A man with multiple personalities.

‘You know, it’s off centre?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Funny I never noticed that before.’

‘Noticed what?’

‘It’s squinty; off centre like, you know?’

‘What's squinty?’

‘Sixteen points.’

‘What’s got sixteen points?’

‘Thirty-five circles.’

‘Have you lost the plot entirely?’

What’s got circles, points, and off centre?’

‘Makes you wonder though eh? How they built them so perfect like.’

‘Why can't I think?’

‘Built what so perfect?’

‘That thing around the light; on the roof there.’

‘The ceiling rose?’

‘Aye, that fancy plastery thing with the points and circles. I

‘mean they must have been really clever in those days eh?’

‘Calm down.’

Breathe normal, like they say in the movies; don't panic.’

‘Clever?’

‘Aye, clever. I mean how many tenements are there in Glasgow then, eh?’

‘I don’t know, thousands; hundreds of thousands I expect, why?’

‘Well, if every house has two rooms, and if each room’s got ... no, wait a minute though, I mind my mum used to clean houses over in Shawlands, you know Southside? Aye, well she used to tell us that some o’ they tenements had five rooms!’

‘So?’

‘Well, if she was right, and my mum never told lies, so if she was...’

‘How do you know?’

‘Know what?’

‘That she never told a lie.’

‘My mum? Telling lies? My mum?

Are you saying my mum told lies?’

‘My God! If I could just get peace to think. I need to sort this out.’

‘No, no I'm not saying that. I’m not saying she did. I'm just...’

‘Aye, you’re calling my mum a liar!’

‘No, no, I'm just sayi...’

‘You bastard, you’re not calling my mum a fucking liar and getting away with it.’

‘I never said that.’

‘Well what did you fucking well say then, eh?’

‘I just asked how you knew that she wasn’t, that’s all.’

‘Well that’s as good as calling her a liar.’

‘Look, I'm sorry if that’s what you think I meant, but I didn’t mean to, so I'm sorry if that’s what you thought. But what I really said...’

‘I don't care what you thought I thought you said. Because I

know that you know what I thought you really said. Right!’

‘Eh, sure, sure, I mean, right, of course.’

‘Aye well, just you be careful what you say next time all right?’

‘Oh, I will, I will, believe me, I will.’

‘You know, you’re lucky it’s me, and I know you, that you meant no offence like.’

‘See, some folk are pretty touchy about that kind o’ thing, and you have to be careful what you say. Comprende mi amigo?’

‘I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll be careful.’

‘All right, well I accept you apologising then.’

‘Thank God for that, peace broken out. Another minute, another fight.’

‘So, what were you saying your mum said?’

‘My Mum. Whit about my Mum saying? I've warned you already shit for brains, right!’

‘Whoa whoa, don’t start again. I'm only asking what you were saying your mum told you about the South Side tenements, remember?’

‘Well, all right well. But you’ll need to be careful you know, like I told you?’

‘Sure, sure, yo comprende my amigo. ... Tenements?’

‘Oh aye, right.’

‘Well, she said that some of them tenements over there had five and six rooms. And that some had bathrooms as well. You know, not just a cludgy on the stairhead, but an inside one, with a bath, and hot water out the taps like. Do you think maybe she was kidding us then? Not lying mind, jist kiddin’ us on.’

‘No, I don’t. I’ve heard the same thing myself.’

‘What will I do? I need time to think! I need to shut these two up so I can think. God they can argue about anything.’

‘Aye well, if she was right, and she never told lies mind, but if she was right and not kidding on, then that must mean there’s thousands and thousands of them.’

‘Thousands and thousands of what?’

‘Them plastery roses; on the ceilings. You know I don’t think you listen sometimes to a word I’m saying.’

‘Ceiling roses. They're called ceiling roses. And you’re right; there must be a million of them, but so what?’

‘So what? Don’t you see? Think of the time it must have taken to make them. I mean, I mind at school oor teacher showing us pictures of this great big building in Italy somewhere, and the roof was covered in paintings.’

