Posts Tagged ‘School’

Half Cormorant - half mythical bird!

Half Cormorant – half mythical bird! Photo by Jilly Gardiner

I never did hand Jack into the cop shop!  How could I be the one who put him in foster care?  The poor kid would probably end up like me – I don’t want to be responsible for that!  So we had an agreement; me and me ma….   She’d be around for him in the daytime while I was at school, and I’d look after him at night while she went the boozer.    Binny was around sometimes, but was always slagging off Jack’s ma for being put in the slammer for robbing frozen chickens from Iceland (the shop, not the country!).   Me ma told me that Jack’s ma was caught with a chicken in each bra cup, and only got found out because one of the frozen chickens dropped out as she left the shop and broke three of her toes (so she couldn’t leg it from security!).   All I could think about was how big her knockers must have been to have a full chicken in each bra cup! Wish I’d been there!

Anyway, It turned out that Jack’s ma was on probation for when she got caught robbing wallets off her punters while they slept.. so they sent her straight back to the slammer after the frozen chicken incident.  Binny was well pissed off that it meant HE had to be responsible for Jack, so he did hardly nothing for him – that’s where I come in.

Me and Jack, we’ve got dead close in the past few months.. he’s like my brother.  Now the weather’s getting better I take him fishing down the dock, and we share pie and chips at our chippy.   Every Saturday I still work on The Butty Van with Pete at Greaty Market… Jack comes too.  Pete’s dead sound and lets Jack use his mobile phone to play games on while I’m serving hot dogs with extra onions and cups of tea.  Then Pete gives me and Jack some top scran which we stuff in until our bellies nearly burst.

Jack keeps asking me about the Liverbirds on top of the Liverbuildings, and why they don’t fly away… so I make up  loads of stories about them.    They say that Liverpool would fall into the sea if the Liverbirds flew away…. so I tell Jack stories about the time when the Liverbirds flew away and the city collapsed into the Mersey.   He cried for hours when I told him about how everyone in Liverpool nearly drowned.  I felt so guilty that I told him that the Liverbirds had flown to every country and city around the world, but had come home to Liverpool because they couldn’t find anywhere better.   So everybody in Liverpool was saved, and didn’t drown – and they all lived happily ever after.    That made Jack dry his tears and smile again.

Yep…. everything’s going good! That might be ’cause I turned fifteen the other day – and my luck’s changing… no prezzies though.    Penny Salerno has started looking at me again, even smiling sometimes! She’s still not letting me walk her home from school yet though, but I’m working on it.   Anthony and Susan still have me round for my tea twice a week, and they let Jack come too!   And me and Jack go to Ray’s house every Sunday and take my dog Regal for a dead long walk.  Ray says Regal crashes out for about 24 hours after I’ve walked him on Sundays…. He’s a card that dog!

And today the sun was shining (a bit)… A good feeling! I’m happy….. me and Jack and the people of Liverpool are happy, ’cause the Liverbirds are sitting pretty on top of the Liverbuildings, watching over us all!

Just want to say to all you lot out there….  Happy New Year to yez all!    As Mr. Butcher, our Religious Education teacher always says.. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!  (He’s dead boss for an  R.E. teacher – he tells jokes and everything!)

I’m still alive, and next year I’m going to live even better.

Have a good one, and I’ll catch up with yez all in 2013!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!

Luv from  Tommy Scouse

x  (P.S. The kiss is just a sign of thank you.. it doesn’t mean I’m a slushy wimp or nothing, ok?! )

BACON-BUTTY

BACON-BUTTY (Photo credit: johnb/Derbys/UK.)

I did such a boss job on The Butty Van (that’s what the burger van in Greaty Market is called), Pete, the owner, asked if I wanted a job! Every Saturday I’m working from ten till four on the van.  He gives me forty nicker in my hand.   If the bizzies turn up and I haven’t ducked in time, then I have to say Pete is my uncle, and I’m just helping him out for free.  Sorted! 🙂

NOW I’ve finally got the money to take Penny Salerno out, but she won’t talk to me ever since I accidentally gave her cousin Zani a scouse kiss! I’ve knocked at her house twice, and tried to talk to her at school, but she just said I’m not the lad she thought I was.  I’ve tried to explain that Zani had robbed my sales, and that I hadn’t meant to headbutt him; my head had just met with the bit between his eyes that’s all.  But Penny won’t have none of it, she just says she doesn’t even want to look at me.   She says I broke his nose! I tried to explain that I didn’t mean to (even if he did  deserve it!).

