Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (23 page)

  “Ye mean, aw they winos, pimps, pervos and that bunnet brigade ur aw tucking intae poor auld Buttercup pies?”

  “Aye, and aw the rest ae it. There wid’ve been a fair auld bit ae beef came aff ae her arse, Ah’ll tell ye. Ye kin bet everywan and their grannies hiv been tucking intae the best ae brisket aboot here o’er the past few weeks.”

  “That’s pure bang oot ae order, so it is,” Crisscross said, shaking his heid, as they sauntered doon towards McAslin Street, remembering tae scan the pavement and avoid aw the dugshit.

Chapter Twenty Seven

  The gates swung open, bang oan seven in the morning. Johnboy didnae know why, bit it looked strange seeing a wee midget wae a big limp heave the big wooden gates open oan his lonesome. Johnboy made the mistake ae offering tae gie him a haun, bit Tiny telt him tae fuck aff as he’d been daeing it fur eleven years, four months and thirteen days, withoot anywan gieing him a haun.

  “Aye, he’s a touchy wee shitehoose, that wan,” mumbled Tony, oot ae earshot.

  When the second gate swung open, aw the carts appeared intae view.  They wur aw lined up in a row wae their shafts pointing forward, like guards, bowing in their honour as the pair ae them stood in the middle ae the entrance.  When they trooped in, Horsey John wis scattering straw aboot the cobbled yard.

  “Hellorerr John,” Tony said pleasantly.

  “Whit the fuck dae youse two want?”

  “Ah wis thinking ae a horse and cart…if ye’ve goat any, that is.”

  “Ah’m busy, so fuck aff and come back later.”

  “Listen, we’re here oan business. We’ve paid up front, so whit stall dae Ah go in tae get masel a horse then?”

  “Tiny! Gie this pair Jessie,” the grumpy auld basturt shouted. 

  A couple ae minutes later, Tiny appeared wae the maist beautiful horse Johnboy hid ever clapped eyes oan in his entire life. He couldnae believe that they wur being allowed tae take her oot fur the day oan their ain.  Tony hid telt him that ye needed tae be fourteen tae take oot a horse and cart, bit Tony’d never been asked his age before.

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake, John…no that auld hag? It’s a load ae briquettes she’s gonnae hiv tae pull aboot the day,” Tony whined.

  “There’s fuck aw wrang wae her, ya cheeky wee tink, ye. Look at her…she wid’ve beat Brasher in the Grand National o’er in Bogside, wae three length tae spare, she’s that fit.”

  Johnboy hid tae admit, he never thought he’d ever agree wae grumpy Horsey John, bit she looked like a right thoroughbred tae him.  Jessie jist stood there looking at Tony and Horsey John arguing o’er her as if she didnae hiv a care in the world. She’d a straw-hat oan her heid, wae a couple ae plastic flowers sticking oot ae it. Her ears stuck oot through two holes on each side ae the boater and she wis chewing away wae a ‘It’s yer money ye’re wasting, pals’ look oan her kisser.

  “Take her or leave her, bit ye’re no getting yer money back,” Horsey John shouted.

Wae that, he stomped aff intae the stable block.

  “Ah think she’s gorgeous, so Ah dae,” Johnboy said, stepping closer tae her.

  It wis then that she let oot a sneeze that hit him wae baith barrels. Luckily, only wan dollop landed oan that foreheid ae his while the rest splattered oan tae his chest. Christ knows whit she’d been eating bit he learned whit it wis like tae be shot wae a Blunderbuss. His face wis stinging like buggery.  Unconcerned at his pain, she then let oot a big shaking heid whinney that ricocheted aff the stable walls and started up every other nag in the place.

  “Sharrruuuppp!” Horsey howled tae them fae somewhere in the stable block.

Jessie seemed tae settle doon a bit wance she started tae hiv a pish which came oot in a big arc behind that arse ae hers. It lasted fur aboot five minutes and wis finally finished aff wae wan ae the loudest farts Johnboy hid ever heard in his life. It even made his granny’s wans sound ladylike.

  “Probably her first wan ae the day,” Tony said, excusing her bad manners.

  “Thank God fur that,” Johnboy said, waving his haun in front ae his nose.

  “Aye, she’s aint no lady, oor Jessie. Imagine sitting oan the cart behind her, doon wind, eh? Right, hiv ye done this before?”  Tony asked, carrying o’er the harness.

  “Naw, bit Ah think Ah remember seeing it done oan Gunsmoke.”

  “Right, Ah’ll explain it as Ah’m daeing it. That way ye’ll get tae learn oan the job.”