‘Sistine Chapel.’

‘Eh?’

‘The building you're talking about. It’s called the Sistine Chapel; it’s in the Vatican in Rome.’

‘You sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘How do you know all that sort o’ stuff?’

‘I remember it from school. The artist was a famous Italian painter called Michelangelo.’

‘Why don’t I remember stuff like that? I mean how come you remember it and I don’t? But I don’t ... ‘

‘Because you're a dumb fuck, that’s why! …’

‘Remember that this Mr. Angelo fella lay on his back and painted a roof. So, I was thinkin’ it must have been the same for all those plasterers that made all these roses.’

‘It isn’t a roof, it’s a ceiling, and it’s not Mr. Angelo, his name was Michelangelo, all the one word. And he was Italian so it wouldn't be mister it would be Signor. And anyway, they would be pre-cast at a factory somewhere and then transported to the site and stuck up into place complete.’

‘All right, okay smart arse. Think you know it all don't you, eh? Well I'm not talking about fuckin’ well Tally plasterers. I'm talkin about Glesga blokes. Glesga plasterers that made all them roses round all they lights. That’s what I'm talkin about; Glesga plasterers, right! No fuckin’ well “hands-up, we-give-in-Tommy”, banddy-leggit, spaghetti-eatin’, fucking Tallies. Right!’

‘Right, right. But what are you ranting about? What have you got against the Italians? I mean, these are the people that built the Roman Empire. That came here and built roads and palaces when we were running about naked and covered in blue paint.’

‘Why? You're asking me why? I’ll tell you fucking well why, ya Tally loving bastard you. I'll tell you why right enough, don’t you worry.’

‘Well why then?’

‘Cause they tried to murder my granny, that’s why. Okay?’

‘Your granny?’

‘Aye, my granny; you know, my Dad’s Mum?’

‘I know what a granny is. But how did the Italians nearly kill her? Was she in the war?’

‘I wish they had killed her, because then you two eejits wouldn’t be sitting here arguing and driving me fucking crazy.’

‘The war? My granny? ‘Course she wasn’t in the fucking war.

She was a woman, not a man; that would have been my granddad, and they never tried to kill him, it was her they tried to kill. They tried to kill my granny, not my granddad, that was my granny.’

‘What was your granny?’

‘That tried to kill my granddad.’

‘Your granny tried to kill your granddad?’

‘I jist told you that!’

‘So the Italians tried to kill your granny and your granny tried to kill your granddad?’

‘No.’

‘No? But you just said that she did!’

‘No stupid. See my granny tried to kill my granddad before the Tallies tried to kill her. Right?'

‘Why?

‘Don’t know. They said it was an accident, but I knew better see.’

‘Accident?’

‘Aye, they said it was her own fault for bein’ so greedy like.’

‘Greedy?’

‘Aye greedy. Said she should’ve picked out the bones first.’

‘Bones?’

Aye bones, bones. Bones from the fish.’

‘Fish?’

‘Will you stop repeating every-fucking-well-thing I say! Christ you get on my tits at times you do.’

‘Repeating?

Fuck sake you’re doing it again. Chuck it, right!

Sorry, sorry. But what fish?’

‘Okay, but watch it right.’

‘Right, I will.’

‘The bottle of Irn Bru and fish supper she bought at the Tallies and ate going to the steamie every Thursday…’

‘So, she nearly choked on a fish bone, is that what you're

saying?’

‘Aye, that’s what I'm telling you. And then they blamed her, because of the bleach, see?’

‘Bleach?’

‘Come on, come on, keep up. This is the easy bit; wait ‘till he tells you about his brother’s wife’s family. Couple of chromosomes short in the gene pool there for sure!’

‘See, you don’t believe it either do you?’

‘I'm not sure. Did she drink the bleach; was it in the Irn Bru? Was the bleach in the Irn Bru, is that what happened?’

‘No, it wasn’t in the fucking Irn Bru. No, you see it was Thursday.’’

