Tattie Zkowen Boaxes Clivur
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: A lot of strong ones.
Description: If ye wur ever curious is tae how ri wee dug git oan, here it is in white ‘n’ white.
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As fights go, it wisnae much tae write hame aboot. Two punches wis flung, wan missed an' wan connectit.
Ri three days hid been ri longest ony e' ri Zkowens could ever remember an' naeb'dy argued whin Bonnie says it hid been mair lit a foartnight. Evrub'dy wis oan peens aboot whithur ur no' they wur gonnae get tae keep ri wee dug; Wee Jinky, is e' hid recently been kent is. Luckily fur Tattie, 'e hid missed the maist e' it wi' bein' oan ri back-shift bit Tina's reports whin e' gote hame, likenin' ri hoose tae Bedlam, hud 'um 'hinkin' World War ri next yin hud broke oot.
Thursday wis ri chinge a' shift an' rat pit 'um oan earlies; it wis also ri last day et skill fur ri weans.
Tattie wis up early. 'E wis is up tae high doh is evrub'dy aboot Wee Jinky's fate bit e' couldnae let the rest e' rum see rat; sumb'dy hud tae keep ri heid. 'E taen ri wee dug doon tae ri park an' telt 'um 'hings wis luckin' guid bit ri wee fulla could sense e' wis mibbe et ri kiddin' oan; 'e couldnae really blame 'um.
Tattie wis gled tae git ri shift ower an' by wi. R'urr guys et ri work hid noticed 'e wisnae et 'esel', hudnae been furra coupla days bit nane e' rum wis ower keen tae approach 'um aboot it.
'E taen ri wee dug oot again is shin is 'e gote in fae work ren set aboot preppin' ri dinner. 'E pit ri wireless oan bit shin gote scunner't wi' ri presenter's antics. “S'posed tae be a music show,” 'e says tae ri wee dug, “fuckin' talk show so it is, magazine show rat's whirrit is. Rese gadgies urnae happy wi' jeest yackin' atween ri songs, aw naw, ruv gote tae yak aw ower ri intro tae. Mibbes a wee bit a' George Thorogood an' ri Destroyers'll cheer us up wee man, whit d'ye 'hink eh?”
Tattie only gote is faur is switchin' ri wireless aff whin ri phone went. 'E luc't et ri wee dug an' ri wee dug let oot a sigh tae let 'um ken 'e wis 'hinkin ri same 'hing; an' rightly so is it turn't oot. It wis Morven, ri wummin vet, “Ye gote a pen handy rerr, Tattie?” Thur wis nae howdydoos ur nuhun' an' Tattie fear't ri worst. “Take rese names doon an' try rum oot oan yur wee dug an' check 'es response. 'Uv ye still gote 'um?”
“Aye,” says Tattie, “fire away, Morven hen.”
“Right y'are, Javeed left me a wee note, ye ready? Snowy......Toby.......Buster......an' Spoat. Y'uv tae try thame an' phone us back, right?”
“Spoat?” says Tattie, “ri wee guy's pure white so 'e is. Awright, Morven, a'm oan it, so a'm ur. U'll gie ye a wee phone back.
'E tried 'um wi' Spoat furst bit thur wis nae reaction, ri same wi' Toby an' Snowy bit whin e' cawed ri wee fulla Buster thur wis. Tattie hud niver heard ri wee dug growlin' in ri three ur four days 'ed been styin' wi rum an 'es blood ran caul' tae hear it. 'E geid it Buster wance ur twice again an' kent 'e wis likely tae huv tae gei 'um up. 'E wis scunner't tae fuck.
Nae pint in pirrin' it aff. 'E phoned Morven an' gote Jinty, ri receptionist. “Q 'n' A Vets,” she says in 'ur best receptionist vice, “how may we help yous?”
“Jinty, it's me, Tattie. Pit Morven oan wull ye, hen?”
“A kin hear it in yur voice, Tattie.....whit wan wis it?”
“Buster.” Ri wee dug grumul't again an' went tae 'es bed in ri coarner. “D'ye ken who 'e belangs tae, hen? Whit ur they like, eh?”
“Furst impressions....a 'hink 'es a right junkie bastar't bit wi' cannae say nuhun' if it's his wee dug. Here's Morven.”
Efter Tattie hud explained ri wee dug's reaction, Morven gote back tae 'um an' tel't 'um tae go roon' et hauf fower an' tae bring ri wee dug wi' 'um.
'E thote mibbe 'e wid bump intae ri weans, then remember't they wur gin doon the toon wi' thur pals tae celebrate brekkin' up fur the hoalidays. 'E wis relieved et that.
Ris guy wint doon tae 'es knees an' slapped 'es thighs fur ri wee dug tae go tae 'um bit ri wee dug stide whair 'e wis et Tattie's heel. 'E hudnae waantit tae go through ri door bit dunnit 'cos Tattie asked 'um; bit noo 'e wis growlin' low an' menacin'.
“Wee fulla disnae waant tae ken ye, pal,” says Tattie, “ur 'e widda been ower tae ye bey noo.”
“'Sma dug, ya fuckin' poof ye. You kin jeest stye oot e' it.”
Morven intervened et rat is Tattie bunched 'es fists. “Looks tae me is ri wee fulla's shite feart e' ye, Mr Ball. As a Veterinarian a'm 'hinkin' mibbe ye don't treat 'um right, sae whit a'm gonnae dae is phone ri R.S.P.C.A. so's they kin assess yur interaction an' yur behaviour tewards 'um.”
“A tel't ye rat's ma dug, ya fuckin' fanny. A waant ri polis here aboot ris an' a waant rum NOO.”
Jinty wis already oan ri' case an' thur must a been a patrol cor roon aboot 'cos it wisnae two meenits tae a polis wummin' breenjed through ri door lit thur'd been a murdur. Ri junkie wis screamin' ri bit doon, ri wee dug wis staunin' tae Tattie's heel an' Morven wis wavin' a tranquiliser needle; ur so she says.
Ri polis shut ri junkie up, she kent 'um weel an' suggestit mibbe 'e wis cairyin' an' rat's whit quaitin't 'um doon. Anurr polis jine't thum an' he kent ri junkie tae. Ri big polis listen't tae ri tale ren suggestit ri litmus test an' Tattie wis happy tae go alang wi' it; ri junkie tae whin 'e fun oot 'e wis gonnae get huckle't if 'e didnae.
Tattie an' ri junkie wis tae staun oot ri back against ri faur wa' an' see who ri wee dug went tae whin cawed. Morven hud 'um in 'ur airms.
Ri wee dug didnae move whin Morven pit 'um doon. Ri junkie wis gein' it aw ri 'c'moan sons' an' 'c'moan Busters' bit e' stood wi' Morven. Whin Tattie says 'heel', ri wee fulla done it straight aff lit 'e wis oan a string.
“Ya bastartin' poof, ye,” says ri junkie, “at's ma fuckin' dug, so it is.” 'E flung a punch et Tattie bit 'e telegraphed it an' Tattie geid 'um a sair face is a reflex reaction. 'E'd been handy et ri boxin' whin 'e wis et ri skill bit 'e geid it up whin 'e punched 'es best pal oot the ring an' pit 'um in ri hoaspital. 'E hud niver really liked punchin' folk bit thur wis a wee smile a' satisfaction oan 'es coupon is e' popped ris yin wan. Whin ri junkie wint doon ri wee dug fancied a bit e' 'um tae bit Tattie brote 'um tae heel.
Ri polis howked ri junkie oot ri place wi' 'es airms up 'es back; rey even asked Tattie did 'e waant tae press assault charges; baith verbal an' physical. A mean, a fulla in a pink vest isnae necessarily a poof, is 'e?
“Book 'um in fur 'es jabs an' tae get chipped,” says Morven tae Jinty, “an' howk thon photie oot ri windae wull ye please?”
Naeb'dy wis talkin' tae naeb'dy whin Tattie an' ri wee fulla gote hame. Bonnie wis strummin' 'ur guitar, J J hud 'ur nib in a book an' Tina wis fillin' ri waasher. Tattie didnae let oan whit hid happen't an' 'e telt wee Jinky tae dae ri same whin 'e let 'um oot ri back.
“Daddy,” says J J, “mind ye says ye wid try an' buy Wee Jinky aff who 'e balangs tae if rey turn't up?”
“A says rat, wee hen. Aye, a mind sayin' rat, right enough.”
“Ha much wid ye pey furrum?”
“Aw ma money, hen, an' if a kin fun yur Mammy's purse ren aw hur money tae. In fact, a wid help masel' tae yours an' Bonnie's cash tae 'cos a ken yisuv git hunners stashed awa' fur a rainy day. Bit, whit makes ye ask?”