  “Nae bother,” Johnboy said, as Jessie decided tae hose the yard doon in front ae them again, withoot any shame tae her name.

  “Right, this is the collar. Ye push it o’er her heid, remembering tae put it oan wae the tap bit at the bottom. Wance it’s oan, ye turn it roond so the tap bit ends up at the tap…see?”

  “Aw, right.”

  “Right, Jessie, ma wee sweet flea-bag,” Tony purred, stroking her under her neck soothingly, while backing her in between the shafts ae the cart.  “Right, Johnboy, you haud the shafts in that position and Ah’ll get the chain looped and connected at the back and the front.”

  Johnboy couldnae see everything that Tony wis daeing, bit it wis obvious that he’d done it before.

  “Ye need tae get this right as she’ll need tae be able tae sit back in the breeches. This will stoap the cart moving back and forward. Wance she’s shut in, ye take these chains and leathers and fasten them oan tae wan side ae her collar and then dae it oan the other side.”

  “Ah’ll never remember aw this.”

  “Ye will…it jist takes practice,” Tony said, coming o’er tae Johnboy and staunin looking at his handiwork.

  “Right, Ah’ll go and get her feed.”

  Johnboy hid never really noticed it before Jessie wis hooked up tae the cart, bit she wis like a patchwork quilt. Where the collar and leathers touched her, her skin wis smooth and shiny while the rest ae her wis like tight steel wool.

  Tony came back carrying a sack ae feed and slung it oan the cart. In his other haun, he’d two empty feed sacks which he slung oan tae the front right haun side and made up a cushion, before planting his arse doon and looking o’er at Johnboy.

  “Well, ur ye coming?”

  “Aye,” Johnboy said, aw excited, jumping oan, while Tony flicked the reins oan tae Jessie’s arse gently and she heided oot the gates and turned right doon towards McAslin Street.

  “Where’s Mr Magoo then?” Tony asked Joe oan arrival at the canal at the tap ae North Wallace Street.

  “Who knows…Ah’ve been here since hauf seven and there’s been nae sign ae him.”

  “Ye don’t think ending up in the water his put him aff, dae ye?” Johnboy asked.

  “Ah widnae hiv thought so,” Tony replied. “Although, it’s a well-known fact that water and Skull ur no the best ae pals.”

  “Whit dae we dae noo?” Johnboy asked.

  “Whit dae ye mean?” asked Joe.

  “Will we go and hiv a wee look fur him?”

  “Fuck that...he’ll turn up. Whit we’ve tae dae is get the cart loaded up, pronto,” Tony said, walking o’er tae the Nolly.

  “Aye, Ah widnae worry aboot baldy, Johnboy.”

  “Right, let’s get the bridge set up and hope oor briquettes ur still sitting where we left them,” Tony said, as the three ae them looked across the canal tae the other side, no seeing anything fur the long grass swaying in the breeze.

  It didnae take them long, despite Skull’s absence. When they goat across, aw the briquettes wur lined up where they’d left them. The eight fish boxes wur still sitting wae a dozen briquettes in each ae them tae weigh them doon tae stoap them blowing away.

  “Right, here’s whit we’ll dae. We’ll start wae wan box each tae see how the planks take oor weight. We’ll no fuck aboot.  Wance we’re across the bridge, heid straight tae Jessie wae them and up oan tae the back ae the cart,” Tony instructed them.

  “Aw, nice wan…they gied ye Jessie. Skull will be chuffed, if the lazy basturt ever shows up,” Joe said, looking o’er tae Jessie who’d her heid stretched doon intae her feed bag.

  The three ae them stood, no saying anything fur a minute or two. They wur staunin silently, measuring the distance fae their side ae the canal, across the bendy planks and o’er tae where Jessie wis staunin. They could jist see a bit ae the back end ae the cart sticking oot at the corner ae the wire works wall.

  “Well, it’s nae use staunin here looking…let’s go!” Tony said, lifting up wan ae the boxes and heiding aff towards the bridge.

  Joe and Johnboy stood where they wur and watched him go. He didnae break his stride and practically ran across the planks, big watery splashes covering his feet as he bobbed up and doon like a trapeze artist, straight up oan tae the other side and o’er tae the cart. They heard the thud ae a dozen briquettes crashing doon oan tae the wooden boards before he re-appeared, walking towards them wae a big grin oan his coupon.

  “How far did the planks go under the water wae ma weight oan it?”  he asked.

  “A couple ae inches,” Joe shouted.

  “Well, whit the fuck ur youse two waiting fur then?”