‘I'm sorry, but I'm missing something here. What does Thursdays, Irn Bru, and bleach have to do with the Italians trying to kill your granny?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? See every Thursday she cleans her teeth while she's at the steamie washing the clothes, you know?’

‘Aye, I know what happens at a steamie, women go there to do their laundry, right?’

‘Right, well they crafty Tallie bastards knew that. See, she always bought a fish supper from their shop on her way to the steamie on a Thursday!’

‘Yes, but the bleach?’

‘Cause o’ the pipe.’

‘The pipe?’

‘The pipe.’

‘What about the pipe?’

‘Have you any idea, any fucking idea at all what’ll happen if you don't decide before he phones back?’

‘That's why she had to use the bleach on her teeth; because o’ the pipe.’

‘Did your granny smoke a clay pipe?’

‘Aye, of course she did, d’you think she’d want to bleach her teeth if she didn’t?’

‘I don't know. I sometimes don't quite grasp your meaning.’

‘I sometimes don't quite grasp ... why d’you have to talk like a toff all the time. Christ you were brought up same place as me, and you don’t talk like I do, do you well?’

‘Not really, and thanks for the compliment.’

‘Anyway, that's how they tried to kill her, see?’

‘So, do you mean that the Italians knew she wouldn’t have her teeth in and deliberately put bones in her fish and she nearly choked?’

‘Exactly!’

But you always get bones in fish. You never get them all out.’

‘Aye that’s just what they said, and they nearly got away with it, until I remembered.’

‘Until you remembered what?’

‘It was a special!’

‘Aye, special. You know, like the school you went to. Special.’

‘A special? Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to repeat, it’s just that I don’t understand.’

‘That’s just it! They all missed it as well. All except me! See I ‘knew that my granny only ever ate a special fish supper, see!’

‘Y-e-s.’

‘See, you don’t get it either d’you? Brain the size o’ a planet and can’t tie you’re fucking shoelaces. And they say I'm the ‘daft yin, eh?’

‘You're not daft, just… different; I’ve told you.’

‘Special fish suppers don’t have bones!’

‘No?’

‘No? Where the fuck have you been all your life?’

Everybody knows that.

Never!

That's what makes them special, see?

Well, that and the breadcrumbs, and they knew that if she saw breadcrumbs and not ordinary batter then she wouldn’t be expecting any bones. Dirty knife-in-the-back, cunning Tally bastards!’

‘Genius!’

‘Ta.’

‘So, did your granny think your granddad was involved?’

‘Course she didn’t. Christ you come oot with the weirdest things.’

‘Well why did your Granny try to kill your Granddad then?’

‘Didn’t like him.’

-

‘Why’s the light swaying?’

‘Is it?’

‘Come on, come on; think!’

‘A figure of eight. If I stuck a pencil on the light and held a bit ‘o’ paper below, it would draw a figure of eight’.

‘You know, I think you might be right.’

‘God almighty! Never mind the light, think! What are you going to do, eh?’

‘Whit's making it move, eh? Wonder if it's my breathing. Do you think it might be? Right, I’ll stop and see what happens.’

‘Right, while you’re holding your breath, think about it. You need to decide. One way or the other. Decide before you let your breath out.’

‘I don't think it's slowing down any. Twenty seconds. It better stop soon.’

‘You know, I think you might have been right, it is slowing down; I'm sure of it!’

‘Come on, you've got time yet; make your mind up, pleeeese. If you don't, and you need to breath, you'll never decide, will you?’

‘I think it's slowing down! It is! It was my breathing. Ya beauty. Sorted. Another mystery solved by the great Hector Parrot, scourge o’ the criminal classes and sleuth of Maryhill.’

‘Right, well done, you've cracked it. Now make up your mind before he phones.’

‘Wait a minute. If it was your breath, and you've just let it all

out in one big gust, then it should be going in a bigger figure of eight than before. Is it?’