“D'ye 'hink oor Owen'll chuck in wi' ye tae, Daddy?”
“If 'e didnae 'ed be scratched right aff ri Christmas caird list. A kin tell ye rat fur nuhin'.
Tina kent sumhin' hid happen't bit kep it tae 'ursel', wummin's intuition. “Tell yur faither whit's happenin' wi' ri kickba',” she says tae J J.
“A'm in ri unner fourteens oan Seturday, so am ur, Daddy. Mr Brodie howked me oot e' ri assembly tae tell me ris moarnin'. Me an' hur ower 'err's gonnae be in ri same team.”
“Hur ower 'err, eh? Is rat ony wye tae talk aboot yur big sister. A thote thur wis a bit e' an atmosphere roon this wye. Whit ri hell's gin oan wi' yis?
“Wur aw upset aboot Wee Jinky,” says Bonnie. “Aw wur tempurs is gettin' aw frayed tae bits wi' it.”
“Did a no' tell yis a wid soart it? Huv yis nae faith in yur aul' faithur ataw?”
“C'moan an' get yur dinnurs,” says Tina, eyein' up Tattie suspiciously. “It disnae dae nane e' us ony guid bein' et each others throats lit ris, dis it Tattie?”
“A cannae argue wi' ye rerr, Tina doll. Wull sumb'dy pass me ri breed?”
Efter thur tea, ri weans set aboot thur summer projects, even 'though they hud near seevin weeks tae dae it. J J broke ri silence. “How is it Wee Jinky sticks tae you aw ri time Daddy? A mean, 'e comes tae us whin yur no' here bit whin yur in 'es never far awa' fae ye. W'uv a' noticed it, huvint wi oor Bonnie?”
Bonnie jeest gruntit in response; she wisnae sure if she wis talkin' tae ur sister yit ur no'.
“A'v noticed rat tae,” says Tina, sensin' an opportunity tae get rum aw oan ri same page. “Whye wid ye say rat wis, Tattie?”
“Weel, “ says Tattie, clappin' ri wee fulla's heid fur effect, “ri wee man kens who feeds 'um, who walks 'um, who brushes 'um, who chats tae 'um an who plays wi' 'um.”
“Bit....bit......bit we dae aw rat tae, Daddy,” wailed J J. “Dain't wi oor Bonnie...dain't wi?”
Bonnie smelt a rat bit she couldnae work it oot, so she says nuhin'; bit she wis obviously curious is tae whit Tattie wid come oot wi'.
“Dain't wi, Mammy?” pleadit J J. “We luk eftur 'um, dain't wi........?”
“...........Exactly ma pint,” interruptit Tattie, “ 'at's exactly whit a'm tryin' tae get acroas tae yis. Ri wee fulla disnae like aw rat fussin' an' stuff, so rat's whye 'e hings aboot wi' me, fur sum peace an quait.”
Tina wis in ri sink dain' ri dishes, 'ur shooders wis judderin' up an' doon an' Tattie couldnae tell wis she laughin' ur greetin'; proably baith. The weans gote it whin she turn't roon' tae face rum an they a' stertit laughin' ri gither. Wee Jinky barked ri bit doon, ri wee man likes a guid laugh, so 'e dis.
“A'v jeest been tae see Morven,” says Tattie, silencin' the kitchen tae whair it wis a vacuum. “Ri fulla rit Jinky balang't tae couldnae luk eftur 'um, sae we gote furst dibs oan 'um.”
Thur wis tears an' aw Tattie's weemin wis huggin' an' kissin' each urr tae bits. Ri wee dug wis a wee bit bemused bey it aw an parked 'esel' unner Tattie's chair tae it aw died doon a bit.
“Whye did ye no' tell us earlier, Daddy?” says Bonnie.
“A didnae waant tae get atween oor J J an' 'ur dinner. Huv ye seen 'ur eatin' lately? A'm gonnae huv tae get anurr joab if she keeps gaun' et it lit rat.”
“Kin ye no' bey serious fur wance't, Daddy? We wis aw oan peens an' rerr wis you wi' rat wee nugget unner yer bunnet.”
“A couldnae get a wurd in, ma wee lamb, bit yis ken noo an' evrub'dy's back tae playin' happy families again. Is rat no' braw, eh?”
“Jeest talk is through whit Morven says wurd fur wurd, wull ye?” says J J. “A waant tae bey shair yuv gote it right, is aw.”
“Whit's ris aboot ri kickba' ye wur tellin' us, wee hen?” says Tattie, neatly chingin' ri subject. “Yir in ri unner fourteens, 'zat right?”
J J picked it up an' ran wi' it. Tellin' how she wis tae take oan an important midfield role an' how ri opposition widnae huv a scooby is tae how guid a player she wis an' how she wis right luckin' furrit tae playin' alangside 'ur big sister. Bonnie gote 'ursel aw enthusiastic aboot it tae ren an' ri hoose taen oan a semblance a' normality.
Tattie wis readin' ri Herald an' Wee Jinky wis kippin' et 'es feet whin Owen an' Kjerstin drapped by. Wee Jinky taen a wee sniff et rum an' wint back tae whit 'e wis dain'. Ri weans wis oan Owen an' Kjerstin lit limpets, they hud news, the kinna news thit couldnae wait; evrub'dy wis talkin' et wance't.
“A don't waant ris tae go tae yur heids,” Tattie says tae ri weans whin ri hubbub hid died doon a wee bit, “bit rurr's gonnae be scouts et riss kickba' gemme. 'Et baith gemmes really bit a 'hink espeshly et ri unner fourteens.”
Rat shut ri weans up fur a second ur two. It wis Tina rit fun 'ur vice furst. “Whair did ye get rat fae, Tattie?”
“'Saw ower ri toon bey noo,” says Tattie. “A'm awfy surprised nane e' yis 'uv heard aboot it.”
“Scoatland scouts?” says Bonnie.
“Scoatland, Europe an' mibbes fae aw ower ri world,” says Tattie wi' quite an air a' authority.
“Ur you et wan e' yur wind-ups, oor Tattie?” says Owen.
“Ah'll swear tae it oan rat wee dug's life. A'm right whit a say rerr, i'nta Jinky son?”
Wee Jinky geid 'um whit 'e hoped wis 'es best 'a hope you're right aboot rat big man, so a dae' an' luc't up tae see Tattie hud 'es sincere heid oan; 'e lerrit go et rat.
“W'ur getting' tae keep Wee Jinky,” says J J. “Ma Daddy soartit it oot wi' ri vet ri day, so 'e did.”
“'Zat right, doll? Rat's gallus, so it is, jeest gallus.”
“Tell 'um aboot ri kickba', hen,” says Tattie, quickly chingin' ri subject again, “tell 'um 'e jeest needs fur tae run ri line fur ri wan match noo.”
“Whit's gin oan here, wee hen?” says Owen, a wee bit a' surprise in 'es vice. “Huv they drapped ye fae ri squaad?”
“Better'n rat, uncul, a'm up tae oor Bonnie's team, so a'm urr.”
“Wull rat disnae surprise me ataw, hen.”
“How no'?”
“A shouldnae really tell ye ris bit a hud a wee word wi' ri Brodie fulla. Tel't 'um ye wis faur too guid furrat side ye wis in.”
“Noo who's et ri wind-up, oor Owen?” says J J. “Ye must 'hink a came up ri Clyde in a banana boat.”
“Jeest kiddin', wee hen. Rat's great news, so it is. Whair'r ye playin'?”
“Midfield, bit me an' oor Bonnie wis 'hinkin' we could mibbes switch it aboot an' confuse ri enemy.”
“'Hink yis mibbe better run rat by ri coach ur yis could en' up in trouble, eh?”
“Aye, mibbes we should et rat.”
“Right yous two,” says Tina, “say yur night night, it's gettin' late.”
“Bit Maw, thur's nae skill the morra.”
“D'yis waant fur me tae set oor Wee Jinky oan yis?” says Tattie.
“Come, girls,” says Kjerstin, who hid been valiantly tryin' tae keep up wi' ri coanversation, “we will go upstairs, yes?”
Ri weans done the roons e' ri company an' went up ri stairs withoot sae much is a whimper.
“Right, Tattie Zkowen,” says Tina, “let's hear aw aboot it.”
Tattie geid thum chapter an' verse oan ri goins oan et ri vet's. Owen wis aw smiles tae Tattie described ri junkie bastart. 'E done weel tae diguise whit wis runnin' through 'es heid whin Tattie wis done wi' ri tale.
Tina went tae pit ri kettle oan an Owen made 'es phone ring. Kjerstin wis comin' doon ri stairs an' Owen wis crackin' oan 'e hud a call.
“Right y'are, sergeant, ah'll be roon in five meenits, thanks fur that. Kin a git a len e' yir motor, oor Tattie? Sumb'dy's broke intae ma shope.”