  They picked up a box each and Johnboy let Joe go first. Joe went across in aboot six or seven bouncy steps tae each plank, followed by Johnboy. Efter aboot twenty minutes and a few wee near misses, they goat intae a rhythm. They soon worked oot that if they semi-ran at the plank, the weight ae their body wae the box full ae briquettes sank the plank doon far enough tae make it spring back up pretty fast. The trick wis tae get their second step oan tae the plank jist when it sprung back up tae its highest level. This meant they ran and bounced their way across, bit they always hid at least wan fit oan the plank at any wan time. Tae start wae, it wis a bit hit-or-miss and then it wis like riding a bike. During aw this experimenting, they wur arguing whit wis the best way tae get across withoot losing a dozen briquettes tae the canal below them.  Efter taking a breather, so Tony and Joe could hiv a fag, they agreed that wance they goat their breath back, they’d gie it a go wae two boxes at a time. Tony wis trying tae convince either Joe or Johnboy that it wis up tae wan ae them tae take the lead wae the double dunt, seeing as he’d gone first earlier.

  “Ah’ll tell ye whit, Johnboy. You go first, and Ah’ll tell ye whit it feels like tae get yer Nat King Cole,” Joe offered him.

  “Don’t believe him, Johnboy. He’s never hid his hole in his life.”

  “Tony, shut yer arse. This is between me and the virgin here.”

  “There’s no way Ah’m gaun first. Ye’re aulder than me. Ah’m only ten, ye’re eleven, so ye should go first.”

  “Okay, whit if Ah gie ye two bob oot ae ma cut when we flog the briquettes?”

  “Aw the money is gaun intae the kitty fur the cabin.”

  “Tony,
ya
Atalian knob-end, stoap bloody butting in.”

  “Ah’m jist saying.”

  “Well, don’t.  He nearly went fur that.”

  “Naw, Ah didnae. You go first.”

  “Awright, Ah’ll play ye fur it.”

  “Whit’s the game?”

  “We’ll hiv a pishing competition.”

  “Whit’s the rules?”

  “We’ll staun oan the edge ae the Nolly here, and the first tae hit the water, beyond aw the shite floating aboot, wins.”

  The three ae them goat up and stood oan the edge ae the canal wall and looked at the distance. Johnboy reckoned it wis aboot ten feet tae the open water, while Tony thought it wis mair like seven or eight.

  “Tony, you kin be the judge, in case virgin boy here tries tae pull a flanker.”

  “Will Ah fuck.  Ah’m in.”

  “Did ye hear that, Johnboy?  That means we need tae join up. Scotland versus the greasy Atalian bams who’ve never played an honest game in their lives. That means, whitever wan ae us wins, we’ll make him go o’er first. Is it a deal?”

  “Is it fuck, Joe. Ah don’t trust ye. Maybe me and Tony should dae a deal, eh?”

  “Or maybe we jist aw play oan oor ain and the best pisher wins,” Tony chipped in, measuring the distance ae the water between himsel and the canal wae they dark eyes ae his.

  “Right, ya pair ae baw-bags, seeing as it wis ma idea, Ah’ll go first then.”

  Joe pulled his fly doon, grabbed his tadger, stood fur aboot twenty seconds concentrating and then let fly wae a jet ae pish. It wis a stoater. It must’ve travelled aboot five feet.

  “That’s jist fur starters,” he bragged, grinning, stauning back and tucking in his fire extinguisher wae a satisfied, smug look oan that coupon ae his.

  “Call that a slash?” Tony said, stepping forward, unbuttoning his five-o-wans, waiting aboot ten seconds then letting fly wae another gush that beat Joe’s by aboot six inches.

  “Right, oot ae ma way. Ah might be the only virgin here...”

  “Or no,” Tony quipped.

  “...bit Ah dae know how tae fly-pish jist as good as auld Jessie o’er there.”

  And wae that, Johnboy stepped forward, took his willy oot, applied a bit ae pressure behind his knob-end wae his thumb and finger, squeezed, while concentrating at the same time. He reckoned his tadger swelled up tae aboot twenty times its normal size and looked like wan ae they frogs that he’d seen oan a nature programme oan the telly…its neck swelling up like a balloon while it wis croaking tae wan ae its mates in the jungle. When he eased aff oan the pressure gauge, his pish sizzled through the air, whizzing past Tony’s by aboot eight inches.

  “Take that,
ya pair ae pishpots, ye,” he hooted, swaggering back fae the edge like a gunslinger.

  “Mine’s wis jist a starter, so it wis. Watch this wan,” Joe said, stepping forward.

  Sure enough, it flew by Johnboy’s by aboot four inches.  Tony’s next wan wis even better.  His wis a good ten inches oot in front, making a drumming sound as his pish rattled aff the side ae an auld rusty pram.