah’m mourin fir it. Ah realise now thit death is usually a process, rather than
an event. People generally die by degrees, incrementally. They rot away slowly
in homes and hoespitals, or places like this.
Tommy cannae get oot ay West Granton. He’s blown
things wi his Ma. This is one ay the varicose-vein flats, called so because of
the plastered cracks all over its facing. Tommy got it through the council’s
hotline. Fifteen thousand people on the waiting list and naebody wanted this
one. It’s a prison. It’s no really the council’s fault; the Government made
them sell off all the good hooses, leaving the dross for the likes ay Tommy. It
makes perfect sense politically. There’s nae votes for the Government doon
here, so why bother daein anything fir people whae urnae gaunnae support ye?
Morally, it’s another thing. What’s morality goat tae dae wi politics, but?
It’s aw aboot poppy.
¾
How’s London? he asks.
¾
No bad Tommy. Really jist the same as up here, ken.
¾
Aye, ah bet, he sais, sarcastically.
PLAGUER wis painted on the heavy plywood-enforced door
in big, black letters. Also HIVER and JUNKY. Draftpak kids will harass anybody.
Naebody’s said anything tae Tommy’s face yet. Tommy’s a tidy bastard, he
believes in what Begbie caws the discipline ay the baseball bat. He’s also goat
hard mates, like Beggars, and no-sae-hard mates, like me. In spite ay this,
Tommy will become mair vulnerable tae persecution. His friends will decline in
their numbers as his needs increase. The inverse, or perverse, mathematics ay
life.
¾
You took the test, he sais.
¾
Aye.
¾
Clear?
¾
Aye.
Tommy looks at us. It’s like he’s angry and pleading,
baith at the same time.
¾
You used mair thin me. And ye shared works. Sick Boy’s, Keezbo’s, Raymie’s,
Spud’s, Swanney,s ... ye used Matty’s fir fuck sake. Tell us ye nivir used
Matty’s works!
¾
Ah nivir shared, Tommy. Every cunt sais that, but ah nivir shared, no in the
galleries, anyway, ah telt um. Funny, ah’d forgotten aw aboot Keezbo. He’d been
inside now fir a couple ay year. Been meanin tae go and visit the cunt fir
donks. Ah ken thit ah’ll nivir git roond tae it though.
¾
Bullshit! Cunt! You fuckin shared! Tommy leans forward. He’s startin tae great.
Ah remember thinking that if he did, ah might n aw. Aw ah feel though, is an
ugly, choking anger.
¾
Ah nivir shared, ah shake ma heid.
He sits back and smiles tae himself; no even looking
at us as he talks reflectively, now without any bitterness.
¾
Funny how it aw works oot, eh? It wis you n Spud n Sick Boy n Swanney n that,
thit goat us intae the H. Ah used tae sit n huv a bevvy wi Second Prize n
Franco an laugh at yis, call yis aw the daft cunts under the sun. Then ah split
fae Lizzy, mind? Went tae your bit. Ah asked ye fir a hit. Ah thoat, fuck it,
ah’ll try anythin once. Been tryin it once ivir since.
Ah remember that. Christ, it wis only a few months
ago. Some poor bastards are just so much more predisposed tae addiction wi
certain drugs than others. Like Second Prize wi pish. Tommy took tae the skag
wi a vengeance. Nae cunt kin really control it, but ah’ve known some fuckers,
like myself, tae accommodate it. Ah’ve kicked a few times now. Kicking and
using again is like gaun tae prison. Everytime ye go to jail, the probability
ay ye ever becoming free fae that kind ay life decreases. It’s the same every
time ye go back tae smack. Ye decrease yir chances ay ever bein able tae dae
withoot it. Wis it me thit encouraged Tommy tae take that first shot, jist by
having the gear thair? Possibly. Probably. How guilty did that make us? Guilty
enough.
¾
Ah’m really sorry, Tommy.
¾
Ah dinnae ken whit tae fuckin dae, Mark. Whit ah’m ah gaunnae dae?
Ah just sit here, heid slightly bowed. Ah wanted tae
tell Tommy: Git oan wi yir life. It’s aw ye can dae. Look eftir yirsel. Ye
might no git bad. Look at Davie Mitchell. Davie’s one ay Tommy’s best mates.
He’s HIV and he’s nivir used skag in his puff. Davie’s okay though. He leads a
normal life, well as normal a life as any cunt ah ken leads.
But ah know that Tommy cannae afford ta