Tina rootit aboot in 'ur haunbag an' fished oot ri keys. Tattie wis only allowed ri motor whin rey wis gaun oot fur ri day.
“Waant me tae come wi' ye, son?” 'e asked.
“Naw, naw. 'Sno' a problem. You stye here an' tell Kjerstin aw yur daft stories aboot me. She's right luckin' furrit tae rum, so she is. Ah'll be back in hauf an 'oor.”
Tattie walked 'es brurr oot tae ri motor. “A don't ken whit's gin oan, oor Owen, bit you be careful, y'hear?”
“Nae worries, Tattie, a wis learnt bey ri best, mind?”
Fae Tattie's description e' ri junkie bastart, Owen kent thur wid mibbes bey repercussions. Ri gadgie wis pairt e' a clan a' 'an eye fur an eye' scrotes fae up ri scheme, an' immediate action wis cawed fur.
It wis a ten meenit drive oot tae ri posh en' a' Stevenston an' Owen didnae phone aheid, didnae need tae. 'E rang ri bell an' made shair 'e wis square in front e' ri spy-hole. Ri spy-hole wis actually a camera, a camera Owen 'esel' hid install't. Ri buzzer went an' 'e let 'esel' in, carefully shuttin' ri door ahin' 'um. Stoorie Middan met 'um oan ri landin' a' ri furst set a' stairs.
“Ye must bey psychic, Mr Zkowen,” says Stoorie, haudin' ri haun oot fur ri howdydoos, “ye wurfurra wee phone in ri moarnin, so ye wurr.”
“'Zat right, Stoorie, ma man?” says Owen, returnin' ri haunshake waarmly, “ur ye efter ri new catalogue ren?”
“Aye birrit's no rat, son. Wan e' ma monitors is oan ri fritz an' a need ye tae huv a wee luckirrit fur me.”
“Nae borr, Stoorie, bit a need a wee favour fae ye.”
“Name it. Jeest name it an' it's done, ye ken rat, dain't ye?”
Owen telt ri tale, leein' Tattie's name oot e' it an' Stoorie listen't intently. Whin 'e wis done, Stoorie pick't up ri phone an' press't jeest ri wan nummer; speed dial.
“Jammer,” 'e says, “git roon' rerr tae ri McShafters' place, kick ri door in if ye huv tae an' tell rum ris. If rat wee vet hus ony foaly up borr fae ony e' rum, in fact, omb'dy tae dae wi' rat wee dug, ah'll pish in thur lemon juice an' stoap thur tap aw ri gither. Huv ye gote rat?.........Right, phone me back so's a ken ruv gote ri script oan rat, right.”
Stoorie owed Owen big time. Neethur 'e rum ever played oan it bit Stoorie wis furever sayin' 'e owed a debt thit could niver be repide. Jammer musta been handy 'cos Stoorie's phone rang nae mair'n five meenits later. “Good man,” says Stoorie doon ri phone, “take ri rest e' ri day aff.”
“Ah'll bey roon' furst 'hing tae huv a luk et rat monitor, Stoorie,” says Owen, “an' ah'll bring ye ri new catalogue while a'm et it.”
Tattie seen thit Owen wis brand new whin 'e gote back so 'e didnae push it. Kjerstin hud 'ur feet right unner ri Zkowen table an' omb'dy wi' eyes could see rurr wis a loat a' love aboot ri hoose.
Tattie couldnae get Owen oan 'es ain tae funoot whit ri score wis bit fae ri boye's behaviour 'e sensed rurr wis nuhin' tae worry aboot; it wid keep. 'E hud ri best night's kip 'ed hud aw week an' wis up jeest afore ri alarm. 'E ay walked tae work an' back, it usually endit up is quicker thin takin' ri bus. 'E generally only acceptit a lift if it wis pishin doon ur 'e wis runnin' late fur sum reason bit 'e flagged Hershey Barr doon an' asked 'um tae swing by Owen's shope; it wisnae faur.
Nae sign e' a brek-in an' thon wee nigglin' worry crept back intae 'es mind; it styed thair tae ri hooter went fur offski.
Five past two an' Tattie wis in Owen's shope bit Owen wisnae rerr. “'Es been back an' furrit tae Stoorie Middan's place aw moarnin', Tattie,” says young Kyle, Owen's apprentice, dugsbody, gopher fulla, “sumhin' aboot a dodgy monitor.”
“Aw right, Kyle son,” says Tattie, “a jeest jooked in tae take 'um acroas ri road fur a jaur birral catch 'um again.”
“Nae borr. Here, rat's great aboot your wee J J skippin' up through the ranks, eh? Tell 'ur ah'll be comin' tae watch 'ur ri morra. Better tell ri pair e' rum, eh?”
“Yur learnin' son. See ye ri morra.”
Tattie hid it worked oot bey ri time 'e gote hame. 'E hid luc't efter thair Owen sin' they wis weans an' noo Owen wis luckin' efter him.
Ri hoose wis empty. Kjerstin hid made ri oafur tae mind ri weans, sumhin' rey wid a rebelled against if it'd been onyb'dy else bit rey liked Kjerstin jeest fine. Tattie 'n' Tina hid experementit wi' lee'in' rum tae thur ain devices last year tae Tina feenished 'ur work fur ri summer, bit even wi' ri skill feenishin' rat bit later ris year, she wis still ahin' wi' 'ur 'oors because ri kickba' runnin' late tae hid forced 'ur tae take mair time aff. Tattie struggl't tae chinge 'es shifts, so it wis doon tae hur.
Tattie wint doon tae ri park an' seen they wur comin' aff an' heedin' fur hame. 'E hid in ri bushes wi ri intention a' jumpin' oot oan thum bit afore rey reached 'um a polis pul't 'um up.
“'Siscore wi' you, pal?” 'e says. “Yir up tae nae guid lurkin' aboot in rerr. Gerroot whair a kin git a swatch et ye.”
“Jeest huvin' a laugh wi' ma weans, Jim,” says Tattie is Wee Jinky gote a whiff e' 'um an came harearsin' ower, “see, risis ma wee dug bit yir right whit ye say, disnae luk too clever a grown man hidin' in ri bushes. Yir dain' a great joab thair oafficer an' a appreciate rat.”
“Nae borr, sur,” says ri polis is ri weans made a fuss a' Tattie, “rat's whit wur here fur.”
Owen cawed roon' fur Kjerstin aboot eight a'cloak bir 'e didnae come in ri hoose, ri wur in a hurry tae bey sumwhairs else; so 'e says.
J J wis wunnerin' could she no' play in baith gemmes bit r'urr three talked 'ur oot e' ri idea. It widnae luk too guid if she storred in ri furst gemme 'n' wis too knacker't tae dae a guid joab in ri bigger gemme.
Ri hale hoose wis up et ri crack a' dawn, aw except fur Tina who wis getting' treatit tae breakfast in bed, courtesy a' ri weans. Tattie an Wee Jinky went fur rolls an' a paper bit cairied oan doon ri toon tae ri wool shope; Aggie, ri murr-in-law, hid telt 'um whit she needit fur 'es new cardie an' ri only decision 'e hud tae make wis whit colour e' waantit. Ri pink wis too light fur workin' unner motors 'n' paintin' 'n' rat, so 'e went furra a nice dork green.
Owen left it tae ri last meenit tae pick Tina an' ri weans up. Tattie an' Wee Jinky wis doon et ri station tae pick up Aggie bit ri weans hud tae bey rerr rat wee bittie early fur ri team talk. Rey wur gonnae need ri two cors onywye, whit wi' Kjerstin bein' ri Zkowen weans' nummer wan fan.
Owen wis stickin' close tae Tina lit they'd jeest gote mairit an' Tattie kent fine whye rat wis. Ri 'hing aboot Tattie is, 'es offay patient. Styin' in a hoose wi' three weemin' learns ye patience, otherwise ye wid en' up gin aff yur nut; Tattie could wait.
Ri furst gemme wis weel intae ri second hauf bey ri time rey gote rerr an' Tattie walked Wee Jinky doon tae ri touchline tae see how 'e behaved. Ri wee dug stood et 'es heel an' watched ri gemme, which meant 'e widnae bey confined tae ri cor whin ri weans wis playin'. 'E only went fur ri baw wance't whin it wint oot a' play near whair they wur staunin' bit 'e geid it back whin Tattie telt 'umtae.
Wee Jeanie Jameson says hullo tae rum whin sumb'dy wis doon injur't an' says she wid bey styin' tae watch J J; rey wur big pals, rem two.
R'unner therteens won wi' a late penalty an' made a helluva noise oan thur wye tae ri chingin' en'. Ri visitin' team wis aw roon' ri ref an' moanin' aboot ri lack a' injury time. Tattie heard 'ur tellin' rum tae pit it in writin'.
