Buddha Da (24 page)

Ah didnae know whit tae say. Ah suppose ah’d no really thought aboot his side of it afore, just assumed he was gettin everythin he wanted.

‘Ah’m sorry, ah will speak tae her.’

‘Afore next week?’

‘OK.’

‘Liz, ah know it’s no easy, but ah don’t want tae go on like this, and if you’re no gonnae tell her ah’d raither get oot afore it gets too heavy, OK?’

We kissed, and he stroked ma hair and ah went aff, and it was like every other time ah’d left him in his room, in the darkness, and went oot intae the dull light of the close. But it wasnae, for there was somethin in the way he turned away fae me as ah left. Just very slightly, probably he never knew he was daein it hissel, but it was there; tellt me he was preparin hissel in case ah didnae tell her, in case he needed tae move away fae me. Ah knew it hadnae happened yet, but ah knew he was capable: if it fell apart, he’d go oot and get pissed, lie in his bed a few nights watchin the light fade while he listened tae the Beta Band; then wan day he’d notice a lassie in the library or in a café or in Iceland daein her messages, and that would be it. Over. And ah knew ah’d need tae make up ma mind whether ah could bear that better than ah could bear the look that might come intae Anne Marie’s eyes when ah tellt her.

But ah never got the chance tae make that decision.

It’s strange when you look back over your life and try tae see it as if you were somebody else – God, mibbe, lookin at it fae up in the sky. When ah was a wee lassie ah was always imaginin God lookin doon, watchin the thing ah was
daein right that minute; eatin a biscuit, learnin tae jump in the ropes wioot missin. When you’re a wean that’s whit yer life is, just a series of moments. Then as you get aulder it changes somehow, becomes bigger.

When Anne Marie was wee ah can remember her askin ‘Is it today?’ and me sayin ‘It’s always today.’ That’s whit it’s like for Jimmy – it drives me daft the way he never seems tae remember that we’re gaun oot somewhere or the van needs taxed. Ah’m the right opposite; for me it’s never today, it’s always the morra. Every night ah look at the calendar and think aboot whit ah’ve got tae prepare for the morra, or next week. Is there ironin tae be done, any messages tae get, dae ah need tae take sumpn oot the freezer for the morra’s dinner?

When ah grew up ah stopped livin fae moment tae moment, always too busy gettin somewhere. Ah wish ah could see ma life spread oot in front of me, as if ah was up in the sky; like an astronaut lookin at a river, seein the start and the middle and the end of it as it flows tae the sea. If ah could of looked at it like that, fae ootside, ah suppose whit happened next was inevitable, though at the time ah was shocked, couldnae unnerstaund how it had happened.

Ah mean, there ah was, checkin we’d enough pasta, that the sell-by date on the yoghurt was long enough tae dae the week’s lunches, puttin the date on the calendar when the library books were due back.

So did ah dae it deliberately then? Did ah mean for it tae happen? Ah didnae sit doon and plan it oot, didnae stick holes in the condom or tell him it was safe when it wasnae; in fact, at the time it was the last thing on ma mind. But then whit has yer mind got tae dae wi it?

MR HENDERSON LED
the class up the stair tae the yella door. Ah hung back as everyone piled intae the narrow hallway. Ah was hopin the lamas wouldnae be there, or at least wouldnae recognise me, prayed they’d no say anythin aboot ma da in fronty the others. When Mr Henderson had announced we were gaun on a visit tae the Buddhist Centre as part of wer RE course ah nearly died. Ah even thought of sayin ah was sick but Mammy never lets you stay aff school unless you’ve a temperature of a hundred and fifty and spots the size of ten pence pieces. Ah’d visions of us walkin in and ma daddy sittin there cross-legged on a cushion in fronty the Buddha. But of course there was no way he’d be there on a Tuesday mornin at ten o’clock – he’d be at his work so ah was probably safe.

Ah still wished ah was invisible as we crowded intae a room wi chairs set oot in rows. It wouldnae of been as bad if Nisha’d been there but she wasnae in ma RE class. Mr Henderson started talkin aboot when the Centre was opened and what it was for and all that. Sammy Rinpoche was staundin at the front beside him.

‘The lama is going to take us into the meditation room and go through a meditation with us. We’ve gone over meditation in class already. Does anyone want to ask him any questions now before we go in?’ He looked at Kevin. ‘Sensible questions now.’