I’ve been wondering why I haven’t had a knock on the door from the bizzies for assault.  Then, on Saturday while I was doling out a bacon and egg roll with mushrooms to a customer on The Butty Van, I noticed two fellas in their twenties giving me the evils near the stall opposite.   They stood there for about five minutes before whistling over to me.  When I looked up one of them pretended to slice his throat with his hand before they walked away.   I don’t mind telling you, I wasn’t feeling too good when I walked home off the van, especially now it’s getting darker earlier.   But there was no sign of anyone on my way home.   I’d never seen the fellas before, but I bet you a burger and chips that they were Mafioso related to Zani, and I don’t want to be waking up with a horse’s head in my bed! (I’ve seen The Godfather!)

I’ve never felt the need to carry a weapon, but somehow I think things are changing…

 

 

The offending Lamb-Banana!

After a crappy summer of dodging me ma and her needles and dreaming up exciting ways I could have Binny knocked off, I was glad to be at school (yeah, I know…Dead weird eh!).   It was good to see Penny Salerno and her shiny black long hair everyday; I didn’t need to wait a whole week to meet her on a Saturday anymore.   But I don’t know if she looked at me in a very good light when we had a bet on the way home from school…. Penny reckoned that I’d be arrested if I went and sat on one of those Lamb-Bananas in town.   I bet her twenty pence that there’s no way that someone can be arrested for sitting on a Lamb-Banana.   So we shook hands on it.   I sat on the nearest Lamb-Banana to prove my point…. and found out that I owed Penny twenty pence, ’cause you CAN be arrested for sitting on a Lamb-Banana!

Whether it was the actual ‘sitting’ on it that got me arrested, or whether it was the actual pushing the bizzy over onto his arse as he tried to man-handle me off the Lamb-Banana that actually put the nail in the coffin.. I’m not really sure which.    Either way, I found myself down the cop-shop being talked down to by a bizzy who thought he was interrogating an al-Qaeda suspect (he was obviously a new recruit who was looking at this opportunity to make a first impression on his fellow bizzy officers!).

I said to him ‘ Look mate.. all I did was sit on a Lamb-Banana!  You haven’t just foiled a major bomb plot to blow up the Liverbuildings!’

Well… the word ‘bomb’ was enough to have a second bizzy come in and treat me like a terrorist suspect.. both not a lot older than me, and full of shit.

I was in that cop-shop for nearly 3 hours, not a glass of water, not a phone call! If it wasn’t for the fact that they let me go without charge after  3 hours, they were dead lucky ’cause I’d have put a counter assault claim in for how that copper man-handled me off the Lamb-Banana, and the fact that I didn’t get my rights to a solicitor and phone call down at the station.  They got off lightly there!

As I walked outside and smelt the fresh air of freedom, there was Penny.. tearful and red-eyed, waiting for me!  She ran to me and put her arms tight around me, bursting into tears.  I was overcome myself – she was so beautiful! She DID really care for me! This wasn’t something I witnessed in my life very often.   My heart felt like it was going to burst as I felt her arms around me, and her tears against my face.

I really think I’m in love with Penny Salerno….

April came and went… I walked Penny Salerno home at every chance I got.   Her laughing at every stupid joke I told (I even made some of them up!), and me feeling dead warm inside every time she did laugh.  I started hating the weekends ’cause it meant I wouldn’t see her (But I still loved walking our Regal at Ray’s house on Sundays!).   Me ma was hardly ever home, and she was showing signs of using.    I’d tried to ignore it over the weeks, and kept telling myself that they were just Binny’s needles I was finding.  But when Binny disappeared off the face of the earth again, I knew for sure me ma was on it.

Penny Salerno was the only thing that kept my mind off it.  I couldn’t wait ’til four o’clock Monday to Friday just so I could walk her to the end of her road.  She was my drug, just like smack was now me ma’s.    If I thought that I was losing me ma before, I knew now that I’d lost her for good.

What a mad few months!  It all started in April on my 14th birthday.  Yeah, I’m 14 now!  Only seems like yesterday since I turned 13 and became a proper man… and now here I am half way to 28!  Being half way to 28 has its ups and downs though… I’ve got all these feelings.. stuff I’ve never known before.  It’s all going on in my head; sending me off my head.