R'unner fourteens came oot fur ri waarm-up an' Wee Jinky let rum ken 'e wis rerr. Guid wee dug thit 'e is, 'e didnae go oantae ri field.
Efter ri streetches an' ri waarm-up, ri weans came ower tae whair ri wur aw gether't.
“A'm awfy nervous, Daddy,” says J J.
“Ye should bey lit me, wee hen,” says Tattie, “a'm cool is a cucumber me, so am urr.”
“Rat's 'cos yur sittin' oan ri Eskimo, Daddy,” says Bonnie, “rat's wur hauf time drinks so it is.”
“'Hink mibbe rur's a rid tin in rerr fur yur aul' faither, hen?”
“A widnae 'hink sa, naw, Daddy,” says J J, afore jinin' 'ur team-mates fur ri pre-match huddle.
Thur wis a guid crowd oan, an' rightly so fur it wis a big gemme. Tattie stood wi' Aggie, Wee Jinky et 'es heel. Tina stood et r'urr side e' ur maw an' ren it wis Kjerstin an' Owen. Ri furst hauf wis scrappy an' nane a' ri two weans seen much a' ri baw, bit rey wis haudin' r'urr ain. Wee Jinky wint ower tae rum et hauf time tae gie rum sum advice bit ri referee chased 'um. She says it wis 'cos ri wee fulla hud Bonnie's skill tie wrapped roon' 'es neck. J J brung 'um ower tae ri touchline an' says, “Whit d'ye 'hink, Daddy? We cannae seem tae brek rum doon ataw.”
“Whit did Brodie say tae yis?”
“Jeest tae keep et it.”
“Wull here, listin tae me, wee hen. Puush up anurr five yerds, yer big 'keeper's keepin' yis in ri gemme bit if yis puush up an' haud yir line it'll be hard fur thum tae git bye yis. An' anurr 'hing, tell wee Rosie ri nixt tum yis git a free kick an' she waants tae shoot tae scud it alang ri flair, a daisy cutter, ye ken? Ah've noticed r'urr wa' aw jump up whin she skelps ri ba'. Mibbes catch thur 'keeper sleepin'”
Bonnie wis rerr tae an' she wis noadin' 'ur heid tae say 'ur aul' man wis talkin' a loat a' sense. “Daddy,” she says, “'ur's a big man awrerr tellin' 'es lassie tae chope ri legs fae oor J J ev'ry tum she bates 'ur.”
“'Zat right, hen? Jeest you coancentrate oan yir gemme an' ignore 'um.”
Whin ri second hauf kicked aff, Tattie cote Owen's eye an' indicatit 'e should folay 'um. Is rey walked roon' ri back e' ri crowd, Tattie pul't Owen aboot Stoorie Middan an' seem't happy wi' 'es brurr's explanation.
Pish Staines wis ahin' ri fat gadgie whin ri two brurrs arrived. Sumb'dy hid telt 'um ri same tale an', bein' a mate a' Tattie an' Owen's, 'ed decidit tae deal wi' ri mater 'esel'.
“Here, big man,” 'e says, “keep ri heid an' ah'll buy ye a bunnet.”
“Who're you talkin' tae, ya fuckin' choob?”
“You, ya fat get. Rese wee lassies is tryin' tae play kickba' an' you're shoutin ri bit doon. Jeest gie it a bye, wull ye?”
“Rat's ma wee lassie rerr oan ri wing, Jim, an' ah'll gie 'ur advice if a waant tae. Noo, fuck aff oot ma road......KILL 'UR, SADIE, CHOPE RI FUCKIN' LEGS FAE 'UR, A TELT YE.”
J J skin't Sadie easy an' ping't a beauty e' a pass tae ri oappisite wing. Pish wis peelin' 'es jaikit aff.
Owen tapped 'um oan ri shooder an' led 'um awa' fae danger.
“YAIS YIR ELBAS LIT A TELT YE, OOR SADIE, GET YIRSEL' SUM ROOM. RAT WEE RAG SHOULDNAE BEY BATIN' YE TAE RI BA' AW RI TIME.”
“Gie yur wee lassie ony mair advice lit rat, Jim, an' you're claim't,” says Tattie evenly.
“Who ri fuckur yoo, pal?”
“A'm ri faither a' rat wee lassie yur tellin' yur lassie tae kick ri fuck oot a'.”
“'Sonly a gemme, pal. Kin ye no' git yur fuckin' heid roon' rat? 'Sonly a fuckin' gemme.”
“Tell ye whit, Jim. Ony wan a' ma two lassies comes aff rat pitch wi' sae much is a bruise fae your lassie an' a'm gonnae rip yur fuckin' heid aff an' shite doon yur neck. You catchin' ma drift, ya fat bastar't?”
Ri fat bastart luc't Tattie up an' doon an' turn't a funny puce colour. 'E wis quite obviously shitin' 'esel'.
“Mibbe ye'd better jeest fuck oaf ower tae yur motor, Jim, an' huv a wee lie doon. 'Cos if a hear anurr peep oot e' ye a'm gonnae go tae toon oan ye. Whit d'ye 'hink?”
Ri gadgie shuffl't oaf jeest is ri wee Geography teacher paddi't ower. “Is there a problem, Mr Zkowen?” she says. “Only ai've been asked to haiv anurr word with yon gentleman aboot his language.” She wis awfy weel spoken.
“Nae borr, Miss Swirl, ur ye enjoyin' ri kickba'?” asked Tattie.
“You know,” says Miss Swirl, “thet man his been causing trouble all year et the kickba' games. The referee his hed words with him on more than one occasion.”
“Mibbe ye could write a wee report aboot 'um ren. A mean, rurr's nae reason tae bey yaisin' rat kin' a language in front e' ri weans, is rurr?”
“I agree wholeheartedly, Mr Zkowen. Enjoy the rest of the game, won't you? By the way, I like your wee dug, he's a beauty.”
“Whair's ma faither?” says Sadie durin' a lull in ri play.
“A 'hink 'es huvin' a wee lie doon,” says Tattie.
“'Hank Goad fur rat,” says Sadie. “'E dis ma heid right in, so 'e dis.”
“Enjoy ri rest e' yur gemme, hen,” says Tattie, “jeest try yur best.”
Ri free kick wis awardit jeest is Tattie an' Owen rejine't thur company. It hid nuhin' tae dae wi' Sadie. Bonnie wis huvin' a wurd wi' ri big centre hauf an J J wis backin' 'ur up. Rey hid been bang oan aboot movin' up a few yerds sae ra big burd wis gein' rum 'ur best attention. Even Wee Jinky wis haudin' 'es braith whin she taen a guid run et ri ba'. Ri defensive wa' jumped ri gither an' she sent ri daisy cutter unner rum. Ri 'keeper seen it late an' gote a haun tae it birrit fun ri back e' ri net aff ri post an' aff ri back e' 'ur heid an' ri grun eruptit. Wee Jinky wint apeshit; ri wee man appreciates a guid goal is much is ri nixt dug.
Ri oappisition hud a late penalty claim dismiss't whin Sadie held 'ur hauns up an' says she fell ower 'ur ain feet. A fair sportin' wee lassie. Hur's wis ri furst haun Tattie shook afore e's weans dived oan 'um.
Owen grabbed a haud e' ri Herald's photographer an' made sure e' gote a few snaps a' Wee Jinky sportin' e's colours; ri gadgie wis weel up fur it.
Ri weans wint aff tae git chinged 'n' rat 'n' Wee Jinky showed aff e's skills wi' ri kickba'. Ri gadgie fae ri Herald yaised up anurr spool oan 'um. 'E shin turn't 'es attention tae wee Jinty is she peel't aw 'ur gear aff fur a streak.......braw.
“Here, Daddy,” says Bonnie whin they'd hud thur showers an' rat, “did ye see ony a' rem scouts ye says wis comin'?”
“Awwww. Ma pare wee lassie. A'm gonnae huv tae take ye tae ri oapticians oan Monday,” says Tattie.
“Whit dae ye mean, Daddy?”
Tattie pintit tewards ri adjinin' fields tae ri hunners a' tents set up fur ri big summer Jamboree, an' ri hunners a' scouts an' guides an rangers millin' aboot ri place an' shrugged e's shooders. “Whit in ri name e' ri wee man wid ye caw aw rem mob ower rerr, ma wee hen?”
Ev'rub'dy pished thursels laughin' and Wee Jinky barked ri bit doon; 'e likes a guid laugh, so 'e dis. Kjerstin taen a guid swatch acroas ri field an' says, “A wunner if ony e' rum's Swedish?” She wis fair pickin' up oan ri lingo.
Swearwords: A lot of strong ones.