‘Who gives a toss! Don't listen to that nutter. Concentrate. What the hell are you going to say when he calls? “Oh, by the way, do you know that my light swings in a figure of eight because I breathe on it?” He’ll be well impressed.’

‘Do you think so? I'm not sure. Right, if it swings past that dead fly then it's moving the same as before.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Dead flies. Dead flies! Are you mad? He’ll be phoning any minute now and you're thinkin about dead flies. Well, that's it; you're on your own. I give in. You deal with him, right!’

‘Seven; eight; nine. Just the same. Wasn’t my breath then.’

‘I've told you already, I don't care.’

‘Maybe the building’s moving. You know, some kind of earthquake; like they have in Japan’.

‘Are you crazy? This is Maryhill, not Japan. We don't get earthquakes, or tidal waves either for that matter. I mean if we did, they wouldn’t have built tenements, would they?’

‘Fair point right enough.’

‘So if it wasn’t my breath, what's doing’ it then.’

‘Don't ask me.’

‘I wonder if it's a draft. That's it! It's a draft ... but where.’

‘I could tell you what’s doing' it.’

‘Shut up and let me think will you?’

‘I never said anything.’

‘Not you. I wasn’t talking to you.’

‘Please yourself.’

‘Okay then. Windows shut, check! Doors dubbed up, check! Snake stuffed along the bottom, check! So, no draught there either. The chimney, it must be coming down the chimney!’

‘Nope!’

‘Quiet you; I'll look for myself, right!’

‘But I didn't say a word! Are you talking to yourself again?’

‘Of course I'm not. D’you think I'm daft then?’

‘Yup.’

‘Shut it you, I've told you already.’

‘Okay smart-arse, over to you. That was my last word.’

‘You are! You're talking to yourself again. God, when did this ‘start? Does your mum know?’

‘Good! Only it can’t be the chimney because I don't have one. ‘So, if it's not any of the obvious places, then it must be somewhere not obvious.’

‘Genius.’

‘Shut it you.’

‘Okay, but don't blame me when your mum finds out. It’s your own fault you know. You shouldn’t have stopped the treatment.’

‘I've told you already, I wasn’t talkin to you, right! This is hard enough without you butting in all the time. Wonder if it's still moving past the fly.’

‘Tum-te-tum-te-tum-te-tum, -tum-te-tum-te-tum-tum.’

‘Will you stop that fucking stupid, bastardin’ tuneless, buggering noise?’

‘Oh, getting a wee bit ratty is it?’

‘No; and even if I was it's got nothing to do with you. Right!’

‘I give in. It’s impossible to help you when you're like this.’

‘It's not a tuneless whistle.’

‘What?’

‘I said it's not a ‘fucking stupid bastardin’ tuneless buggering noise.’

‘Course it is.’

‘No, it's not.’

‘Aye it is.’

‘It's not.’

‘It is.’

‘S’not.’

‘Is.’

‘S’no.’

‘Is.’

‘Isn't.’

‘Right then smart arse, if it’s not a tuneless load of shite, whit's it called well?’

‘The Archers.’

‘The Archers?’

‘Aye, the Archers.’

‘No, it’s not, because that’s got the same tune as the Lone Ranger.’

‘That’s not the Archers, that’s William Tell who was an Archer! God sometimes I wonder about you.’

‘All right then, who’s these other archers well.’

‘It's a show on the radio. About farmers somewhere in England.’

‘Well, I never heard of the Archers, so that's not fair well.’

‘I have. They're famous. Everybody’s heard of them.’

‘Who said anything about fair? Anyway, it's not a contest. I wasn’t giving you clues or anything, I was just humming, it was you that asked.’

‘Anyway, you said you’d be quiet.’

‘Didn't.’

‘You did, I heard you.’

‘Didn't.’

‘You fucking well did!’

‘Nope. What I said was “that was my last word on it”. I didn’t say anything about humming.’

‘You’re twisted, you know that? Did you not hear him?’

‘Hear who? Don't you understand, you're talking to no-one? There's no one here except me and you.’

