My Wee Pal Adam.

“ What shift are you today Papa?”

 

“ Oh, I’m backshift. I like the backshift, I get a long lie on the backshift.”

 

“ I’m on the same shift as you Papa, I’m on the backshift too for a long lie.”

 

Adam turned and pulled the quilt over himself. While I made snoring noises,

 the wee boy, prematurely, sounded the horn.

 

“ Dooo, dooo, dooo.”

 

“ Aw naw, whit horn is that?”

 

“ That’s the backshift one Papa.”

 

“ Aw well, we better get up then.”

 

 I threw the quilt off, as I swung my legs onto the floor. Adam followed. We stood at the back of the room with the wee boy leading. He was holding his arms in position mannequin-like, as if snapped in mid swing. His arms, raised one above the other, gave the impression of a forty something woman pretending to power walk. 

 

I began…

 

 “ Heigh...ho… Heigh… ho… Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s off to work we go. We work all day and get no pay heigh ho heigh ho.”

 

We marched off with four-year-old Adam in front, singing at the top of our voices, swinging our arms and stomping forcefully all the way into the spare bedroom. 

 

In there, we grabbed our ‘picks’ and began to work while singing. 

 

“We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig our mine the whole day through”

 

Adam, the 'Gaffer', spotted Teddy Murphy slacking. He pointed an accusing finger and called, 

 

“ Murphy, get working, swing your pick man, come on Teddy put your back into it man.”

 

 Old Wilma the witch, hanging from the bedpost, wasn't pulling her weight. I called.

 

“ Wilma! Get your act together there, come on, get a move on wuman. “ 

 

The Gaffer lifted his hard working head, he cast me a smiling glance as he called to the lazy witch, 

 

“ Come on there 'WUMAN', work harder.”

 

 He bent his back once more to his task, a second later, he sounded the horn to end the shift.

 

“ Dooo, dooo, doooo,”

 

We formed single file and the wee boy led the way as we sang, 

 

“ Heigh ho, heigh ho it’s home from work we go, we’ve worked all day and got no pay, heigh ho,heigh ho.”

 

Unpaid, we marched with feet stomping and arms pumping, back across the landing and into the bedroom. The wee boy must have been enjoying the march. While still heigh-hoeing, he turned and continued marching. Back across the landing we went, and into the box-room. We turned again and headed back the way we had come. On the way, because of my breathing difficulties, I was out of breath.

 

“ Oh Adam, I have to stop. I’m puffed.”

 

“ Okay Papa.”

 

We sat at the top of the stairs to allow me to get my breath back. Adam is very sympathetic to my condition and accepts I have to stop sometimes to gather myself. He took a toy car from his pocket and after turning it upside down; he flicked the wheels with his thumb and watched them rolling as he waited. He must have flicked too hard; the car flew out of his hand and bounced down the stairs.

 

The wee boy looked at me, he smiled his wonderful wee smile as he said,

 

“ Let’s bum down and get it Papa.”

 

We lifted both our arms in the air, and as our bums hit the steps on the way down, we laughed at each other as we called, 

 

“Bump, bump, bump”

 

At the bottom, Adam recovered the renegade car, after a second he looked me in the eye, he put his wee hand on my thigh. As he absently tapped his hand on my leg, he said. 

 

“ Papa.”

 

“ Aye son.”

 

“ You know how ma old Granda’s in heaven now?”

 

“ Yes he is Adam. He’s up there with your old Grannie. They'll be sitting at a beach somewhere having a wee drink.Yir auld Granda liked a wee pint and yir Grannie liked the beach.”

 

“ Papa.”

 

“ Aye son.”

 

“Do you remember when you were in the hospital all that time, and you had that fing on yir face, and it wiz noisy like Darf Vader?”

 

“ Aye Adam.”

 

“ Well, you’re okay now Papa, eh.”

 

“ Aye son, I’m getting there. It won’t be long before I’m a lot better.” Adam put his head down, he was clearly thinking, and his wee hand on my leg, tapped, just a wee bit quicker. He lifted his head and looked at me as he said.

 

“ You’re not going anywhere Papa, eh no?”

 

“ No Adam, Papa’s not going anywhere. Not for a very, long, long time.”

 

The wee boy slid off the step and onto the carpet. He raised his arm and held it for a second, before placing it deliberately on the floor, as very young children do. He slowly laid his right cheek on his forearm and turned his face away from me. I could see his wee chest shuddering. he said very quietly, but clearly,

 

“ I’m not crying Papa."

I was.