Description: If ye wur ever curious is tae how ri wee dug git oan, here it is in white ‘n’ white.
_____________________________________________________________________
As fights go, it wisnae much tae write hame aboot. Two punches wis flung, wan missed an' wan connectit.
Ri three days hid been ri longest ony e' ri Zkowens could ever remember an' naeb'dy argued whin Bonnie says it hid been mair lit a foartnight. Evrub'dy wis oan peens aboot whithur ur no' they wur gonnae get tae keep ri wee dug; Wee Jinky, is e' hid recently been kent is. Luckily fur Tattie, 'e hid missed the maist e' it wi' bein' oan ri back-shift bit Tina's reports whin e' gote hame, likenin' ri hoose tae Bedlam, hud 'um 'hinkin' World War ri next yin hud broke oot.
Thursday wis ri chinge a' shift an' rat pit 'um oan earlies; it wis also ri last day et skill fur ri weans.
Tattie wis up early. 'E wis is up tae high doh is evrub'dy aboot Wee Jinky's fate bit e' couldnae let the rest e' rum see rat; sumb'dy hud tae keep ri heid. 'E taen ri wee dug doon tae ri park an' telt 'um 'hings wis luckin' guid bit ri wee fulla could sense e' wis mibbe et ri kiddin' oan; 'e couldnae really blame 'um.
Tattie wis gled tae git ri shift ower an' by wi. R'urr guys et ri work hid noticed 'e wisnae et 'esel', hudnae been furra coupla days bit nane e' rum wis ower keen tae approach 'um aboot it.
'E taen ri wee dug oot again is shin is 'e gote in fae work ren set aboot preppin' ri dinner. 'E pit ri wireless oan bit shin gote scunner't wi' ri presenter's antics. “S'posed tae be a music show,” 'e says tae ri wee dug, “fuckin' talk show so it is, magazine show rat's whirrit is. Rese gadgies urnae happy wi' jeest yackin' atween ri songs, aw naw, ruv gote tae yak aw ower ri intro tae. Mibbes a wee bit a' George Thorogood an' ri Destroyers'll cheer us up wee man, whit d'ye 'hink eh?”
Tattie only gote is faur is switchin' ri wireless aff whin ri phone went. 'E luc't et ri wee dug an' ri wee dug let oot a sigh tae let 'um ken 'e wis 'hinkin ri same 'hing; an' rightly so is it turn't oot. It wis Morven, ri wummin vet, “Ye gote a pen handy rerr, Tattie?” Thur wis nae howdydoos ur nuhun' an' Tattie fear't ri worst. “Take rese names doon an' try rum oot oan yur wee dug an' check 'es response. 'Uv ye still gote 'um?”
“Aye,” says Tattie, “fire away, Morven hen.”
“Right y'are, Javeed left me a wee note, ye ready? Snowy......Toby.......Buster......an' Spoat. Y'uv tae try thame an' phone us back, right?”
“Spoat?” says Tattie, “ri wee guy's pure white so 'e is. Awright, Morven, a'm oan it, so a'm ur. U'll gie ye a wee phone back.
'E tried 'um wi' Spoat furst bit thur wis nae reaction, ri same wi' Toby an' Snowy bit whin e' cawed ri wee fulla Buster thur wis. Tattie hud niver heard ri wee dug growlin' in ri three ur four days 'ed been styin' wi rum an 'es blood ran caul' tae hear it. 'E geid it Buster wance ur twice again an' kent 'e wis likely tae huv tae gei 'um up. 'E wis scunner't tae fuck.
Nae pint in pirrin' it aff. 'E phoned Morven an' gote Jinty, ri receptionist. “Q 'n' A Vets,” she says in 'ur best receptionist vice, “how may we help yous?”
“Jinty, it's me, Tattie. Pit Morven oan wull ye, hen?”
“A kin hear it in yur voice, Tattie.....whit wan wis it?”
“Buster.” Ri wee dug grumul't again an' went tae 'es bed in ri coarner. “D'ye ken who 'e belangs tae, hen? Whit ur they like, eh?”
“Furst impressions....a 'hink 'es a right junkie bastar't bit wi' cannae say nuhun' if it's his wee dug. Here's Morven.”
Efter Tattie hud explained ri wee dug's reaction, Morven gote back tae 'um an' tel't 'um tae go roon' et hauf fower an' tae bring ri wee dug wi' 'um.
'E thote mibbe 'e wid bump intae ri weans, then remember't they wur gin doon the toon wi' thur pals tae celebrate brekkin' up fur the hoalidays. 'E wis relieved et that.
Ris guy wint doon tae 'es knees an' slapped 'es thighs fur ri wee dug tae go tae 'um bit ri wee dug stide whair 'e wis et Tattie's heel. 'E hudnae waantit tae go through ri door bit dunnit 'cos Tattie asked 'um; bit noo 'e wis growlin' low an' menacin'.
“Wee fulla disnae waant tae ken ye, pal,” says Tattie, “ur 'e widda been ower tae ye bey noo.”
“'Sma dug, ya fuckin' poof ye. You kin jeest stye oot e' it.”
Morven intervened et rat is Tattie bunched 'es fists. “Looks tae me is ri wee fulla's shite feart e' ye, Mr Ball. As a Veterinarian a'm 'hinkin' mibbe ye don't treat 'um right, sae whit a'm gonnae dae is phone ri R.S.P.C.A. so's they kin assess yur interaction an' yur behaviour tewards 'um.”
“A tel't ye rat's ma dug, ya fuckin' fanny. A waant ri polis here aboot ris an' a waant rum NOO.”
Jinty wis already oan ri' case an' thur must a been a patrol cor roon aboot 'cos it wisnae two meenits tae a polis wummin' breenjed through ri door lit thur'd been a murdur. Ri junkie wis screamin' ri bit doon, ri wee dug wis staunin' tae Tattie's heel an' Morven wis wavin' a tranquiliser needle; ur so she says.
Ri polis shut ri junkie up, she kent 'um weel an' suggestit mibbe 'e wis cairyin' an' rat's whit quaitin't 'um doon. Anurr polis jine't thum an' he kent ri junkie tae. Ri big polis listen't tae ri tale ren suggestit ri litmus test an' Tattie wis happy tae go alang wi' it; ri junkie tae whin 'e fun oot 'e wis gonnae get huckle't if 'e didnae.
Tattie an' ri junkie wis tae staun oot ri back against ri faur wa' an' see who ri wee dug went tae whin cawed. Morven hud 'um in 'ur airms.
Ri wee dug didnae move whin Morven pit 'um doon. Ri junkie wis gein' it aw ri 'c'moan sons' an' 'c'moan Busters' bit e' stood wi' Morven. Whin Tattie says 'heel', ri wee fulla done it straight aff lit 'e wis oan a string.
“Ya bastartin' poof, ye,” says ri junkie, “at's ma fuckin' dug, so it is.” 'E flung a punch et Tattie bit 'e telegraphed it an' Tattie geid 'um a sair face is a reflex reaction. 'E'd been handy et ri boxin' whin 'e wis et ri skill bit 'e geid it up whin 'e punched 'es best pal oot the ring an' pit 'um in ri hoaspital. 'E hud niver really liked punchin' folk bit thur wis a wee smile a' satisfaction oan 'es coupon is e' popped ris yin wan. Whin ri junkie wint doon ri wee dug fancied a bit e' 'um tae bit Tattie brote 'um tae heel.
Ri polis howked ri junkie oot ri place wi' 'es airms up 'es back; rey even asked Tattie did 'e waant tae press assault charges; baith verbal an' physical. A mean, a fulla in a pink vest isnae necessarily a poof, is 'e?
“Book 'um in fur 'es jabs an' tae get chipped,” says Morven tae Jinty, “an' howk thon photie oot ri windae wull ye please?”
Naeb'dy wis talkin' tae naeb'dy whin Tattie an' ri wee fulla gote hame. Bonnie wis strummin' 'ur guitar, J J hud 'ur nib in a book an' Tina wis fillin' ri waasher. Tattie didnae let oan whit hid happen't an' 'e telt wee Jinky tae dae ri same whin 'e let 'um oot ri back.
“Daddy,” says J J, “mind ye says ye wid try an' buy Wee Jinky aff who 'e balangs tae if rey turn't up?”
“A says rat, wee hen. Aye, a mind sayin' rat, right enough.”
“Ha much wid ye pey furrum?”
“Aw ma money, hen, an' if a kin fun yur Mammy's purse ren aw hur money tae. In fact, a wid help masel' tae yours an' Bonnie's cash tae 'cos a ken yisuv git hunners stashed awa' fur a rainy day. Bit, whit makes ye ask?”
“D'ye 'hink oor Owen'll chuck in wi' ye tae, Daddy?”
