Ugly Puggly 63

‘It’s the police,’ Ugly Puggly whispered and giggled. We were soon rolling about the floor laughing as if we were hiding from the Provy cheque man. He used to come for payment on a Friday night, when my da got paid. He expected to get paid too. But he was bottom of the list. Some families, like the Quinn’s, didn’t even have the decency to hide or make stupid excuses about having forgotten. Got their days mixed up. Or were skint that week because he’d been paid off, the cat died, and they had to pay for its funeral. They just told him to fuck off. But we were more sensible. A Provy cheque at Christmas got us into the New Year with some new school gear. Bit of give and take.

‘We know you’re in there,’ shouted a police officer through the letterbox.

Dave clutched at Ugly Puggly’s shoulders. He’d fallen for that spiel before, but wouldn’t do so again. ‘I need tae go to the toilet or I’ll pee myself,’ he chuckled. But then he became more serious. ‘Maybe we should let them in.’ His lip drooped. ‘They’ll take you tae hospital. And you’ll be safe in there.’

I hadn’t thought of that. ‘Maybe he’s right,’ I glanced sideways at Ugly Puggly.

His quick mind usually came up with an instant answer, but he pondered too long and I kept on at him.

‘Maybe it is for the best. It’s no as if the gangster are after me or the playboy. It’s you they want.’

The banging on the door stopped and our laughter fell away, somehow felt indecent.

Dave whimpered, ‘Maybe we should turn oorsel in. Tell them it was aw a mistake and accidental.’

‘Don’t talk shite,’ I hissed, standing up and looking down at him. Glancing at the window and door, daring them to keep harassing us. We were Musketeers.

I reached down and gave Ugly Puggly a helping hand, even though he was fitter than me.  

‘Thanks,’ he said. But held my hand a heartbeat too long, until our eyes met. ‘When it comes to choices between bad and worse, it’s not always as black and white as it seems, but it’s hard to explain. While one gang, the state threatens violence, it can be long-lasting, but when it’s oer, it’s oer.’ He licked his lips. ‘With the other gang, it’s never oer. And they ne’er forget. Because if they forget to make a lesson of yeh, their world falls apart. The devil had a message for Faust: the greater the insight—or  self-knowledge—you gain, the higher price you will pay. And he told him no to waste it on young boys. Or, in oer words, throw pearls before pigs.’

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. And he must have seen that on my face.

Dave stood up beside us, his forehead furrowed. ‘So was that guy Faust sayin, don’t tell the pigs, or police, nothin?’

‘Somethin like that,’ Ugly Puggly shrugged. ‘We’ve made a Faustian pact. It’s written the blood of the guy I killed. Jist because I go intae hospital for a few weeks, or months, even doesnae mean his old friends will forget it. Their business model precludes that.’ He pointed the finger at Dave. ‘They’ll hurt you and yours, if they cannae get me, because they know that’ll hurt me. And when they finish hurtin you, they’ll come for me.’ He turned towards me.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘But if yeh go and work for them, they’ll no hurt anybody. And we’ll huv a few quid tae get by.’

‘That’s true,’ Ugly Puggly echoed my words. ‘I wouldnae hurt anybody yeh know. Which is quite different fae no hurtin anybody. As Mephistopheles knew, tae yer own self be true. Cruelty is a blood sport.’  

‘Aye,’ I admitted. ‘I couldnae dae it either.’ I eyed the playboy. ‘But he could, get his a leather coat and a pair of jackboots, and he’d make a good Nazi.’

‘Shut it,’ he said, squaring up to me. ‘It’s you that’s walkin about wae yer eyes shut.’  

I was wrong, of course, he proved himself better than the rest of us. But our path was set then. And we were leaving. Not whether we want to or not. We just had no other option. ‘Fuckin Musketeers, wish I’d never mentioned then. France then, I suppose.’ But I couldn’t really get it into my head. ‘I’ll take yeh oer there, but I’ll come back and lie low.’

‘Yer missin the point,’ said Dave. ‘Huv yeh no been listenin?’

Ugly Puggly cut in, ‘Leave it. The whole point is there is nae point. Tae yer own sel be true.’

‘That’s whit I said,’ Dave said.

‘I’ll gie yeh this,’ I replied. ‘Yeh talk a lot o shite. And I can prove it tae yeh.’ I waited until his lips had curled into a sneer. ‘Dae yeh even know where France is?’

‘Aye,’ his lips tighten. ‘It’s in France.’

Ugly Puggly sighed. ‘I’ll make some tea and toast and we’ll get an atlas oot and I’ll show yeh.’

‘Right,’ said Dave. ‘Whit’s an atlas?’

‘You want tae take him tae France wae yeh?’ I asked Ugly Puggly.

‘I’m takin you, umn’t I?’

‘That’s funny.’

‘I wish it was,’ he replied. ‘I should make somethin wae tomatoes. I don’t want them tae go aff. Maybe somethin wae anchovies…And a bit of lamb in the freezer, with mint sauce.’

‘Yeh goin aff yer rocker?’

‘Possibly,’ he smiled serenely.

‘I’ll need tae get a new phone,’ Dave said in a whiny voice.

I grimaced, putting aside my first thought. ‘I’ll take you oot the morra and get yeh wan. Molly’s got the computer. And I’ll take a look at the Bongo. Gie it an airing. Two birds wae wan stane.’   

‘Who’ll pay for it?’ he asked.

‘I will,’ Ugly Puggly was quick to reply. ‘I’ll pay for everythin from here on in. There’s a few things we need tae get—like passports!’

‘Fuck,’ I said. ‘I think mine’s ran oot?’

‘I’ve never hud a passport,’ said Dave.

‘Neither huv I,’ said Ugly Puggly. ‘Never really seen the need fur wan—until noo. And even noo, I’m no sure it matters.’