How Late It Was, How Late: A Novel by James Kelman

Author:James Kelman [Kelman, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780393327991
Google: vGug5P3NyykC
Amazon: 039332799X
Publisher: W. W. Norton
Published: 2005-10-17T07:00:00+00:00

He said it in his ordinary speaking voice but it seemed to boom out and it was like the guy was waiting for the boom to die away before he gave his answer: A problem? he said.

Aye ye got one?

Naw.

That’s good.

A guy once telt Sammy about complications; he had asked him about whether he had a girlfriend or no. Sammy had been married at the time. It was just after he had landed inside that last time. He hadnay wanted to speak to the guy so he telt him it was too complicated, he didnay want to talk about it. And the guy said, Listen pal ye come inside ye’re a complicated person, when ye go out ye’re still a complicated person but the complications are different. All yer other complications go away. People forget about ye; the goodies I’m talking about, the only ones remember ye are the fucking baddies; they still want to fuck ye.

Sammy could mind thinking this is a piece of wisdom that I’m gony treasure. But it was just bullshit.

The springs squeaked, the guy shifting his position again. Sammy had went off thinking about things but it was the same kind of things he usually thought about and he wanted to switch the subject. Games-I-Have-Played. Concerts-I-Have-Attended. Women-I-Have-Screwed. Jobs-I-Have-Fucking-Done. Strokes-I-have-fucking-pulled. Look, he said, ye just get by in here, that’s the important thing, know what I’m saying, ye can go crazy or ye can survive. Sometimes it’s stupit and sometimes it isnay. The bottom line is it’s too easy to get done in. Ye let them man and they’ll fucking do ye. Ye’ve got to get yer head right. And the time to start is now.

After a wee minute the guy said, What ye telling me for?

I feel like it.

I didnay ask ye for any advice.

Naw I’m just telling ye. Ye’ve got to watch yerself. I’m guessing you’re gony have problems.

I dont know what ye’re talking about.

Fair enough.

Look I’m in here for nothing.

Doesnay matter; either way ye’ve got to survive. Cause these cunts’ll fucking do ye. They like fucking doing ye. That’s what they’re here for. Know what I mean? Ye get done right? Well that’s now ye get done, they fucking do ye. And when they’ve fucking done ye they’ve done ye, that’s what I’m talking about. Either ye let them or ye dont. Personally I fucking dont, right, I dont fucking let them. Know how? cause I fucking hate the bastards. I hate them; that’s how I survive. Know what I’m saying?

Aye.

And the way I hate them: total fucking fuck all. Win lose or draw. There’s nay such thing as a good fucking uniform. Same goes for a grass. Ye hear me?

…

Eh?

I hear ye, I dont know what ye’re telling me for but.

I’m telling ye cause I want to.

What for?

Cause I want to.

Fuck sake… The springs squeaked, the guy turning ower.

Sammy dragged himself up and along to the pail, he knelt and had a piss. Then into the bunk and under the blankets onto his side.

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