“If 'e didnae 'ed be scratched right aff ri Christmas caird list. A kin tell ye rat fur nuhin'.
Tina kent sumhin' hid happen't bit kep it tae 'ursel', wummin's intuition. “Tell yur faither whit's happenin' wi' ri kickba',” she says tae J J.
“A'm in ri unner fourteens oan Seturday, so am ur, Daddy. Mr Brodie howked me oot e' ri assembly tae tell me ris moarnin'. Me an' hur ower 'err's gonnae be in ri same team.”
“Hur ower 'err, eh? Is rat ony wye tae talk aboot yur big sister. A thote thur wis a bit e' an atmosphere roon this wye. Whit ri hell's gin oan wi' yis?
“Wur aw upset aboot Wee Jinky,” says Bonnie. “Aw wur tempurs is gettin' aw frayed tae bits wi' it.”
“Did a no' tell yis a wid soart it? Huv yis nae faith in yur aul' faithur ataw?”
“C'moan an' get yur dinnurs,” says Tina, eyein' up Tattie suspiciously. “It disnae dae nane e' us ony guid bein' et each others throats lit ris, dis it Tattie?”
“A cannae argue wi' ye rerr, Tina doll. Wull sumb'dy pass me ri breed?”
Efter thur tea, ri weans set aboot thur summer projects, even 'though they hud near seevin weeks tae dae it. J J broke ri silence. “How is it Wee Jinky sticks tae you aw ri time Daddy? A mean, 'e comes tae us whin yur no' here bit whin yur in 'es never far awa' fae ye. W'uv a' noticed it, huvint wi oor Bonnie?”
Bonnie jeest gruntit in response; she wisnae sure if she wis talkin' tae ur sister yit ur no'.
“A'v noticed rat tae,” says Tina, sensin' an opportunity tae get rum aw oan ri same page. “Whye wid ye say rat wis, Tattie?”
“Weel, “ says Tattie, clappin' ri wee fulla's heid fur effect, “ri wee man kens who feeds 'um, who walks 'um, who brushes 'um, who chats tae 'um an who plays wi' 'um.”
“Bit....bit......bit we dae aw rat tae, Daddy,” wailed J J. “Dain't wi oor Bonnie...dain't wi?”
Bonnie smelt a rat bit she couldnae work it oot, so she says nuhin'; bit she wis obviously curious is tae whit Tattie wid come oot wi'.
“Dain't wi, Mammy?” pleadit J J. “We luk eftur 'um, dain't wi........?”
“...........Exactly ma pint,” interruptit Tattie, “ 'at's exactly whit a'm tryin' tae get acroas tae yis. Ri wee fulla disnae like aw rat fussin' an' stuff, so rat's whye 'e hings aboot wi' me, fur sum peace an quait.”
Tina wis in ri sink dain' ri dishes, 'ur shooders wis judderin' up an' doon an' Tattie couldnae tell wis she laughin' ur greetin'; proably baith. The weans gote it whin she turn't roon' tae face rum an they a' stertit laughin' ri gither. Wee Jinky barked ri bit doon, ri wee man likes a guid laugh, so 'e dis.
“A'v jeest been tae see Morven,” says Tattie, silencin' the kitchen tae whair it wis a vacuum. “Ri fulla rit Jinky balang't tae couldnae luk eftur 'um, sae we gote furst dibs oan 'um.”
Thur wis tears an' aw Tattie's weemin wis huggin' an' kissin' each urr tae bits. Ri wee dug wis a wee bit bemused bey it aw an parked 'esel' unner Tattie's chair tae it aw died doon a bit.
“Whye did ye no' tell us earlier, Daddy?” says Bonnie.
“A didnae waant tae get atween oor J J an' 'ur dinner. Huv ye seen 'ur eatin' lately? A'm gonnae huv tae get anurr joab if she keeps gaun' et it lit rat.”
“Kin ye no' bey serious fur wance't, Daddy? We wis aw oan peens an' rerr wis you wi' rat wee nugget unner yer bunnet.”
“A couldnae get a wurd in, ma wee lamb, bit yis ken noo an' evrub'dy's back tae playin' happy families again. Is rat no' braw, eh?”
“Jeest talk is through whit Morven says wurd fur wurd, wull ye?” says J J. “A waant tae bey shair yuv gote it right, is aw.”
“Whit's ris aboot ri kickba' ye wur tellin' us, wee hen?” says Tattie, neatly chingin' ri subject. “Yir in ri unner fourteens, 'zat right?”
J J picked it up an' ran wi' it. Tellin' how she wis tae take oan an important midfield role an' how ri opposition widnae huv a scooby is tae how guid a player she wis an' how she wis right luckin' furrit tae playin' alangside 'ur big sister. Bonnie gote 'ursel aw enthusiastic aboot it tae ren an' ri hoose taen oan a semblance a' normality.
Tattie wis readin' ri Herald an' Wee Jinky wis kippin' et 'es feet whin Owen an' Kjerstin drapped by. Wee Jinky taen a wee sniff et rum an' wint back tae whit 'e wis dain'. Ri weans wis oan Owen an' Kjerstin lit limpets, they hud news, the kinna news thit couldnae wait; evrub'dy wis talkin' et wance't.
“A don't waant ris tae go tae yur heids,” Tattie says tae ri weans whin ri hubbub hid died doon a wee bit, “bit rurr's gonnae be scouts et riss kickba' gemme. 'Et baith gemmes really bit a 'hink espeshly et ri unner fourteens.”
Rat shut ri weans up fur a second ur two. It wis Tina rit fun 'ur vice furst. “Whair did ye get rat fae, Tattie?”
“'Saw ower ri toon bey noo,” says Tattie. “A'm awfy surprised nane e' yis 'uv heard aboot it.”
“Scoatland scouts?” says Bonnie.
“Scoatland, Europe an' mibbes fae aw ower ri world,” says Tattie wi' quite an air a' authority.
“Ur you et wan e' yur wind-ups, oor Tattie?” says Owen.
“Ah'll swear tae it oan rat wee dug's life. A'm right whit a say rerr, i'nta Jinky son?”
Wee Jinky geid 'um whit 'e hoped wis 'es best 'a hope you're right aboot rat big man, so a dae' an' luc't up tae see Tattie hud 'es sincere heid oan; 'e lerrit go et rat.
“W'ur getting' tae keep Wee Jinky,” says J J. “Ma Daddy soartit it oot wi' ri vet ri day, so 'e did.”
“'Zat right, doll? Rat's gallus, so it is, jeest gallus.”
“Tell 'um aboot ri kickba', hen,” says Tattie, quickly chingin' ri subject again, “tell 'um 'e jeest needs fur tae run ri line fur ri wan match noo.”
“Whit's gin oan here, wee hen?” says Owen, a wee bit a' surprise in 'es vice. “Huv they drapped ye fae ri squaad?”
“Better'n rat, uncul, a'm up tae oor Bonnie's team, so a'm urr.”
“Wull rat disnae surprise me ataw, hen.”
“How no'?”
“A shouldnae really tell ye ris bit a hud a wee word wi' ri Brodie fulla. Tel't 'um ye wis faur too guid furrat side ye wis in.”
“Noo who's et ri wind-up, oor Owen?” says J J. “Ye must 'hink a came up ri Clyde in a banana boat.”
“Jeest kiddin', wee hen. Rat's great news, so it is. Whair'r ye playin'?”
“Midfield, bit me an' oor Bonnie wis 'hinkin' we could mibbes switch it aboot an' confuse ri enemy.”
“'Hink yis mibbe better run rat by ri coach ur yis could en' up in trouble, eh?”
“Aye, mibbes we should et rat.”
“Right yous two,” says Tina, “say yur night night, it's gettin' late.”
“Bit Maw, thur's nae skill the morra.”
“D'yis waant fur me tae set oor Wee Jinky oan yis?” says Tattie.
“Come, girls,” says Kjerstin, who hid been valiantly tryin' tae keep up wi' ri coanversation, “we will go upstairs, yes?”
Ri weans done the roons e' ri company an' went up ri stairs withoot sae much is a whimper.
“Right, Tattie Zkowen,” says Tina, “let's hear aw aboot it.”
Tattie geid thum chapter an' verse oan ri goins oan et ri vet's. Owen wis aw smiles tae Tattie described ri junkie bastart. 'E done weel tae diguise whit wis runnin' through 'es heid whin Tattie wis done wi' ri tale.
Tina went tae pit ri kettle oan an Owen made 'es phone ring. Kjerstin wis comin' doon ri stairs an' Owen wis crackin' oan 'e hud a call.
“Right y'are, sergeant, ah'll be roon in five meenits, thanks fur that. Kin a git a len e' yir motor, oor Tattie? Sumb'dy's broke intae ma shope.”
