Goatie 24

   ‘Yeh hink dogs can by psychic?’ Archie pondered.

I wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or me. I was going to keep silent, but muttered, ‘Dunno.’

That was enough to set him off again. ‘Yeh here aw sorts o hings, daen’t yeh? I watched this programme and the dog went and got the masters slippers and laid them at the door, before he came hame.’ He nodded as if that was that settled.

‘Whit about his wife?’

‘No, she didnae wear slippers.’

I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘No, I meant, his wife might have looked at the clock or get up tae put on the dinner, or somethin? An the dog followed the lead.’

‘That’s funny,’ he said staring at me blankly. ‘I’m starvin. Wonder if we’ll get a roast the night?’

He’d hardly moved out of bed apart from to eat and shite. His jaws were always moving. A freckled mass, talking or eating. I’d stuck the ear buds in without playing any music. That worked for a while. But then he’d wave to attract my attention and ask me something stupid.

‘You know Moses,’ he said. ‘The Jewish guy?’

I tapped my left ear, but I could still hear. ‘Aye, but no personally.’

‘Well, yeh know how Moses couldnae see God or he’d turn intae a pillar o salt, unless he was a burnin bush?’  

I had to think about that for a few seconds, pick it apart, and guess the rest, but he kept rambling on leaving me more scope to get what he meant.

‘Well, yeh know if yeh see the devil’s true form it’s meant tae drive you mad?

‘I’ve never really thought about it,’ I admitted.

‘Well, God doesnae bother wae o that shite unless it’s the voice fae heaven crap, or a big swirling wind. But yeh know the devil can take any form. Like a snake or somethin. He could turn into that bird yeh always wanted to shag at school, but hud absolutely nae chance. God might tell yeh, you’ll meet up in heaven, but yeh cannae shag anybody in heaven. So if yeh end up shaggin her, it must be the devil chargin intae her tae get yer soul.

I’d adopted the tactic of agreeing with everything. ‘Aye, yer probably right.’

‘That Goat hink yeh keep shaggin,’ he reasoned. ‘That’s probably the devil, eh?

‘Look pal, I’m no shaggin anybody, certainly no a goat.’

He was apologetic. ‘I don’t mean yer a poof—although I’ve nothin against poofs personally. But yeh said the lady goat was something a bit special. Like Pamela Anderson wae four legs, or somethin?’

I considered what he’d said. ‘I meant like she was like the Madonna.’  

‘Pamela Anderson,’ he shrugged. ‘Madonna, I mean, I like her tae. Some pair o tits on her. An she done aw that nudie stuff. Fuckin hell, I’d shag er. Goat or nae goat.’

‘Cheers.’

‘When I was steaming drunk wance, I shagged a—’   

I held my hand up in a stop sign. ‘Don’t tell me.’

‘Fair enough. When we get oot o here, we’ll get a couple o pints. A couple o whisky chasers. An we’ll get that goat o yours tae pick the lottery numbers. I seen it on the telly. A horse or somethin paws the numbers tae indicate whit tae choose. Wan, two, three, etc.’ He picked something from the inside of his mouth and wiped it on the sheets. ‘Horses can be psychic tae yeh know. No jist Red Rum.’

‘Aye, they can. An did yeh know Red Rum spelled backwards is murder?’

‘That’s funny that.’ He yawned. ‘I hope yeh don’t hink I’m being ignorant, but I’m gonnae get a bit of shut-eye. I’m gonnae make a few calls later on, if I’ve enough money in my account.’

My ears were exhausted. Next thing I remember was Droopy Eye’s face hovering over me.

‘You’re white as a sheet.’ She rubbed the top of my arm. ‘I think you’ve had another one of your episodes.’

My eyes darted to the other bed. ‘Where’s?’ I’d forgotten his name. I swallowed the taste of nausea, once, twice, there times.

Droopy Eyes studied me. ‘He died. Seems to be another heart attack.’

I leaned across the bed and spewed the roast dinner on the floor. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

‘Sorry!’ I wasn’t sure if I was apologising for the putrid mess or another death.

‘Do you remember how it happened?’

‘Nah,’ I shook my head. ‘I was oot cold. That boy could talk aw day an aw night.’

‘Interesting,’ she said. Her eyes rolled back leaving only the sclera. A snake’s tongue poked out of her mouth and back in.

I scrambled out the side of the bed. Shouting for help. Scanning the room for a weapon, I grabbed the plastic beaker, making a fist of it, and slopping water over the bed and floor.

‘What the matter with you?’ she asked. Looking and sounding normal.

‘No sure,’ I put the beaker down. All the fight going out of my shoulders . I studied  the mess on the floor.

‘I’ll send for the doctor,’ she said. ‘We don’t want another casuality.’

I raised the palm of my hand and felt my way back into a sitting position on the bed. My arms, my legs, my whole body felt disjointed. ‘Nae doctors,’ I told her. ‘They’re fuckin useless.’

She eyed me. ‘You sure?’

‘Aye, waste o time.’ I wished she would stop talking, so I could roll over and go back to sleep.’

A woeful expression on her face. ‘No all doctors are useless.’

‘Jist fuck off, will yeh. An let me be.’

She sighed. ‘I’m trying to be nice.’

‘Yer no paid tae be nice. Yeh took the king’s shillin. Yer paid tae cheat and scheme and tell lies like the rest o them. If yeh were being nice, yed be workin somehere else.’

I rolled over and turned my back on her.