They want you to behave like an adult, but then speak to you like a 5 year old little kid.   It’s dead hard being half way to 28.

Early April I only had one thing on my mind.. Penny Salerno.   We’d got dead close over the weeks.  I was walking her home from school every day.  Loads of stuff I say makes her laugh.   She does something to me…  when she smiles.. something deep inside me that I’ve never really felt before (well apart from the time I found those girly mags stuffed in the inside of Binny’s guitar – they gave me a weird feeling when I flicked through them, but this feeling with Penny is better),  I can’t stop thinking about her when I’m on my own, locked in my bedroom.

I’d started walking Penny home, but stopping at the end of her road, ’cause for such a gorgeous, perfect girl, she had one humongous fault…..  BIG BROTHERS… and to make things worse, they had ME in their sights!

Been to seven dentists around the city looking for one that would fix my teeth.  Five said they were private, one said they weren’t accepting new patients, and the last one said they’d treat me, but I needed to bring in a birth certificate and some I.D.  Where the bleedin’ hell would my birth certificate be? I bet me ma hasn’t got a clue.  Bet she can’t even remember giving birth to me, never mind knowing where my birth certificate is!

I’ve always thought that I was probably left on someone’s doorstep by me ma when I was born, but then she had been gutted when the bizzies found out where she lived and gave me back.

Kenny Dalglish, manager of Liverpool FC.

Kenny Dalglish - Courtesy of Wikipedia

I want to go to school tomorrow ’cause it’s my last footy practice before the match against Childwall Boys on Saturday… I can’t miss that.   They beat us 2 – 0 last time we played them, and I’m determined to get one past the smug gets this time….  BACK OF THE NET!!!!!!!  STICK THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT.. YOU SMUG GETS!!!!.   But the thought of someone accidentally knocking into me and banging my face makes me want to throw up!  But can’t let King Kenny (Dalglish) down can I?  I’m not going to be able to just cry off a match because I’ve got tooth ache when I’m playing for Liverpool am I?

Oh well… Let’s hope there’s some whiskey under the settee so I can get some sleep tonight!

You should have seen the state of my face! I’d have looked better if a tractor had run over it, and then reversed back over it with a plough attached!  I look a lot better now… as long as I don’t open my gob.    It’s dead hard to talk without showing my teeth!

I went to school for the first time today since it happened.   Didn’t want to miss too much, and was fed up with sitting on the dock and not talking to no one.   I didn’t even go and walk Regal on Sunday ’cause I didn’t want Ray to see my face… and Regal always makes me laugh, so it would have been a dead giveaway.

I don’t smile much at school, so I knew I’d be able to get away with it.   And Penny Salerno is off with the flu, so at least I won’t have to smile at her, and she won’t see what a state the inside of my mouth is in.

Thing is…. Teeth don’t grow back do they?  Well not your second lot anyway.    So I need to see a dentist, but I haven’t got one.  One of the teeth that fell out has left a gaping hole the size of the Grand Canyon which has swollen right up like a pig’s foot! And I don’t mind telling you, it’s f&ckin’ killing me.   I can’t eat on one side of my mouth, and I can’t sleep with the pain.  I’ve been swigging on me ma’s whiskey (which she keeps hidden under the settee) just to ease the pain so I can sleep…… and let me tell you – it’s taking a lot of whiskey to knock me out!  But now I’m back at school I don’t want to get up with a hang over, so I’ve tried to cut it out.   I really do need to go to the dentist.

And me ma?   Well… she knows f&ck all about what she did.   And I think I’ve seen her about 3 times since she knocked me against the wall, and that was just to help her to bed when she comes in bladdered from the boozer after hours.  I’ve been helping her to bed and getting her coffee and water, but I can’t look at her in the face.. I still feel so mad.   I love her.. but I hate her.

Now to find a dentist.

 

I’ve been to hell.   A place I never want to stay.   It smells like our school, and echos in just the same way… but the doors bang harder, and the security guards (what they call ‘screws’) are even more evil than our Science teacher!

formerly known as strangeways

Image via Wikipedia

Anthony had agreed to come to Strangeways in Manchester so I could see the fella who was me dad.   He’d written a few emails and made a few phone calls – and then here we were – being checked for flickies and coke as we walked in.