Tina rootit aboot in 'ur haunbag an' fished oot ri keys. Tattie wis only allowed ri motor whin rey wis gaun oot fur ri day.
“Waant me tae come wi' ye, son?” 'e asked.
“Naw, naw. 'Sno' a problem. You stye here an' tell Kjerstin aw yur daft stories aboot me. She's right luckin' furrit tae rum, so she is. Ah'll be back in hauf an 'oor.”
Tattie walked 'es brurr oot tae ri motor. “A don't ken whit's gin oan, oor Owen, bit you be careful, y'hear?”
“Nae worries, Tattie, a wis learnt bey ri best, mind?”
Fae Tattie's description e' ri junkie bastart, Owen kent thur wid mibbes bey repercussions. Ri gadgie wis pairt e' a clan a' 'an eye fur an eye' scrotes fae up ri scheme, an' immediate action wis cawed fur.
It wis a ten meenit drive oot tae ri posh en' a' Stevenston an' Owen didnae phone aheid, didnae need tae. 'E rang ri bell an' made shair 'e wis square in front e' ri spy-hole. Ri spy-hole wis actually a camera, a camera Owen 'esel' hid install't. Ri buzzer went an' 'e let 'esel' in, carefully shuttin' ri door ahin' 'um. Stoorie Middan met 'um oan ri landin' a' ri furst set a' stairs.
“Ye must bey psychic, Mr Zkowen,” says Stoorie, haudin' ri haun oot fur ri howdydoos, “ye wurfurra wee phone in ri moarnin, so ye wurr.”
“'Zat right, Stoorie, ma man?” says Owen, returnin' ri haunshake waarmly, “ur ye efter ri new catalogue ren?”
“Aye birrit's no rat, son. Wan e' ma monitors is oan ri fritz an' a need ye tae huv a wee luckirrit fur me.”
“Nae borr, Stoorie, bit a need a wee favour fae ye.”
“Name it. Jeest name it an' it's done, ye ken rat, dain't ye?”
Owen telt ri tale, leein' Tattie's name oot e' it an' Stoorie listen't intently. Whin 'e wis done, Stoorie pick't up ri phone an' press't jeest ri wan nummer; speed dial.
“Jammer,” 'e says, “git roon' rerr tae ri McShafters' place, kick ri door in if ye huv tae an' tell rum ris. If rat wee vet hus ony foaly up borr fae ony e' rum, in fact, omb'dy tae dae wi' rat wee dug, ah'll pish in thur lemon juice an' stoap thur tap aw ri gither. Huv ye gote rat?.........Right, phone me back so's a ken ruv gote ri script oan rat, right.”
Stoorie owed Owen big time. Neethur 'e rum ever played oan it bit Stoorie wis furever sayin' 'e owed a debt thit could niver be repide. Jammer musta been handy 'cos Stoorie's phone rang nae mair'n five meenits later. “Good man,” says Stoorie doon ri phone, “take ri rest e' ri day aff.”
“Ah'll bey roon' furst 'hing tae huv a luk et rat monitor, Stoorie,” says Owen, “an' ah'll bring ye ri new catalogue while a'm et it.”
Tattie seen thit Owen wis brand new whin 'e gote back so 'e didnae push it. Kjerstin hud 'ur feet right unner ri Zkowen table an' omb'dy wi' eyes could see rurr wis a loat a' love aboot ri hoose.
Tattie couldnae get Owen oan 'es ain tae funoot whit ri score wis bit fae ri boye's behaviour 'e sensed rurr wis nuhin' tae worry aboot; it wid keep. 'E hud ri best night's kip 'ed hud aw week an' wis up jeest afore ri alarm. 'E ay walked tae work an' back, it usually endit up is quicker thin takin' ri bus. 'E generally only acceptit a lift if it wis pishin doon ur 'e wis runnin' late fur sum reason bit 'e flagged Hershey Barr doon an' asked 'um tae swing by Owen's shope; it wisnae faur.
Nae sign e' a brek-in an' thon wee nigglin' worry crept back intae 'es mind; it styed thair tae ri hooter went fur offski.
Five past two an' Tattie wis in Owen's shope bit Owen wisnae rerr. “'Es been back an' furrit tae Stoorie Middan's place aw moarnin', Tattie,” says young Kyle, Owen's apprentice, dugsbody, gopher fulla, “sumhin' aboot a dodgy monitor.”
“Aw right, Kyle son,” says Tattie, “a jeest jooked in tae take 'um acroas ri road fur a jaur birral catch 'um again.”
“Nae borr. Here, rat's great aboot your wee J J skippin' up through the ranks, eh? Tell 'ur ah'll be comin' tae watch 'ur ri morra. Better tell ri pair e' rum, eh?”
“Yur learnin' son. See ye ri morra.”
Tattie hid it worked oot bey ri time 'e gote hame. 'E hid luc't efter thair Owen sin' they wis weans an' noo Owen wis luckin' efter him.
Ri hoose wis empty. Kjerstin hid made ri oafur tae mind ri weans, sumhin' rey wid a rebelled against if it'd been onyb'dy else bit rey liked Kjerstin jeest fine. Tattie 'n' Tina hid experementit wi' lee'in' rum tae thur ain devices last year tae Tina feenished 'ur work fur ri summer, bit even wi' ri skill feenishin' rat bit later ris year, she wis still ahin' wi' 'ur 'oors because ri kickba' runnin' late tae hid forced 'ur tae take mair time aff. Tattie struggl't tae chinge 'es shifts, so it wis doon tae hur.
Tattie wint doon tae ri park an' seen they wur comin' aff an' heedin' fur hame. 'E hid in ri bushes wi ri intention a' jumpin' oot oan thum bit afore rey reached 'um a polis pul't 'um up.
“'Siscore wi' you, pal?” 'e says. “Yir up tae nae guid lurkin' aboot in rerr. Gerroot whair a kin git a swatch et ye.”
“Jeest huvin' a laugh wi' ma weans, Jim,” says Tattie is Wee Jinky gote a whiff e' 'um an came harearsin' ower, “see, risis ma wee dug bit yir right whit ye say, disnae luk too clever a grown man hidin' in ri bushes. Yir dain' a great joab thair oafficer an' a appreciate rat.”
“Nae borr, sur,” says ri polis is ri weans made a fuss a' Tattie, “rat's whit wur here fur.”
Owen cawed roon' fur Kjerstin aboot eight a'cloak bir 'e didnae come in ri hoose, ri wur in a hurry tae bey sumwhairs else; so 'e says.
J J wis wunnerin' could she no' play in baith gemmes bit r'urr three talked 'ur oot e' ri idea. It widnae luk too guid if she storred in ri furst gemme 'n' wis too knacker't tae dae a guid joab in ri bigger gemme.
Ri hale hoose wis up et ri crack a' dawn, aw except fur Tina who wis getting' treatit tae breakfast in bed, courtesy a' ri weans. Tattie an Wee Jinky went fur rolls an' a paper bit cairied oan doon ri toon tae ri wool shope; Aggie, ri murr-in-law, hid telt 'um whit she needit fur 'es new cardie an' ri only decision 'e hud tae make wis whit colour e' waantit. Ri pink wis too light fur workin' unner motors 'n' paintin' 'n' rat, so 'e went furra a nice dork green.
Owen left it tae ri last meenit tae pick Tina an' ri weans up. Tattie an' Wee Jinky wis doon et ri station tae pick up Aggie bit ri weans hud tae bey rerr rat wee bittie early fur ri team talk. Rey wur gonnae need ri two cors onywye, whit wi' Kjerstin bein' ri Zkowen weans' nummer wan fan.
Owen wis stickin' close tae Tina lit they'd jeest gote mairit an' Tattie kent fine whye rat wis. Ri 'hing aboot Tattie is, 'es offay patient. Styin' in a hoose wi' three weemin' learns ye patience, otherwise ye wid en' up gin aff yur nut; Tattie could wait.
Ri furst gemme wis weel intae ri second hauf bey ri time rey gote rerr an' Tattie walked Wee Jinky doon tae ri touchline tae see how 'e behaved. Ri wee dug stood et 'es heel an' watched ri gemme, which meant 'e widnae bey confined tae ri cor whin ri weans wis playin'. 'E only went fur ri baw wance't whin it wint oot a' play near whair they wur staunin' bit 'e geid it back whin Tattie telt 'umtae.
Wee Jeanie Jameson says hullo tae rum whin sumb'dy wis doon injur't an' says she wid bey styin' tae watch J J; rey wur big pals, rem two.
R'unner therteens won wi' a late penalty an' made a helluva noise oan thur wye tae ri chingin' en'. Ri visitin' team wis aw roon' ri ref an' moanin' aboot ri lack a' injury time. Tattie heard 'ur tellin' rum tae pit it in writin'.