Angela put up her haund. ‘Do yous meditate all the time?’

‘Not all the time. We eat and sleep, we watch the TV just like you.’

‘D’yous have Sky?’ says Kevin.

‘I said sensible questions,’ says Mr Henderson. ‘Are there any more?’

‘When did yous come over fae Tibet?’ asked Peter.

‘We did not come over from Tibet,’ says the lama. ‘We came from India.’

‘Sir, you said they lamas were Tibetan.’

‘We are originally from Tibet but we had to leave our own country when we were very young. We have never been able to go home. When the Chinese took over the government they started to shut down monasteries and many people fled to India. That is where we trained as monks.’

‘That’s where you come fae in’t it, Khalil?’ says Kevin.

‘Don’t be daft, he comes fae Pakistan.’

‘Ah do not,’ says Khalil. ‘Ah come fae Govan.’

‘Look, can we stop this – I don’t think you have learned much in RE this term, Kevin. I’ll need to speak to your
parents about extra homework.’ He turned to the rest of us. ‘Right, let’s go through to the meditation room.’

As they all filed in ah held back, thinkin aboot the lamas, havin tae flee their ain country and go tae India tae learn tae be monks, then comin here. And no allowed tae go back. Ah wondered what it was like, Tibet.

In the meditation room the lama was sittin cross-legged on the platform beside the statue of the Buddha.

‘Come over here and get some cushions everyone.’

Ah followed the others tae the heap of cushions. Kevin was just in front of me and when he bent over he said, ‘Check that, a sleepin bag – that’s for me!’ He started tae lift ma daddy’s sleepin bag and drag it tae the centre of the flair but Mr Henderson seen him and took it aff him.

‘Take two cushions, Kevin. You’re here to meditate, not kip.’

Ah could feel ma face flush bright red. Didnae know where tae look. Even though naebody could of known it was ma daddy’s sleepin bag ah was pure mortified. Ah picked up a couple of foam blocks and turned round.

Then ah seen it. On the opposite wall was a giant mural of the Buddha, sittin cross-legged in meditation wi that wee hauf-smile he always has. The background was rich dark greens and reds and the Buddha had an orange robe. The details of the picture were sketched oot and no all of them had been painted in yet but the effect was amazin. While ah stood lookin at it, Mr Henderson came up behind me. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’

‘Amazin.’

‘It wasn’t here the last time I brought a class for a visit. Really brightens up this room.’

* * *

Nisha and me went tae the library efter school that day. Ah’d a project for Geography hamework: pick a country and find oot all aboot it, dae research and write it up, stick in photies. And wi ma da stayin wi the lamas and the Tibetan chants on the CD and all that ah suppose Tibet was the obvious choice. Nisha’s class is daein History the now but she was gonnae help me surf the Net in the library. But when we got there the library was mobbed and all the computers were booked.

‘Sorry,’ says the wumman at the desk, flickin through her appointments sheet. ‘Friday between 10 a.m. and 11 a.m., next Monday at 3 p.m., Tuesday 12 p.m. or 2.30 p.m.?’

‘We’re at school then.’

‘How about a week on Saturday at 10.30 a.m.?’

‘OK. Thanks. Can you tell us where the atlases are, please?’

‘Reference section. Upstairs.’

Upstairs they’ve got big tables you can study at. There was hardly anybody there, just an auld guy wi a pile of big books spread out in front of him and a wee wumman fillin in a form. Nisha and me went over tae the shelf where the atlases were.

‘A week on Saturday – ah cannae believe it.’

‘Ah’d ask Gurpreet if we could use his computer, but you know what he’s like.’

‘It’s OK. Ah need tae look up the maps anyway.’

‘What about your mum’s computer?’

‘Doesnae have an Internet connection. Ma keeps sayin she’s gonnae get a modem but she’s just never got round tae it.’

The auld guy at the table cleared his throat and gied us a look. Nisha crossed her eyes and made a face at me then sat
doon as far away fae him as possible wi her Maths hamework. Ah pulled oot an atlas, laid it on the table and looked up the list of countries at the front.

‘Nisha,’ ah whispered. ‘Tibet’s no in this.’

She scanned the list.

‘Tuvalu – where the hell’s that?’