‘I'm twisted! You're sitting here arguing with yourself, ‘and I'm twisted.’

‘If you'd jist shut it, I wouldn’t need to talk to you, so don't blame me, right.’

‘I never said a word.’

‘You've never stopped.’

‘Listen carefully to what I'm saying. I – have – not – said – a - word.’

‘Right well, who was it was telling me to think; make up my mind and stuff eh? Who was that then if it wasn’t you?’

‘You're just not listening, are you?’

‘I am, although I don't know why, fur you make no sense.’

‘I make no sense!’

‘Aye, you heard, or are you deaf as well as daft like?’

‘Listen you, you lunatic yo...’

‘Oh aye, who’s losing the rag now well, eh?’

‘No wonder. I'm sitting here talking to a guy who's talking to himself, and I'm daft?’

‘Okay well, if I’m that daft, why are you talking to me then?’

‘I'm not talking to you; you're talking to yourself!’

‘Talking to myself?’

‘That's what I told you.’

‘Shut it you. I've enough bother with this head case, right! Just shut it the pair o’ you.

Did you hear me?

I said not another word from youse, right!

Right?

Right!

You’re allowed to say if you heard me or not.

What's up; you not talking?

That’s right go in the huff well; see if I care.

I can last as long as youse kin you know.

Rumte-tum-te-rumte-tum-te-tum-te-tum-terumtetum rumtittytum te tumtiddly tum tum. Good, eh?

See, I know tuneless shite as well as you. You’re not the only wan that can make up tunes and give them fancy names see.

The Archers; eh? The fuckin’ Archers, English shite!

Bet you’re wondering what mine’s called eh, aren't you?

Well I’m not gonna tell you, right. Not unless you apologise first, and then say please.

Is that why you’re not saying anything well? ‘Because you don't know the name o’ my tune.

Will I tell youse well? Eh? Will I, eh?

Alright well I'm gonna tell you even if you don't want to know.

Right? Right, I'll tell you. It's called “The drunken Belly”.

Good eh. D’you get it well, eh? The drunken belly. It’s a joke. Clever, eh? See, it’s what you call a play on words. A condiment they call it.

See, you sing; ‘Rum-te-tum’. Still don't get it do you?

Rum to tummy ya dope. Comes out as rum-te-tum, good that eh? You're just narked because you called yours the Archers; and that's not even funny.

Light’s still swinging you know. That's what got you narked in the first place, yeah?

Cause I wouldn’t think about what you wanted. That's the trouble with you, you know. You always want your own way. Always think you know what's best for me, don't you? And when you don't get your own way, you just clam up like a wean d in the huff.

Youse gonna let me sit here and talk to myself then, eh?

Don't think that I can’t. I get more sense this way, without you interrupting and telling me what I should do all the time.

But you see, it’s just that ... well I feel a wee bit daft jist sitting here talkin without you.

If I promise to make up my mind, will you talk to me?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Eh. Did you say something’?’

‘I said, hmm.’

‘Aye, I know, I heard you. But what does “hmm” mean?’

‘It means hmm.’

‘Fuck you! I'm tryin’ to have a serious conversation with you, and all you do is take the piss. Well fuck you!’

‘I’ll speak to you.’

‘Even if I don't make up my mind? You’ll still talk to me, eh?’

‘Yes, but only if you promise to stop talking to yourself, okay?’

‘If you were to make up your mind...’

‘Alright well, I'll make my fucking mind up and I'll stop talkin to myself. But not for youse, I was gonna anyway, see.’

‘Okay then what's it to be.’

‘Give’s a chance will you! Christ, everything with you is rush-

rush-rush. I need to get my head straight first, a’ that arguing with you has made me knackered.’

‘You promised!’

‘I'm only saying...’

‘I know what you’re saying. Same as you always do. ‘Decide; make your mind up; choose; one or the other.’

‘There's nothing to choose. There's only me and you here.’

‘You know, I think you're jealous of him. That's why you keep saying he's not here. Eh, eh?’