R'unner fourteens came oot fur ri waarm-up an' Wee Jinky let rum ken 'e wis rerr. Guid wee dug thit 'e is, 'e didnae go oantae ri field.
Efter ri streetches an' ri waarm-up, ri weans came ower tae whair ri wur aw gether't.
“A'm awfy nervous, Daddy,” says J J.
“Ye should bey lit me, wee hen,” says Tattie, “a'm cool is a cucumber me, so am urr.”
“Rat's 'cos yur sittin' oan ri Eskimo, Daddy,” says Bonnie, “rat's wur hauf time drinks so it is.”
“'Hink mibbe rur's a rid tin in rerr fur yur aul' faither, hen?”
“A widnae 'hink sa, naw, Daddy,” says J J, afore jinin' 'ur team-mates fur ri pre-match huddle.
Thur wis a guid crowd oan, an' rightly so fur it wis a big gemme. Tattie stood wi' Aggie, Wee Jinky et 'es heel. Tina stood et r'urr side e' ur maw an' ren it wis Kjerstin an' Owen. Ri furst hauf wis scrappy an' nane a' ri two weans seen much a' ri baw, bit rey wis haudin' r'urr ain. Wee Jinky wint ower tae rum et hauf time tae gie rum sum advice bit ri referee chased 'um. She says it wis 'cos ri wee fulla hud Bonnie's skill tie wrapped roon' 'es neck. J J brung 'um ower tae ri touchline an' says, “Whit d'ye 'hink, Daddy? We cannae seem tae brek rum doon ataw.”
“Whit did Brodie say tae yis?”
“Jeest tae keep et it.”
“Wull here, listin tae me, wee hen. Puush up anurr five yerds, yer big 'keeper's keepin' yis in ri gemme bit if yis puush up an' haud yir line it'll be hard fur thum tae git bye yis. An' anurr 'hing, tell wee Rosie ri nixt tum yis git a free kick an' she waants tae shoot tae scud it alang ri flair, a daisy cutter, ye ken? Ah've noticed r'urr wa' aw jump up whin she skelps ri ba'. Mibbes catch thur 'keeper sleepin'”
Bonnie wis rerr tae an' she wis noadin' 'ur heid tae say 'ur aul' man wis talkin' a loat a' sense. “Daddy,” she says, “'ur's a big man awrerr tellin' 'es lassie tae chope ri legs fae oor J J ev'ry tum she bates 'ur.”
“'Zat right, hen? Jeest you coancentrate oan yir gemme an' ignore 'um.”
Whin ri second hauf kicked aff, Tattie cote Owen's eye an' indicatit 'e should folay 'um. Is rey walked roon' ri back e' ri crowd, Tattie pul't Owen aboot Stoorie Middan an' seem't happy wi' 'es brurr's explanation.
Pish Staines wis ahin' ri fat gadgie whin ri two brurrs arrived. Sumb'dy hid telt 'um ri same tale an', bein' a mate a' Tattie an' Owen's, 'ed decidit tae deal wi' ri mater 'esel'.
“Here, big man,” 'e says, “keep ri heid an' ah'll buy ye a bunnet.”
“Who're you talkin' tae, ya fuckin' choob?”
“You, ya fat get. Rese wee lassies is tryin' tae play kickba' an' you're shoutin ri bit doon. Jeest gie it a bye, wull ye?”
“Rat's ma wee lassie rerr oan ri wing, Jim, an' ah'll gie 'ur advice if a waant tae. Noo, fuck aff oot ma road......KILL 'UR, SADIE, CHOPE RI FUCKIN' LEGS FAE 'UR, A TELT YE.”
J J skin't Sadie easy an' ping't a beauty e' a pass tae ri oappisite wing. Pish wis peelin' 'es jaikit aff.
Owen tapped 'um oan ri shooder an' led 'um awa' fae danger.
“YAIS YIR ELBAS LIT A TELT YE, OOR SADIE, GET YIRSEL' SUM ROOM. RAT WEE RAG SHOULDNAE BEY BATIN' YE TAE RI BA' AW RI TIME.”
“Gie yur wee lassie ony mair advice lit rat, Jim, an' you're claim't,” says Tattie evenly.
“Who ri fuckur yoo, pal?”
“A'm ri faither a' rat wee lassie yur tellin' yur lassie tae kick ri fuck oot a'.”
“'Sonly a gemme, pal. Kin ye no' git yur fuckin' heid roon' rat? 'Sonly a fuckin' gemme.”
“Tell ye whit, Jim. Ony wan a' ma two lassies comes aff rat pitch wi' sae much is a bruise fae your lassie an' a'm gonnae rip yur fuckin' heid aff an' shite doon yur neck. You catchin' ma drift, ya fat bastar't?”
Ri fat bastart luc't Tattie up an' doon an' turn't a funny puce colour. 'E wis quite obviously shitin' 'esel'.
“Mibbe ye'd better jeest fuck oaf ower tae yur motor, Jim, an' huv a wee lie doon. 'Cos if a hear anurr peep oot e' ye a'm gonnae go tae toon oan ye. Whit d'ye 'hink?”
Ri gadgie shuffl't oaf jeest is ri wee Geography teacher paddi't ower. “Is there a problem, Mr Zkowen?” she says. “Only ai've been asked to haiv anurr word with yon gentleman aboot his language.” She wis awfy weel spoken.
“Nae borr, Miss Swirl, ur ye enjoyin' ri kickba'?” asked Tattie.
“You know,” says Miss Swirl, “thet man his been causing trouble all year et the kickba' games. The referee his hed words with him on more than one occasion.”
“Mibbe ye could write a wee report aboot 'um ren. A mean, rurr's nae reason tae bey yaisin' rat kin' a language in front e' ri weans, is rurr?”
“I agree wholeheartedly, Mr Zkowen. Enjoy the rest of the game, won't you? By the way, I like your wee dug, he's a beauty.”
“Whair's ma faither?” says Sadie durin' a lull in ri play.
“A 'hink 'es huvin' a wee lie doon,” says Tattie.
“'Hank Goad fur rat,” says Sadie. “'E dis ma heid right in, so 'e dis.”
“Enjoy ri rest e' yur gemme, hen,” says Tattie, “jeest try yur best.”
Ri free kick wis awardit jeest is Tattie an' Owen rejine't thur company. It hid nuhin' tae dae wi' Sadie. Bonnie wis huvin' a wurd wi' ri big centre hauf an J J wis backin' 'ur up. Rey hid been bang oan aboot movin' up a few yerds sae ra big burd wis gein' rum 'ur best attention. Even Wee Jinky wis haudin' 'es braith whin she taen a guid run et ri ba'. Ri defensive wa' jumped ri gither an' she sent ri daisy cutter unner rum. Ri 'keeper seen it late an' gote a haun tae it birrit fun ri back e' ri net aff ri post an' aff ri back e' 'ur heid an' ri grun eruptit. Wee Jinky wint apeshit; ri wee man appreciates a guid goal is much is ri nixt dug.
Ri oappisition hud a late penalty claim dismiss't whin Sadie held 'ur hauns up an' says she fell ower 'ur ain feet. A fair sportin' wee lassie. Hur's wis ri furst haun Tattie shook afore e's weans dived oan 'um.
Owen grabbed a haud e' ri Herald's photographer an' made sure e' gote a few snaps a' Wee Jinky sportin' e's colours; ri gadgie wis weel up fur it.
Ri weans wint aff tae git chinged 'n' rat 'n' Wee Jinky showed aff e's skills wi' ri kickba'. Ri gadgie fae ri Herald yaised up anurr spool oan 'um. 'E shin turn't 'es attention tae wee Jinty is she peel't aw 'ur gear aff fur a streak.......braw.
“Here, Daddy,” says Bonnie whin they'd hud thur showers an' rat, “did ye see ony a' rem scouts ye says wis comin'?”
“Awwww. Ma pare wee lassie. A'm gonnae huv tae take ye tae ri oapticians oan Monday,” says Tattie.
“Whit dae ye mean, Daddy?”
Tattie pintit tewards ri adjinin' fields tae ri hunners a' tents set up fur ri big summer Jamboree, an' ri hunners a' scouts an' guides an rangers millin' aboot ri place an' shrugged e's shooders. “Whit in ri name e' ri wee man wid ye caw aw rem mob ower rerr, ma wee hen?”
Ev'rub'dy pished thursels laughin' and Wee Jinky barked ri bit doon; 'e likes a guid laugh, so 'e dis. Kjerstin taen a guid swatch acroas ri field an' says, “A wunner if ony e' rum's Swedish?” She wis fair pickin' up oan ri lingo.
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He has written a poetry collection and several novels, two of which, The Reader and Violet Hiccup have been published by Black Leaf Publishing.