‘Havenae a scooby. Sounds like a toilet cleaner. Hey, they’ve even got the Vatican City.’

‘That’s a country?’

‘But Tibet isnae, apparently.’

‘Anne Marie, that’s it. It’s no a country.’

‘Aye it is, that’s where the lamas come fae.’

‘Have you looked under China?’

Ah remembered what the lamas had said aboot their country bein taken over by the Chinese.

Nisha turned tae the back of the atlas. ‘Look here it is … in the index. Tibet – see Xizang Zizhiqu, China.’

It gied me a shock, seein it like that. Ah’d kind of thought the Chinese werenae supposed tae be there. Last week the Dalai Lama was on the TV talkin tae somebody aboot Britain puttin pressure on China tae leave Tibet. But here it was in the atlas, doon in print.

There was a section at the front wi information and Xizang was in it, under China. Mrs MacBride had gied us a list of things we’d tae find oot and ah copied doon that it had an area of 1,228,400 sq km and a population of 2,280,000. Capital: Lhasa. Status: Autonomous Region. Cannae be that autonomous if they’re no allowed tae practise their religion.

‘Nisha,’ ah whispered. ‘They’ve only got the Chinese flag here – you’d think they’d have wan of their ain.’

‘Or a language.’

‘Tibetan.’

‘No according tae this. Still,’ she said, turnin back tae her Maths book. ‘Bet you Scotland’s no in it either.’

And it wasnae. No as a country anyway, just part of the UK. (Capital: London. Status: Monarchy.) And nae flag either. Or languages of wer ain.

There were all different kinds of maps in the atlas; population density, climate, physical. The wan ah liked best was the wan that showed the shapes of the mountains and the forests, all swirly patterns of brown and green. Ah’d always thought Scotland was a mountainous country but on the map we were nearly all green, and so was India, just under Tibet. The auld guy had packed his stuff and went by noo so ah nudged Nisha’s airm.

‘Nisha, d’yous still have relatives in India?’

‘Cousins, aunties and uncles. Havenae seen any of them for a few years though.’

‘Whereaboots in India?’

‘About here … in the Punjab.’ She pointed tae a spot in the northwest of India near the border wi Pakistan. ‘That must be an awful wee scale – India’s massive compared tae Scotland.’

‘Mrs MacBride tellt us that most maps don’t show the countries the size they really are – they make Europe bigger and Africa and India smaller.’

‘Now there’s a surprise.’

Nisha’s calculator was lyin on the table. Ah looked back at the information on the countries, and done a few sums. For a minute ah thought ah must of got it wrang so ah repeated it, but got the same answer. Tibet was nearly sixteen times as big as Scotland but there was less than half as many people lived there. Ah thought aboot they big mountain ranges covered in snow and the lamas’ chants echoin through them.

WHEN AH OPENED
the door Liz was staundin at the mirror, sortin her hair, spikin it up wi gel. She’d on a short red skirt and a denim jaicket. And ah couldnae speak for a minute – she looked pure gorgeous.

She turned round. ‘Oh, hi.’

‘Hiya.’ Ah couldnae look her in the eye – she must of known how ah was feelin. Ah wisht ah could just switch it aff, this feelin – no forever, just for the time bein, tae ah get things sorted in ma heid. But it doesnae work like that. At first when ah decided tae be celibate it didnae bother me – ah felt ah was controllin it, keepin ma mind on other things, but as time’s went on it keeps comin back. And the past few weeks Liz has been gaun oot mair, all dressed up, and it just seems dead strange, gettin harder and harder. Literally.

Liz opened the door of the livin room. ‘See you later, Anne Marie.’

‘Right, Ma.’

‘Ah’ll no be too late, Jimmy.’

‘Nae bother.’

Anne Marie was laid oot on the couch, remote in wan haund.

‘Hi, hen. Heard yous were up at the Centre this week.’

‘Aye, Da. The RE teacher took us.’

She got aff the couch and started tae rummle through a pile of tapes.

‘Seen yer mural, Da.’

‘Oh, aye.’

‘Thought it was brilliant.’

‘It’s no finished yet.’

‘Ah know – but it’s cool, it really is.’ She pulled oot a tape fae its case. ‘Didnae know you were an artist, Da.’

‘Just copyin. But it brightens the place up. In Tibet they’d have dead bright-coloured patterns and all that on the walls.’