‘I'm only trying to help you know.’

‘Aye, I know you are. But it's not easy like, when folk like him think you’re daft.’

‘Well that’s never bothered us, has it? Make him to go away.’

‘Please don't make me go away again. I don't think you're daft, I've never said that.’

‘You heard him!’

‘Well ... yes.’

‘I know that he can hear you, but can you hear him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Since when.’

‘Since always.’

‘You never said. I thought you couldn't hear him.’

‘I thought that's what you wanted?’

‘Well it was. Used to be I mean. You know, when he came at first. It was.’

‘Not now?’

‘I don't think so. No.’

‘Don't think I want to speak to him. ‘Because I don't. You speak to him if you have to, but don't expect me to. Okay?’

‘Suits me.’

‘See, I was worried folk would think I was mad and try and get me locked up again.’

‘Conundrum.’

‘No, it’s not, it’s easy. Don't listen to him he's trying to confuse

you that's all.’

‘I'll be the judge o’ that you, right! Okay ya smarty-arsed-know-it-all, what's a conundrum?’

‘What you called a condiment earlier, it’s a conundrum.

‘That's what I said, a conunderum. Didn't I?’

‘Yes. I heard you. He's just trying to be smart and put you down again. You don't want to trust him you know.’

‘God you're a grovelling creep.’

‘Okay you two, chuck it, right! If I've got to argue with you two, folk will think I'm mad.’

‘That's because they don't know any better. They don't have anyone except other people to talk to and ask for advice. That's what makes us special.’

‘I know that, but it's still not easy when folk look at me as though I’m daft.’

‘No, they don't. They're just amazed and jealous that you've got something they don't have, that's all.’

‘D’you think so?’

‘Well think about it. It doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, you've always got me to talk to, right?’

‘And me.’

‘Aye?’

‘Well they don't! If they need to talk to somebody they've got to go and visit, or phone, or talk to a stranger.’

‘A stranger! They wid go and talk to a stranger. Somebody they didn’t even know?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh aye. That's the way these people work. They need a group of them before they can decide anything. Well at least another one.’

‘Christ that must be hellish right enough. Mind you, when weans chase after me, there are always a bunch of them.’

‘See!’

‘Aye, and when folk look in a shop or somewhere like that, there's always a crowd gathers.’

‘Exactly!’

‘And anytime the polis have come to the door, there's always at least two o’ them!’

‘See what I mean; they need other people. You don't ‘because you've always got me to talk to whenever and wherever you need to.’

‘And me.’

‘Need to? I don't need to, right?’

‘Course you don't, I know that.’

‘Sure, sure, what I meant was, whenever you want to, that's what I should have said.’

‘You know something? I'm lucky. I mean I've noticed them in pubs. You know, when we go in for a pint, I've always got the pair of you to talk to, so I don't mind standing’ there just having a few and enjoying the craic between us. But if they come in for a beer and they don't see anybody they know, and they hear us talking together, they just have their pint and bugger off quick, I expect it makes them feel awfully lonely to see me enjoying myself and they can’t.’

‘See what I mean, you're special. One in a thousand.’

‘Aye and I'll tell you something else as well.’

‘What, have you made your mind up?’

‘Nope!’

‘Well, what then; you'll need to decide soon, he’ll be phoning back any minute now.’

‘Don't let him harass you. You don't need to decide if you don't want to.’

‘So d’you want to know what I've decided well?’

‘Oh yes, I'm really pleased you've decided. Tell me.’

‘It wasn’t my breath, or a draft, or ghosts.’

‘What?’

‘What?’

‘The light. See you both forgot didn't you. You know I sometimes think youse don't listen. ‘

‘The light?’

‘Swinging.’

‘Swinging?’

Don’t you remember then? Aye well I've cracked it see. It wasn’t my breath or a draft. It was the fan heater. The draft from the fan heater that’s what was making it move!’

‘Is that the phone?’

D’you think it's for me?’

By David Patton

From: United States