I felt sick.   Sick with excitement, sick with dread.  I was finally going to meet the fella who was me dad, Carl Laurence.    I’d rehearsed it in the mirror loads of times – smiling, shaking hands with myself ‘Hello dad, I’m Tommy.. your son’.   But now I’d forgotten what I’d rehearsed.  I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone how to shake hands.

Anthony was dead boss.. he put his hand on my shoulder and smiled.. he didn’t have to say anything.. I knew he was telling me that he’d make sure everything was all right.

And then, there I was, sitting opposite the fella I’d been waiting to meet for years.   Tall, brown skin, messy, Afro hair.   He didn’t shake my hand.  He just stared at me across the table.

I couldn’t talk.  Anthony explained to him who I was, and that me ma had said I was his son.

‘So…. Tommy!’  Said Carl, ‘You’ve grown up!’

Turned out he’d known me when I was a baby.   It’s weird, but I didn’t have the feelings  I thought I would.   Before I came to Strangeways I so wanted to meet him, for him tell me he was my dad.  But now as I watched his lined face, and looked between his missing teeth, I didn’t feel like I had any connection to him at all.

‘Are you me dad?’ I said nervously.

Carl smiled, but not a good smile, a smile that meant something else, ‘I could be.  With a mother like yours, who knows!’

At first I didn’t know what he was getting at.. but then I got it.  I stood up, ‘What are you saying about me ma?’

‘Nothin’ lad, nothin’.  I must admit, he did look a bit sorry for saying it.

Anthony got hold of my arm, and made me sit down.   But I couldn’t listen to Carl Laurence after that.  He kept speaking, but I couldn’t hear it.. I couldn’t understand it.   I watched his eyes, his mouth, his wrinkles moving.   If he was my dad, I didn’t give a f&ck.   I had a horrible feeling welling up in my stomach as he kept speaking.  He was trying to be nice but I hated him.

I didn’t speak again.   Just listened to his words, but couldn’t take them in.   I was made up when Anthony said we should go.. he knew something was wrong… he knew I wanted to leave Carl Laurence behind.

As I left, he said he was getting out soon, and he’d look me up.   Why did I just want to cry.. not wimpy crying, but angry crying.  But  I wasn’t going to show him.   I kept it together right until I got outside the first doors.. and then Anthony put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.  I fell apart!  Burst into loads of tears… Stupid, wimpy bastard that I am.

I just don’t know what to think or feel anymore.  Who the f$ck am I?

I spend most of my school day staring out of the window across the school playing field.  What’s beyond that field is what really interests me.   Mister Reynolds, our Geography teacher, is the only one who makes school interesting (apart from footy practice of course!).   Mister Reynolds tells us about people and places all over the world.  And he’s so nice, that I can go and talk to him afterwards.. asking more questions about countries and people that he’s mentioned in the lesson.    He’s dead happy to talk to me about it.

English: Playing field at Cowplain School

Image via Wikipedia

Did you know that it’s rude to show the bottom of your feet in Thailand?  How mad’s that!  And if you stand on a coin, you’re disrespecting their king, because his head’s on it.  There’s just so much out there.. and I’m stuck here in this cold, square, miserable school with Johno Rathbone who gobs on the back of your school jumper, and Jonesy who bangs his head against walls so he looks hard.

Penny Salerno came into school with a load of those National Geographics she got off her ma the other day.  She put them in a plazzy bag so no one would see them.  There was about ten of them!  I was so made up.   I couldn’t wait to read them – so I took the afternoon off and went and sat on the dock.   If I’d have got them out at school, Terry Bennett would have flushed them down the toilet along with my head.

The Ice caps, the tribes of the Amazon, the cocaine villages of Colombia…. there’s just a whole world out there (all right, I’ll stay away from the coke heads in Colombia), why do people stay in the same place all their lives when they’re not happy?  Why do they live on scanky streets, with cold damp houses, and schools where all you learn is how to throw a good punch so you don’t get your head kicked in so badly next time?  If things aren’t good, then what have we got to lose by walking away and trying somewhere else?

It can’t be any worse, I reckon.

Me ma says I think too much.   I say it’s better than not thinking at all.    She says I annoy people with all my thinking.  But she doesn’t think at all.. except to think where the next whiskey’s coming from.

It all starts next week when I go to Strangeways to speak to me dad.  It only took an email and two phone calls.

That’s when I start thinking my way out of here….