Anne Marie sat back doon beside me. ‘Couldnae get any good films this week, Da. Thought we could watch this instead – it’s aboot Madonna.’

‘Jeezo, you’ve got Madonna on the brain. Oh well, stick it in. Only thing, you’ll need tae let me put on a punk rock wan efterwards.’

She made a face. ‘Awright, Da. Don’t tell me yous had videos in they days?’

Ah’d never watched the programme afore but it was actually dead interestin, aboot how she’d got started and aw the different stages she’d went through. The music wasnae really ma cuppa tea – but Anne Marie was glued
tae it, hingin on her every word, every move. Ah thought it was dead weird the way she’d latched ontae her – you’d think she’d of been intae wanny they boy bands at her age. And even though she looks amazin, Madonna’s even aulder than me.

‘When ah was your age ah only liked dead new stuff. Anythin that was a few year auld was like oot the ark. Anythin a few weeks auld, even.’

‘Aye, but Madonna’s different. She keeps changin hersel, her image, her music – everythin she does is new. And she’s dead young for her age. She’s havin another baby as well.’

‘Is she?’

‘Da, it’s been in all the papers and the news and everythin – you’d think you’d been livin in Tibet.’

‘Suppose ah might as well be – there’s nae TV or anythin in the Centre and ah cannae be bothered wi the papers these days.’

‘You need tae get oot mair, Da.’

‘Listen tae you. That reminds me – ah was gonnae ask you if you’re daein anythin the morra. Ah’m gaun through tae Edinburgh and ah wondered if you wanted tae come. Mind we used tae go and see the castle?’

‘Ah’m seein Nisha.’

‘She could come as well. Ah’ve tae go round tae Barbara’s but ah’ll only be ten minutes there and we’d have the rest of the day tae go somewhere.’

‘Barbara?’

‘Aye, mind ah painted her hoose last year?’

‘Ah mind.’

‘She phoned me and asked me tae go round and dae the back room – ah’m gonnae check oot whit she wants and get a key affy her.’

‘Why’s she givin you a key?’

‘So ah can get intae the hoose. She’s gaun away on holiday and she wanted me tae paint the room when she’s away.’

‘Oh.’ Anne Marie took the tape oot the machine and replaced it in its case.

Then she looked at me. ‘Da, is there sumpn gaun on wi you and this Barbara?’

‘Sumpn gaun on – Anne Marie, are you kiddin?’

‘Naw, Da, ah’m just askin you.’

‘Of course there isnae anythin gaun on – ah’m just daein a job for her.’

Ah felt as if somebdy’d punched me. There was ma wee lassie sittin there, casually askin me if ah was havin an affair. Surely tae God Liz hadnae said anythin. She’d never dae that – and she knew it wasnae true. But mibbe Anne Marie had heard somebody else talkin aboot it – Tricia? That Nikki?

Ah got aff the couch, sat doon on the flair next tae Anne Marie and pit ma airm round her. ‘Anne Marie, ah swear tae God there is nothin gaun on between me and Barbara or anybody else. When yer mammy and me split up there was naebody else – we tellt you that.’

‘Ah know, Da.’

‘Anyway, ah’d hardly be takin you and Nisha through tae Edinburgh for the day if ah was havin an affair.’

‘But Charlene said …’

‘Charlene? You’ve no been talkin tae her aboot this?’

‘Naw, Da. But last year when her da wanted her tae meet his new girlfriend, he tellt Charlene and her wee brother that she was just a friend and she came tae the park wi them and bought ice creams and then went away hame dead casual; then they found oot he’d been livin wi her for months.’

Ah didnae know whit tae say. Felt as if there was a big
lump in ma throat. Wanted tae greet. No just for me and Anne Marie either. It was Charlene and her brother and their da and this wumman, sittin in the park, eatin ice cream. It just seemed pathetic somehow.

It was wanny they days you get in Edinburgh but hardly ever in Glesga; bright blue sky wi white puffy clouds and a sharp breeze blawin. Ah love days like that – it makes you feel alive. Ah felt that happy drivin through, the two lassies sittin up beside me in the van; didnae even mind the racket fae the tapes they played on the way through, some kindy dance stuff that was the same beat over and over and over again. When it finished, ah said, ‘Ah take back everythin ah’ve ever said aboot Madonna. Do yous really like that stuff?’

‘Research, Mr McKenna.’

‘Research?’

‘For the CD, Da. Nisha gets this stuff affy Gurpreet – we’re listenin tae everythin the noo, just in case we get mair ideas.’

‘Yous might as well listen tae the washin machine as that.’

Nisha laughed. ‘Great idea, Mr McKenna – we could sample the spin cycle.’

‘How’s the CD comin alang then? Yous nearly finished?’

‘We’ve got the basic stuff laid down, but we’ve still a good way to go.’

‘Aye, Nisha keeps changin her mind.’

‘Who keeps changin their mind?’

They started gigglin, as if it was some private joke.

‘Cannae wait tae hear it. Right, this is Barbara’s street here – it’ll be a miracle if we get a parkin place but – ah’ll mibbe just double park and jump up for a minute – yous comin?’

‘Naw, Da, we’ll wait in the van.’

Ah could feel ma face burnin as ah rung the doorbell. Even though ah knew there was nothin between me and Barbara, efter whit Anne Marie had said, ah felt as if she was lookin at me different.

‘Hello, Jimmy.’ Barbara put her airms round me and kissed ma cheek. Thank God the lassies never came up efter all.

‘Hiya. Ah’ll need tae make this quick, Barbara – ah’ve got Anne Marie and her pal waitin in the van.’

‘You should have brought them up – I’d love to meet them.’

‘Double parked.’

‘Another time. Right, this is the spare key – the brass one’s for the storm door and the inner lock is this one plus the Yale. I’m off tomorrow for two weeks. Do you want to see the room again?’

‘Might as well. So’s ah know the size.’

It was a square-shaped room at the back of the flat, a lot smaller than the other rooms and it was empty.

‘I’ve moved everything out so you can get on. Can you take down the curtains?’

‘Aye, nae bother. What colour were you wantin?’

‘Just white – maybe an off white but not too creamy. Something clean and light. No distractions while I’m working.’

‘OK. That’s easy. Look, ah better get aff.’

‘I’ll come down with you – say hello to the girls.’

‘Hello, you must be Anne Marie – I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘Hiya.’

‘And you’re …’

‘This is Nisha.’

‘Hi, Nisha. Where are you off to today?’

Ah looked at the girls. ‘Dunno, really. We could mibbe go tae the castle. Or just wander aboot.’

‘What about going up Arthur’s Seat? It’s a perfect day for it.’

‘Never been up there.’

‘You shouldn’t miss it. Wonderful view.’

‘Right, thanks. OK. Have a nice trip.’

‘I will. Nice to meet you, girls.’

Lyin on ma back wi the sun on ma face, eyes shut, listenin tae the girls laughin and bletherin away, ah felt happy. Just happy. Ah’d no felt this happy for a lang time. Just lyin in the sun. Then all of a sudden there was a feelin in the pit of ma stomach like when you’re at the shows and you feel the big wheel fallin under you in a rush, like ma insides had been sooked oot of me. Ah opened ma eyes and it was all still there, the sun, the view ower Edinburgh and the hills, Anne Marie and Nisha a coupla foot away, sittin on the grass.

The feelin softened tae a flitter and ah breathed steady and deliberate, tryin tae get through it. Ah looked up at the big sky, clouds close enough tae touch. When Anne Marie was aboot six ah’d painted the ceilin of her room blue wi a pattern of white clouds across it.

‘Haw, Da, you asleep?’

‘Naw, just daydreamin. Hey, race yous doon the hill?’

‘Nae chance, Da, Nisha’s a brilliant runner – 400 metres champion.’

‘Is that right, Nisha?’

‘Aye.’

‘You’re some kid – singin and runnin.’

‘And cartwheels – check this,’ said Anne Marie. She turned wan hersel – pretty good, just a wee falter when she landed – then stood aside tae let Nisha go. Nisha flew round dead fast, in a perfect wheel, then another and another, silhouetted against the blue and white sky. Ah clapped.

‘Ah’m shattered just watchin yous. Time for ice cream.’

That night, lyin in ma sleepin bag, watchin the light fae the cars spill oot under the curtains and move alang the skirtin board, that was whit kept comin back tae me. Two lassies, turnin cartwheels. And a blue and white sky.